Split (1)

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	[WP] You live in a world where everyone has a unique superpower, gained on their 18th birthday. With nearly 108 billion people to have ever lived, the universe seems to be running out of ideas.	[ "\"Really bruh? I got electricity as a power?\" Mike spoke to his little brother Kenny.\n\n\"Look, it's not that bad man. You got a good power.\"\n\n\"The fuck it is. It don't help that I got dreads and I'm black too. How many other heroes you think I'm gonna be compared to?\" Mike ran his hand through his hair.\n\n\"Mike, chill man.\"\n\n\"Nah! Dude down the block got blood manipulation and I got electricity. I'm black man, c'mon! This is so cliche!\"", "Kate was not looking forward getting to the front of the line. She had heard stories in ancient times about powerful superheroes with super strength or flight. Meanwhile her best friend Jessica can feel whether an object contains more or less ammonia than .5 parts per million, and her dad could turn his hands into cat heads. Powers that were actually useful are quite rare nowadays. Most of them are just silly.\n\nSure, getting a unique superpower sounds great, but they were never very worthwhile. You're lucky if your power is useful to you at all, but even still everyone had to stand in line on their 18th birthday at one of the local Power Centers to receive their own, unique superpower.\n\n\"LUIS GARRISON.\" said the booming voice. At each Center there were a box connected to the conscious of the universe and granted superpowers. The kid at the front of the line, who must've been Luis, stepped forward.\n\n\"YOUR POWER IS... THE ABILITY TO SEE THE DISTANCE A PERSON HAS WALKED THAT DAY IN SMOOTS AS A NUMBER THAT FLOATS ABOVE THEIR HEAD.\"\n\n\"In what?\"\n\n\"A SMOOT IS A UNIT OF LENGTH ABOUT 5 FEET AND 7 INCHES OR ABOUT 1.702 METERS. IT IS A UNIQUE POWER AND IS DISTINCT FROM THE ABILITY TO SEE THE DISTANCE A PERSON HAS WALKED THAT DAY IN UNITS OF SHEPPEY. NEXT PERSON.\"\n\nLuis walked back out grumbling to himself.\n\n\"SUSAN WARD. YOUR POWER IS... THE ABILITY TO REANIMATE DEAD GLASS FROGS THAT HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR LESS THAN AN HOUR FOR 4 MINUTES AND 25.5674743423 SECONDS.\"\n\nThat could be useful... maybe. Kate didn't know. Susan didn't look happy with her power like everyone else.\n\n\"WILFRED HARRIS. YOUR POWER IS... THE ABILITY TO ALWAYS LOOK STYLISH WHILE WEARING A PROPELLER BEANIE HAT.\"\n\n\"Yes!\" Wilfred got quite a lot of stares due to that skip in his step. Kate couldn't help but be jealous as well. It was so rare for someone to actually be happy with their power.\n\n\"LUCETTA BENNETT. YOUR POWER IS... THE ABILITY TO INSTANTLY SENSE IF A DUCK IS STARING AT YOU.\"\n\nHer mom actually had a similar power: the ability to sense if there were frogs 5 feet from her. It made catching them really easy, which was why Kate got pet frogs instead of something covered in fur.\n\n\"ALVAN WHITE. YOUR POWER IS... THE ABILITY TO KNOW WHEN IT IS GOING TO RAIN IN PARATY, BRAZIL.\"\n\nAlvan waved his hands in frustration. \"I've never even heard of Paraty!\"\n\nIt was Kate's turn now. She stepped forward cautiously. Expect the worst, but hope for the best was what all the teacher said. So here she was, expecting the worst and hoping for at least mediocre.\n\n\"KATE BAKER. YOUR POWER IS... THE ABILITY TO FIND ANYTHING THAT YOU HAVE LOST SO LONG AS IT IS 90% RUTHENIUM BY MASS.\"\n\nThat... wasn't too bad. She might be able to never lose a key ever again. Guess she was going to go home to find out what ruthenium was.\n\n\n", "\"So let me get this straight... You can make chairs flexible?\"\n\n\"Yep...\" he replied, somewhat disappointed that this is what he was given.\n\nI had been working this job for 7 years and this... This was the weirdest I'd ever seen. You see, the moment you turn 18, you earn your power, unique to yourself, and then you're legally required to report it to the YSA. I sit at a desk and log each of their reports.\n\n\"So you're a 'chair-bender' then?\" I chuckled a bit, though he just frowned. I suppose he wanted a better power. Most do.\n\nA lot of powers most people get are pointless these days. The earliest records tell tales of men who could control a raging hurricane with their will, or raise the dead, but the universe has since run out of good ideas.\n\nI thought I had been lucky. I thought I'd got the last great power, at least until I realized it was the last. You see, my power is to copy the power of those I meet, keeping only one at a time. I took this job hoping that one day I'd meet someone as lucky as myself, but I guess I'm only as lucky as the luckiest to walk through that door. Currently I could summon fruits, which was nice for a snack, and a neat trick for parties, but that's about all.\n\nI sent Hank, the first and last chair-bender, back out into the world and called for my next appointment. Maybe this would be the one with the amazing power I'd been waiting for. Or maybe it would be Ned, the man with the power to speak to snails.", "18, the day everybody longs for, the day that always has the front pages of the newspapers covered. Today, Seth Evansgale would be receiving his very own special present in the form of a super power. Every child on their 18th birthday was mysteriously gifted a mystical ability. They ranged anywhere from the power to create fast spreading wildfires to the kid three houses down being able to tie his shoes with the flick of a wrist, literally. \n\nBut Seth, he’s got the superhero name and two of the most gifted parents on the block. He knew that today his world would change. He woke up, groggy as always, but quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes and headed downstairs. On his doorstep there was a letter. The description of his power would be inside and by tomorrow morning this letter would vanish and the power would remain. \n\nHe slipped the silky white note out of the envelope and read, “you will wake every morning refreshed for the day ahead.” Seth starred at it, incredibly confused. So what, he had the power to sleep and wake up and...what? Did he just get jinxed, jebaited, or duped? Was this a real power or was it a fake letter. \n\nHe shook off his disappointment, clearly he was misunderstanding something. Obviously he would go to bed and wake up, his name in the paper exclaiming how amazing his power would be. He decided he would investigate it more in the morning. \n\n\\----next day----\n\nHe woke up hurriedly, showered, and set his room, not noticing his alarm hadn’t even sounded yet. Then he raced down to the door again, hoping for another letter. Suffice to say, none arrived. For the next 5 days he would follow this same pattern but waking up earlier and earlier, only falling asleep after recognizing how dangerously close he was getting to the start of each coming school day. After a week without more than 3 hours of sleep it finally hit him. How can you stop a man who runs on nothing, not even sleep. " ]	4
	[WP] You have a power to see the age of people right above their heads. Nothing interesting. Except when one day you see at number over 800.	[ "I sit on the bench next to him, a slight distance between us. Rather than speak, instead I watch the sunset. \n\nTogether, we watch the passing of time, and I notice a faraway look on his face. Perhaps the only true indication of his age. \n\n\"Give me some advice,\" I tell him. \n\nHe arches a brow, puffing out a little breath from his nose, to which I simply smile. \n\n\"Call it a hunch, but I reckon you have it in you. Good advice, that is.\" \n\nHe laughs, shakes his head. His eyes never quite drift away from that sunset. \"I'm afraid I offer nought but the worst.\" \n\n\"And I tell you I've already been given the worst.\" \n\nHis lips curl, and after a moment of contemplation he finally relents. He turns to look at me with a face that doesn't look a day over twenty. A facade. \"Very well. What ails you?\"\n\n\"The same thing that you face. But the opposite, I guess.\" \n\n\"Meaning?\" \n\n\"I'm going to die soon. Months, I've been given.\" In spite of myself, I let out a laugh. A bitter, choked sound. \"Doctor could barely look me in the eye when he gave me the news.\"\n\n\"There's no good way to give it,\" he concedes. \n\n\"I suppose. But, still, it hounds me.\"\n\n\"What does?\"\n\n\"Knowing. Knowing that I'll die before I can experience most of what life can offer; I won't marry, I won't find love, I – I won't be a mum – christ, I'm sorry, I always wanted a daughter. It's just so unfair. All of it. That things could have been different. And I can't reconcile it. How can I enjoy what time I have left when all I think about is the time I won't have?\"\n\n\"And you tell me this because you know I don't die.\" \n\nI look at him, meeting his unrelenting glare with bloodshot eyes. I hadn't meant to cry, they'd just come as they usually do. Always at the worst times. I simply nod, unable to articulate a response. \n\nHe places an arm on my shoulder, a little too timidly, and leans back. He sighs. \"You'll hate me no matter what I say.\"\n\n\"I'm long beyond hate.\" \n\n\"You can't be past hatred. It's the only thing that persists, in both life and death. We may love a thousand times, fire fading and lighting anew each time, but hate is like a seed in the dirt. It grows, feeds on those around it, and does not stop even when we ourselves join it in the ground. It carries from generation to generation, life to life, heart to head.\" \n\n\"Until the plant itself withers and dies.\" \n\nHe chuckles. \"Perhaps. I would not know. Maybe by my one-thousandth year, I will find out. Perhaps my ten-thousandth. But I digress, I cannot offer you peace of mind in death; would that I could but, alas, I can barely do myself the courtesy. No, instead, I can tell you this: the minutes you spend on this bench, talking to a mere husk, are not worth your time.\"\n\n\"What is, at this point?\"\n\n\"Everything. Whatever you wish. Your moments are precious. That the end-point is closer does not invalidate the journey, the experience. We have both been dealt a cursed hand by fate, this I shan't deny, but we must make the best of what we are given, lest we end up with nothing at the end of it all.\" \n\n\"Easy for you to say.\" \n\n\"Believe me, it is not.\"\n\nSo, ultimately, he's just telling me what everybody else has been. I feel robbed. Eight-hundred years and he has nothing to show from it. I lean back, sniffling slightly. \"I guess I shouldn't have expected more from this conversation.\"\n\n\"People tend to expect the best of me. I peaked at age forty, and I've been perpetually plateauing since.\"\n\n\"What did you do at age forty?\"\n\n\"Overthrow an Empire. Become a King. The usual.\" \n\n\"Sounds like you've lived an interesting life.\" \n\n\"And yet here I am. In the end, it amounted to me sitting on this miserable bench watching a sun set every day. Time makes a fool of us all.\"\n\nI lean next to him, a tad closer, and cock my head. \"Ironic.\" \n\n\"Yeah, it is, isn't it?\" \n\n\"What's your name, then?\"\n\n\"Just call me Anu. And to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?\" \n\n\"Eren.\" \n\n\"Eren, you asked of me advice. And I gave you it, although no doubt it lacked in your eyes. So, instead, let me gift you something else. My time, for yours. I cannot make you live longer than fate deems appropriate, but my centuries have not been without their fruits. Ask of me something, and I shall provide it.\" \n\nI consider the proposition. I have nothing else to think on, and so it occupies my mind, silencing me. \"Well, I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights, I guess. They're supposed to be beautiful.\"\n\n\"Then we shall fly to Alaska. And, if it is not there, Canada. If not, Iceland, and Norway after.\"\n\nHe smiles, a childlike expression on his youthful features. \"We shall chase the lights, until your wish is fulfilled. This is my promise, Eren.\" \n\n\"And now my turn. I have some advice for you.\" \n\n\"And what would that be?\" \n\n\"Pack some warm clothes.\" \n\n\"Duly noted. So, tell me, will taking you to see the Northern Lights at least ease your sorrow?\"\n\nI pause, and shake my head. \"No, it won't. Maybe it'll ease yours. With luck, the experience might help me temporarily forget it – push it to a corner of my mind, perhaps. But it'll persist, like it always does.\" \n\n\"So why did you agree?\"\n\n\"Because I want to live. And, until then, nothing else matters. And I want you to do the same, because a life that never ends should not be spent in misery, just as a life soon to end should not be filled with sorrow. It just took a conversation with an immortal for me to realise time is not valuable in and of itself, it's what we do with it that is. The moments we make.\" \n\nOnce more, he smiles, and I realise he wears it awkwardly. Like a mask – no, an unfamiliar motion entirely. His muscles twitch, and he shows too much teeth. \n\nI let out a slight laugh. \n\n\"What's so funny?\" He asks innocently, the smile fading as quickly as it had come. A single moment, precious because it had barely been there. \n\n\"Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's find a flight to catch.\" " ]	1
	[WP] You lift the hanging Bedsheet to assure your Daughter that there is no monster Under her bed. She was right. Only, She said 'Mobster', Not Monster.	[ "Dorothea Wimbley was a woman of convictions: She went to church when it suited her, worked double shifts at the library when she could, and devoted as much time as possible to her daughter, Polly. That devotion to encouraging her imagination is what had gotten the two—now three of them into this mess.\n\nProlly had stayed home from from school with the head cold that had been passing around the children as of late, she stayed in bed with her drawings and her books all day, had been a perfect angel for Dr. Harrell, who was good enough to drop by for a house call before Wednesday mass, and had eaten her chicken and dumplings without complaint. It was only as the day wound down into night that she started getting fussy.\n\n“Mob! Mob!” She cried out, “dere’s a mobster id my roob!”\n\nDorothea paused, and set down her book.\n\n“A what?” She replies, as she got up to see what the fuss was about.\n\nPolly was curled up in the middle of her bed, with the bedclothes bunched up around her. She was twisting and wringing the hem of her duvet nervously.\n\n“There’s a mobster, mob,” she wailed pitifully, “a big scawy mobster. He’s god big scawy hands, a big wed dose, two big blag eyes, and he’s seben feet tall! He crawd udder my bed, and he won’d cub oud”.\n\nMrs. Wimbley knelt down beside the bed and brushed back a stray lock of Polly’s hair reassuringly. “Sweetheart, what an imagination you have. But don’t you worry, any monster under the bed will have mommy to contend with.” And with that she leaned down to floor level and lifted the bedsheet.\n\nPolly cried out, “Nod a mobster, mob! A MOBSTER!”\n\nAnd with that, Dorothea was face to bruised and bloodied face with the notorious mob enforcer Vito “Leadfists” Lutezio looking rather squashed and rumpled in his tattered pinstripe suit curled up under a child-size bed.\n\n“Can I help you?” Dorothea asked, too stunned to be anything other than polite.\n\n“Listen dollface, I’m not looking to start any trouble, see?” Leadfists replies, as calmly as any man with two black eyes and a nose out of joint possibly could, “There’s a citywide manhunt for me, and I’m just gonna cool my heels ‘til the heat’s blown over. Capiche?”\n\nEver the pragmatist, Dorothea crosses her arms. “What’s in it for us?” She rebutted, in an arch tone.\n\nVito huffed and rolled his eyes, “A little you scratch my back, I watch yours, see? I figure a cherry red tomato like yous is sure to need someone watching her back, what with just you and the goil in the picture.” \n\nDorothea couldn’t help but blush at the compliment, regardless of the slight chauvinism of it. Mr. Lutezio did have a good point, it would be nice not to have to worry about Polly’s safety, and struggling to make ends meet only had so much appeal.\n\n“Leadfists” She started,\n\n“—Please, call me Vito. The only folks who gotta worry about Leadfists is deadbeats who don’t make good on their loans” he replied, his smile warm beneath his overly-waxed moustache.\n\n“Vito, then. You’re free to stay the night. Though you’re welcome to the couch or spare room, if you prefer.” Dorothea replied as she pushed herself up to her feet and brushed the dust bunnies from her housedress, “Polly, I’m going to fetch Mr. Lutezio here a bowl of chicken and dumplings. You can read two more chapters of your book, but after that it’s bedtime, understand?”\n\nPolly, exasperated and impressed with her mother’s ability to roll with the punches like a heavyweight prizefighter, merely gave Dorothea a stuffy-headed “yes maba” before untangling her books from the bedding and opening her favorite: ‘Racketeering for Fun and Profit’ with foreword by Al Capone.\n\nVito crawled out from under Polly’s bed, mindful of his injuries and not spoiling her pretty pink bedspread with bloodstains.\n\n“This is real swell of you dollface,” he said gratefully, as she settled him down on the couch with a bowl of soup and the radio playing .\n\n“Friends and neighbors call me Dottie,” she replied with another blush.\n\nVito smirked, “I’ll keep that in mind.”\n\n- - -\n\nFive years later, the soon-to-be Mrs. Dottie Lutezio, wife of a feared and respected capo, marched down the aisle of the big church on Main Street that she’d never been able to afford the tithe for on her own, looking resplendent in ivory (because who would they be kidding with white) while Vito stood by the pulpit looking even more handsome than the day they met—so what if his nose healed a little crooked, he was a real handsome fella under the swelling—looking like he was seeing Dorothea for the very first time. \n\n\nPolly, nearly a woman now, watched the the madly in love pair from her place as maid of honor—with a magnum revolver hidden in her bouquet in the event that a rival family tried to put a damper on the festivities.\n\nAnd to think, it had all started with a case of the sniffles and a mobster under her bed." ]	1
The idea came to me while I was thinking about how convenient it would be if you could just press a button and forget the last 5 minutes or something like that. In my mind, that would be the original purpose of the technology, forgetting things that mildly inconvenience you like hearing a spoiler or watching a particularly bad movie or something. Feel free to do whatever you want with the concept though!	[WP]Humanity has developed technology capable of erasing memories. 30 years ago, everyone had all their memories erased. You are the first to discover why.	[ "\"Mr. President. Your office, and confidential information along with it.\"\n\n\"And the button?\" I inquired.\n\n\"The nuclear button is in another room, sir.\"\n\n\"No, the one to wipe memories.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, I can't remember what you're talking about.\" He smirked a little bit.\n\n\"Cut it, Johnson.\"\n\n\"It's under the third drawer.\"\n\nI walked in and surveyed the room. I would take the time to bask in my position after I had my questions answered. All of our questions. I sped over to the confidential cabinet, filled with the secret as to why The Wipe took place. I'd be the first to know. Then, if safe enough, I'd share it with the world.\n\n\"That'll be all, Johnson,\" I directed behind me. I felt him watching me. I fumbled between files and pulled one out.\n\n\"With all due respect, sir, I'd like to be present for this.\"\n\n\"Johnson, you know this is--\" I stopped when I looked into his eyes. His curiosity almost burned a hole into the file I held. I was already shaking with anticipation. I might be mentally torturing him by asking him to leave. I had the power to make him leave, and that's all that mattered. I smiled broadly, unable to withhold my giddy. \n\n\"Come on, let's do it!\" I scurried to the desk and he came to gaze over my shoulder.\n\n\"This'll tell me why I don't know who my parents are,\" he said.\n\n\"Who my child was,\" I continued.\n\n\"The reason I was homeless.\"\n\n\"The war that came as a result of the paranoia that followed.\"\n\n\"The loss of all oral history.\"\n\nWe both took a moment to savor the moment. Only a moment. I tore the file open and out dropped a USB Drive.\n\n\"Get me my--\" \n\nJohnson was already running across the room to grab the laptop.\n\nI plugged it in; both my legs running restless below the desk.\n\nA small video popped up on screen. I was confused it was a live broadcast. Or, it was filmed live, I'm assuming. It had the \"LIVE\" sign at the bottom left of the screen. \n\n\"It's President Howard,\" Johnson mused. The president of 30 years ago.\n\n\"Beautiful men and women of this beautiful country, I have important news to tell you all.\"\n\nHe breathed for a moment, really letting the moment sink in. \n\nThen he just kept staring at the screen. \n\n\"Did it freeze?\" I asked Johnson.\n\nPresident Howard then stood abruptly. \n\n\"Mr. President?\" someone asked off screen.\n\nTaking a huge breath, Howard projectile vomited all over the camera.\n\n\"Oh my God.\" someone screamed.\n\n\"Oh my God,\" Johnson whispered next to me.\n\n\"OH NO!\" Howard yelled. \"Ahh, it--\" his voice stopped as noises were clearly coming from the back of his pants. He began grimacing as tears formed at the edges of his eyes. \"It won't stop!\" he began crying, fluids flowing freely from most holes of his body. \"Ah, I can't,\" a Secret Service agent that came to help him slipped on something below and there was a sharp crack from his landing. \n\n\"Oh, Thomson, I'm so,\" Howard began, then he heaved on the poor man below him.\n\n\"Oh, God,\" I said, \"how long is...\" I saw that the video ran for another 10 minutes. \n\nIt was a surreal account of his cabinet screaming that he was still live, him crying endlessly about some pain from something he ate earlier, and the cameraman diligently keeping everything in frame. There was a crowd forming in the windows behind him, peeking in to see if the hysteria was all true. He began tearing off his clothes and screaming at the onlookers, throwing most of his clothing at them, despite them being on the other side of windows. The Secret Serviceman got back up with a make-shift sling and left the screen.\n\nBy the end of it, Howard was nearly naked and crying into his arms at the very desk Johnson and I were at. \n\n\"I can't... I can't continue with the world knowing...\" he crawled under the desk. The crowd outside looked like they were all punched in the face simultaneously and then looked around at each other and to the mostly nude man below the desk. Some started crying while others began screaming at one another. \n\n\"OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!?\" Howard exploded from the floor. \"This is disgusting, I feel...\" he climbed above the table and made eye contact with the camera. \"What's going on? What is this?\" After a lot of the same questions ran around the tape, someone finally decided to shut it off.\n\nI looked up to Johnson, who had gone pale. My entire body was stiff. He was staring at the desk intently, probably thinking of the sick stuff that went down. No, he was looking at something more particular.\n\n\"Oh..\" I looked to the third drawer.\n\n\"Mr. President, I won't be able to sleep another day in my life after what we just saw. The whole country can't see that. WE would be in shambles immediately. We were able to come back, we can do it again.\"\n\n\"Now, Johnson, that's definitely not your decision to,\" I began, but he already darted at the drawer. I tried to stop him, but he easily threw me aside. I watched in horror as he groped around the drawer until he eventually felt what he was looking for.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Growing up, there was one room in the house you were never allowed to enter, or even approach. The few times you tried, you were punished severely. Now, both your parents have passed, and you are given an envelope. Inside, there is a key, and a note from your father.	[ "For the record, my parents are not perverts. They're just, different. Mom always said you couldn't trust a person who needed to hide behind his apparel. Whatever you say mom. I still love you in spite of things...Anyway. The house is filled with long corridors, stairways that go nowhere, opposing mirrors, and doors. Lots of doors. They are all white. Or cream I guess. These doors go down hallways that seemed to stretch for miles in my childhood. If you follow the hallway that cuts through the center of the house you eventually run out of doors on either side. If you keep walking you arrive to a door that is not quite like the rest. It is red and 20 feet tall and 3 feet wide. It is oval in shape. There is no door handle. I'm not sure how to get in. I've never had a reason tbh, not till now.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI remember it like it was yesterday. Mom and Dad were away. The only people in the house over the weekend were me and \"The nanny\". She was a tall exotic hispanic lady. She wore a traditional maids outfit. She had solid black eyes. She would sit in a chair we kept in the foyer the whole time my parents were gone. She never moved. She didn't even fucking blink. She had a clear view of the center hallway and the red door. I needed to see what was in that room. It gnawed at me day and night. Them leaving for a weekend was an annual thing. I had thought about this for years, but I chickened out because I was young. I was sixteen now. A full grown adult. It was now or never. I found a door out of sight. I thought long and hard about what I was going to do. I didn't want to even now, but I had to, I had no other options. I visualized a pentagram on the door. I created my tool in my imagination. It was a wisp of gray smoke in the darkness of my mind. It turned into a purple sphere. It wriggled in defiance trying to resist my desire. Eventually with a lot of coaxing I created something suitable. It took on a life of its own flew through the pentagram and into the room. When I opened the door my heart was in my throat. A chair sat in the center of the room and in the chair sat a man. He was tall, He was handsome his eyes were black. He turned back to see me. He acknowledged me with a mental hello. I couldn't say any thing. He picked the chair up and proceeded to walk down the hall. His dress shoes making a steady click clack on the floor. When I could finally move I followed him until we got to the center hallway. He looked to the left in direction of the red door, and he looked to the right towards my \"Nanny\". He moved towards her, set the chair up across from her, and leaned forward. Their eyes locked. The darkness in the spaces where their eyes were snaked out and intertwined. This was it.\n\nI ran full speed to the red door. I couldn't look back. I felt that if I did it would break the spell. Also I'm a coward. I stood in front of the door and reached out. I heard a whisper I turned and passed out at the sight of it.\n\nThat was two years ago. My parents have gone now. So has \"The Nanny\" The only thing they have left me is an envelope. I already knew what was up. I opened it in front of the red door. Inside is a key with a note that says good luck.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA keyhole appeared. I pushed the brass skeleton key in, turned it, heard the mechanism release. I opened the door. I felt a cold dread rise up inside of me. There were copies of my person all over the room. It was a big room the size of a city block, and it was filled with clones of me. Some were flayed. Some were decapitated. Some were untouched. They were all in agony. At the back of the room stairs rose up out of the side of the back wall. They led up to a platform. A clone was standing on the platform. It had black eyes. It grinned and waved before jumping off the platform onto a massive cone spike. The clone of me's body slid slowly. It reached a stopping point. There was a long silence in which I was afraid to move. It lifted its head and reached out to me in mock despair. I stared. It then gripped the base of the cone and tried to push itself up off of it. It kept slipping and sliding back down.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI heard a whisper behind me. I turned to look. I wanted to scream.", "\"...and once again, I'm so sorry for your loss.\" I looked up through an emotional fog to meet the gaze of the attorney, his eyes full of practiced concern. He held forth a simple white envelope, sealed with a wax stamp.\n\n\"Thank you\", I accepted the parcel and slipped it into my coat pocket. \n\nBack at the house I carelessly threw my jacket over the back of a chair and pulled my phone from my pocket. 12 missed calls, 5 voicemails. I switched the phone off. Best to shut myself off from the world for a little bit. Just until the shock goes away. To lose both your parents in one instant - no amount of emotional stability is ready for that. Like being pushed out of an airplane with no parachute. This house that I grew up in, spent my entire childhood in, has now become so quiet and empty. This home of ours WAS our home, it's not a home now. A home is where you feel warm and wanted and I feel neither of these things. I go in the kitchen and grab a glass from the cabinet, toss a couple of ice cubes in it and fill it to the top with 18 year scotch from the hutch. For an hour I sit and enjoy the warming companionship of the fine whiskey. Then like a whisper in the ear, I get the sudden urge to open the envelope given to me from the attorney. I pull it from the coat pocket. There's a unique symbol in the wax I hadn't noticed before, it looks Japanese. I meticulously slice the envelope open with a parring knife and instantly the weight of a brass key falls from onto the tablet with a clink. Now my anxiety returns as I unfold the letter: \n\"Kevin,\n\nYou were always such a sweet boy with a loving heart and a great mind. Please carry our memory with you wherever you go as a light to protect you against dark times. We love you greatly. There's something else as you've probably already guessed. This key goes to the room at the end of the hall, the one you were never allowed in. You've grown into such a responsible young man and we only ask this favor of you because we know you can handle it. \n\nI'm not sure if you remember but for Christmas of 1999 we got you a \"pet\". You named him \"Buddy\". We though it would be good for you to learn to take care of something. Well as most kids often do, you got bored of the daily responsibilities of caring for Buddy and couldn't handle him any more. When you went away for summer camp that following summer we took on the challenge of caring for him, but your absence \"changed him\". He became too much for even us to handle so we relocated him into the back room. When you came back from summer camp you hadn't even noticed that he was gone, so we never mentioned him again. But over the years we have still been taking care of Buddy. You'll find him chained up in the back room. I'm sure he'll still remember you.\"\n\nAs I finished the last sentence I realized that I was drenched in a cold sweat. Why don't I remember Buddy? \n\nI picked up the key and examined it. I better face this thing now before the whiskey courage wears off. I slowly creep down the hallway, towards the forbidden room. The floorboards creek beneath my every step. I reach the door and pull on the handle, forgetting that it's locked. With my ear pressed against the wooden frame I listen....silence. I insert the key and slide the bolt away. A moldy basement-like smell permeates the air as I cautiously open the door. A small beam of grey moonlight gently warms the room, but it's still too dark to see. My hand searches for a light switch but there's none to be found. \"Buddy?\" I whisper into the room as I approach. My heart racing, senses heightened, I scan the room for any sign of movement or life. There's nothing. I take a few more steps into the room. \"Buddy?\" I call out a little louder. Suddenly a light appears on the wall. It's red and rectangular. What the hell. I reach out to the light to feel a plastic hand-held orb hanging from a nail in the wall. I pull it closer to my eyes to get a closer look. An image dances across the LCD screen. On top it reads \"Tamagotchi\". On the back, written in black marker: \"Buddy\".", "I drop the stack of letters on the kitchen counter as I go to make a cup of coffee. It was still really early in the day and I barely function without my first cup. The bubbling of the boiling water comforts me as the only sound in the kitchen. I walk to the sink, splashing some water on my face before drying my hands and face and walking back towards the stack of letters waiting for me.\n\nI yawn as I sift through the letters. Bills, propositions to sell the house and more bills until I see a familiar handwriting. One I haven’t seen in months. The sleepy haze leaves me almost instantly.\n\nAn envelope from dad.\n\nI gasp at the click of the kettle turning off, the sound shocking me out of my surprise. The water was boiled. I consider going to make some coffee before opening the envelope but my curiosity is stronger than my need for a hot wake-up drink. I find a small knife and neatly tear open the envelope. Inside it is a key and a letter. I remove the key and place it carefully on the counter, before unfolding the letter.\n\n---\n\nDearest Peter,\n\nIf you’re reading this now, it would mean that your mother and I are dead as that is the only condition for which you will receive this. There is so much we didn’t tell you, so much you don’t know about who we are. So much you don’t know about who you are. We are gods, son. As to what kind, I can’t say as we have changed through the years. As with each generational change, belief in us and our deification dwindles till we are left in our most mortal state. Some of our kin chose to go the darker route, of which I’m afraid I can’t cover in this letter.\n\nI know how this must sound. I know in the last couple years, your mother and I have displayed some memory lapses but we are in our most sane at the writing of this letter. Even now, she stands behind me.\n\nYou will find more letters in the room. The one room you’re not supposed to visit. The key you see in the envelope will give you access to the room. I am deeply sorry that this is how we reveal this to you. I had hoped that you won’t have had to find out this way.\n\nPeter… We love you. And we want the utmost best for you.\n\nThe secrets in the room will change your life much more than you think it will. It will change everything you know, and everyone you know. More importantly, it will reveal your existence to those who we would rather not know about you. But this much… You deserve to at least know some truth of the matter. Some truth about the room.\n\nFrom your loving parents.\n\n---\n\nI re-read the letter again before chuckling. I need my coffee after all because this is all just some high-grade, sleepy-eyes bullshit I’m reading. I put the letter down, chuckling to myself and returned back to the kettle with my mug. A few seconds later, my mug is filled with the dark liquid of “I hate mornings”. I return to the letter and read it again, coffee in hand. There is no way this is real.\n\nI’m a god? That’s amazingly rich. I glance down at the counter and my eyes catch the key. It glints very briefly with a strange light and I rub my eyes to ensure I’m not seeing things now. I finish my first mug quite quickly after that. Growing up, my parents and I used to play pranks on each other every now and then. It was our way of keeping things fun and fresh. The last prank was years ago, however. Years before I went to college. It is kinda too late to be playing a prank now, especially after death.\n\nI grab the key in hand and jog up the stairs to the room my dad spoke of. The room that got me a severe grounding and allowance cut just because I almost opened it. Almost. I remember thinking about how harsh the punishment was for the crime because 11 year old me did not understand it.\n\nI insert the key and turn it, hearing the unlocking mechanism twist in the door. My hand closes around the handle and I almost consider just walking back to my room and preparing for work instead of giving into the letter. But curiosity is an odd beast.\n\nI twist the handle and the door opens quietly, and slowly, wisps of smoke coming out from it.\n\nI figure the earlier I get to the bottom of this prank, the faster I can get to work.\n\nI chuckle again at the very absurdity of it. Time to find out if I’m a god or not.\n\n/r/EvenAsIWrite for more stories about fantastical stuff and fictional realities." ]	3
	[WP] every time one of your plants dies it's because it's protecting you from evil spirits. You run an orchard. One day your trees begin dying by the hundreds... They're coming	[ "The grove had stood for tens of thousands of years. Lush with white oak trees and lily flowers that bloomed all year round. This ancient grove had stood because of the ancient family who cared for it, my family.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI was raised for one thing, I have been trained for one thing. To care for the entrance to the afterlife, to tend the path of eternity, to uphold the Sciath name.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe wind whipped the branches of the trees scattering leaves across the grove. I would have to rake in the morning, I thought to myself. There would be limbs and debris that would need to be taken care of.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI sat on the porch of my small cabin at the edge of the grove, watching the day turn to night. The cool breeze tugged out a few hairs from my pony tail and they tickled across my face.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt had been a long day of tending the grove. My clothes were caked with mud, my scalp wet with sweat, my muscles ached. Even though exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, the peaceful night held me to the rocking chair on the porch.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe wind sounded like waves through the trees. I watched as a band of it floated through the grove, rustling the grass and night flowers. My house stood up on the hill over looking the grove, giving me the perfect view point to always keep watch, to take inventory of what needed my care and attention for the day.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy job was simple, care for the grove, keep the path open and occasionally help the souls to walk that path. This grove was my inheritance, it was what I was made for and eventually, where I would come to rest. You see, my ancestors were buried in this grove, their ashes mixed with the soil beneath my feet. When one of the Sciath family died their job was not completed fully. Their ashes were the only way the great white oaks survived and grew.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy attention caught a faint light stopped on the path to the middle of the grove. Setting down my cup of tea I strapped on my machete and walked down the hill from my house. I followed the faint glimmer of the soul through the trees.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nApproaching the path I saw a boy sitting under one of the oaks staring at the end of the path.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe paths in the grove started in seven different directions at the edge of the trees, they all converged in the middle.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNot a boy I realized coming closer, he look to be about eighteen, my age.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Why have you stopped?\" I asked him quietly, trying not to startle him. Souls could be finicky sometimes and if I scared them out of the grove it usually took them a while to find their way back.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I do not want this to be my end.\" He shrugged his shoulders, glancing up at the converged paths behind me. \"I am not ready to give up my life\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"There is peace on the other side, there is love and rest.\" I tried to gently coax him, folding my arms I leaned against one of my trees.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"When you have fought so long for something precious, it is hard to let go\". Looking up at me a thrill of electricity ran through me at the vibrant blue eyes.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nCompassion welled up inside me, I felt connected to this stranger. Maybe because he was so close to my own age? \"You can let go-.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What is that?\" He asked sharply, rising to his feet and peering to my right.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFog was drifting into the grove, long tendrils delicately extending their fingers to caress the grove. Everywhere the fog touched, plants withered, trees groaned in pain and the grove died.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFear, all I could feel was fear.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA shape stepped from the tree I had just been leaning on. \"You must run Maddie,\" My mothers form stepped fully from her oak tree, staring at the approaching fog. \"You must take the light and you must go.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe light of the grove stood in the converged paths, resting in the center of a dais. It was what lighted the way for souls so they could pass on into peace.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nShocked I looked at her, not completely comprehending what she was telling me to do. \"I can't leave the grov-\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Go now,\" she said stepping in front of me. Behind her countless others of my family stepped from their trees. Fierce guardians even after death.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nLooking down the path toward the light, I made my decision. I ran as fast as I could, my feet pounding through the trees, my breath being pulled from my lungs. Keeping an eye on my right as those tendrils of fog slowly unfurled through the trees.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFootfalls sounded behind me. Looking back I saw the soul of the boy catching up with me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What are you doing?\" I shouted at him, breath coming out unevenly from my lungs.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I am helping you.\" he said catching up to me and matching my pace.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nShaking my head furiously I stole a glance over at the fog. It was getting closer, much closer. The trees groaning was an awful sound full of pain. My heart was tearing apart watching my ancestors one by one disappearing into that fog.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nReaching the dais we stopped in from of the fist sized rock glowing brightly in the middle.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nGasping for breath I recited my oath. \"I am the light who guides the lost, I am the keeper of peace and protector of rest.\" Reaching out I grabbed the stone and shoved it into the pocket of my flannel jacket.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"We got to get out of here,\" the boy said looking behind us. I glanced over, the fog was moving faster. We sprinted between the closing gap of fog, our footsteps cracking the debris that lined the grove floor.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe gap was closing. \"Faster.\" He yelled reaching out for my hand. I grabbed his outstretched hand lungs crying in protest as my leg pushed. He pulled me through the last line of trees just as the fog closed behind us.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe ran a few more feet before realizing the fog was not following us. Collapsing on the grass plain, I glanced over my shoulder. The fog created a dome that encompassed the grove entirely, the night filled with the groaning of dying oak trees.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What the hell was that?\" he gasped out.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I don't know,\" I said, tears brimming in my eyes. The sound of my family dying around me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\----\n\nEdit: Spelling", "Staring out the window in total disbelief of what you just witnessed, your mouth unable to shut again, you watch as another ten or so trees Just disintegrate into dust. They are coming for you and this time they mean it. For years now you managed to keep out all the evil spirits, hunting you for the sins of your past, by Just planting more trees, weed and flowers. Nurturing and caring for each and everyone of them so they would protect you in return. But now it hit you, all those attacks in all of those years were just the mere forefront, the scouts of what had come now to finally get you to the place you know you deserve to be. \nYou scream and stumble away from your window as another 30ish trees just dissapear. \"It\" is creating a path to your house like a wild rambo with a burning invisible machete. \nYou run down the stairs, grabbing only your car keys and your incredibly powerful black rose, who survived countless attacks and almost matches the strenght of a small tree. Altough you know that she'll not help at all, atleast she can be there for you in your last moments.\n\"Stop those thoughts!\" Its not to late, you prepared for this. The remaining trees will stop whatever it is for long enough so you can get to your private airport and escape. Altough you technically cant call it an escape... While driving as fast as your car allows you to, you check the rearview mirror every 10 seconds just to make sure its not there yet. \"The fields to your left and right will not hold the spirit for long\" you think at the exact moment you see the decay starting. Still far behind you but its incredibly massive. The corn and wheat crops do not even stand a chance. It hurts you that you are responsible for all of their gruesome deaths, but you drive on, ignore those thoughts and make it to your plane that is already fully tanked just for an occasion like this. You planned for all of this, you knew something was coming, to strong for anything you could have planted in your life. But not to strong for mother natures most vile weapon. Which is why you built your house only a few miles north of the rainforest. \nYou start the plane, take off, and see the trees surrounding the airport struggling and dying one by one while you fly only a few hundred feet up. So the plants on the ground could still slow it down. Then you hear it. A high-pitched scream of pure pain. You look in your lap and you notice something is missing. Your rose died because you left her in the car. You look down and see all the plants on the ground dying. You look towards the horizon and glance at the beauty of the amazonian rainforest with all its colors and millions of different lifeforms who would all sacrifice their life just so you live. You slowly open your seatbelt and open the Cockpit. The wind makes all noises perish so you cant hear the dying below you. And the last thing you see, was a Skyline of trees that will live for another hundred years.\n\n\nWell not a native speaker so I apologise for the spelling mistakes. Also first story so feel free to critisize." ]	2
	[WP] Someone saves your life. As a show of gratitude, you tell them that they are always welcome in your house. Five years later, they die in an accident and appear as a ghost to take you up on your offer.	[ "*And Leave Teardrops Everywhere\n\nFireflies / Ocean Eyes / Owl City\n\n\"Hey.\" \n\nLooking up, I found myself face to face with the spectral form of a woman. Brown hair, light blue eyes and pale skin, slightly transparent in the faint illumination of the room.\n\n\"Hello there.\" I breathed out. \"It's been a while since I last saw you, Chrissy.\" She gave a small smile. \"So you do remember me.\" She said, just as I leaned back in my chair. \"Kind of hard to forget the woman who saved my life, even though it was five years ago and I only saw you just the once.\" \n\nChrissy shrugged. \"Memory is funny that way. Something you studied for years you can forget in an instant, but a glimpse of a person stays with you forever.\" I tilted my head in curiosity. \"So, what brings you here?\" \n\n\"Do you remember what you said to me? After I saved you on the bridge?\" I nodded. \"Of course.\" I said. \"You're always welcome to visit.\" I quoted, putting my fingers up in the quotations gesture for emphasis. \"Offer's still open, though you're going to have to explain what happened to make you look like-\" I swept my fingers towards her form. \"-like that.\"\n\n\"We're not all lucky enough to have someone save us.\" Chrissy whispered, looking away. \"I lived a good life. Short as it was. Didn't even make thirty.\" She gave small, bitter laugh. \"I was hoping I'd go in my sleep when I was at least a hundred. At least it was quick. Painful, but quick.\" \n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I said. \"Don't be, it was an accident. A stupid, stupid accident.\" She said, sitting down on the nearby desk. \"My house was foreclosed, belongings put into storage or given away to grieving relatives, didn't have anywhere to go, then I remembered your offer and came here.\" \n\n\"Well, I'm afraid I don't have a spare bed, but I can always sleep on the couch.\" A small expression of amusement crept onto her face. \"Oh, I don't actually interact with the outside world. I just do the motions for the sake of remaining 'human', like with this desk.\" She looked around. \"Don't worry, I won't be too much of a nuisance.\" \n\n\"I genuinely doubt you could ever be such a thing.\" I said. \n\n...\n\nLiving with Chrissy is...unique.\n\nBesides myself, no one else can see her, which means she does things to relieve the boredom.\n\nIn the house, she critiques my cooking. \"Bacon again? You're gonna die of cholesterol poisoning one of these days.\" I shrug and bite another piece. \"It's tasty.\" I say, in-between bites. \"At least have something green once in a while!\" She says. \"Would it kill you to eat a piece of kale every now and then?\" I smile. \"It probably would.\" I drawl, to her amusement, but I do add 'healthier' foods to the list of things I get.\n\nHousehold chores get a lot more entertaining, particularly with her commentary. \"And he scores! Another dish goes in the drying rack, and he didn't slice his fingers open on the knives this time! Applause, applause applause!\" I fake a bow, as best as I can when my hands and arms are wet and I'm at the counter.\n\nIf I sit down to use my computer or play video games, she makes suggestions. \"Ooh, put on that band! They're great!\" She says, when I go on Youtube. \"Personally, I hate CTF.\" She says, when I pop in Halo and go for a round with the guys. \"I like objective games. It's more cerebral.\" I respond. \"Boooringggg.\" She says, to my laughter.\n\nDuring my visits to the mall, she walks ahead of me, passing through people, spinning around in aisles and pretending to try on clothes. \"Do these make me look fat?\" She asks, once, when we're at the mall. \"You can change your clothes on a whim, can't you?\" As if on cue, she's wearing the same clothes she'd been pretending to hold. \"You look good. Want me to buy them for you?\" I offer, much to her laughter. \n\nWhen I'm driving, she sings. It's not too bad when I'm alone, because I sing along, but when I have passengers, they're always wondering why I'm tapping a finger on the wheel. \"Song in my head.\" I say, when in reality it's Chrissy, whether she's singing a song of her own composition or one more to my taste. She's a great help with parking, always transforming her clothes to look like one of those runway technicians in the movies.\n\nAt one point, I go to a club with my friends, and she tags along, loudly demanding every drink she can see on the menu, even though the bartender can't hear her and the drinks would likely just go through her. When I decide to get on the dance floor and 'imitate Shepard' as Chrissy terms it, she goes along with me. \"Someone's gotta make you look good!\" She shouts, waving her arms around. I laugh and smile, though no one except her notices under the flashing lights and throbbing bass.\n\n\"It's C, not A.\" She whispers into my ear when I'm taking a test. \"And you might want to throw a few questions here and there. Your grades can take it.\" I don't exactly appreciate the input this time around, because I like to do these on my own merits, but she's just trying to be helpful, and I do enjoy passing grades. \n\nShe even gives me advice on what to buy at the store. \"You know, there's a discount on the chips this week. Could buy a whole bunch and have nachos for the next several months.\" I smile. \"I'd get fat, or sick of it in a week.\" She laughs. \"I wouldn't! They're great!\" \n\nWhen it's quiet, we just sit around and talk, about anything and everything we can think of. Sit on the couch, put on a movie, sometimes I choose, sometimes she chooses. \"Avengers Infinity War.\" I say. \"Crazy Stupid Love.\" She says. We flip a coin, it lands in favor of me. \"Perfectly balanced...\" I quote, and she mimes throwing a pillow at my face.\n\nWe end up watching them both, I can't sleep, she doesn't need to.\n\n...\n\n\"I miss being alive.\" \n\nI look up from the book I'm reading, closing it in the process. \"Don't get me wrong, I like living here. It's peaceful and quiet and I don't have to worry about taxes or my job or anything, but I miss being able to feel the wind on my face, the sun on my skin, even the stupid sticky feeling of leather on a humid day.\" \n\nChrissy walks over to the window. \"You miss your old life.\" I say. \"Yeah, of course.\" She says. \"I had a job, a good one. I had friends, family, and a stupid mistake took it all away.\" She sighs, and I stand up. \"Well, you have me.\" I say, walking over to her. \"I know I'm just one person and that's not a lot, but you're my friend and you saved my life, and for that I'll be forever grateful.\" Her eyes blink a few times. \"I know.\" She says. \"I'll let you get back to your book.\" She adds, and turns to leave. \"Goodnight.\" \n\n\"Wait!\" I say, reaching out on instinct. My hand touches her arm, and the both of us pause. It stopped, it didn't pass through, like we'd both been expecting. Chrissy turns back, eyes wide, surprise and shock lacing her features.\n\n\"Do it again.\" She says, and I hesitantly move my hand, down to her own this time. Her fingers are translucent, but they're solid, warm, a counterpart to my own, slightly cold ones. \"I don't understand.\" I say, as my fingers lace with hers.\n\nHer other hand takes my own, empty one. \"I can...I can...\" She whispers, breathless. \"I can touch you. I can feel you. This shouldn't be possible, I'm a ghost, I...I...how?\"\n\n\"Chrissy.\" I whisper back. \"This is real.\" \n\nShe smiles, pulls me close, mere inches away from me. \"Then I can do this.\" She says, and our lips connect. It's dry, smooth and tangible and intangible at once, and it just feels right.\n\n\"I've wanted to do that for a while now.\" She confesses, a small, bashful smile appearing on her face. \"So have I.\" I whisper back, and I lean into her touch. \"How is this even going to work?\" I ask. \"I mean, this is a really unique situation we're in, I don't think Wikipedia's gonna have an answer for this-\" One of her fingers comes up to my lips, silencing me. \n\n\"We'll figure it out later.\" She says. \"But for right now...\" Her hand drops back down, fingers meshing with my own. She takes a couple steps back and leads me away from the window, into the center of the room.\n\n\"Dance with me.\" She asks. I give her a smile, she takes a step, and I follow her lead.\n\nWe dance, all night long.\n", "“You.”\n\nMy grip tightened on the handle of my apartment door as I realized exactly who I had opened it for.\n\n\nFive years ago, were it not for the intervention of the man at my doorstep, I would have died. It was a stupid mistake on my part. I was running late to a biochem lab across my college campus and forgot to look both ways before darting across the street. The scream of skidding tires drowned out my senses just as something slammed into me, sending me flying. I can still remember how badly it hurt when the asphalt bit into my face. \n\n“Oh god, are you okay?”\n\nThe voice had come from directly above me, mere inches away from my nose. I opened my eyes, and there he was. The stranger that had tackled me out of the path of a speeding car. Without hesitation, this man had risked his own life for mine.\n\n\n“It’s been a while, huh?”\n\nHis voice. It was definitely his voice. Tinted with pain and uncertainty but still recognizable. The scene of the near-crash played back in my head over and over again, stuttering and tripping over itself with each loop. Trauma. Just recalling it was enough to make my breath hitch, and I found myself leaning against the doorframe. \n\n“You do...remember me, right? My name’s Trip.”\n\nA nervous smile played across the man’s lips, eyes almost pleading. \n\n“You saved my life. Of course I remember you.”\n\n“And...you remember telling me how I could come visit you in your apartment whenever, right?”\n\nIn all honesty, I didn’t. Last time I had seen him, hyperventilating and bleeding from my face, I was in shock. If I had written down my address on some scrap paper and tossed it to him, I had no memory of doing so. I nodded anyway and stepped back so he could come in, and that’s when I noticed it. \n\nI had been so busy either fixating on his familiar face or avoiding eye contact altogether that I’d failed to look down at his chest. When I finally did, my blood ran like ice. Trip had been shot. Out of the corner of my eye, I had assumed his shirt was a bicolor wash from white to scarlet. I was wrong. His shirt was white.\n\n“Holy FU-”\n\n“DON’T worry about it, it’s okay!” He held his open palms out to me as if to prove himself unarmed. “I know it looks bad, but it doesn’t hurt. I’m dead!”\n\nA strained laugh escaped my lips as he took his hand and swept it directly through his face. I closed my apartment’s door, stumbled into my kitchenette and shoved my hand into the fridge. The supposedly dead man sat on my couch, not so much as denting the fabric, as I withdrew an oversized bottle of cheap vodka and brought it to my lips. \n\n“Hey, stop that. You’ll make me jealous.”\n\nI glared at him. \n\n“Jealous that I can’t drink.”\n\n“What even...happened to you?”\n\n“Bank robbery. You know, I’ve always believed that there’s a little good in everyone. Always been so sure. I thought I could reason with the guy, but...” Trip gestured to the hole in his chest, grinning sheepishly. \n\n\nI stood with my arm braced against my open fridge, 80 proof burning my insides and dripping down my chin. \n\n“Why, of all places,” I coughed, “did you decide to come here?”\n\nTrip frowned. \n\n“People can’t really see me, Ana.” \n\nMy heart sank at the grief in his voice, and at the realization that he remembered my name. \n\n“I tried approaching friends, acquaintances, strangers on the street. None of them even noticed me, no matter how hard I tried. And then I remembered you.”\n\nI set the handle back down in the fridge with a clunk and closed the door behind me. \n\n“Only me, huh?”\n\nHe nodded solemnly. \n\nMy head spun a bit, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the situation. It was all too bizarre. Too surreal. And yet here he was. Maybe he was a figment of my imagination, but it all seemed too out of the blue for that. I hadn’t thought about Trip in years. So there and then, I made my decision. \n\n“You can stay.”\n\nAfter what he had done for me, it was the least I could do. ", "I open my eyes to see a partially transparent figure standing above my bed.\n\n\"What the hell!\" I blurt out while clumsily trying to scoot away from him.\n\nHe grins. \"HA! Gotcha! I told myself that that would be the first thing I do after I die.\"\n\n\"Scare the shit out of me?\"\n\n\"Scare the shit out of someone, you just happen to be in the house I'm going to live in.\"\n\n\"Excuse* me?\" I say, more confused than annoyed. I get out of bed and starts getting ready for work. He trails after me.\n\n\"Hey... You remember me, right?! I saved your life! Literally!\" He pretends to pout.\n\nI roll my eyes. \"Yes, of course, and I thank you again, Tom, I will forever be grateful. But why are you here?\"\n\n\"Well... you told me that I'm always welcome in your house, no?\" He grins cheerfully again.\n\n\"Yes, but... why? I get that you saved me, but we're practically strangers! Isn't that a bit weird to come live here?\" I walk past him and enter the bathroom to wash up. He lingers at the door.\n\n\"Nah... Here's one thing about me: I like adventures and change and experiencing new things. I like to live life in constant excitement,\" Tom pauses for a moment before laughing. \"That was ironic and I love it.\" I roll my eyes again, but couldn't help but find that a little funny. \"Anyways... My house is boring, I don't want to burden family and friends, and I sure don't want spend time with any of my asshole acquaintances, so... here I am!\"\n\nI stop closing the door midway and stare at him, dumbstruck. \"Oh, you were serious?\"\n\n\"Duh! And you can't say no!\" He says with a mischievous smile, \"Or need I remind you of what you said to me five years ago...\"\n\n\"Okay, fair enough. You can stay but there will be ground rules. For example: do not stand at stand beside me while I sleep, that is freaky as hell. Actually, don't come in my room at all before knocking.\"\n\n\"First of all, I am a ghost, dummy, I can't knock!\" To demonstrate, he reaches for the door but his fingers go straight through. \"Second of all, that's no fun... Your face was priceless just now. Can I pull the 'I literally saved your life card' again?\"\n\n\"Gee, great, saved my life and now you're going to scare the life out of me. Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.\" Sarcasm is practically dripping from my voice.\n\nHe giggles in response. \"Alright... I see your point. But I get to scare you when you're in other rooms!\"\n\n\"Um... How 'bout no?\"\n\n\"How 'bout I get to scare you occasionally and I'll make sure they're at appropriate timings?\"\n\n\"I repeat: how 'bout no?\"\n\n\"And I repeat: I literally saved your life.\"\n\n\"... Are you going to keep pulling that card on me? 'Cause that's so unfair!\" I say in protest.\n\n\"Yup, deal with it. Plus, your fault for almost dying,\" he laughs.\n\n\"Oh my God...\" I say, but I can't help but laugh too. That was morbid humor, but I sort of like it. I am sort of starting to like him too.\n\nAs if reading my thoughts, he says, \"Do you like me now? You so are going to love me! If not immediately, give it a few years, I'm not going anywhere,\" he ends in a sing-song voice.\n\n\"You might drive me insane before a few years is up if you're always going to be this annoying.\"\n\n\"Too bad! I saved your life!\"\n\n\"Hey!\" I purposefully close the door in his face, even though I know he can just walk through the door, and he does. I narrow my eyes at him, he makes a face in response. \"You are so annoying,\" I say, shaking my head.\n\nWithout missing a beat: \"We've already established that.\" I once again roll my eyes. He chortles.\n\nI can tell he's already growing on me, and now I definitely can't refuse. Life is about to get a whole lot more interesting... And I can't wait." ]	3
Inspired by a chapter from "[The Wandering Inn](https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/10073/the-wandering-inn)" by pirateaba	[WP] A country/race uses mass-produced soldiers who are born and die on the on the same day. You are one of those soldiers. Write about your one day of life.	[ "It's funny, they say time is relative. Time and our experience of it is shaped by life; how long it lasts, what we do with it, and how we choose to feel about it, all play vital roles.\n\nThose that came before us, the so called \"normal ones\" had much richer lives, they lived so much longer, they had so much more freedom, but what about how they felt? Did they truly make the most of the time they were given, or did they squander it until they realized they were running out.\n\nThat's what makes Us different, We don't have the privilege of leisure, We only know one thing, The Fight. Winning, losing, living, dying, it's lost all meaning, no one really knows how The Fight was started all those generations ago, and no one knows how it will end for not even the strongest of Us will live to see it. For you see, We were born cursed, from the very beginning our lives were ending. 24 hours, a day to You, a lifetime to Us. I wonder how you would feel if you knew that those who created you would outlive you. Your \"long life\" is nothing compared to the vastness of time, a millennium? phft a drop in the pool. There have been more of those than you can ever count, and their will be countless more.\n\nIt is nearly time, time to ship out, so I leave you with this. Do not think that what you have done to Us will be accepted lying down, it may not be tommorow, it may not be in a year, but you will get what you deserve. I'm off to fight in the war you started but didn't have the guts to finish, I may not be the end of the beginning but I can certainly be the beginning of the end.\n\n\nparting words of one Jamison Marshall. He died of natural causes, at the ripe old age of 24:01.\n\n\nsorry if I went I little of prompt there, I decided instead to write it more as a letter to persons unknown instead of describing a soldier's day, I'm not good with the whole battle scene thing. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it anyway.", "*We Dream.\n\nWe wake from the sleep of Not to the darkness of Am, and into the silence of our minds a chorus sings us songs of How. Pulsing like our nascent heartbeat these voices sing and fall silent, sing louder and fall silenter, filling us with the lessons of We. In the silences between, we rest and imagine and dream.\n\n\"The Subconscious Learning Program has been tailored to begin instructing the BDWS from the moment their minds attain a critical mass of complexity. The lessons are presented without words since teaching language was found to more than double the incubation period. SLP associates direct neural stimulus images with chemical learning and feedback. The BDWS are not meant to encounter complex concepts and so the images learned - and the reactions required upon said encounter - can be custom tailored to the individual conflict.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe Grow.\n\nAs the Am becomes We, an awareness grows of a world beyond the dark. A song of Sharp Dark becomes a tension and a rippling spread. A song of Everywhere Lost brings a release and calm. We are, beyond this dark, something real and present. The chorus becomes songs of action and We become both the Thought and the Act.\n\n\"No, that writhing you see in the BDWS is not pain. Physical responses must be taught and taught again, much like the training of a martial art relies on repetition. Because BDWS do not grow or heal - why would they? - we can begin physical response training as soon as the \"muscle\" has bound firmly to bone. BDWS perform response training at 105% of the safe limit of the myomer strands so that any engineering flaws are discovered before use. Structural deficiencies are irrecoverable at the unit level but immediate recycling can conserve up to 40% of the total cost of the unit and be applied directly into the following generation.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe Coalesce.\n\nWe know Up and Down, and know how to move Legs and Arms with great speed and precision. We are gifted the boon of Self, and a concept beside. The songs now turn to dissonance, and everything is Sharp. We find Places full of Who, and we must know that some Who are We, and some Who must be Chosen. We learn to Choose, with our Arms and our Legs and finally with our Weapon which is Ours. We learn again and again how to carefully Choose and make no error. No error can be permitted.\n\n\"The BDWS undergoes full grafting in the final 40 hours of its incubation. We have found that in order to significantly reduce rejection, grafting time would need to be increased sevenfold, so instead we maintain the 4% fail rate and produce the usable systems at more than double the rate of the initial generations. BDWS without weapons systems are still valuable distractions and fodder on the field, and do not trigger negative results in the IFF wetware.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe Kindle.\n\nStill in dark we come fully awake for the first time, and we Feel. Our Arms and Legs and Weapon pulse with the potency of Alive, and we Are Alive. The voices finally depart, truly gone, with only a parting reminder that We must be grateful for the Gifts we have been given. We breathe air in truth, though we have always known how to do it, and the rush as Our hearts beat fast and strong is elation unlike anything we have known. Sound is Sharp in our ears but it will soon calm and we will be Freed.\n\n\"BDWS are loaded in sticks of 128 with an expected aggregate Failure On Deploy rate of 5%, meeting the required drop density of 120 units per transport at six sigma. FOD rates beyond 8 per 128 simply result in the High Failure Rate transports shifting to the front of the wing to absorb initial casualties. Final endorphin delivery via wetware is given at drop minus 5 seconds, with adrenaline boosts every 45 minutes until unit failure.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe Are Free.*\n\nDarkness lifts as colors swim before Our eyes. Suddenly Down is gone and we become Everywhere Lost, trained calm keeping clarity as we instinctively swim in the air. The ground grows slowly closer and suddenly Sharp sounds appear. Above Us, We disappear in Sharp Dark - which only now We understand to be Light - and below, We see the Place. We see Who, and with joyful certainty We are free to Choose. We wear goggles; the tears that stream down Our Face are not from the wind. We are full of Joy and Gratitude to be Gifted this Life, and the Freedom to Choose.\n\nWe Choose again and again, as We know We were meant to." ]	2
	[WP] You get home, exhausted, single, self-employed. Overall, you would appreciate some company for once. But not like this.	[ "He climbed the last few stairs to the 10th floor, the elevator was out again. He was tired from what had turned out to be the day from hell, his alarm had failed to wake him and he'd missed his train. He'd had to take two buses across town in rush hour traffic and run the last quarter mile to an office building on the lower east side. By the time he'd got there he was over an hour late for his meeting and the client had decided to go with a different designer.\n\nThe rest of the day had been about the same, he had finished two projects which had lifted his spirits, but a server crash had wiped out half his files and it would be days before they could be restored from backups.\n\nHe reached the last step and opened the door leading to the hallway and his apartment. The hallway was dimly lit and he could hear faint sounds of life coming from the other apartments. He sighed, he knew there where no sounds waiting for him behind his own door. \n\nHe wished he had someone to come home too, to ask about his day, to tell all of his troubles to, he had been single for some years now, starting his own design firm ment working long hours and he simply had no time or energy to date.\n\nHe reached his door, his fatigue was almost total now and just wanted to collapse into bed. He went to put his key into the lock, which is when he realised something was wrong, there was no lock. It looked as if the lock had been burned out of the door and the door itself was slightly open. He paused, listening carefully, he could hear movement on the other side.\n\nHe pushed the door open nervously and stepped slowly inside, it looked as if the apartment had been ripped apart, the tattered remnants of his belongings where scattered everywhere. His heart began to race as he walked further into the apartment.\n\nHe heard a noise coming from the kitchen area to his left and realised he wasnt alone. He turned slowly to face the intruder, his hands shoock and his breath was slow and laboured. The daemon resembled a large dog, if a large dog had its skin removed. The creature snarled as it turned to face him. Terror embraced him completely and his bladder emptied itself, his mouth opened and he uttered a single word, \"fuck\". The daemon roared and charged forward on its massive paws, he tried to run....\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're the head physiatrist at a mental rehab center. One night, a noise downstairs in your house wakes you up at 2:13am. You go down and find a person that appears to be you sitting in your study.	[ "You'd never expect where I'm standing now, based on what has happened.\n\nTen years ago, I took a new job as the head psychiatrist for a hospital. Not that it matters now. Now, I stand, facing myself, five years younger than me, and looking like he's been through hell.\n\n\"AKL-4531?\" This person, standing across from me, has read the license plate to my first car perfectly, seemingly from my memory. He enunciated it like a question... Like an identifier.\n\n\"Why do you know my plate?\" It's a reasonable question, given the situation. Normally, I'd write it off as nothing more than an overzealous individual, but this was... Me.\n\n\"Good, good. We're closer to the center of the Temporal Rift. You're older than I thought.\" A small stutter, a flash of something on his exposed hand - my mind plays tricks, but it could very easily have been a sigil. \"Sheissen\" - broken, improperly pronounced German I'd picked up from friends and media over the years - \"CCK is breaking down. Quick - follow me!\" He guided me further into my study, practically dragging me by my shirt-tie.\n\n\"What is going on?\" The look I got over my shoulder was one of knowledge, but of insanity, of one who felt a need to share only as needed.\n\n\"We seriously do not have time to explain. Just know you'll need these.\" He handed me a pair of gloves - old, fuzzy winter ones like what I used when I walked into work in the winter, but new again. A chalk, red, and almost glistening, like it was covered in liquid. A knife, short, simple, of the variety used to cut steaks at a dinner table.\n\n\"Go!\" He pushed me through a door, deeper into my basement, but instead I stumbled into a parking lot. My doppleganger was behind me, more composed on exit, and closed the door behind me, where it changed into a stretch of wall, red scratches outlining where it had been.\n\n\"Damn, damn, damn! We're too far Netherly! The wretched will be here at any time. Follow.\" Considering diagnosing my own psychosis, I complied, seeing no other option. As we came out of the shadow of the building, I saw where we really were - a grocery store. More specifically, my first job. \n\n\"The farther a license is from the Origin, the earlier the dimension will succumb to Rift Fatigue - rising Aetherly it will be invaded by heavenly forces, gods, wyverns, et cetera. That's not where this dimension is going - it is where yours is, but not for a couple hundred more years. Look at the car.\" He pointed to an exact replica of the first car I owned - a sedan, a dent over the driver front wheel, with a license. \n\n\"CCK-7516. What does that mean?\"\n\n\"For lack of better labels, CCK is the name of the Dimension, and the farther from AAA it is, the earlier in history the Dimension was drug away from Stability by the Temporal Rift. It's labeled like this because, so far, only my - your - our - history has remained stable in every dimension. At this moment, we are likely cowering in the backroom, with nothing but a box cutter.\"\n\n\"Why would we be doing that?\"\n\n\"Remember what I said about Aetherly invasion? It happens going the other way too - if your license is odd on your first car, the dimension went Aetherly. Otherwise, it went Netherly. The Wretched are probably already invading, and they start closest to us - at least us in that Dimension.\"\n\n\"You said \"we're too far Netherly\"? That means... You're joking. This is some kind of sick joke and I'm gonna wake up in a padded cell, aren't I?\"\n\n\"That sounds familiar. Unfortunately I can't assure you of that. We'll have to push them back. CCK is an important dimension, we can't lose it this early.\" We had made our way around the back of the store, where the rear access door was thrown open, and I was greeted by another of myself. Dressed in what could only be described as a bomber jacket, in thick winter gloves.\n\n\"ADA! Bless the Stable, you're here! CCK won't talk to me; he's scared shitless. I have the wretched blocked off for the moment - pallets in the doors. You? Who's the new guy?\"\n\n'ADA' responded, \"It's AKL. Got him a little early, but it should be fine. He's completely clueless, but following well. Teach him the bloodchalk - I gave him some.\"\n\nI reached for the red length of chalk, and felt it squish in my hand. \"I still have it. What do I do with it?\"\n\nBomber-Jacket pointed me to a wall, a rifle roughly sketched on it. \"You draw. Doesn't matter what, and as long as you have the chalk, you'll be able to draw it. It does require a bit of a sacrifice.\" He walked over, placed his hand in the buttstock, and brought his knife down on it - the blood seeped to the edges, and burnt against the chalk. After a brief, terrible smell, Bomber-Jacket held a rifle. \"That easy. You'll get used to it.\"\n\n\"What the fuck?\" Two of us spoke in unison - myself, and a much younger one, climbing out of the storage closet, box cutter in hand. An answer never came, instead, a box on one of the pallets fell to the ground.\n\n\"INCOMING!\" Bomber-Jacket could really project his voice, it seemed. His next phrase was much quieter. \"I recommend you get used to your new reality, AKL, CCK - it won't get any easier.\" With that, he cocked the rifle.\n\nI stand in a store I quit 30 years ago, surrounded by myself, facing down some demon I can't yet see. What else could go wrong?" ]	1
	[WP] A historian notices some interesting things about the castle your family has owned for generations. He wants to inspect it, but you can't let him; The castle is MUCH older than everyone thinks it is.	[ "'Mr Watson, this offer is more than generous. If you do not accept this, I am afraid we will not be able to come to an agreement.' Harry Bishop stood by his car, sorrowful. He had grown up with the castle always in his eyesight and it had become a craving to know, to see, to learn what was inside. \n\nIt was what had been the ignition for his love of vintage buildings, the history they'd survived, the shelter they'd offered, the times they'd withstood. Uprooting his life, moving for the fifth time in 3 years, he took on employment as an auctioneer, allowed him to peruse the inventory which he knew would not satisfy him, yet when that opportunity arose, he dismissed it until he realised where he would be based. \n\nMoving back to Barston Wharf was supposed to be a crowning glory. The job held little interest, it was not the job he had spent so many years studying for. He had not spent so much of his life in Cairo, India, Hong Kong, Japan, Greece and Spain to sell trinkets to blind investors. The thirst to see inside Barston Castle took over him as it had at first sight around 5 years old. At 31, he was back and he would not be refused again. \n\nHis peers had all been refused with letters, not even making it to the intricately carved doors of the elegant and mysterious castle.\n\nHarry had sent a bunch of flowers with a message he would drop by the following afternoon. He'd been received a much warmer reception than anyone else before had, according to their relay of the conversation at least yet Mr Watson had answered none of his questions, allowed him not one step inside. As he stood with the man, he surveyed him.\n\nHis boots were well used, worn yet held a light shine as if polished at the end of each day. His trousers were muted in colour yet the fabric was thick and warm for the cold Scottish coast. His jacket was green and waxy, he dressed exactly as a farmer would including a flat cap but something in Harry's mind told him this was not entirely true. There was general day to day wear on the clothes so it wasn't that they were new or unused. Something was just slightly off and his curious mind wanted to know. Watson's face was friendly enough and his body language was not inviting but not completely closed off either. His words were carefully chosen and Harry was far from the first one to hear this polite refusal.\n\nHe'd been kept at the door and walked back to his car by Mr Watson, all the time being a gentleman though giving no information away. All he would answer is 'not to my knowledge' even on things as mundane if the castle had ever given shelter to wayfaring souls. Mr Watson would not even confirm if he were the only resident. It was truly frustrating and it bothered him immensely.\n\nMr Watson waved away the piece of paper Harry held out to him. 'No amount of money will open these doors to you my friend. It is nothing personal, simply a wish of previous owners that the current owner respects. I apologise for your wasted time.'\n\nHarry couldn't help himself, his bitter disappointment weighing on him. 'Could I use the facilities before I leave?'\n\nMr Watson simply smiled and bowed his head. \n\nHarry let the silence stretch yet there was no awkwardness to the moment. Mr Watson remained serene, unperturbed at the lack of sound. Harry closed his car door louder than necessary, muttering under his breath, dejected that the mention of him living locally moved Mr Watson not an inch. \n\nMr Watson, Charles, waited until the car made its way down the long path to the fifteen foot tall gate. Pressing the button, he closed the black wrought iron bars, estimating it would not be the last they'd seen of Mr Bishop.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nGoing home only to pick up essentials, he was back at the castle in under 2 hours. 'Hopefully I've not missed anything' he thought, now in a much better mood having cheered himself up with a stakeout of the place.\n\nHe parked his car off the road half a mile away, covered in as much foilage and branches as he could find, and made his way carefully closer.\n\nHe settled down not thirty feet from the gate, with as much of a view of the garden as was possible. He would be able to see anyone arrive or leave, if anyone wandered into the front gardens, he'd know. It wasn't what he wanted but if he could at least know who was allowed in, he could make other plans. There weren't many people in the historic business in this rural place, if he could learn of someone with access, he could contact them innocently enough through his work as an auctioneer. He was gleeful in his plans, his acuity.\n\nHe sipped from his thermal flask beneath the tarp he hung from two trees, rising only four feet. He had to keep his presence very much obscured which would mean he wouldn't be comfortable but he hadn't been exactly been in the lap of luxury while in the catacombs in Paris or in the jungles of China. The Indian heat hadn't agreed with him at all yet he had completed his work and even awarded for him finding the remains of three buildings lost to history.\n\nMr Watson closed the curtains as he performed his last checks around the castle.\n\nPicking up his radio he said 'Nala, he's watching. Do nothing for now except watch him. Perhaps he will have his fill in one night. Report to me in the morning.' Two bursts of static followed and Mr Watson completed his routine.\n\nHarry was thoroughly defeated come morning. His tarp had came loose at least four times by his count, the wind managing to lift it and dump all the ice cold rain water on him that had collected on it. The rain had lasted all night, settling into a very wet mist as he watched the sunrise. His flask was empty, and his water bottle hadn't been tightened correctly, letting the water leak into the already sodden ground.\n\nThe mist clung to his clothes as he shivered, his teeth chattering. He would not be able to warm up here. Discouraged, he packed up what little he had and walked to his car, he didn't have the energy to walk the convoluted way he had arrived by yesterday, the leaves on the trees above him had fallen overnight, as if winter was creeping in quickly. With no cover, and no way to warm up he had no choice.\n\nMr Watson was carrying wood in for the fire when he heard the two bursts of static on the radio clipped to his belt. 'You are a stubborn one, Mr Bishop.' he murmured to himself.\n\nCharles located Harry set up a little further away, in a much worse position yet still able to see some of the garden. At the back of the property, just beyond the stables was open fields, spanning miles in all directions. Trees dotted around, although flat there were a few places a knowledgeable person could hide themselves away. A large tree stood maybe twenty feet from the property line, its roots partially visible as the ground fell away into a stream. Harry climbed into his sleeping bag and secured himself between the tree roots, only the the tree protecting him from the brisk winds. \n\nTwo bursts of static sounded after midnight. Charles smiled. He doubted Harry would last long.\n\nIt was the wind that finished Harry. It whistled by him so strongly, his ears were frozen in pain, he couldn't hear the shout he knew he gave, his body was so cold in the unrelenting gale, he'd have to sit the night out in the car.\n\nOn the third afternoon, Harry picked a higher location, further away again, but this time parked a rental car closer. Someone had brought in old army listening devices at the auctioneers and Harry had blustered he would have them cleaned for the client so as to get a better price. He'd loaded them into the hire car and left it just outside the property line. He would find someone that could help him get access! There had been absolutely no movement that he had seen, no one arrived or left while he'd watched. The research he'd done today had re-energised him.\n\nHe'd scoured the newspapers and magazines this time specifically for any events held in the castle but for the last 100 years, there had been none. Harry's interest piqued again. Sure there weren't hundreds of records previously yet some marriage announcements confirmed they were to be married in the castle, at least one funeral was held there for an aunt of the owner at the time, in spidery, faded to the point of squinting, print.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;", "\"Why are you here?\" My father's question to the foreign man at the door is brief, abrupt, and unwelcoming.\n\nI lurk in the shadows of the stairwell where it is cool and where I can watch the scene unfold, unseen.\n\nThe man shifts and, before he speaks, he clears his throat of built-up phlegm. It is clear he is uncomfortable - but whether from the tone of my father's voice or the heat of the midday sun, it is hard to say.\n\nHis voise is nasally. \"I am a historian from th-\"\n\n\"Why,\" my father cuts, \"are you here?\"\n\nThe man stammers some more, then recollects himself in time to say, \"I have b-\"\n\nBut not in time enough.\n\nWhatever more words the man has left to say are only to be directed at the massive doors that my father has slammed in his face.\n\nThe echoes of my father's footsteps come near to me as he heads in my direction. I press my back into the wall and will my beating heart to be still. His eyes casually cut my way, and Im sure he sees me, yet he remains silent and continues on his way.\n\nI breathe. When he is gone, I emerge from my place of hiding and flee up the stairs.\n\nYears later, there is another foreigner. But I am the one who opens the door.\n\nThe face before me resembles the face of the foreigner in my youth. But younger. The son?\n\nHe says, \"Er, yes, hello. I am a historian from th-\"\n\nIn my father's voice, I cut. \"Why are you here?\"\n\nHe stammers and I shut the door.\n\nAs I stride down the hall, I sense a presence in the shadows of the stairwell and I casually cut my eyes over. I am tempted to say something to the spy, but a brief flash of memory makes me swallow my words and continue on my way.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are the one of ten dentists who rule the toothpaste empire. The other nine agree that you should be sentenced to cavity valley for your disapproval of the new oligarchy. On the run, you set off to tell the truth on why 9 out of 10 dentists recommend “Colgate”.	[ "For years I’d allowed my desire for Butterfingers to go unfulfilled. Eaten responsibly their effects on health, including that of your teeth, is negligible. However, I’d abstained from the sugary indulgence for years out of respect for my position as a dental professional. If I couldn’t be trusted to repel even the most minor volley lobbed at tooth health, where were the other mouths to gobble up their inspiration?\n\nI’d said I was a dental professional, and that’s exactly what I was, for years. Then I became a professional dictator of sorts, followed, I think inevitably, by a profession I worked harder to become than any of my previous occupations - a fugitive. Even more importantly, alive.\n\nAs I stood panting heavily - a testament to me being, increasingly temporarily, among the living - I stared at a large box in the impulse aisle by the cash register of an out of the way service station I stopped into for food and floss, compliments of the cash I swiped from the guardhouse when escaping the work farm. It was brimming with king size Butterfingers. I grabbed one, and then two, and then the entire box and just set it in front of the cashier. My eyes were fixated on the yellow wrapping accentuated by the blue print stretched boldly across it. If these had been bars of gold my gaze wouldn’t have been more intently affixed. The cashier said a price but I wasn’t paying even the slightest attention, nor were my eyes going to leave this visual feast for a second lest the vision vanish, along with any hope for life’s worthiness to be preserved in the first place. I simply pushed a c-note in the direction of the voice and then scooped the change into my pocket, staring all the while at my prize. I cradled the box like a newborn and set it delicately in the back of the stolen Jeep that had proven so pivotal to my escape. The box hadn’t settled for ten seconds before I was devouring my first one, wrapper thrown to the wayside and twisting in the wind in my hurry to disrobe it for pure, carnal pleasure.\n\nI felt reborn. I was tearing down the pillars I’d erected, stone by stone. Society wasn’t something to be stubbornly fenced in for the sake of maintaining an established order any longer. Boundaries were something to be tested now and power uprooted. The glue that kept the powers that be - being - was a hefty dollop of Colgate toothpaste. Yes, those who know best teeth’s strengths know as much or more of its weaknesses. A rabid dog wouldn’t do much damage without canines to sink into your throat, and when my fellow Dentists and I began to see the society brushing with mouthfuls of our prized product as persons foaming at the mouth for a new order (imagined as the insurrection may have been) there was no question that the teeth of the people needed removing. \n\nWe couldn’t let the oh so necessary to any established order “others” succeed in their supposed rapacious conquest of all “we” hold dear. Forget, if you will, that the current order was designed only to protect what ten dentists at the helm held dear, and literally nothing more. Our first enemy was the Crestor cartel, never mind that they’d quit vying for power in any meaningful way longer than a wait in the lobby of my first office with nothing but a three-year-old magazine to keep you company ago. We needed an excuse to firmly root our power, and we had no shortage of boogeymen to justify our actions or Colgate revenue to fund this bloody end. It was as perfect as a brand new pearly white. But we went too far. That’s certainly how I felt when I found myself in the same dentist chair I’d drilled away at society in. Regardless of the epiphany’s impetus, I can see clearly now, and that’s what matters.\n\nI barreled down the dusty highway with already a third Butterfinger in hand, chunks of it nestled snugly in between my teeth. I didn’t care one bit. I ran my tongue over these nuggets and just laughed. I should’ve been driving a bit slower, what with being on the lamb, but this chocolate had me on a high I wasn’t even licensed to give my patients when I practiced. Wrappers were tossed along with so many of my former, self-imposed shackles. Like with all of the best highs, life’s biggest problems and trickiest riddles seemed suddenly simple and all too easily solved with just a twist or two of life’s Rubik’s cube. With pleasure like this possible, you think, what could possibly be powerful enough to overcome its ecstasy? \n\nFor starters, the pleasures of the most powerful came at the expense of the many, but I was willing to forget that for a fleeting moment of candied revelry. Also like with many highs, the paranoia of life has a way of creeping in with a vengeance after staving off fears for too long. I began to ponder the skill level of the Colgate Commander (what we’d jokingly dubbed our secret police) who’d undoubtedly catch up and drill the cavity that is me off of the frowning face of the earth. Would it be a newbie making his bones or someone so seasoned that killing me was a duty so familiar it was merely slapped onto a daily to-do list right before picking up eggs for Barbara? Personally, I hoped it was someone seasoned. Not so much because it would be a cleaner death, I just didn’t want to hear the silly movie-line type yells more inexperienced executioners emit in order to hype themselves up for the act. \n\nSo how did the state I helped build perceive me? The quality of my assassin would surely reflect in some way on their view of me and by proxy my view of myself and every choice I ever made. If they felt I was a masterful marionette, I’d have a seasoned vet who’d expel me with peace and quiet. If I was a petulant numbskull in the eyes of my colleagues I’d hear some quip that doesn’t quite fit right before being shot in the shoulder first probably, accidentally. I’d seen enough rivals done away with to have a sense of the differences in style. After all I did to reach the pinnacle of a society intent on my violent death, it would be nice to know that I was at least respected on some level by those I sold my soul to.\n\nDriving along at my inappropriate speed it wasn’t long before I saw lights flashing behind me. Without an ID and with a face on the forefront of every authority’s mind given my escape, it wasn’t long before I saw a gun barrel being pushed in my face either. \n\n“You know it wasn’t speeding I got you for. They sent me. Hm,” he chuckled, “You were They, and now you’re Them. That trail of wrappers certainly didn’t help you leave any mysteries in your wake.”\n\nLight streamed through the kaleidoscope of interlocking tree branches overhead, illuminating the box of Butterfingers in the rearview mirror. I glanced at it, sweating profusely all the while, and a grin involuntarily began to stretch the corners of my chocolate stained mouth as I wondered whe...\n\n(Gun cocking click) “Momma always said to brush behind my ears! Er, to floss every...fuck it” (gun shot explosion).", "Day 1: Nevada- The air is dry and cold but its nothing compared to the heat at the bottom of cavity valley. They didn't think I'd escape alive but they under-estimated the power of water. Again of course. They never tell people water is as important as tooth paste. Greedy bastards.\n\nDay 2: A trucker picked me up. He was an odd fellow who wouldn't stop asking questions. I don't think he knew I was on the run but he said we were headed for Austin. Wrong direction but its away from Cavity Valley. I don't think they know I'm alive still. I hope that's true.\n\nDay 3: They know. I saw the commercial today. It was a veiled threat but a threat none the less. \"Cavities are parasites! Colgate hates parasites!\" I probably should lay low for a bit but its urgent. We haven't made Austin. The trucker got drunk with a dancer in El Paso last night. I need a new ride. I didn't think Texas was this cold. \n\nDay 4: Got hooked up with a migrant caravan. They made me drive. They wanted to head toward Florida but instead I headed north-east. We made Missouri before they realized. I feel bad. Casualty of war I suppose. Hopefully someday they will forgive me. I threw them a $100 for gas. Probably not enough. Missouri is surprisingly nicer than I imagined.\n\nDay 5: Crossed the Mississippi today. They are full force now. I just saw I've been implicated in the murder of a 94 year old woman. They say they have my dental records proving I bit her in the scuffle. Fuckers are serious. I really need to lay low. In Kentucky. If i can catch a freight train to West Virginia tomorrow I stand a chance.\n\nDay 6: Mission accomplished. I'm in West Virginia. I know I can get a ride from here. I just gotta find someone who knows just how bad big tooth paste is. Shouldn't be hard.\n\nDay 7: Total failure. Couldn't find a bad set of teeth anywhere. May have been to bold. Certainly set some people off. Guess the stereotype was wrong. Had to camp in the woods. Afraid someone might see my face on the news. USA Today gave me half a page. \n\nDay 8: I had to scramble. Found some mountain hippies headed for Vermont. Thank god. These dudes hate toothpaste. And the news. And the cops. And showers apparently.\n\nDay 9: Made Vermont around noon. Burlington Sucks in November. This place is cold. Looking for a ride to New Hampshire. That will get me close to him. He can fix this. Hes the only one.\n\nDay 10: Made New Hampshire. Didn't see my name on the news today. I think I can do it.\n\nDay 11: Dead Day. Apparently there is about 5 people in the mountains of NH. Apparently of those 5 nobody goes anywhere.\n\nDay 12: Got my break. Some kid headed to Kennebunkport. Real preppy douche type. Who am I to judge though. Finally made it to Maine where he is. Will approach in the morning\n\nDay 13: Success. I made it to him. As I walked up to the door, I saw him. Gleefully I exlaimed \"TOM!.....................................\"\n", "He was worried the Eisenhower Pass might be closed. They’d shut it without warning often long before the blizzards started to turn the width of the I-70 into well-tilled ice furrows. He’d got through the tunnel alright, and the roar of the Superbird calmed his nerves while the radio sunk to static beneath the mountainside. His own car, the Plymouth from the lock-up by Wadsworth Boulevard had been the only option. Hell, he’d maybe told a handful of people it even existed. \n\nThe radio caught a second wind when he emerged, spluttered to catch a signal with the snow and drowned out the heater. He tried high-beams again. No dice. Please Christ let the unfrozen part of the windshield stay clear. I don’t need it long. Only ‘till Silverthorne. Just another few miles. The traffic slowed, and the drum brakes in the Plymouth threatened to ram him into the back of “A C Ernest and Sons haulage”. Ice ground against the Plymouth’s undercarriage and thankfully succeeded where the brakes failed. The traffic halted then, front and back. \n\nDon’t stall. Jesus Christ, don’t let it freeze. The tank said half-full. Was the indicator broken or had Hayle said it was alright? Fuck. Nate turned to the back seats and reached for the map. Observation Station 6. West Of Siverthorne, past the tourist traps and luxury hotels of Breckenridge. Hit Vail and you’ve gone too far, you poor bastard. There was a second file of documents under the piles of clothes on those back seats, and 06 was stamped onto each heading. He’d helped approve it. By God, he’d helped sell the fuckin’ stuff. \n\nHe didn’t check his mirrors. It wouldn’t have helped with all the ice. The man was courteous enough to knock on a window. It rolled down.\n\n“Hi Nate. Good to see ya.”\n\nThe man in the sports car didn’t react. Zero-eight leaned on the door for support, and took the liberty of unlocking the passenger side. He poked his head through the window. This salt was going to kill his Italian-leather shoes either way.\n\n“Mind if I sit down?”, asked Zero-Eight. “Love the car, hombre, really, it’s a beauty to waste out here in the dark and the ice, eh? Didn’t your Mamma teach you to look after old shit like this?”\n\n“Fuck off Jemil. You abstained from the council,” said Nate. “It’s my decision.” He unclicked the safety.\n\n“What, you gonna shoot me with that, chico? Shoot me here while you’re trapped like a fucking dog freezing in the middle of the I-70?” \n\nThe Beretta stayed in place. “Say what you came for, Jemil.”\n\n“You sure I can’t sit down?” \n\n“I’m going to the observation station. Leave me, and I’ll end it. All of it, and you won’t-“\n\n“Alright, hombre, I know, spare me”, said Zero-Eight, “but tell me this - what happens once you reach those steel doors down in the mine? Then what? You go there, make it to the Colorado Gate, say that you do. You gonna blow it up? Use those stolen codes to undo decades of work?”\n\n“You said it was safe. You told me. Jemil, you looked me in the eye and said what we were selling them is safe. Yet here we are, eh?” The wind had dropped, and thick snowflakes began to settle on his windshield. “Millions of souls poisoned and sacrificed,” he said. “And wasted.”\n\n“I told the council you wouldn’t go. I promised them, Nate. I can’t break my word, man.” \n\n“I don’t think you grasp what it does, do you? You have no idea what’ll happen if you ope-“. Nate put one hand up in shock, and Zero-eight was fast to disarm the Beretta. He was glad he hadn’t shattered the driver side window. Pity, man. He damn liked Zero-Six.\n" ]	3
	[WP] It's the 2100s a powerful organization bombs all telecomunication and internet hubs. The world can only communicate through a small group of highly respected messengers. You just completed you training to become one.	[ "From what Preston could tell, the Courier Service operated out of an observation tower that was from the pre-Silence era. It lorded over the pines and blue spruce and had enough windows on all side that the person stationed had a commanding view of the valley. Preston noticed the dual antennas that stuck out from the light gray gambrel roof. They were mere ornamentation after all that had happened, good for catching lightning from the storm clouds that rolled through the region. He climbed the steps that wrapped around the tower four support beams. The wood felt sturdy, sunlight glinted off the bright metallic bolts that held the wood planks together. On either side of him was a set of railing that showed how committed the Service was to upkeep. Twenty feet in the air and he stood upon a wooden deck that branched out from the white walls of and portrait sized windows of the tower. The front door was open before his boots even touched the welcome mat. She stood there waiting for him.\n\n\"May I see your orders, please?\" She asked. Another item that had been revived with the Silence was the first piece of equipment a courier received, scroll case. His was dark gray, wrapped in black leather to grip with a sealed top to keep water out. The woman who took up the case was middle-aged with brown hair, brown eyes, and a touch of tan to her skin. \"A new blood, huh?\" She asked as she scanned the document.\n\n\"It's my first week,\" Preston said. While he had grown up in the area, he had not quite managed to get any sort of tan. He was not pale, but he was shade pinker than what the sun would forgive. His hair was dark, and his eyes were a bright, curious hazel. He spotted on one of the corners of the deck a mirror attached to the post.\n\n\"A signal mirror?\" He asked.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm in contact with one other tower in the region. Most of the messages we send with the light code are simple messages. Danger, calling for help, fire spotted. If we need to send something complex, we depend on you couriers to take care of it.\" She half-turned and tossed the letter on a gray topped card table that sat against the wall closest to him on his right. \"We are hoping to get a radio set that actually will work on the local level, but that's looking far and away right now. You have much field experience?\"\n\n\"We ran through a few exercises. I slept outdoors... for a night. I've got my guidebook somewhere here about edible plants on the road.\" He reached into his khaki cargo pockets to check.\n\n\"Hey, don't sweat it too much. My name is Delilah, and I want to welcome you to the Picket-Y. Do you know what we do here?\"\n\n\"You... observe for fires?\" He frowned when he received neither smile or nod from her. She gestured towards one of her many windows and said, \"Not just fires anymore. Since the Silence and the break-up, we have to keep an eye out for suspicious activity, fugitives who may come through after escaping a town or off a chain gang. We keep an eye out for dangerous animals or severe weather in-bound... though that one is the hardest to pull off, usually we don't have enough sun for the mirrors. The point is, and I cannot stress this enough, we need our Couriers who can run messages or packages throughout the picket line or back over to Bixby.\" She turned from to walk over to a refrigerator that was as tall as the Formica covered drawers. She knelt to grab two water bottles, one that she offered to Preston, the other she drank from herself.\n\n\"So, you are fresh as they come and they dump you here. You talk back to much at training?\" She raised a brow at him.\n\n\"I volunteered, actually. I heard working the picket was a good way to advance.\"\n\n\"How far you want to climb, kid? Courier Master for Tallpines? Or you want to go as high up as Regional Master?\"\n\nPreston shrugged, \"I don't know. Maybe just work back in Bixby as a sorter, something easier- I'm sure I'll have earned an easy job when my tour here ends.\"\n\nDelilah offered a small. She noted as she tilted the water bottle in hand, \"Maybe so. You might just grow into hard work, anything can happen.\" She screwed the cap to her drink before she returned the used bottle back to the fridge. From his view, he could see one of the towers in the distance. It was a similar look, both in building style and in the same white paint that covered the walls. As he looked outwards, a sudden bright flash struck his eyes. He blinked a few times, his arm came up to block another set of mirror flashes.\n\n\"Hmm... looks like Ned's tower is calling for help. That's our cue.\" She said.\n\n\"Ours?\" He turned to see her pull a long barreled slugthrower from a cabinet. She spoke as she checked the weapon.\n\n\"Yeah, us. I need to see what is going on, you may need to get a message over to Bixby.\" Her eyes flashed to his. She tilted her head to the side, \"You wanted to volunteer to work the Picket, and now you're getting your wish. So, grab a rifle, Courier, we are about to start a day in paradise.\"", "\"In the wasteland that lies between The Bubble and The Dome, the weed flowers grow taller than men.\n\nThey bloom with the brightest colors you have ever seen, glowing from drinking the wasteland's radioactive rains. Your guidebook will warn you about their petals, that they are designed to distract you. This is true. But I want you to know that you also must not forget their roots. They stretch deep and far beneath the soil and allow the flowers to feel your footsteps echoing through the earth. That's how they know where you are, cadet. If you see a weed flower, a brilliant jewel of color in the distance, you should still try to run. But know that it's probably already been watching you for miles.\n\nOnce it decides to target you, a weed flower will release a pollen that will tickle the pleasure centers of your brain. The scent will remind you of your dearest memories and deepest temptations. It is known to cause hallucinations and the overwhelming urge to come closer to the flower, an urge to try to drink its nectar. Cadet, you must resist this urge.\n\nAlways remember, weed flowers have teeth.\n\nIf you make it past the flower field, you will have made it half of the way to The Dome. You will then have to cross the sand ruins. This is where I was born, and where I lived for sixteen years before coming to The Bubble as a refugee. I have drawn you a map of the ruins, which is also in your guidebook. Do not rely on this map. Since the last of the sand ruin human residents either sought sanctuary or were slaughtered, the mole people have been collapsing and restructuring the ruins as they please. If you step carelessly, their tunnels will collapse beneath you, trapping you. Then, the mole people will take your eyes. They will make you crawl through their tunnels, blind as they are, but without their other senses to guide you. You will crawl until you starve. This happened to many of the people that I loved.\n\nThe mole people think it is a very funny joke.\n\nIf you manage to make it through the sand ruins, it is because the weight distributors we've designed have worked and gotten you over the mole tunnels without collapsing them. The only barrier you will have left will be the door to The Dome itself. Do not underestimate this barrier. The citizens of The Dome are not welcoming to outsiders, and they allow entrance to only those deemed to have potential worth to their society. We have chosen you for this mission, cadet, because of your exemplary scores on both our physical and mental aptitude assessments. You should know that, despite this, you still may not live up to the demands of The Dome's tests.\n\nThe founders of The Bubble's society designed it with the intent to return to simpler times, before the creation of the technology that would lead to the terrible bombings that created the wasteland. But the founders of The Dome's society took a different approach. They embraced all forms of human advancement in an attempt to be evolve beyond the weaknesses of the generation that chose to use the bombs. We have reason to believe that this has included the practice of eugenics and cybernetic enhancements on their citizens. Your raw potential may not be enough for their standards.\n\nIf they do allow you into The Dome, you must get our message to their leadership as quickly as you can. With their advanced technology, they may be able to help us, but the cracks in The Bubble are spreading quickly. This isn't public knowledge, cadet, but all our attempts at fixing or stopping the cracks have failed. If the people of The Dome don't intercede, The Bubble will shatter. Our whole society will be left to the whims of the wasteland.\n\nI grew up in the wasteland, I know what it's like. And I know that the people who've grown up in The Bubble - your people - are too soft too survive it. I promise you, if the Bubble shatters they will die.\n\nThis is what I've trained you for, cadet. Follow your guidebook. Follow my warnings. Deliver our message.\"\n\n\\---\n\nThanks for reading! Constructive criticism & feedback welcome. If you enjoyed this story, you can find more like it at r/kaypella" ]	2
	[WP] After decades of research, you and your team have officially concluded that humans are alone in the universe. Humanity doesn’t take that too well.	[ "As humanity reached its arms into space seeking a companion it only encountered darkness. Alone in bold letters ran across every format of media. There was no escape from this truth. For years our ignorance of the Spero cluster was a comforting one. Its distance was so far and its clouds so thick, making it so only the slowest form of searching for life was possible which gave us a century of that peaceful ignorance. It was a problem for future generations to grapple with, and they did just that.\n\n\"Our deepest fears have been realised\" blared the Monoset which the Remison family so heavily invested their modest income in so they could receive signaling 30 standard minutes before their neighbors and most of the planet. The Remisons though only living modestly have always been and always will be religious leaders. Unlike some people in this position, the last 3 remioson family leaders would not abuse their power for a more comfortable life. They truly believed.\n\nWhen Willam Xali Remison found out we were alone he and all like him were estatitic. They have been proven right. The universe was made for us. This was the evidence that they had lacked since the phrase \"Where is your proof?\" was uttered. The faithful did not need this evidence, the rest would. It was finally humanities time for all of it to be freed from doubt, and accept the truth.\n\nThere was a small influx of converted followers to the planet, but not as much as they had prepared for. The welcoming parade's \"Newly Freed\" section was only a trickle, and the feast that was prepared was meant to feed ten times those who had attended. The confusion of the leaders was palpable to those new recruits, which shook some of their new found faith.\n\nIt was a couple of days latter when Willam and his family heard the news through the monoset. The leader of the Unified Commonwealth of Humanity came onto the short podium, a tradition since the ancient republics, adjusted his tie and said \"The need for something more outways the morality of creation\" Willam's ears turned red. The need for something more? \"We are the something more!\" his family shrank away from him. He wanted to go to his congregation and scream the truth from his pulpit but he needed to wait, he needed to compose himself for tomorrow's sunday sermon and use the anger of the people to ride it like a wave. A wave that will carry him further than any Remison before.\n\nThe crowd was larger than normal, even on faith worlds many were apathetic and only attended the festivus sermons. But today every seat was filled, the back of the room was lined with standing people, the walkways were blocked with sitting bodies. The chater silenced as he walked into their view. Willam paused took a deep breath and began. \"We have underestimated how much they have enjoyed living in darkness. We have underestimated how little they value us. Instead of coming to the truth themselves they have blockaded themselves from it. Greater yet they will drag us into the darkness with them, with their act of greatest sin. The creation of life, intelligent life. We have been civil and generous for generations as a way to show the rest of humanity the righteous way, but they paid it little attention. They have mistaken it for weakness. Now they would walk over us, use the resources of a thousand planets to create a new intelligence? Our world? And the other worlds of the faithful? Just because we have been civil they think our faith has diminished? We will not stand for this, We will stop this blasphemous project at any means necessary. Even if it means a breaking of a unification that has stood since the Shame. We will not be dragged down by them. We have waited for them to come to the truth, but now we must bring the truth to them.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] When I was young and I'd had a bad day, mama would always tuck me into bed with a kiss on the forehead and tell me "the sun will rise again." Now mama's gone, and it's been 143 days since we've seen the light.	[ "It takes 8 minutes. 8 minutes and 20 seconds. That’s how long it takes solar rays to reach the earth from the sun, through the vacuum of space. \n\nI was sat by her side. Holding her frail hand as the last breath slipped from her lips. A smile on her face, as always. Fearless. She had contracted cancer the year before, and the news had shook me like a hurricane. Her, however, as strong as ever, took the news in stride. She lived every last minute of her life as full as she could, until this day. April 25th, 2020. The day my mum was taken from me. My rock, the women who gave everything for me all my life. I kissed her on her forehead and let my tears roll down my face. Little did I know that as her light faded, so would ours. \n\n8 minutes. \n\nThere was an unholy sound of cars crashing outside the window. Like I’d somehow placed myself into an action movie. A shiver ran down my spine, I moved towards the window and drew back the curtains. Nothing. Blackness. Had I gone blind? I ran to the door, and flung it open. My neighbours clearly had the same idea because I could hear scrambling, the entire street lit like a candle, at 3pm. What the fuck was happening? \n\nI never got to burry mama. The bodies were too many, the world was in chaos. NASA officials couldn’t explain it, the sun had just disappeared. Here one minute and gone the next. The temperature steadily began to drop, the ozone we’d inflated with greenhouse emissions actually being helpful in maintaining the earths core temperature for a while longer. It wasn’t enough though. It was the apocalypse, and I was terrified. \n\nI wasn’t resilient, and I didn’t have the will to fight when I thought it was futile. I sat down, my back to the door, and wrapped my arms around myself. \n\n“Will the sun ever rise again mama?”\n\n(I would have made it longer and better but I started writing it on my phone and it’s on 1%. I tried) " ]	1
	[WP] You start doing something (walking, writing, dancing, eating... whatever you want) and realise that you can’t stop.	[ "Charlie dished up some pasta for himself, humming a simple tune. Grabbing the cheese and the grater, he began putting a generous portion onto his plate. After a few seconds, he decided that he didn’t want any more, but just as he was about to stop, an intrusive thought forced itself into the front of his mind.\n\nDon’t stop.\n\nFear caused his blood to run cold. Why couldn’t he stop? Surely he was having a hallucination or something. He had lost complete control of his body. The feeling was so strange, so alien that he inadvertently began to shake. Still, the thought persisted.\n\nDon’t stop. \n\nThe cheese was nearly gone, and Charlie hoped for salvation, but as soon as it finished, he was overcome with an insatiable desire to obtain more cheese. He went to his refrigerator and found a massive amount, and as he grabbed it, he could have sworn that more took its place. He was not able to linger, as his instinct and every fiber of his being forced him back to his plate to continue.\n\nDon’t stop.\n\nThe cheese began to overflow the plate, and yet Charlie still could not stop. He was beginning to feel weary, the constant motion of heating taking a toll after several hours. His mental state was not helped, as he was having a constant inner battle with himself. He so deeply wanted to stop, to rest. But his body refused.\n\nDon’t stop.\n\nIt had been days. The cheese was up to ankle height on the floor. Charlie couldn’t remember anything except the soreness of his body. He was so tired and he could only concentrate on trying to stop grating the cheese. He was so thirsty, his mouth dry. The cheese was beginning to decompose, filling the room with a horrible stench. And yet, he still did not stop.\n\nDon’t stop. \n\nCharlie was reduced to a pile of skin and bones over the course of the next few weeks, his arm in extreme pain, feeling as though it were about to fall off. He stared at the sea of cheese he created through bloodshot eyes. He had given up long ago, his body moving mechanically to continue the single task. All humanity was gone from those eyes, leaving a sort of mad gleam. The stench of the room was unbearable, yet Charlie hardly noticed. His legs had long since given out, and he was slowly covering himself in cheese.\n\nDon’t stop.\n\nCharlie died a slow and agonizing death of asphyxiation as well as simultaneously being crushed by over 400 pounds of shredded cheese. The cheese broke through the floor of the apartment, killing the family living below. The police came to investigate what had caused the damage, and all they found were 5 corpses buried by cheese and an enticing cheese grater." ]	1
	[WP] You’re at an arcade playing one of those impossible claw games. You see a card that says ‘Girlfriend’ you try for it jokingly, and end up getting it.	[ "Julian's room was being illuminated by the full moon as he lay in bed. He held the card up and fiddled with it as he studied it. The card was was the same size and shape of a playing card, except the paper was extremely heavy weight with a beautiful slick sheen. It was colored a deep magenta, the word \"girlfriend\" was written in a cute, Barbie-like script. The whole card was overlaid in holographic. As he fiddled with it in the moon's glow he thought he could see a female face in the glitter of the card. He flipped the card over giving it another glance. Words appeared on the back. He squinted at the card, \"was that there before?\", he whispered to himself...\"MmY-co?\" He tried to pronounce it, \"whatever, its just a stupid card\", no one was there to listen....he shrugged to himself laid down and went to sleep.\n\nThe next day, Julian sat in his last class of the day, he glared at the clock as the teacher droned on about the importance of studying for the finals; he mocked her in his head \"senior year is faaar more easier than your next freshman year would be\" the voice in his head matched her tone and pitch directly, and he giggled to himself when he thought about her voice modulating when she drew out words; he thought it sounded like she was trying to juggle balls in her throat. \n\n\"Is there something amusing?....Julian!\" She slammed her hand against the board in unison with his name, he snapped his head around to look at her...\"No, Mrs. Peak\", he turned his head back to look at the clock, just three more miserable minutes. He let his thoughts drift and began to think of the girlfriend card. He wondered what the word was on the back of it...what it meant.\nThe bell rang and Julian sped out the door, through the hallway,and into the sunlight of the day. He paused to let his eyes adjust and to search for his friends. \n\nDerek and Tay we're waiting for Julian at the corner waving him down, hurrying him up. \n\n\"Hello, ladies.\" Julian mimicked tipping his hat as he greeted them.\n\n\"You are what you eat, my friend\" Derek smiled, he was quite impressed with his own cleverness\n\n\"You eat ladies?! What the fuck, man?\" Julian let out a loud roar of laughter.\n\n\"Right?! Man, cannibalism doesn't suit you...plus.. you're kind of an ass hole...\" Tay looked back to see the confused faces of his friends, he waited for the question...\n\nDerek, trying to make sense of it and coming up empty, finally caved, \"What's me being an asshole got to do with anything?\"\n\n\"Cuz, man,\" Tay explained, \"you gotta be able to get away with shit like that...and you ain't no , Jeffery Dahmer.\"\n\nJulian shrugged in agreement, \"you are an asshole\" He said it like he had just given Derek an official diagnosis. \n\"Man shut the hell up, it's not like you're getting any pussy these day!\" Derek had gotten a bit butt hurt in the exchange, his friends had recognized his tone and fell silent.\nJulian put his hands in his pocket...in his right pocket, there was something...\"is that a card?\" He thought...he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it out slowly...\"that's strange\" he accidentally said out loud...\nDerek, looking around as if searching for a way to change the subject, noticed his bewildered friend..\"what's that?\"\n\"Nah, uh..I was at the arcade last night and played one of those claw games and landed this wierd card.\" \nDerek snatched the card from Julian's hand to inspect it further. \"Girlfriend!!!! Ha! Oh my God, bro for real?...are you gonna wish and pray on it that you lose your virginity before college???!!\" Derek had had gone into a frenzied laugh.\nJulian rolled his eyes and was trying to ignore Derek, he turned to Tay, \"Hey, do you know what..MmY-co means?\"\n\"I don't know, bro,\" Tay was puzzled \"spell it.\" \n\"M-i-c-o\" Julian said, he grabbed for the card and snatched it back from Derek who had become a howling maniac...\"always laughing at his own jokes,\" Julian thought. Julian inspected the card, the back looked blank, but he could see the word. It's like the ink was bleeding out of the card, the word getting darker and darker...he turned it to face Tay.\nTay took a closer look and shrugged..\"well, Mico-petra used to be a card game, so if it's that, you're right...but, if it's a name..\" he paused to sound it out in his head...\"me-ko\" is how I'd pronounce it.\"\n\"Me-ko\" Julian repeated. He looked hard at the word on the card..\"Miko\" he said again, \"I kinda like that\" when he looked up his friends had Frozen in place. They were staring at something behind Julian...\"What?\" he questioned and turned to look..\nA black ball had appeared, except it wasn't a ball, it was ..2D, and it looked fuzzy. It hovered in the air a moment and then began to grow bigger. The boys, moved back a short distance, silence hung in the air with the mysterious darkness. Just then, a long slender leg, toes first, like stepping backward off the ladder, slipped from the orb, followed by another. Long legs where followed by a bare and ripe bottom and a slender waist. Pink hair came flowing out like a river of cotton candy as an upper torso and arms appeared. Finally, a head full of pastel pink emerged. Hands graced the edge of the mass, holding on, as the figure dropped to the ground and spun round to come into full view. She was shapely and beautiful, her purple eyes were gentle, her smile as graceful as her curves. She stood naked and yet poised.\n\n\"I'm Miko\" the girl stated, staring at Julian,\"...you called?\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
Inspired by Star Wars: The Old Republic, but you can set it in any era (Clone Wars, etc.). Let me see what you've got! I'll write one myself in a bit! First post here, looking forward to seeing what you all can come up with. :)	[WP] You are a Jedi Master, being hunted by a Sith Lord and their apprentice, a Bounty Hunter, and an Imperial Agent, chased to a final battle on a world near the edge of the known Galaxy.	[ "Not even the dry, rocky desert world of Amasis could keep them at bay...\n\nCorran Vigil stood at the edge of the cliff, where he'd been perched for quite a while now, ever since he had watched the Sith Interceptor descend through the clouds, followed by a D5 Mantis and an X70-B Phantom. He knew they'd come for him. He knew they were looking, and this would be his final standing point. After all, should his goal come to fail, he would be better off dying on his feet than living on his knees.\n\nKira, sweet Kira, had wanted to come with him - she was as bold and brash as he was, and he had a hard time telling her no, but he wanted her to be safe. Doc offered his pistols, Scourge his lightsaber, Rusk his repeater gun in assistance. They all pleaded with him, and he refused thoroughly, opting only to take his loyal droid, T7-01 with him. He didn't want to put them through any pain should he fall to the blades and blasters of his opponents.\n\nDrawing on the Force, he meditated for a time, his sandy blonde hair blowing in the wind and his beard bristling as he felt those hunting him approaching. Footsteps could be heard coming closer, and his concentration was broken. With a sigh, he stood and stretched his neck. A few moments of silence followed, before the clean and crisp accent of a Chiss broke through, a dull sound of weapons being armed.\n\n\"We gave you a chance, Jedi,\" he called out, and taking aim with his blaster, his red eyes piercing, \"Turn and face us! There's nowhere left to hide!\"\n\n\"Did we decide how we'd split the effects once we polished him off?\" the rough voice of a Mandalorian chimed in next, \"I want his lightsabers. Those things have gone through hell and back. Make one mean token out of 'em.\"\n\nHeavy footsteps followed and a lightsaber blade was ignited, followed by softer steps and a double-blade being lit. As Corran turned, he could see them all at a distance of less than twenty meters from him. The Mandalorian in his armor, the Chiss in his pristine white uniform, and the two Sith - one, a Togruta of red and white coloring and next to her, a Kaleesh.\n\n\"Didn't think you'd follow me out here,\" Corran grunted and stepped forward, shrugging his Jedi robes off, a simple white tunic and black pants beneath, a pistol and two lightsabers on his belt, \"You're all awfully far from Dromund Kaas or Nar Shaddaa.\"\n\n\"It is not your concern how far we are from Dromund Kaas, Jedi,\" the Kaleesh declared and stepped closer, swinging his blade in an agile manner as the Togruta extended hers and stepped to his side.\n\n\"Now, Xalek, don't be so harsh. Master Vigil has run a long way and there's no further to go. With that said, any last words you'd like us to give... Kira, was it?\" she grinned a toothy smile, her sharp teeth fitting perfectly together.\n\nSomething in the way she spoke ground at Corran's very core, the insensitivity with which she asked, the cold and steely gaze. He felt his peace with the Force growing thin alongside his patience, and stretched his fingers, one hand poised to grab the pistol and the other a lightsaber.\n\n\"Reconsider that question. You have one chance,\" his voice sounded almost alien to him. As he stepped forward threateningly, the Chiss and Mandalorian both raised their pistols, the Chiss clucking his tongue.\n\n\"Not a step further, Jedi. You can come peacefully and meet your maker, or you can die here on this rock,\" the Togruta spoke.\n\n\"Not likely,\" Corran grunted and quickly raised his pistol, an ion bolt firing and striking the Mandalorian, his armor shorting out and causing him to growl while he attempted to fire back. The bolts were met with a deflection from a blue blade. Tension returned to the air.\n\nClever as the Chiss was, he may not be clever enough to outwit a Jedi, and backed away firing as the two Sith approached, their blades swinging. Corran dropped his pistol to his belt and ignited his other lightsaber - a bold yellow one - and moved forward to meet them, a veritable duel engaged as the Kaleesh, the Togruta, and the human whirled in a dust cloud that was thick enough to blind even a smuggler with the best vision macrobinoculars Galactic credits could afford. The Mandalorian was able to gain a vantage point, as his armor's power restored and he ignited his jetpack, flying above the swirl of blades and firing off a triple barrage of rockets.\n\nThe three Force users scattered, rejoining their battle. Corran Vigil was the Jedi Battlemaster for a good reason, and even Ashanaa Tashro, Darth Nox herself, had difficulties keeping up. Her apprentice Xalek, agile as a beast, used his brute force to attempt to overwhelm Master Vigil. This apprentice was nothing compared to that of a Jedi Master. Between them, Vigil extended his hand and used Force push on the ground, sending both Sith flying backwards and onto the ground. In her distraction, Nox had left her apprentice undefended.\n\nXalek struggled mightily, as she leapt to her feet and tried to rush to his assistance. Her Chiss and Mandalorian accomplices approached her from behind and fired off rounds to try and help. She raised her hand and swung her blade. Her gaze narrowed and she tightly pursed her lips as she saw the Jedi's two blades swing vigorously towards the single red one of her apprentice. It lasted merely a few moments, as Xalek's blade was smashed and slashed out of his hand, and a yellow blade stabbed and emerged through his torso, a cry of pain and anger as he dropped to the ground, slumping over. Adding insult to injury, the Jedi kicked his body off of the steep cliff to the oceans below. She could feel his anger - perhaps to her favor.\n\nThe Mandalorian laughed and stepped back a few steps.\n\n\"I didn't sign up for this, lady. You couldn't pay me enough to die in a way like that,\" he spoke and shook his head.\n\n\"Where are you going? Are you a coward?\" she spat at him.\n\n\"I have survival instincts,\" the Mandalorian replied and stepped back, putting his pistols in his holster, the Chiss staring incredulously.\n\nDarth Nox would wait no longer. Swinging her double blade, she stepped forward and let out a Togruta war shriek, baring her teeth fully to her Jedi opponent who slowly stepped, pace by pace, swinging his blades.\n\nThe two met in a flurry of saber action. In the midst of it, Nox managed to twist her blade and separate the hilt into two sabers, one for one meeting his swings with parries of her own. It was a beautiful, furious dance, light meets dark in all of its brutality. Both dodging shots from the Chiss who kept trying to get the perfect vantage point on the Jedi, now that the Mandalorian had decided he had had enough.\n\n\"I've been waiting a long time for this,\" the Jedi grunted through his teeth and pushed hard at his Sith opponent.\n\nStaring him square in the eyes, teeth bared fully, she growled back, \"And I've been waiting a long time for you to die!\"\n\nIt was the perfect ending. Her rage was showing her blind spot and she was vulnerable. Twisting around, Corran ducked under a swing and moved to her opposite side, beckoning her to him. Ducking again from her swings, a trifecta of blaster shots were heard and suddenly all went quiet. Nox slowly looked down to her chest, three holes shot into her, blood dripping, then pouring. She exhaled, a laugh of pity as she looked up at her Jedi opponent who switched off his lightsabers. As she switched hers off, she began to drop. Corran caught her.\n\n\"This is how I die. In the arms of a Jedi,\" she chuckled and spat, blood now beginning to pool in her mouth as she coughed.\n\n\"You die a noble death in combat. There is no shame in that,\" he whispered to her, glancing up at the Chiss, who stood stoically.\n\n\"Your moral victory brings you... no...\" she trailed off, Corran closing her eyes and then slowly laying her down. As he did, he stood, igniting one lightsaber, his blue one, staring at his Chiss opponent who still clutched his pistol, aimed straight at him.\n\n\"Leave this place! Return to your master, and tell him that Corran Vigil lives another day. And so do you, if you choose to heed my words!\" he exclaimed boldly, his blue eyes meeting the red of his opponent.\n\nPalpable tension filled the air. Pistol aimed, saber brandished. Was there really to be only one survivor today?\n\n\"I am a pragmatist, Master Jedi,\" the Chiss bowed his head and holstered his pistol, slowly stepping away, \"I bid you good day.\"\n\nAll the while continuing to face the Jedi, he slowly retreated, a steady pace. Corran Vigil did live to survive another day. He didn't earn the title of Jedi Battlemaster by diplomacy, that's for sure." ]	1
	[WP] In a last-ditch effort to save the planet, humanity has established small walled-off cities with population limits, the rest of the population left on the outside to restore the environment. You live on the outside and have just received a letter requesting your presence in the nearby city.	[ "No one really expected the apocalypse to happen so soon. Most people knew the planet was dying, near the end. And don't get me wrong, there were people actually trying to help. They arranged rallies, told people how to \"save the Earth,\" cut down on energy use, recycled. The whole works. \n\nBut no one expected the Earth to actually give out until it did.\n\nIt was terrible. Severe drought in some places. Major flooding in others. Wildlife and plants literally went up in smoke. Billions of people were dead within the first few weeks. And if people weren't worried before, they sure were now. A bunch of the major scientists and engineers from around the world got together to arrange a solution. What they found was a temporary stall.\n\nThey decided to gather up all the world leaders, as well as a few thousand 'randomly' selected individuals, and put them in completely solar-powered, closed-off cities until they could think of a better solution, or until the Earth became habitable again.\n\nOf course, that left the rest of us who weren't so lucky.\n\nPeople reverted back to a primitive, tribe-like state. If they saw outsiders close enough, they would fight with the makeshift weapons they had. Millions more died in the ensuing turf wars. Only those of us who were exceptionally strong or exceptionally lucky survived.\n\nNow I estimate there are only a few million people left alive on Earth.\n\nI am among them.\n\nI never joined any of the major clans--they never appealed to me. However, I had my own clan, of sorts.\n\nSometimes, a child is born in one of those cities, and it makes them go over the population limit. So, the high-ups throw the kid out. Whenever I can, I try to help the kid survive. After all, they're no more than babies at the time. Most of the time they don't, but on rare occasions they do.\n\nDecades have passed since this all started. A type of peace has settled over the land, in no small part, I know, due to the fact there are so few people left to fight.\n\nBack when Earth wasn't this messed-up hell hole and things were normal, I was a Botanist. Not the most interesting profession back then, I know. But invaluable now.\n\nMy followers have swelled in rank from the kids I've saved and from others who want to join my cause that I've met along the way. I am the oldest among them, so I'm something of a father to them all.\n\nThe common thread between us is we all want to make a difference. Hopefully someday, probably long after I'm dead, we will.\n\nSo for now, I keep going. Even though we die, even from things I would have laughed at back when everything was normal, we keep going. We keep planting, from the few seeds we do manage to scrounge up. And I keep telling myself we will make a difference.\n\nMark, one of my older kids, rouses my from my musings with a shake of my shoulder.\n\n\"You thinking about that letter?\"\n\nI look down at the notice I got from one of the cities. They wanted to give me an award or something for 'significant efforts in rebuilding the planet.'\n\n\"It's complete garbage, is what I think of it.\"\n\nMark just shrugs. Never a talkative one, that Mark. Even when we helped him from that landslide, all he said was a quick 'thanks.' He showed his gratitude more through actions.\n\nI look out at the grove of trees we managed to plant here.\n\nIt's really not much, only nine, small saplings. When I look at how few there are, I start to doubt. We had more even bigger trees, not too long ago, but we made the mistake of planting fruit bearing trees out in the open. They were raided by another gang for food, and there weren't enough of us to stop them. We couldn't even find a single seed remaining.\n\n It was frustrating. Even when facing humanity's biggest threat, people were still apathetic and selfish. Up against ourselves, what could we really do?\n\n\"Do you think we can make a difference, Mark?\"\n\nMark looks at me inquisitively, as if confused by the question. \"Of course I do.\"\n\n\"How can you be so confident?\"\n\nMark seems to think about the question for a while. He turns his head slightly, and looks out at the grove of trees with me. After a few minutes, he seems to decide on an answer he likes.\n\nHe simply says, \"You made a difference for me.\"\n\nI look at him and think about what he said for a while. I look back out at our small, grove. So small, but so, so much better than nothing. I nod.\n\nMaybe I can't make much of a difference in the long run. Maybe all of this would be for nothing. Maybe I can't save the Earth.\n\nBut what can I say? I'm an optimist at heart, even after all of this. Mark is too. So are all of my children.\n\nWe can make a difference.\n\nTogether, I know we can.\n\n\\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nSorry this was so long! You gave a really fun prompt, and I wanted to go in fifty different directions with it. I think I like this one best, though. Comments and critiques are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed!" ]	1
	[WP] She's denied it but to them, the evidence is indisputable--she's a witch. Despite her pleas they prepare to burn her. The fire gets hotter and the people gather, but to their surprise (and hers), she isn't burning.	[ "\"Stop, please!\"\n\nThe woman's sobs could hardly be heard over savage crowd's screams for murder. The woman in question is a young lady, hair red as the setting sun, skin pale and smooth as porcelain, and her eyes a lovely deep green. Not all is well, however, as she is tied to a wooden telephone pole at the edge of the plaza, her clothes are in tatters, and bruises, cuts, and tears besmirch her face.\n\n\"Do not listen to her! Do not be fooled by her insidious wiles! The witch must be punished for her crimes against our humble town and its honorable residents!\"\n\nThusly speaks a tall man in jeans and a button up shirt. Sweat hangs on his brow, his blonde hair is messy and clumping, and deep bags rest under his eyes. Yet he continues to direct the madness of the crowd, leading them in their terrible ceremony. In one hand he holds a crucifix, the other he uses to pile wood at the woman's feet.\n\n\"I'm not - I'm not a - witch!\" she says between her sobs.\n\nThe crowd ignores her and continues with their orders. They pile wood around her, whatever they find: firewood, branches, broken tables and chairs. There is an insane fervor in their eyes and in their movements. But there is more: joy, anger, relief, exhaustion. And terror, there is also sheer terror in their eyes, just barely contained by the words of the priest.\n\nFinally satisfied, the priest picks up a red gasoline container and begins to pour its contents all over the woman. The crowd cheers as she screams, the gasoline getting into her cuts and scrapes. After drenching the woman and the wood, the priest tosses the container aside and reaches into his pocket for his lighter. He flicks it open and turns it on in one fluid motion.\n\n\"Please, you don't have to do this!\" sobs the woman but her pleas fall on deaf ears.\n\n\"My brothers and sisters,\" proclaims the priest, \"Here we have the witch! Here we have the one who killed Bentham's cows in the night! Here we have the one who seduced Karla's boy into going into the desert! Here we have the one who led calamity into our town!\"\n\nThe crowd roars in response, raising their rifles and guns and bats and whatever they could use as a weapon. The woman looks at the priest, pleading with her eyes. The priest then holds up his crucifix to silence.\n\n\"My dearest brothers and sisters, though we do this to rid our town of its curses and blights, we must not do this with hatred in our hearts and with our blood boiling! For God is all knowing and all loving! We are not sending a witch to a burning hell but a lost soul to the Lord's loving embrace! So kneel and pray, my brothers and sisters! Kneel and toss out the hatred and vengeance and terror in your hearts! Kneel and ask for forgiveness for what we must do, for Jesus said to love thy enemy!\"\n\nInstantly, the entire mob drops to its knees and loudly prays for forgiveness. For a moment, hope flashes in the woman's eyes. The priest looks her in the eyes and there is no anger there, no fear, no madness; only love and a deep sadness.\n\n\"Be cleansed in the fires of the Lord,\" he says quietly.\n\nThe woman sees the lighter almost jump out of his hand and towards her chest. She has heard that burning is the worst way to die. She might not know what it is like but she unwillingly imagines it. She has suffered burns a few times in her life: stepping an a coal when she was camping with her parents, touching a hot glue gun, grabbing a straitening iron from the wrong end. \n\nThe woman is screaming before gasoline even ignites. It is a terrible scream; it is not one of physical agony but the scream of someone who feels true hate for the first time in their life. It is the scream of someone who has given up on surviving. It is the scream of someone who curses God. It is the scream of someone who awaits terrible agony. An agony that never comes.\n\nThe lighter ignites the gasoline and the woman is engulfed in flames. Though she continues to scream, she feels no pain. The orange tongues lick at her bruised and beaten body but she only feels a gentle caress and pleasant warmth. At this realization, her screaming stops as she attempts to process what is happening. She looks out beyond the flames to see the crowd begin to panic and point their guns at her. The priest also levels a handgun at her, his voice drowned out by the roar of the fire. \n\nAnd suddenly everyone collapses. The woman can barely see through the fire but she sees a figure walk over the bodies of the crowd and towards her. It waves its hand and the fire suddenly disappears.\n\n\"Excuse me, are you by any chance Ms. Jennifer Hardwick?\" the figure asks.\n\nThe woman, Jennifer Hardwick, looks at the figure. It is a short young man with long black hair and glasses. Despite the blistering heat, he wears a long brown coat. At his feet sits what must be the fattest cat in the world.\n\nShe simply stares at him in disbelief. She was unsure if who stood before her was an angel or a demon. After a few moments, he clears his throat.\n\n\"Miss, are you or are you not one Jennifer Hardwick?\"\n\nJennifer slowly nods. She was exhausted, beaten, and bloody, What did it matter who this was if they came to help.\n\n\"Most wonderful! My name is Gaius Julius Felix and I would very much appreciate if you would come with me.\"\n\nGaius steps onto the pile of wood as he says this. He snaps his fingers and Jennifer is suddenly freed from her bondage. She is caught by Gaius who carries her a short distance away before sitting her down on the ground.\n\n\"Oh dear, aren't you in a sorry state,\" he comments as he reaches into his coat.\n\nJennifer does not respond, Her mind is far too jumbled from stress, pain, lack of sleep, and from trying to figure out how she is still alive. She simply continues to stare at him blankly.\n\nGaius retrieves a glass tube filled with a black liquid and topped with a cork stopper. He yanks the cork of with his teeth and spits it away. He then holds the vial in front of Jennifer's face.\n\n\"Here drink.\"\n\nJennifer stares at the vial and then at him. Somewhere in her mind she understood he spoke but she could not make sense of what he said. Gaius rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the liquid.\n\n\"See, it's not meant to kill you. Now drink.\"\n\nThis time Gaius brings vial to her lips and she slowly drinks it. It tasted like coffee mixed with donuts. The pain from her beating lessened significantly, as did the fog in her mind.\n\n\"Better?\" Gaius asks.\n\nJennifer nods. The cat jumps onto her stomach and simply stares at her. \n\n\"Excellent. Let's get out of here, shall we?\" Gaius says as he lifts her and continues walking.", "((Apologies for the formatting.))\n\n\"I'm not a witch!\" She screamed, pure terror and desperation in her voice as she struggled in vain against the ropes that tied her to the post. The people in the crowd surrounding her didn't even bat an eyelash at her pleas, instead simply shouting out for the fire to be lit and for the witch to burn. \n\n\"I'm sorry, this is for your own good,\" I whispered to the girl as I lit a torch on fire, before touching it to the pile of fuel surrounding the wooden stake and the girl on the pole.\n\nIt took several moments for the fire to begin spreading, licking up the wood and kissing the poor, begging girl's skin. She screamed and cried, but soon quieted, a mixture of confusion and relief spreading across her face. She was being consumed by the flames, and yet she was not burning. \n\nThe crowd was awestruck, but soon used this little miracle as the metaphorical fuel for their own fire of hatred. They chanted: \"Kill the witch! Kill the witch!\" Even as the fire burned the clothes off of the girl's skin. However, she remained unscathed. \n\n\"I'm not a witch,\" the poor, poor soul pleaded and cried, struggling futilely against the wooden stake she was tied to once more. I watched, motionless, despite the rapid movements of the crowd around me.\n\nIt was true, the girl wasn't a witch after all. I was the witch, but no one would ever even consider the possibility of a person in the crowd being the one to cast a spell, let alone the very person who started the fire.\n\nIt was the perfect revenge, life would never be the same for the poor girl again, if she even lived through the coming moments. But, it was what she deserved, for all the wrong she had done to me.... her very own sister. ", "REBIRTH: PART I\n\n\\\\\\\\\\*\n\n“Lyon please!” The thick iron chains that bound her wrists rattled violently as she thrashed against them. The mousy thin boy stepped backwards as her eyes pleaded to him in desperation. The rest of the crowd stood silent, their expressions were no different than the rain worn statues that bowed their heads before the town’s single church.\n\nThe visiting bishop read claim after claim, speaking of black sorcery and unholy witchcraft. He rattled along, his withered voice simply adding background noise to Farah’s tearful begging. They all knew there was something unnatural about the girl. The way she could almost lift and entire wagon with one arm, the copious amounts of food she scarfed down at the dinner table. No one would have expected that her strange quirks would cumulate into accusations of witchcraft and heresy.\n\nFarah’s pleas grew faint and her voice grew tired. She gazed out into the crowd and to the people she knew best. She spent her entire life in Fallsburrow yet those that she felt closest to stood silent in her time of need. Arvey, the smith that she spent years bending metal for now simply stared at the dirt in shame. Lyon, the shy farmer's son who once gave her blushing looks now couldn’t raise his chin to meet her eyes. Inside she begged for someone, for ANYONE to step forward and challenge the bishop.\n\nBut no, they all stood paralyzed – strangled by the authority of the bishop and the power of the church. Farah stood alone upon a pile of cinderwood. Alone and bound to an iron cross that restrained her unnatural strength -strength that she only ever used to do good and aid those now poised to watch her burn.\n\nIf only they knew how bishop Maldain tried to force himself on her the night before. If only they knew about her fearful flight into the woods to escape him…\n\nThe flint was sparked and the inquisitor grew closer with a freshly lit torch. She couldn’t look. She didn’t want to think about the pain, about her skin being seared by the lapping flames, about the smell of her own flesh cooking within the crackling pyre. She closed her eyes and prayed it would be quick.\n\nThe dark veil cast by Farah’s own closed eyes flashed red then white. She knew the pyre was lit. The crackling boomed all around her, bombarding her ears with terrifying snaps and pops. She screamed uncontrollably and thrashed wildly against the iron cross. What she thought would be searing pain was instead lukewarm, like a summer river. She braced for the pain but it never came. There were gasps in the crowd, followed by bewildered whispers. Something was wrong.\n\nShe opened her eyes. The flames curled around her body, having already burned her ragged dress into cinders but finding nothing more to feed their hunger. Her skin refused to burn, instead the flames danced playfully upon her arms and legs. She stood upon the pyre, wide-eyed and confused. The chains and cross that bound her were now glowing white hot, like forged steel. She stepped forward and broke free from her molten bindings with little effort.\n\n“Witch! Demon!” The arch bishop jabbed toward her with a leering finger. “Kill her! Kill her now!” He screamed.\n\nIt was then that one of the bishop’s guardsmen drew a pike and charged forward. The gleaming spear tip never reached Farah. Instead the man stopped in mid charge and rasped. There was a large glassy object protruding from the man’s chest. It was a misty spear, a spear completely forged from winterfrost.\n\nBishop Maldain’s inquisitor and the crowd drew back as a figure approached from the edge of the town square. It was heavy framed man, fully clad in the armor of a Nordic raider. Hoarfrost followed the man’s every step, covering every mound of grass he stepped upon in a tessellation of ice crystals.\n\nThe torch bearing inquisitor stepped forward and the cold wind snapped at him, snuffing away the flame he held. The red and white robed inquisitor then pulled a silver cross from his vestments and raised it against the looming figure.\n\n“In the name of the Lord stay back! I command you! Begone from here!”\n\nThe Nordic figure stopped and the howling winds around him subsided to a whisper. His pale blue lips spoke one word.\n\n“Fools.”\n\nThe man’s winter veil suddenly wailed like a banshee’s cry. From the deep mists came an armory of icy weapons. Axes, swords, spears, clubs. The shimmering shapes tore through the inquisitor, sundering him into giblets of meat and crystallized blood.\n\nThe remaining guards and townspeople began to flee in panic. The Nordic man extended his hand, commanding his array of killing frost to sail through the air and into the crowd. Limbs arced through the air, sprays of red crystal followed, and screams were cut short. There was chaos, then silence.\n\nFarah stood in shock. The flames of the pyre and the iron that bound her were long doused by the man’s winter aura and her skin prickled as the cold bit at her. In mere seconds this man had rended everything that she knew from the world. She tried to speak.\n\n“Who…”\n\nThe man turned to face her. Two glowing azure eyes met her gaze and the man’s long white beard danced in the wind as his weapon’s returned to him, once again fading into the mist they were born from.\n\n“Do not fear child. I am like you, a kindred. They call me Skare, the Second Star of Winter.”\n\nThe man's introduction was interrupted by a muffled plea among the rows of dead. “Please…” a voice trembled.\n\nFarah shifted her gaze to see a bloody bishop Maldain crawling through the mound of bodies. She gasped.\n\nThe Nordic man approached the bishop, each step crackling the floor with ice.\n\n“Please, Lord please! Spare me!” Maldain begged the heavens.\n\nThe Nordic man turned towards Farah. “Child, are you ready to understand what you truly are?”\n\nFarah simply stood there. It was all just too much for her to process.\n\nThe Nordic man raised his arms into the sky. The mist surrounding him swirled violently and consumed him, becoming a howling twister. The winds expanded, enveloping Farah and threatening to pull her into the sky. In the eye of the storm she saw a massive form taking shape. Two azure crested wings reached into the sky, their tips reaching for the sun. A large spined tail emerged from the winds, crashing through the center of a small house.\n\nBefore her stood a towering dragon, its body lined with rows of white scales that faded into a deep blue. Bishop Maldain screamed, begging the Lord for mercy. The creature’s snout lowered to level with the tiny bishop. Razor sharp teeth the size of a shortsword hovered inches from the man’s blood drained face.\n\n“Little human.” The creature bellowed. “There are only two gods in this world: magic and science.” The dragon raised a mighty claw into the air, blocking the sun from the bishop’s view. “You will soon understand that neither one is kind or merciful.”\n\nThe claw came crashing down and the bishop's screams were drowned by churning earth." ]	3
	[wp] you're an arms dealer, and one of your clients keeps asking for odd things, like carbon-fibre composite longswords or kevlar-reinforced full-plate armor. curious about his requests, one day you follow him to a warehouse only to find that he's somehow created(?) a portal to somewhere else...	[ "After i delivered his uhhh... ballistic plate helmet and kevlar tower shield, i followed him all the way to his weirdo warehouse. And then there was a... purpley-blackey thing. My client was in his kevlar plate armor and looked like a knight of sorts. He stepped through the purpley thing. Probably a portal? I followed him as well. Darkness enveloped around me. Then i dropped into a place i have no idea of. I saw my client on the horizon, battling a... machine? I saw two girls, one shooting with a hunting compound bow at the machine with explosive arrows and one of them shooting darts through a full auto AK74 replica? After a few minutes, machine growled and fell to its knees. Then he saw me. Sheathed his sword and ran to me. \"Arthur what are you doing here?\" I froze for a second. Then asked him. \"What...is this place?\"\n\nHe called the girls and then handed me a modified AK47 that shoots AP bolts. \"Welcome to Earth X. Machines overrun this world and thanks to you, we are getting the means to stop them. Conventional bullets do not work on them. That is why we either use bows or swords... or crossbowized rifles.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are an inhabitant of RTGame's One Road City. As you begin your daily commute from 2728 Smith Street, you hear the words: "A meteor strike has occurred.."	[ "It was everywhere. On every channel was the warning. ‘A meteor strike has occurred. Please evacuatie the area immediatly.’ Or at least, that’s what I think it says. Its hard to hear with the hard noi...\nCOUNTRY ROADSSS. \nTAKE ME HOOMMEEE. \nTO THE PLACEEEE. \nI BELOOONGG. \nWESTTTT VERGINIAAA. \nMOUNTAIN MAMAAA. \nTAKE MEE HOOMMEEE. \nCOUNTRYY ROAAADSS. " ]	1
	[WP] All Floridians secretly have the power to channel chaos at will. You've lived in Minnesota your whole life when your Dad gives you the news: you were actually born in Florida.	[ "He heard the words but processing them was whole a other can of worms. Waiting for a reaction, Oliver Nilsson's father, leaned in. \"We just really didn't think it was something we needed to talk about.\" A taste of bile began to form where Oliver's esophagus met his throat. Oliver knew that all there was to vomit up was the half can of Monster Zero Ultra he had consumed an hour ago. He had skipped lunch so he would have time to drive to St. Cloud's Cloud Saint, the premier vape shop in the city that he thought he had lived his whole life in.\n\n\"I just... it's a weird thing to find out when you're thirty-one. Why tell me now?\" He forced a chuckle until his father gave him a look he had never seen before. The eyes that had seen countless Vikings games spoke something akin to \"I don't want to say it, but you know why\" Oliver was uneasy, not because he thought his life was better or worse due to his newfound origin, but because of the creeping suspicion that this was a bigger deal than it was being made out to be.\n\nNot relishing in today's surprise, he became irritated with his father. \"You know I have a lot going on with the truck in the shop. Couldn't this have been a phone call?\" They both knew that the conversation had deeper implications than they wanted to admit. But like many sons and fathers, they left their reservations unsaid and ended their visit with a handshake that masqueraded as a hug.\n\nOliver stepped outside his childhood home. A chill ran through his body. \"Jesus,\" he muttered to himself, \"fucking cold.\" As he got into his rental car, a thought occurred to him that he usually would mock. Maybe global warming was not as bad as they thought. Maybe scientists were just trying to get their projects funding by using scare tactics. After all, it is mid-September and he was already wearing his down jacket. He had always been affected by the cold more than the rest of his family, but this year the cold seemed to settle in his bones earlier. He dismissed these unwelcome conspiratorial thoughts as crazy but they tarried deep in his consciousness.\n\nHe focused his thoughts on finally getting his beloved truck back. It had been 9 days since a homeless person had shattered a window with the goal of finding a location to (apparently) shoot some heroin, and defecate in the backseat. The Nilsson's had kept Oliver generally sheltered and protected from much hardship, so this act of aggression was one of the worst he had suffered. Eagerly he commanded the Bluetooth \"Text Slippy. Be there in ten, you got The Punisher all ready?\" Not a minute passed before a notification of a response appeared. \"Hell yeah its already BROHAM ill see you then.\"\n\nAs he pulled down Slippy's driveway, he swelled with pride. Oliver could have went to a dealership for his car repair needs. He could have paid a little more for the guarantee that everything was done by the book. But Slippy could use the business and he had always been the type of person that was hurt down deep when friends didn't ask him for help. Slippy, Oliver thought, fancied himself a friend over all other labels. And despite being generally unreliable and far more concerned with good times than good grades, if there was one thing that he excelled in, it was cars.\n\nHis self-congratulation was cut short as his temporary midsized compact careened by his truck. The window had been replaced (and he assumed the smell was gone) but there had also been some unrequested modifications. Slippy had his arms crossed and legs splayed to display his obvious self-assurance that his friend would love the custom job he had done on his beloved truck, The Punisher.\n\n\"How you like it, man? I got this all done and couldn't wait to show...\"\n\n\"What the fuck is this supposed to be, Slip?!\" Oliver fumed. As he got closer to his friend and truck he noticed more and more details about what used to be his regular black Ford Explorer. The Punisher had a fresh coat of shimmering black on it, as agreed upon. Of his own volition, Slippy had placed a large white skull logo on the hood of the car. On both of the vehicle's sides read the words\" The Punisher\" with only a slightly smaller subscript of \"Slippy's Customs.\"\n\nIn addition to the paint job, two floodlights had been affixed to the car's roof. This extended the height of the car to well over seven feet and its owner was awestruck by the gaudiness of it all. When he looked back at his longtime friend, the smug look had been replaced with a dejected one. Slippy's expression broke his heart because the reality was so starkly different from the expectation.\n\nOliver knew the kid gloves had to go back on. Briefly his anger almost reared its head again when he realized that Slippy expected him to be hoisted onto his shoulder for this homage to white-trash America. He consciously dialed back his tone and tried to express confusion but it came out even worse, as disappointment, \"You were just supposed to fix the window and have it cleaned, man.\"\n\nSlippy, composing himself, explained, \"You said I could trick it out. I thought that meant you wanted the works. We always used to dig on cars like this, remember?\" If Oliver's heart was already broken by his simple friend's reaction, it was now nearly pulverized. He could vaguely remember a time in their teen years when they looked at pictures of personalized trucks. Clearly this memory meant a lot to Slippy and it was barely an anecdote to him. Guilt washed over him and he began to walk back his comments further. \"It does look pretty dope, man,\" intentionally choosing a word the men had used as boys. \n\nThe rest of their exchange was an awkward play of a man sparing the feelings of a friend and the friend trying to unhurt by the initial reaction. The men parted each other's company more unhappy with their own politeness than with their friend. \n\nOliver had an uncomfortable revelation as he sat in his newly acquired hillbilly hoopty. Once he was out of sight, he enjoyed his car's new height and look. He knows it was neither practical or conventionally attractive but he did \"dig it.\" He wasn't mad at Slippy. He was furious at himself for liking this. Oliver had always thought of himself as a mostly classy guy and he would never go about this himself. But Oliver thought this was cool, \n\n&#x200B;\n\nUGH. Off to teach the youth of America. Back soon." ]	1
	[WP] You know it has to be some kind of mistake. How else does a devil in training, get an internship in heaven	[ "It smelled of roses, Abad noticed. Not the kind of rotting thorny once along the highway to hell he had taken on the way up. No, the smell reminded Abad of a washroom. Unlike hell's version of one, this didn't have the distinct unpleasant sweaty heat nor the noise of a roaring washer in the corner. \n\nAbad was wearing his finest suit. Black leather with a skull motive and a firey red tie that went with his crimson skin. He smoothed his hair back between his horns and tucked the tail underneath the chair.\n\nHe noticed he was nervous and that seemed to be a rather strange reaction. He'd just get the usual: \"Sorry clerical error,\" and then he'd be on his way again. However, these kinds of opportunities only come once in a lifetime and while life and time were flexibly defined, he knew a second opportunity wouldn't come by to visit Heaven and see the Angels at work.\n\nTo his surprise heaven seemed a lot cleaner than he expected. In his personal experience humans were messy creatures and they rarely cleaned up after themselves. You'd think that after a good flailing they'd have the decensy to pick up and do away with the skin. Alas they simply let it rot.\n\nIt might be because there weren't that many humans in heaven. Or perhaps they had some sort of clean way of flailing that didn't involve the eccess waste. Everything was white. The young angel that had triple checked his invitation had a pure white skin, bright blue eyes and blond hair. He smiled kindly, but Abad noticed, incenserely. \n\nHis robes had been white, his halo had been, and the room that Abad had been seated in for the past seven hours, had been white.\n\nInteresting type of torture. Solitary chamber experience. He'd be lying if he wasn't enjoying it.\n\nThen after, what couldn't be more than 12 hours, the door opened and a similarly white-skinned man entered. He seemed important cause he wore glasses at the edge of his nose and had a nametag saying: \"Peter\". \n\n\"Abaddon,\" Peter said as he sat down. \"Abad for short?\"\n\nAbad nodded.\n\n\"Very good,\" Peter took out a quill from thin air and checked something on a piece of parchment similarly appearing from nowhere.\n\n\"Why am I here?\" Abad asked, surprised by the sudden sound in his voice. In heaven everyone seemed to talk in whispers.\n\n\n\"Well you know,\" Peter said baring his teeth as if to show he was a predator. \"Every few centuries we get one of you down there up here. It's a rather unusual arrangement but you will soon learn it is rather necessary. You have your uses.\"\n\nAbad chuckled. \"What use could I be to angels?\" he spat the final word.\n\nPeter made a sound like maniacal laughter, but without the mania.\n\n\"That's what I want to hear! Very good. It says here you studied in the class of Professor Crowley. There's an even a letter of recommendation. It says here you are a nightmare to teach. Have no sense of authority and will make it far as a Devil. Very good. Seems we have something we can use here.\"\n\nAbad gave a short chuckle. \"Doesn't seem like traits you'd want in heaven.\"\n\n\"Want, no dear me no. Want is off the table, but you have your uses.\"\n\nPeter stood up and the white room faded away around them revealing a lush green garden. \n\n\"Heaven has a bit of a reputation of being boring.\" Peter holds up his hands in the air. \"Guilty as charged.\"\n\nAbad gave a low rumble that sounded like mild annoyance.\n\n\"Okay okay to the point,\" in the middle of the green garden stood a tree and two beautiful humans, disgusting creatures, sat beneath it. A man and a woman, both naked.\n\nThe tree bore fruit, but neither human seemed to pay any attention to it.\n\n\"Can you turn into animals?\"\n\n\"Bats, snakes, flies, goats.\" \n\n\"Snake will do. Why don't you slither over there and... Go with it.\"\n\nWith a faint hiss the leather suit turned snakeskin, the red skin green, and a large boa like snake lay in the green garden.\n\nAbad slithered towards the humans.\n\nWould he have to bite them? Poison them? Eat them whole?\n\nEven though the garden seemed empty he could hear gasps as he came closer to the humans. A sunlight like beam focused atop him.\n\nThen a voice, incorpereal and loud, Peter's voice.\n\n\".... and introducing Abaddon as The Snake. Welcome to this year's production of Eden.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Scientists have developed a serum to make it so you don't have to sleep anymore. It is optional but comes with a catch: if you take it, you will never be able to sleep again.	[ "Initially, getting used to a life without having to sleep, or even deal with the trouble of getting sleepy seemed like heaven to me. \"It's like drinking coffee every hour, without the part where you crash and burn mentally\" I thought, trying to convince my brain that this wasn't a stupid idea. I popped off the cap and drunk as much of the slimy green liquid as my slim build could handle - which turned out to be the whole bottle.\n\nAt first, well - I felt nothing. It WAS 8 am in the morning to be fair and I DID have my usual 8 hours of sleep (oh boy how I was going to miss that(!)). So I began my crazy experiments. I went out and bought as much Pizza, Fizzy Juice, Sleeping Tablets, Tea, Coffee - anything, that could make a man sickly tired. Realising that I could eat as much of these items as possible without wanting to take a nap made me feel like God for a day. I drunk half of the fizzy juice bottle and used it as my cauldron. Sleeping tablets I popped in first. Coffee beans soon followed, don't forget the tea bags and of course, to add some flavour, the finest pizza I could find, awkwardly squashed through the opening.\n\nOnce again, even before going to work at 11, I felt - nothing. I strolled into the office almost laughing at my colleagues, crowding the coffee machine, squeezing out the juices that they would need to complete another day in the endless grind. One of my fellow colleagues who used to take coffee with me in the morning asked me in her usual soft, slightly accented voice, \"no coffee today I see?\". \"Nah\" I replied like the cocky ass I was. While working I realised that I could throw all-night parties with all of my colleagues and never feel tired. I would be most popular at work, I would probably get a raise from my boss and most importantly, it'll be hell of a lot of fun.\n\nI worked overtime that day, 5 hours overtime. I only left when there was no one left to judge. But alas alack, the day was over. Well, not for me! I quickly rushed on to my phone on the train and called for all of my friends and colleagues to meet at my house, for the \"bestest party eva!!\".\n\nI came home and there must have been, pff, 500 or so people there. But I was in the zone, I no longer felt like some throwaway loser who was only seen as a mere 'unit', but as an actual human, an actual superhero, a GOD!\n\nThe party was epic. Truly epic. I used my superpowers to be the greatest host ever. Fuelling conversations, refilling drinks, hell I even busted out some dance moves like Miss Fernsby, in my old high school's prom. But, when it was 2 am in the morning. I heard the dreaded, \"bye!\" \"see ya later\" and worst of all, \"i'm tired, I must go. See you at work!\". \"WHAT?\" I thought, \"How DARE these infertile cretins, leave because they are feeling a bit nappy.\" I ran to the doors and barricaded them... with my body. They tried to budge past me. I was in control. And I loved it. \"Move, please\". \"No! You stay here\". I must have stood there for a good 3 minutes. The people got rowdy and everyone was clearly furious... at me. Soon. I heard the sirens.\n\nI can still hear them in my head. \"NI-NO-NI-NO!\" It never stops. The police forced themselves in and arrested me on the spot for false imprisonment. I was sent to jail for the night. \"Ok.\" I thought. \"Maybe I should calm my act a bit. I am God after all. And. Well. God, was a good person, I presume. So. I should do the same! Yeah! When I get out of jail, I am going to be a different pers-\". I was fired on the spot when I arrived to work the next day.\n\n\"Ok, I lost my job. Fine. I can deal with this\", still confident. All of my friends disappeared from my social networks. I controlled my emotions. I called Mum and explained the whole situation, she was cross. Extremely cross, and that was BEFORE I had told her about the whole, 'me being arrested thing'. When I told her. She said I was a lost cause and hung up immediately.\n\nNow the tears were rolling. I lost my job, friends and possibly family. I fell into a deep depression.\n\nThe following months were the hardest of my life. I had to live every moment, awake. I couldn't sleep to hurry the inevitable and I lived in pure isolation for months. Eventually, my past experiments also caught up on me. I was vast and - well. Obese. I now carried the shame I inherited from the past with me everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere.\n\nWeeks passed and I was in serious debt. The bank told me that if I couldn't pay my debts they'd have to take my house. I had nothing. I sold everything I had for coffee to try and overpower the potion. Nothing worked. The Bank came. Everything was gone. Like a rug had been pulled from underneath me in an instant. I was now a nothing. I sat for my first 3 hours homeless on the pavement and thought, \"this is just a bad dream\". Realising the reality made me cry instantly. I mistook the tears for rain.\n\nI now lived in the local park. I was terrified of the dark and ghastly figures would walk in the horizon, judging me. Judging me for my faults. No one loved me. I didn't love myself. How could I? Wasted my life away. For - for -...\n\nNothing.\n\nI lie on the brown soggy bench today. Giving you my story. Goodnight. Please - don't pity my life.", "\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nA Cereal Sonnet\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWho needs Tony when there's no fast to break?\n\nOr Snap, Crackle and Pop for that matter?\n\nThe serum gives Count Chocula the stake,\n\nAnd damns the makers of pancake batter.\n\n\"But now you can all do more with your life!\"\n\nThose experts on TV try to persuade,\n\nWhat good's a day if not cut by some knife,\n\nSo that your dreams for the days can be made?\n\nThis is your captain speaking, Cap'n Crunch,\n\nAnd I'm writing to tell of a great truth,\n\nThat breakfast's not just a prologue to lunch,\n\nTo keep your energy up in a booth,\n\nIt's a ritual which deserves respect,\n\nAnd sleep, a magical realm to protect.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Two people find themselves drifting aimlessly in the vast emptiness of space. You both are incapable of dying. Time has become meaningless as the millennia pass. All you have is each other and the only thing holding the both of you together is an ageing tether that is on the verge of snapping.	[ "I'd been staring at the same nebulous off in the distance for... I don't know how long. It slowly slid to my right as time ticked on by. At an almost imperceptible rate. But it was moving. Or rather I was. Or we both were. Whatever. I'm done trying to figure out physics. I was never good at that stuff anyways. I was only out here for bragging right, mostly. Being an astronaut was all I'd ever wanted. I just didn't realize how true it was when people said space was unforgiving.\n\nSo here I am. Floating in nothingness. Staring at a distant galaxy that's close enough to see with the naked eye, but still so far that I will never get the chance to reach it on my own. And I can't help but think of how beautiful it is. Despite the circumstances, that is.\n\n\"Hey... Mark?\" A crackly voice filters in through my speakers.\n\n\"Yeah, Annie?\" I respond without turning to where I know the voice is actually coming from. I can hear my voice crackling through the cable tying us together.\n\n\"Do you... have any regrets?\"\n\nI had not expected that question. I twist my upper body as much as I can in this cumbersome suit. Without something to push or pull on, I can't quite fully turn around to face her. But I manage well enough to be able to just see her floating about twenty meters away. Her eyes are focused beyond me, almost like she's looking through me. I can see streaks down her face now. She'd been crying. Either she managed to do that silently, or I wasn't paying her enough mind to notice. Or this cable holding us together is far more damaged than we thought.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHer eyes connect with mine. \"Do you have any regrets?\" She repeats the question, this time louder.\n\nMy mouth hangs open for a few seconds, thinking. \"About coming into space?\"\n\nShe shrugs. The motion barely noticeable with the bulky suit on. \"Anything, really.\"\n\nI take a deep breath through flared nostrils. \"Uh... yeah...\" I look away from her. \"I regret not being there for my mom when my brother died.\" I can feel her eyes staring at me. I can feel the pity from all the way over here. That's why I looked away. I didn't want to see it. \"I was so mad at her for letting him get so bad, that I felt like she deserved that pain.\" A ball forms in my throat. I swallow to dispel it, but it does nothing. \"I never got the chance to apologize for that. She's probably dead now, anyways. Not that it matters. It's not like we're ever getting back.\"\n\nThere's a silence as we both try not to look at each other. My jaw sets into a grimace. I blink several times into the darkness.\n\n\"What about you?\" I ask her. \"You have any regrets?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" There's a pause before she expounds. \"I wish I'd finished my doctorate.\" I had no idea she had even attempted that. She had three masters in physics, biology, and aeronautical engineering, I knew. But the doctorate is a surprise. \"I only had three credits left and it would've been mine. I was almost done with my dissertation, too.\"\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\nI hear her taking a deep, crackly breath through the cable. \"My niece got sick. Real sick.\" I remember. That's how we met. Our family members were in the same hospital ward. Then we just so happened to end up in the same space program. Chosen for the same trip. \"I put schooling on hold. Dumped a lot of money into helping her get better. And before I knew it she wasn't and I just... couldn't bring myself to go back and finish it.\" She shakes her head irritably. \"Don't fucking know why.\" She's crying again. I can't see it. But I can hear it. \"It's not like I had to pay for it. My job was paying for it. I'd have even gotten a raise if I finished it. All it would've taken was one more class and few revisions of my dissertation. I was hemming and hawing about it, coming up with reasons to not go back, when I was chosen for this trip.\" She shrugs. \"By that point, I told myself it was too late. I was already going to space. What did it matter if I had a PhD at the end of my name?\"\n\nI stare at her through the emptiness that separated us. I want to go over and hold her. Console her. Tell her everything will be okay. But it wouldn't be enough. I couldn't actually touch her and she couldn't actually touch me. And to even get close to her, I'd have to grab the cable. The only thing tying us together. And our only means of communication. It's fraying and damaged from all the times we'd reached out for each other, pushed each other way, and done everything in between. Without it, we'd not just be drifting in an endless void, but in a silently endless void. Forever. Slowly drifting away from each other until we ultimately ran into something else. Probably a black hole. Maybe then we'd finally get to die.\n\nWe fall into a mutual quietude again as her silent sobs rack her frame. I turn away from her, allowing my body to return to its original orientation watching the galaxy drift by. After a time, I couldn't tell you how long, her voice crackles back to me.\n\n\"Hey, Mark.\"\n\n\"Yeah, Annie?\"\n\n\"I don't know if I've finally cracked... but that light kind of looks like it's getting brighter... doesn't it?\"\n\nI twist my upper body again to look at Annie. Her position has shifted slightly and she's staring off to my right. I follow the aim of her mask to a strange green light coming out of the darkness. I squint at it trying to figure out what she's talking about. I'm about to tell her that she's finally lost it when a much brighter white light, spins around above it. The white light lands on us and I lift a hand to block it out. My other hand slithers out of the arm in my suit to lower my visor.\n\n\"The fuck is that?\" I ask, still squinting against the bright light.\n\n\"Not a clue.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a Financial Adviser in a fantasy world with elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, etc. Your clients often make highly questionable expenses... It's your job to steer them in the right direction and clean up their spending habits.	[ "We all know the old phrase.\n\nMoney doesn’t buy happiness.\n\nIt makes sense doesn’t it? In the end, all of our worldly possessions mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. What really matters are the experiences we share with one another. A young man’s first kiss. The birth of your first child. The pain of loss and the grief that follows. It all comes together to shape who we are and what we become as time passes by. Our entire lives, culminating into one giant, beautiful experience.\n\nLike I said, makes sense, right?\n\nYea…try explaining that to my clients.\n\n“Eight thousand?! You spent eight THOUSAND gold pieces on a spoon?”, I asked, slightly hyperventilating as the reality of my client’s situation gradually set in.\n\n“You don’t understand!”, cried Maelin, a young, garishly dressed elf with eyes the color of turquoise. “This was no ordinary spoon, you see. This spoon was the exact same spoon Aelrindel herself used to defend Illendar during the great war! Fascinating story actually. With her sword and shield all but ruined and the orc legion upon her, she picked up this exact spoon she found laying on the ground next to her and single handedly held the legion back until the 23rd battalion could reinforce the city!”\n\n“And how, pray tell, do you know this to be true?”, I asked, highly skeptical of this farfetched tale.\n\n“I have absolute faith in my dealer!”, she exclaimed. “He heard it from his cousin, who heard it from her cousin’s 2nd cousin, who heard it from a traveling minstrel…or was it a traveling dentist?”\n\n“Let me just stop you right there. Regardless of the validity of these claims, you simply cannot afford these types of expenditures”, I reasoned. “Your accounts are constantly in the red, your father is now refusing to bail out his own daughter, and your credit…oh God, your credit is so abysmal I don’t think even the seediest goblin loan shark would lend you a single copper piece! How you have survived thus far without ending up on the streets is beyond me!”\n\nA heavy silence befalls my small office.\n\nIt’s been a long time since I’ve had an outburst like that. I’m usually well-tempered but enough is enough. Maelin has always been one of my more difficult clients. Being born from a wealthy family, she’s used to the finer things in life. After her mother died and her father took another wife, Maelin went absolutely off the deep end and nearly sent the family into bankruptcy. Her father, bless his heart, tried his best to keep her afloat but even the kindest man has his limits. After her last frenzy, he cut her off completely.\n\nNow, over a year later and well over twenty-six thousand gold pieces down the drain, she finds herself back in my office, praying she doesn’t have to sell her body to the brothels just to eat.\n\nI’m pulled from my musings by an almost imperceptible sniffle.\n\nOh dear, look at what I’ve done now.\n\nMaelin’s body is racked by heavy sobs. She throws her body from the chair that sits at the front of my desk and weeps. The sight is absolutely heart-wrenching.\n\nI quickly stand up from my desk and hop to her side in an attempt to console the crying elf, though I am not exactly an expert on such matters. Call me old fashioned, but the lamentations of the fairer sex have always made me uncomfortable. The fact that I was the main contributor to her current predicament did not help my growing guilt.\n\n“Please Maelin”, I implored. “Calm yourself. There is no need for such theatrics. Not all is lost”.\n\n“But you’re right”, she sobbed. “I’m absolutely incapable of controlling myself! I don’t know what to do. Father refuses to talk to me while my wretched step mother laughs at my misfortune. I’m constantly harassed by debt collectors who wait by my door every morning. One even threatened physical harm should I continue to evade my debts! I thought I could handle my impulsiveness but I always find myself rationalizing every bad decision I make. I haven’t slept peacefully in months and every day the weight of my poor decisions threatens to crush my very chest. I don’t know what else to do!”\n\nThis is getting out of hand\n\nMaelin sobs on the floor of my office, the carpet now stained with salty tears and snot. I try no to think of the cleanup I will need to do to remove the stains, but I manage to suppress the thought.\n\nShe sobs uncontrollably for what seems like hours. Her sobs gradually die down to a pitiful whimpering.\n\n“Please”, she whispers so quietly, I almost miss it. “Help me Aranel. I don’t want to end up in the brothels. I’ll do anything. Whatever it takes to get me back on track. Just help me. Please.”\n\nGoodness, how can I say no to that?\n\n“Please Maelin, stand up. There’s no need for anymore tears”, I say in an attempt to console her.\n\nI guide her back to the chair and sit her down, pulling a small handkerchief from my breast pocket and handing it to her. She gently wipes the tears and snot from her face and tries to hand the cloth back to me.\n\n“Keep it”, I say. “I have many others”.\n\nShe nods and thanks me silently.\n\n“Maelin”, I start. “There is a light at the end of this tunnel. Your father, bless his heart, left you a final parting gift before he cut you off. He came to me one day, upset and inconsolable, much like you right now. He begged me to take you as my client in hopes that I could help you get your spending under control”.\n\nMaelin lifts her head, a small glimmer of hope evident in her tear-soaked eyes.\n\n“I knew this would be a challenge. Your…compulsions are well known in the financial world. Quite legendary actually”, I say with a bit of mirth in an attempt to lighten the mood. “But your father was so desperate to help you that I couldn’t possibly say no to a man with so much love for his daughter that he would come begging to a lowly advisor such as myself. I took you on without hesitation”.\n\nI see Maelin’s eyes widen. A small smile begins to form as fresh tears begin to fall from her eyes.\n\n“Before he left, he created a small but modest trust fund for you and you alone. He instructed me to release it to you when the day came that you were at your lowest, but only if I deemed that you were willing to do whatever it took to get your life under control.\n\nMaelin sits up straight.\n\n“Well”, I say with a small smile, “I think we’ve reached that point, yes?”\n\n“Yes”, she says nodding.\n\nThank the heavens. I don’t think I would have been able to keep my word.\n\nI let out a small sigh of relief.\n\n“Very well”, I say. “There’s not enough to completely wipe out your debts. But it’s enough to get the creditors off your back and get you on track. With perseverance and self-control, we’ll have you debt free and with enough coin to get you financially stable. Are you truly willing to do what it takes to get your life together?”\n\n“Yes!”, she says with no hesitation in her voice. “I’m ready. I’m truly ready”.\n\n“Excellent!”, I say with enthusiasm. “Now, first things first. That damn spoon has got to go”.", "I’m sitting in my office, with the latest technology outfitted from Florentine. It’s a an Elf Lacrima hooked up to a Dwarf amplifier lens. The Orc in the other side of the lacrima is currently yelling and screaming, slamming his goblin partner’s head into the wall repeatedly. \n\n“How do I know that Dwarves don’t like rotten meat with worms? It’s a DELICACY in my home nest!”\n\n“Yeah, cause they’re Dwarves. You went in to a Dwarves city, bought a plot of land on an ancestral Dwarf grave level, and opened up a Rotten Meat Delicatessen there. Moreover, you stole three Dwarves cadavers and had their families sue you for a crap ton of money in the High King’s Court. Did you even bother doing market research beforehand? Consider your return on investment? Dwarf halls are not cheap to come by. You know that.”\n\n“Your partner had to put down six years worth of looting. SIX.”\n\n“So what do I do?” \n\n“Okay. First things first. Sell the land off before your maggots deprecate the land value, immediately. Make sure you take down all your stuff, so the Dwarves don’t haggle; they’re really good at that, so make your place spotless. Wash with water and soap, not blood, and get some mushroom stew for your client while you’re at it. JUST MUSHROOM STEW. No blood mixed in.”\n\n“That should get you your initial five years back.” \n\n“Now. Take my advice. There’s a nice goblin scavenging and hunting camp not far from where you are. Transport will be pretty cheap, and the goblins have a non aggression pact with your current city. Go there, and take your rotten meat recipe and make some money there. I’ve hooked you up with a contact, he’s a hobgoblin named Meeko. Anyway, the consulting fee is another three months of your loot, so, make sure to deliver that via cart or dragon.”\n\n“OH. And PLEASE DO NOT HIRE THE RED-CLAN DRAKES, THEY STEAL THE MONEY YOU ASK THEM TO DELIVER.”\n\n“Oh... Oh... oops...”\n\nI facepalm, hang up, and call up my paladin delivery insurance contact. I have a job for him, and it involves dragons. \n\n\n\nYou know, you’d figure at least the Dwarves would have some sense when it comes to gold. \n\nBUT NO. Because gold came so easily to ", "\"You bought _what_?\" I exclaimed, rather more harshly than I intended. My client, a rather mild-mannered halfling, shrank back in his seat. And this meeting had been going so well. He'd actually made sensible financial choices since his latest windfall.\n\n\"Well, I wasn't going to, but then I remembered that my cousin Ophelia has been after a dining table just like that one for _ages_, and after what she said about my hobbies, and her insinuations about my relationship with Drarin, I just _knew_ I had to get that elf-carved fifty seat party table with matching dwarf-forged cutlery and crockery. Those crafters only collaborate about once a decade, assuming their kingdoms aren't at war again of course. She's going to be green with envy at next week's party.\"\n\nAh yes. The mild-mannered halfling who had a fondness for adventuring with Drarin, the king of the Dwarven Realm, who was 'absolutely and completely _just a friend_'. Apparently he had a knack for killing bandits in their sleep, or slipping poison into their food or beer, and other underhanded methods of eliminating those that stood between his 'friend' and lost or stolen dwarven treasures.\n\n\"Well, I can account for this in your budget, Mr Raffins. Just please refrain from any more extravagant purchases in the name of one upmanship, at least until you've found a few more treasures.\"\n\n\"Well there's no chance of _that_ any time soon,\" he huffed. \"Randil declared war on Drarin again. Something about dwarven hunters following a deer into Randil's lands.\"\n\nHe stood up and smiled. \"Thank you for your time, and your advice is much appreciated. I'll see you next month.\"\n\nI look at my list of remaining appointments for the day. The uncrowned exile king of the southern human kingdom, who could take the throne _at any time_, but preferred the life of an itinerant wanderer was up next, probably wanting advice on how to cope with the recent increase in campground fees in the Blasted Lands. Then I had the leader of the largest orc warband in said Lands, who was responsible for the increase in fees; he owned all of the campgrounds, having recently... acquired the last few holdouts whose former owners had been unwilling to sell. Hmmmmm.\n\n\"Janice,\" I shouted into reception. \"Please keep his unwashed highness and Arog apart, I don't want a repeat of last time.\"\n\n\"Already on it,\" she shouted back.\n\nAfter that it was a housecall. Draug the Slightly-Dangerous had received tribute from the village below, and was looking to expand his portfolio. Maybe this time I could convince him to invest in something a bit more sensible than a sheep farm in a desert. _That_ had been a miserable failure." ]	3
	[WP] You’re the greatest blacksmith that ever lived. You created the world’s finest weapons, armor and jewelry. But as you grow old, and approach the end of your life, you decide to face your greatest challenge yet. Forging a new body.	[ "My face. Gods, my face. I got old. So old it's a little....startling.\n\nI've woken up to myself in the mirror everyday since I was old enough to remember. I've seen my face every day. But today I feel different. I'm tired more often than not. My focus is slipping. My joints are burning, my back feels like it made of glass that crack when you sings a basic tune. I can't even walk the same way I used to because it hurts my ankles.\n\nThe black edges beneath my eyes speak of the thousands of tireless nights spending in the forge. My calloused hands, covered in burnmarks and old scars, forged the hammers, swords, flails, shields, helms and cuirasses that heroes and villains of old ages cherished. These hands merged thin lines of steel and copper with gems to create tiny metal miracles. My arms still stiff with muscle, my right arms more than the other due to the hammering I did all that time. A feint glow of magic went through my left arm, the arm I used to infuse mana into weapons, armor and jewelry. \n\nI had so much left to do. I wouldn't get to finish it all. My work. Unfinished. I didn't want to die. I remember how father died. Ailing and wailing in his bed. Dreaming while wide awake, seeing things that weren't there. I wouldn't go out like that. No. I have too much to make. I was never a fighter, or a philosopher (when sober). My only skill is in enchanting, the channeling of mana into physical tools with specific purposes. None got close to equaling what I can do.\n\nAnd my skill would die with me, even when there's so much need of me. There's another war coming. I don't know where, I don't know how....but ever since those things showed up in the city, my senses have been restless. \n\nI don't even care about the money. Maybe for my daughter and her kids, but they're doing fine on their own now. No. I just want to create. Create a masterpiece. My greatest triumph. I recall times where the source of my enchantments almost ripped my soul out of my body and dragged it with the energy into the weapon. Few tried such things, none passed a tale of how to do this successfully as they pored themselves into machinery that could not speak.\n\nMachinery. Perhaps, a machine that could walk. And talk. And do things with their hands. I need to make something like that, while I still have time. I need to become a pioneer at the age of ninety-one.\n\n------\n\nOrdering the ores wasn't hard. I have contacts all over the globe. The finest coal, the hardest metal, the most knowledgeable books to explain how machines like these could work. I draw up the plans, with the assistance of devices on my arms that let me keep my hands still. Line across line, several tables worth of drawings. Designing the armor was easy, but the contraptions were the hard parts.\n\nBut I was so tired. I didn't understand. I had been running a fever for over a month now. I had lost my potbelly and my legs were like sticks. I relaxed on the table, wondering where all my energy went in the last couple of months.\n\nSomeone opens the door behind me. With what little strength I have left, I haul myself up and turn to see who intrudes. A man. Short, messy black curls. Dressed as a monk, but didn't carry himself like one. I see the look in his eyes. A look of hunger. Of arrival. He sought me out. An assassin. A sting of regret pierces my heart. Will my Joanna find me like this, gutted in my workshop with everything stolen from me? My plans? My future? My hopes?\n\n\"Who are you?\" I ask.\n\n\"A benefactor. Sorry for the rather rude interruption.\"\n\n\"A name, kid.\" Gods, I sounded so frail. Did time pass that fast?\n\n\"Call me anything you like. Kid will do.\"\n\n\"Get outta my shed, kid.\"\n\n\"You don't want that, Mr. Salis.\"\n\n\"You don't know what I want.\"\n\n\"Oh, but I do. I've been watching for a while. From a distance. You aren't doing as well as you used to.\"\n\n\"Don't mock me boy. One flick of a finger with the right ring on it and I'll turn you to dust before you can blink.\"\n\n\"I have no doubt about your equipment, sir. I doubt that you would be able to retrieve that ring in due time, though.\"\n\nHe had me dead to rights. But I did have a couple of people I could summon. He stepped forward. I gripped the table. He was going to attack. I shoved my self off and reached out to him, until I realized I couldn't bodyslam him anymore. Didn't have the weight or the muscle. He grabbed me instead. He held me in a hug. I tried to worm my way out. I could smell magic at work. Was he killing me. I keep struggling, but he just grips me and hugs me tight. Before long, his face greys and wrinkles. His hair falls out. His grip weakens. I wrestle my way out of his grip, reach over the table to grab a hammer and smack him up the jaw with it.\n\nAn audible blow send him staggering back and sends him to the floor. His eyes are lifeless as I walk over him. I....I just walked over to him. My joints. My hands. My strength. My minds feels....clear. Like clouds parting to reveal a clear sunny sky. I inhale and look at my hands. Still calloused. Still scarred. But strong, and thick. I don't feel tired anymore. I feel at least thirty years younger....\n\nWhat the fuck happened?\n\nA slow clap startled me. In a dark corner in the back of a shed, I see red eyes shining through.\n\n\"Glad to see you back in shape, Silas.\"\n\nThis was no ordinary man. The depth in his voice was beyond even my age, and yet it was young. It was wise but rash. Erratic yet smooth. As he steps out the darkness, I see his broken body. I Cheshire smile on a man whose body was filled with stab wounds, wounds that would bleed until the end of time.\n\n\"You. You're real.\"\n\n\"In the flesh. Hmm. How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"You did this. You did this.\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes. He wasn't going anywhere in life anyway. Banditry. Like there aren't enough of those.\"\n\n\"Why are you here?\"\n\n\"Just....making sure you can continue your work. Do yourself a favor and see a doctor for your condition next time. If I hadn't interfered, you'd have died at that table in less than an hour. You're welcome, by the way.\"\n\nThe body of the man that held me was now fading into dust. Who was he? What went wrong so badly in his life that he'd end up here?\n\n\"Your work fascinates me, Silas.\" He said as he....faded into being right next to me, \"I prefer the bodies and coils of men and mortals to tamper with, but your work has undoubtedly been entertaining. I'm a fan. A fan who is unwilling to let go of you juuuuust yet.\"\n\n\"You won't have my work.\"\n\n\"I don't need your work. In my way of living, which is a very long time, it is very rare that a man like you finds himself in such a position. The position of having my very personal attention. I want you to try and complete this contraption of yours. I have worked with people often enough that I know how to work just right with them.\"\n\n\"I've seen your work.\"\n\n\"And I'd like to see more of yours.\"\n\n\"What if I don't want to show you?\"\n\n\"Agh, Silas, how rude! I save your life and you're not willing to show me what you can do?\"\n\n\"You-\"\n\n\"Oh save it, you're living on borrowed time, quite literally.\"\n\n\"I didn't ask to be saved.\"\n\n\"But you're grateful I did, in a way. Despite the unfortunate sacrifice. Silas, I don't need to know exactly how every detail plays into what contraption. I just want to see where this path goes.\"\n\n\"Are you commissioning me?\"\n\n\"Yes. And I have given you the most valuable currency any man, women or child could have.\"\n\n\"You haven't given me anything.\"\n\n\"Time, dear Silas. I've given you time to complete your work. Which I won't hold you up in. So much to do, the both of us. You have molds to make, I have my drafts, you have your furnace and I have my spell engines. Go do your thing Silas. Go on, go.\"\n\nI didn't turn from him as he slowly backed himself back into the corner he came from.\n\n\"I'll be watching. Hmm, yes I will.\"\n\nHe backs away into the corner until all the remains of him are those bright red eyes. He closes them and then he's...gone.\n\nHe laced me with his magic. His fleshmelting magic. I clenched my left fist. The glow in my arms turns a little brighter, the feeling of evaporating air on my fingers. I'll need to be careful now. Very careful. If he can give me back my years he can take them as easily.\n\nI turn back to my drawings. I see faults in them everywhere, errors I overlooked didn't draw properly. So much to do. But I can't let that parasite watch me all the time. I need to call for help. \n\nBut how does one call for help against a literal blood debt to a fallen God?" ]	1
	[WP] the alien equivalent to David attenborough narrates a documentary about human culture	[ "Above all else, the humans were a hopeful species. And this was of course the very thing which, in the end, brought about their demise.\n\nYou see, it is the pinnacle of human culture to hope for the best, while in actuality doing very little to encourage it. Time and again throughout their war and famine filled history, we see examples of these creatures all collectively agreeing that a certain course of action was the best and most logical, and then immediately proceeding to do absolutely nothing they'd discussed.\n\nThis is evident in all aspects of their lives, from the quarterly office meeting where all the employees would air their grievances and all would agree that improvement was needed, to their overarching realization that their own way of life was killing their planet. In both cases, the humans agreed on a sound and logical course of action to remediate their problems, whilst internally assuming everyone else would do the work to actually make those changes. Since the amount of humans who could be depended on to do the work only very rarely reached the critical mass necessary to affect real change, most of human existence was filled with pointless endeavor after pointless endeavor.\n\nTake, for instance, their first real foray out into the depths of the universe. After thousands of years of infighting and feudal warfare for reasons as petty as their differing opinions about god or the weather, their civilization actually showed a spark of hope. They reached out into the void of space and plopped a man down on their moon. He planted a flag and said some nice words, and that was the end of it. The humans turned back to their stories - oh yes, they were brilliant storytellers - and they imagined what it would be like to do all those things they could be out there doing.\n\nTheir leaders gave speeches about hope and the glorious future it would build for them, all the while their civilization burned to the ground around them. They patted each other on the back for their successes, while sweeping the failures over with the rest of the fire. But they never lost their hope that the mysteries of the universe awaited them.\n\nThe humans are a cautionary tale. Hope is the driving force behind all endeavors out among the stars - whether it was hope for friendship, hope for a better world, or hope for more resources, it is what drove us all outward. While we study those who failed to make it to that next stage, we must remember that too much hope coupled with too little action can leave you, as the humans would say, like a deer in the headlights. Don't wait until it's too late." ]	1
	[WP] When you die your soul continues to walk the earth until you are completely forgotten. Despite being a regular average Joe, you're still wandering the earth 10,000 years later, and you're getting pissed about it.	[ "So.\n\nAverage Joe was my nickname in college, okay? I got shot in college while everyone thought of me as \"average Joe.\"\n\nI can't help it if in 10.000 years nobody can come up with a better way to talk about an indeterminate person.\n\nLike, you made Joe Blogs and John Smith, but apparently Joe Blogs needs a nickname for his more casual encounters.", "First I’m just your average guy wanted to Make the perfect society. thought America would love it they still refuse to use it but that’s not a problem when the people I influenced killed the tsar and Rasputin that’s when I realized my Marxist idea had gone a little far. hay I never wanted death to millions or people to starve my idea would work if you bunch just got along now it’s 11800 and I’m still seeing people fight due to my ideas why can’t you all just get along! now I’m just going to sit back and watch the people of earth launch meteors at mars and see how this ends \n\nFirst time writing ", "It's John, not Joe.\n\nBut I guess that's obvious; indeed, that's exactly the point. Even though, of course, it's not.\n\nI'm getting ahead of myself.\n\nLet's go back to the start. 1780, during the reign of George III. (Yes, the mad one). Unlike my father, and brothers, I belied the family name and didn't work the fields; instead went into the Navy, and became a sailor. That means floating ships with sails to catch the wind - not this 'solar sail' spaceship. That's not proper sailing! Those horrid steam ship contraptions were around, but I never was on one. \n\nAnyway, did pretty well, had a good round of children; including Charles who followed me onto the sea. As most do, was able to watch them, because of course they remember me. \n\nIt was one of Charles' younger son, Thomas; that's where it all went wrong. Not the boy himself - sharp lad, always knew he'd do well for himself. Never thought he'd get quite as far as he did; but then no one ever expects their name to become a household one, do they.\n\nWhich is not supposed to count; except that for some reason everyone think's he's me. Or I'm him - honestly, how all this works is hard enough to understand at the best of times.\n\nIt wasn't him, you know. Thomas, I mean. I don't understand how it happened, back in my day we all knew it was Sir John Harrington who invented it. Well, not quite; Thomas did make some improvements, but he mostly just made and sold them.\n\nIt's from the Old English, you know. The name, I mean.\n\nNo, not John - that's obviously Biblical. The surname. 'cropp', meaning to cut. Good Northen working mans name it is.\n\nBut it appears that the apocryphal story of John Crapper just will not die, and let me go.", "I'm not the most infamous person in history, the Burner of Continents, the worst villain in the world.\n\nNo, I'm the one guy who happened to be coming around the corner when he pushed the button for his Combustopocalypse, so everyone in the world got to see my shocked, horrified face as the death rays came down and billions died.\n\nOh, no. I'm not him. I'm the guy who'd just gotten off his lunch break and was heading back down that alley to take the shortcut to the office. That all important insurance office, which happened to be reduced to a bubbling sea of melted concrete and steel.\n\nMine is the face of shock and horror shown in history classes for thousands of years behind the guy who depopulated the world. Hell, I didn't get much past that before that mistargeted beam vaporized the villain, me, and the entire city.\n\nTwo fucking seconds. Two fucking seconds later and nobody would have seen me, and my atoms would have just been one more anonymous piece of the firestorm. \n\nBecause I was two seconds earlier, every child is taught the lesson. Every child sees the face of the destroyer. And they see me.\n\nLooking down from the orbital habitats, they don't forget me. The anonymous guy. The guy that thought he was about to get mugged and ended up being the peasant to Trogdor's burnination, the moth in front of the sixty billion volt lamp, the poster child for all the people who died before even knowing it was happening.\n\nI've walked the charred remnants of Earth ever since, a lost soul amidst the forgotten ghosts who were so thoroughly erased, not even a picture or a word remains, much less the usual Archival records. Nearly every one has vanished at this point, even the legends. There wasn't much room for history or memory in the habitats, it seems. Nor for many people. There were maybe a few hundred thousand off the ground when the rest of us burned, and they've been slowly surviving and growing ever since.\n\nI look up at them, the chains in heaven that bind me to Hell.\n\nI will be looking for a very long time, and all I can dream of is the habitats falling like Lucifer to burn away my memory and let me go.\n\nSpeaking of Lucifer? I can see that gibbering mad bastard over there. Or hear him, anyway. He never stops screaming. Death didn't do him too good, since he's the famous supervillian who pushed that button.\n\nThis should be his Hell, not mine. I resent it, being a man without a name or history or family or anything worth mentioning, yet impossible to forget. They make up stories about me. Thousands, none of which are even close to true, making me a hero, another villain, their long-lost Uncle Joe. And they remember.\n\nDamn them, damn Lucifer, and damn me for another ten thousand years. I hate them all.\n", "This sucks. Like, really really sucks. See in the movies they all have their shit together. Pawning their antiques or drawing interest on their savings accounts. But what if you make a bad call? My possessions went up in the Chicago fire. My money, I put it in the stock market. Worked pretty well till the big crash and that whole dust bowl crap. Don't get me wrong, I can't starve to death, but starving still ain't fun! That's another thing. New words. Every dozen years new words. You know how hard it is to go from speaking phonecian to Mandarin to Egyptian to Latin to English to English to English to English? Every dam time they update the vocabulary my stuff becomes \"old\" English. It's not old! It's perfectly good English!\n\nBut ya know the worst part? The short jokes! they started around 1790 and it's been 228 years of hell! I was tall once! I towered over my 1st through 8th wives. 5'5 was a perfectly respectable height for a man in my day! Now I can't even reach the kitchen cabinets! I had to buy a step stool! I am ten thousand years old and I can barely see over the wheel of my car! Who decided this? \"Well, we'll let this one live forever...but make the rest of them Giants!\" It's some bullshit I'll tell you that much. \n\nOh sorry, what were you asking about? Julius Ceaser? No I never met him the man was Emporer of all Rome. I was selling Turnips in the court of the Han at the time. They were good turnips too. " ]	5
	[WP] You lived a life that dabbled in sin, so when you die you are disappointed, but not entirely surprised, to see the Gates of Hell before you. What is a surprise, however, is the hundreds of people sitting outside, too afraid to enter.	[ "Slowly decaying bodies, reminiscent of zombie movies, block the towering gates of eternal damnation. I push through baffled, standing there won’t change their fate. I open the gates just enough to slip into hell. The lava and steam burns me and the floor is made of spikes that impale my loose skin. The screams of regretful souls echo through the tunnels and shake the stalactites, layers of dust fall into my eyes and sting them horribly. My path is paved with my misdeeds. I regret nothing although I know I could have lived a better life. If I never gambled my fortune away I wouldn’t have formed my enterprise in the car industry. The only way to make my life worth it was to rise in power and become known throughout the planet. If hell is the price to a life of luxury then hell is what I’ll pay.\n\n\n\nIt’s short deal with it.", "\"Hey, what's up? Is this a line to hell?\" I laughed at my own words as they came up. It was too ridiculous. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"No man. Nobody's making us go in! We can just chill here! Isn't that great!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sure?\" I looked around at the \"scenery\". It was just a grey fog everywhere, and not the kind of fog that were used to on earth. No texture, no change in color tone of value, no depth. Just grey. \"How long have you been here?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"8 days 2 hours 52 minutes and 3 seconds.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Wow, okay.\" I gave him a nod and moved slowly toward the gate. I asked a few more people about the gate and how long they'd been there. The answers varied from weeks to years to decades. They closer I got to the gate the more haggard people looked. Eventually I got to a man who looked empty and crazed at the same time. I tapped him on the shoulder and asked my question. No answer. I shook him this time. I shouted. Nothing. A woman beside him said in a barely audible whisper.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n \"He wont answer.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI looked up at her. The woman had a similar look as the man. Her eyes were glued on the gate. Even as she spoke she didn't turn to me or seem to truly acknowledge that I was there. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"We came here together. It's been 4,326 years 5 months 7 days 8 hours 2 minutes and 18 seconds since we arrived. I don't know how I know that but I do.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Does anyone go in?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sometimes, but they never come out!\" She became frantic now. \"The tortures they must face in there. Yes, it's much better out here. Here is safe. Here is safe. Here. Not there. Here. Stay here. Here is safe.\" She continued to babel. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI moved away. So I guess I have two choices. This hell or the unknown hell behind the big... scary... foreboding... gate to eternal hell. I looked back at the couple. The woman cackling and ranting and the silent, staring man next to her. No, that I can't become. I would rather reach that after breaking under torture then get there by going insane. I turned away from the masses to face the gate alone. Well here goes... my eternal soul... to hell... People always say death is just the next step in the journey of life.... ha the hell it is. " ]	2
	[WP] You finally defeat and kill your arch enemy. You feel no remorse because they were evil! Now that they are gone though you are bored and slowly you become the evil one. You finally realized their purpose was to stop exactly this...	[ "The battle was over. We had won. No, I won. I struck the final blow to old Xavius' chest, ending his reign of terror upon the world. Now it was up to me. I, Serena von Gunford, must take his place. I take the crown from his head and placed it upon my own, kicking Xavius' broken body aside and took a seat upon the golden throne now stained with blood. \n\nThe days passed, I learned quickly. I ditched my heroic life for one of greatness, and...now I was incredibly bored. What was wrong with this peaceful life? Maybe...I'm not powerful enough? Perhaps I'll become more powerful, face more challenges! That will alleviate my boredom, for sure! I start taking more risks on the battlefield. I order the laws of war to be severed in order to achieve victory. I pick fights with lesser countries, just to expand my empire. The money was running low, so of course I make the taxes higher. Higher taxes, more rations for the soldiers, spend every cent on the military. When the people would revolt, I would order them to be mowed down. Nothing could stand in my righteous path!\n\nIt...was only after a war, when I realized just what I had become. The peasants were either working in sweatshops to aid the army, or dead in ditches. Nobody was there to fund my plans. The last war had been costly to our numbers, with many of my soldiers dead or handicapped and unable to fight. The empire was in ruins. It was, in my panic, when I finally looked...at the hands that had taken so many lives. Indirectly and indirectly. Who's...blood was this? \n\nI heard a voice that I could never forget. One that I had heard so many times ringing in my mind throughout the years ever since. \"All I wished...was to stop what you would have become. I...have failed.\" Was..that Xavius? No, impossible! Xavius the traitor was in a shallow grave beside the palace, how could he- I looked back at my hands, my thoughts stopping in their tracks. I...I just realized what I had truly become. \"I'm...I'm the new Xavius.\" I croaked out. I wanted to puke, stumbling across my throne room to my bedroom. You know what you have to do now, High Overlord Serene von Gunford. I took my old claymore from the rack above my bed, the one that had slain evil once before. It was time...to save the world once again. \n\nA stabbing pain, a relief, and the world went black." ]	1
	[WP] The dragon living next door has a crush on you, and they’re trying a lot of things to impress you.	[ "They said living out on the mountainside wasn't a good idea. They said I should be wary of strange creatures and forest dwellers. They said it could be dangerous. \n\nNow, what they didn't say was that I'd have to fight off the advances of an 800 year old dragon. \n\n\n\"Good morning Ylora!\" Sydara said in a low intimate voice. \n\nI was pruning some of the roses and other flowers I cultivated at the front of my house. The garden there was thriving, just pretty plants to make my small home seem nicer. The back was where I made my medicine plants, grinding out medicines for my wares. Every day I'd go out into the mountain and scour the hills and valleys and rock sides for the herbs and medicines I used. I'd always been an introvert and when I bought my house, I hadn't quite realized a dragon lived next door. Maybe that's why things had been so cheap. \n\nI sighed, standing up, \"Good morning, Syd.\"\n\nShe smiled at me, fangs dropping for just a moment before she licked her lips, forked tongue slipping out. Her skin was pale brown, and she had an impossible number of freckles over the bridge of her nose. \n\n\"Did you want to come over for tea?\" She walked closer to me, invading my personal space and sniffing softly, \"I made scones.\"\n\nI leaned away, tipping my sun hat down. \"Maybe next time, Syd.\"\n\nShe made a strange chittering sound in her throat, what I'd realized was the dragon sound of disappointment. Syd lowered her lashes, parting her lips slightly, \"I thought humans liked scones.\" \n\nI snorted. \n\nShe took a step back, touching one of her horns in a nervous gesture. \"I'll see you later, Ylora.\"\n\n\"See ya later, Syd.\" I threw over my shoulder heading back inside. \n\nI heard a sound of frustration, and the screech she emitted whenever she shifted into her dragon form. I left my house, looking up and admiring the smooth iridescent dark scales, almost purple with how black they were. Syd was a black thing of beauty against the pale sky and for a moment, the way her wings extended across the backdrop of the sky, I thought she was beautiful. \n\n\nI came down from the mountain that evening finding something in front of my door. There were a series of items there. The first 'gift' I'd ever gotten from Syd was a dead wolf, with its throat torn out. I'd had to explain to her you didn't give mutilated animals as gifts to humans. \n\nBut here today was a golden inlaid, shiny necklace, a bundle of some of my favourite herbs, and a few bolts of cloth. I was touched for a moment. \n\nI put all my things inside, and walked over to the entryway of Syd's cave. There was something like a cabin in front and the back of it was the actual entrance to the cave. \n\nI knocked on the door. Within moments Syd opened, smiling pleasantly when she saw me. \n\n\"I can heat the scones!\" She said, ushering me in and going over to her tiny oven, \"Doing things the human way is so tiring, so slow.\" Syd turned quickly, \"but it's okay. I can learn to do things the human way.\" she looked me up and down slowly. \n\nI laughed, \"You don't have to heat the scones, I just wanted to say thank you for the gifts. Although I've already told you I don't need them.\" \n\nShe walked over to me, grabbing my hand, \"But I want to give you gifts. I'm getting better at it. No more hides and husks. The shiny things make me think of you.\" Syd leaned closer and I thought she was about to kiss me and I leaned back, but she only inhaled deeply. \n\nI turned away, \"Syd- Listen-\"\n\nShe spoke over me, eyes bright, \"What do they call it in the human tongue? Child-bearing hips? You have nice ones. A very-\" she squeezed an imaginary ass in her hands, \"-plump bottom. It looks very squeezable.\"\n\n\"Thank you?\" I said, unaccustomed to hearing anyone talk about my body. \n\n\"And your bosom is small but I like it. And your skin looks so soft. Can I-\" she reached a hand out, carding a finger down my cheek. \n\nI flushed, unsure how to extricate myself. I was taller and bigger than Syd but somehow she managed to take over conversations so quickly. \n\n\"Syd- I don't-\"\n\n\"Why won't you let me make you mine?\" she whispered, \"I collect shiny things every day but you're the only thing that can complete my hoard. You have such a beautiful female form. You'd fit so well here.\" \n\nI pulled her hand down from my face, letting her hold it for a beat before I let go. \"Syd. This isn't anything serious, you're just infatuated. Living beside a human for the first time- being in such close proximity. And you've lived for a long time Syd, you'll find a nice dragon guy- or lady, whatever.\"\n\n\"It's not infatuation.\" She said softly, looking up at me with her brown eyes, \"I'm sending you all the signals,\" Syd said in a frustrated voice, raising her arms up for exaggeration. \"The gifts-\"\n\n\"I wouldn't call the dead wolf a gift.\" \n\n\"My pheromones-\"\n\n\"I can't smell pheromones, Syd.\" \n\n\"Scent-marking-\"\n\n\"Scent-marking?\"\n\n\"Well, I can't have any other dragons snatching you up now can I?\" she winked at me.\n\nI shook my head in defeat, not understanding her.\n\n\"I like your smile, and the way you heal people.\" her eyes twinkled, \"Even though humans are fragile and weak, you still try and- \"she lowered her voice, almost purring, \"-I like that. That stubborn quality.\"\n\n\"Syd this isn't going to work.\" I said, feeling angry. \"I'm human, okay?\" I laughed harshly, shaking my head, \"I'm not exactly going to be around forever. A hundred years from now? You'll still be here and I won't.\"\n\nHer face fell for a moment. She cupped her hands around my face, \"Is that the only reason?\" \n\nI looked down at her, not sure what she was asking. \n\nShe embraced me, leaning her head against the top of my chest, hugging me. Syd spoke quietly, \"If the only thing you're worried about is time, I can fix that. If you're worried about a hundred years then we can spend them together. I don't care if you're fragile, or prone to sickness. I'll take care of you, if you'll let me?\"\n", "I open the front door and groan. \"Damn it, Kryz,\" I mutter as I shake my head. Sitting crossways in the front yard is brand new McLaren. This time at least it's blue. \n\n\"Kryz, get over here!\" I yell as I walk over to my regular car. \"Get this thing out of here before I get back from work.\"\n\nStanding on the porch next door, a young, pretty girl pouts. \"I thought for sure you'd like this one! It's your favorite color!\" She slowly walks down the porch and across the lawn towards the McLaren. \"You sure you don't want to keep it? It's yours, free and clear. I'll even cover the insurance for you.\"\n\n\"I don't have time for this, just get rid of it!\" I bite off as get in the car. \"I can't deal with another of your over the top attempts to buy my affection right now, I'm going to be late as it is. Just get rid of it before I get home tonight, okay?\" I exclaim as I slam the door and start the engine. As I pull down the drive, I see her getting behind the wheel of the supercar. I shake my head and drive down the street to work. \n\nThat evening, as I pull into the turn lane to enter my neighborhood, I suppress a moment of dread. What's she going to do tonight? I wonder. Three turns later, I'm in the driveway. At least there's no more supercars in the yard, I think to myself as I get out and walk to the front door.\n\nI stop though, as the lights inside are on. They're automated, and only come on if someone is moving around, so I'm instantly wary. I test the handle, and the door swings open, unlocked. I take a step inside cautiously, ready for anything. I pause for a moment, and I hear sounds from the kitchen, and the rich scent of cooking reaches my nose. I make my way to the kitchen, a sneaking suspicion rising in my mind.\n\nI peek into the kitchen, and my eyebrows shoot up. Kryz is leaning against the counter, a glass of wine in her hand, while she talks with a tall blonde man. His back is to me, but he seems familiar. The man laughs at something Kryz just said, and I think I recognize the voice when he cracks a joke back at her, but I can't quite place it.\n\n\"Kryz, what the hell are you doing in my kitchen, and who the hell is this\"? I bark as I storm around the corner. Kryz perks up, and the man spins around, a smile on his face. \n\n\"Ah, you must be the lucky man that this stunning young woman has been gushing about all night,\" Gordon Ramsay says, as he wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, then walks towards me with his hand extended. \n\nIt takes a lot to to bewilder me, but Kryz keeps pulling it off. I shake his hand, wondering how she pulled this one off. \"Mr. Ramsay, it's an honor to meet you, and in my own home, no less,\" I say as I shake his hand. \n\n\"And what a wonderfully stocked kitchen you have,\" he replies, pumping my arm. \"Kryz said you have excellent taste and are quite the cook yourself, but I never quite know what to expect,\" he chuckles. \"I should know better than to doubt it when Kryz tells me something though!\" \n\n\"Speaking of, how . . . why . . .\" I trail off, as I gesture around the kitchen and the meal in progress.\n\n\"Kryz, a long time dear friend of mine, mentioned she had to make amends to the love of her life, and asked if I would help her,\" he explains. \"And how could I say no after all she's done for me?\" Kryz smiles and blushes, lowering her head to her chest to hide her face.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, Mr. Ramsay,\" I start. \n\n\"Please, call me Gordon,\" he interjects.\n\n\"Gordon. Please excuse me and Kryz a minute while we have a talk.\" \n\n\"Of course, I need to attend the risotto anyway,\" he says as he walks back to the stove. I motion to Kryz to follow me, and walk towards the living room.\n\nI stop in the middle of the living room and turn around as Kryz enters the room. \"What's wrong?\" she asks, acting innocently. \n\nI shake my head and sigh. \"Kryz, this has to stop. I told you, we just won't work out. We're too different. I'm a simple man, and you're beyond rich. Two totally different worlds, even.\" How different, you'll never know, I think to myself.\n\nShe takes my hand. \"Gene, we're not quite as different as you might think. I know I look young, but I've been looking a long time for the right person, and I know you're it. I can see it when I look at you,\" she says, putting emphasis on the word \"see\". \"I saw right through you on that first date, I know what you are. Once I got to know you, I let myself fall for you, because it can actually work between us!\"\n\nI stare back at her, my heart pounding. \"W-what do you mean?\" I stammer, my heart racing. She can't possibly know. I've kept it hidden so well, nobody in centuries has figured it out. I've been so careful, lived a \"normal\" life, there's no way she could know! I thought wildly.\n\nSensing my panic, she squeezes my hand. \"Relax! It's okay. I have a secret too,\" she whispers. \"I'm not who I look like either. Take a look at me, a real look. Use the sight,\" she says softly.\n\nWarily, I let my eyes unfocus, then snap them back into focus on her, letting myself see her aura. What I see makes me gasp. \n\nKryz chuckles at my reaction. \"I never told you my full name. It's Kryznothia. Yes, that Kryznothia,\" she smiles at my poleaxed expression. \"What, did you think you were the only mythical creature that really existed?\"\n\n\"Well, I hadn't really thought about it,\" I admitted. But dragons . . .\" \n\n\"Exist,\" she finishes. \"As do you. I know you've experienced that gut-wrenching heartbreak that comes from watching a loved one grow old and die. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. We won't have to go through that again. Now do you see why we have a chance, Gene?\" She let go of my hand and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. \"How about giving that one wish you can't grant a try?\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------\n\nThis was my first time doing one of these, let me know what you think!\n", "It all began when I woke up one morning to find a pile of dead cattle outside my hillside retreat. I had gone out that morning to tend the flowers and harvest my mushrooms, a typical daytime activity for your average faerie. The sun had risen above the mountaintops and through the canopy to find its way into my home through the glass, and I bounced out of bed and hovered in the air to stretch my little limbs as far as they could go. I giggled incessantly as I glided through my home, grabbing my bucket and my shovel, and twirled with enthusiasm as I made my way to front door with smile on my face. Once outside though, I was greeted with a smell and sight so foul that I let out a scream I could scarce believe hadn't ruptured my tiny eardrums.\n\nThere they were, maybe twelve or so, piled about as high as my little tree house, bleeding and rotting right beside my favorite tulips. I looked around frantically for any indication as to who or what had left them there, and that's when I saw him. A forest drake had taken to the skies and was flying as quickly as he could in the other direction. I furrowed my brow. \"Kree!\" I yelled after him. I had recognized the drake instantly. \"Kree you bloated bag of gas! GET BACK HERE!\" There was no way he could hear me now. Miles of sky passed between us the further he flew away. I was left alone to clean up his savage mess, and was none too happy about it.\n\nKree had moved into the area around a year and a half prior, just about six months after I had finished building my home near the lake. He had taken a secluded grove not a half mile from my little slice of heaven, and I wasn't enthusiastic about it. More than once I caught him eyeing me, but it's not like I wasn't used to that already. Dragons and faeries have never liked each other, and I can't deny that the prejudice was strong with me. I didn't like Kree, and after what had just happened I liked him even less.\n\nThe next morning I found myself pulling wild mushrooms out of the ground where he had left the cattle. His little present had tainted the ground, and tending to the flowers was going to have to wait until I had scorched the earth back to a healthy and workable state. I was irritated enough that my morning routine was ruined and the air still smelled faintly of cow guts. I was ten times as irate when I glanced over my shoulder to find Kree standing near the garden with a flower in his mouth.\n\n\"Kree! KREE WHAT ARE DOING?!\" I had thought for certain he had stolen it from me. \"Put that down and leave before you ruin everything!\" Kree didn't say a word, but he did exactly as he was told. The flower dropped out of his mouth and he beat back his wings until he was far overhead. The wind he kicked up from doing so toppled all of my tulips. \"KREE! Kree you ugly overgrown lizard just leave!\" Once again he was off, and I was left to assess the damage he had inflicted on my poor little garden.\n\nI caught sight of the little purple flower Kree had tried to steal, and scooped it up with both hands to see if I could still save it. Examining it closely, I quickly realized that it hadn't come from me. There was no possible way it could have. \"An amethyst rose?!\" I gasped. \"There's... there's no way.\" Gleaming and almost metallic, the petals danced with sunlight and dripped with morning dew. The scent was so sweet and berry-like that it seemed to make the lingering corpsey smell dissipate entirely. It was beyond beautiful.\n\nI spent that whole day wondering why Kree had such a rare flower with him. I couldn't imagine such a brutish drake taking up alchemy, and I certainly couldn't picture him tending to a garden, so then why? No satisfactory answer came to me. Whatever the case, I thought he owed me, and so when the tasks were done that evening I planted it beside my tulips and called it a night. I was too tired to deal with anything else, and just wanted to crawl into bed and cry myself to sleep.\n\nFor the next couple of weeks I didn't see Kree, but that didn't mean he wasn't there. In fact as time went on I was sure he was always close by, but my resentment caused me to just ignore his presence and continue trying to live my perfect little life. The amethyst rose gave my garden some much needed color, and I knew for certain its presence was making the tulips stronger. I found myself wishing I had other rare flowers like it. \"You'd look wonderful next to a cherry daisy,\" I said one time while watering the rose. \"Or maybe a mountain frill? I bet you'd all be friends.\"\n\nThe very next morning, both flowers were on my doorstep. They were potted perfectly, and whoever had taken them was careful not to damage the roots. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. I picked up one of the plants and looked it over, then past it into the forest beyond. Kree was just behind the trees, eyeing me closely. As soon as he realized I was looking back at him, he took off like a bat out of hell. I think that was the first time he ever made me smile.\n\nMonths went by like this. I would tend the garden and casually mention a different flower or plant. The plant in question would appear within the week. It didn't matter how rare it was either--desert bloom, night vine, snow stalks you name it. If I mentioned it, Kree would go and get it. I'd laugh, I'd plant it, I'd take care of it and the garden would grow. I never once let on that I knew it was him, and I think that motivated him to keep going. Before I knew it, the garden reached as far as the tree line. Kree had to move further and further out into the forest to stay hidden.\n\nAfter so much time however I stopped mentioning any plants. It wasn't that I was out of room or that I didn't want any more from him, it was that I simply couldn't think of anything else I needed or wanted. Surely there were an innumerable amount of other plants out there in the world, but even I wasn't exactly an expert in the matter. I only had the books my mother left for me and what little I had studied in the Fae Academy to go on. My garden was already so hard to manage and already so filled with plants from around the world that I suppose I just didn't think it was necessary to keep going. So I didn't.\n\nYet that didn't stop Kree from trying. I continued to find plants I didn't ask for on my doorstep, many of which he had already gotten for me though there were some I didn't even recognize. I was happy of course, but also a little sad, and I didn't even really know why. As the weeks went by, I started to notice that Kree was around less and less. His offerings were less frequent, but the offerings themselves were ever rarer than the ones before. I was certain after a while that he was only bringing me new species, and I was floored with what I saw.\n\nThere were sparkling vegetables and crystal lily pads and all manner of flowers of various colors and hues. There were saplings and fruits and various vines, so many things to make the garden and the lake look like a paradise in the middle of the forest. Everything I wanted and everything I had never knew I wanted was there. It was not lost on me that Kree had gone above and beyond to apologize, and I hadn't even told him thank you. I even started to realize the cattle was his own little way of trying to impress me. I didn't, and I couldn't understand it then, but every little bit of flora he brought revealed it little by little until eventually I started to wonder if I was even worth it at all. All that work, and what had I done except tell him that he was an ugly overgrown lizard? I found myself standing in the gardens waiting for him to arrive.\n\nIt took him three months before he did. The morning was as blissful as it always had been at first light. I was ready and willing to start the day, ready to work the old green thumb and sow miracles into the soil. I flew outside with my bucket in hand, and dropped it immediately when I saw Kree laying in the dirt beside the tulips. He wasn't moving.\n\n\"Kree?\" I asked, flying over to him. \"Kree! Where have you been?! I was getting wor...\" I stopped in my tracks. Kree was barely breathing. In his mouth was another plant. Unlike the rare specimens he had brought me over the last few months, I recognized what he had stuck between his teeth. \"Dragon Lotus?!\" My heart sunk. Dragon Lotus was exceedingly rare, thought to be extinct, and it was like this because of how beyond deadly it was to Dragons and Wyverns. It only grew in the far east beyond the ocean, and it only took ten minuets to kill a full grown dragon.\n\nKree had carried it thousands of miles over days. He was dying. \"Kree...\" I muttered, voice breaking. \"Kree what... what did you do?\"\n\n\"Kree is sorry,\" said the dragon through his mind. The dragon was too weak to speak in tongues. \"Kree cannot bring you flowers anymore. Kree must join with the forest soon.\"\n\nHe was fading fast. Even if I tried to make a cure now, he would be gone before I could get it to him. All this flora around me, and there was nothing I could do to save his life.\n\n\"Kree you stupid, stupid dragon...\" I started to say. I began crying like a baby. \"Why! Why did you do something so stupid!\" Every word out of my mouth made me hate myself more. My throat began to tighten. \"Why are you doing this to me!\"\n\n\"Because Kree loves you,\" he said. I felt my heart swell and then break into a thousand little pieces. I hated it. I was falling in love just in time to lose that love forever, and all of it was my fault. \"Will you do something for Kree?\" the dragon asked me, one eye staring up at me.\n\n\"Anything! Anything at all!\" I was cradling his head now, my own tears joining his as they fell freely for the first time since my mother passed. \"Anything.\"\n\n\"Will you bury Kree in the garden? Kree wants to be with you forever.\" I could only nod through my sobs. \"Thank you... Kree is happy.\" The dragon closed his eyes just then, and I leaned in to kiss him on his forehead.\n\n\"I love you Kree,\" I said to him. A smile appeared on his face." ]	3
	[WP] You dream you organized a unified global effort to clean up the world’s oceans and beaches. Garbage islands are gone, plastic contained, chemical discharges stopped. Awakening from your wonderful dream, you sigh, stretch your flippers and enjoy some krill.	[ "\"Damn, it's nine already?\" I said as I stretched out the last of the stiff spots on my body.\n\nThe conservation efforts were going well. With the careful persuasion of politicians and a lot of blackmail, I was able to secure their cooperation in helping to improve the environmental practices of countries and corporations.\n\nIt took ten years, but the oceans were almost back to pre-1990s levels. Only a little more push, and our generation can retire knowing that we succeeded in making the future bright for our children to fuck up all over again.\n\nToday was my designated day-off. I thought I deserved a break, after working months non-stop on the project to further reduce the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.\n\nStill, my love of the sea couldn't be sated. I put on my diving gear and net and boarded my boat. Putting on the flippers, I jump into the water and into the bountiful krill swarm underneath.\n\n---\n\nAs soon as he dove in, he transformed into a dolphin. The end." ]	1
Edit: Thank you all so much for your stories! I'm loving reading all of them :)	[WP] Since the accident, everyone completely blanks you and runs away terrified when you touch them. After 6 months of this, you've seen how pointless it all is to engage with the world and give up trying. Then a woman looks you dead in the eye and walks over. "Hey! So you turned invisible too?"	[ "I’m an idiot! How had I not known? Everything I had experience over the past 6 months began to make complete sense. I thought back to the times when I attempted to interact with people, my family thought I had died when I had disappeared during the accident. They resented themselves for the fight we had just before everything changed. When I had tried to get their attention, they were terrified. Eventually I stopped trying after I saw how me being around only caused them grief. When I left home, nobody would notice me unless I tried to actively get their attention. When I was successful they would look at me with a blank look in their eyes or in utter confusion. Eventually I made my way to this abandoned cabin in the woods. I had thought I was dead, but now to think that I'm just be invisible it all made sense! \n\nI now looked up at the first human being that had seen me in six months! With a huge grin on, I looked at this woman, who could only be a few years younger than me, and knew this would be the woman I spend the rest of my life with in this bizarre situation. I wanted to know everything about her, so I began with what we had in common.\n\n“How did you turn invisible,” I inquired.\n\n“Oh, I think I always had the power to do so, but it only manifested itself during an emotional fight with my sister. We were out at the Quarry to go cliff jumping into the water. We began fighting and my sister got so angry she pushed me off the edge. I swam to the surface of the water, but when I rose I was invisible and my sister had thought I had drowned. I’ve been trying to figure out how to turn my powers off but could never figure it out.”\n\n“Mine’s a similar story, but it was at work in a chemical plant where I fell into a bath of concentrated acid. The batch must have been made improperly because when I fell in it didn’t hurt me, but it must have turned me invisible.”\n\nThe conversation continued as we began to realize we have many common interests and hobbies. We decided to start our new lives in this cabin and soon everybody in town began to know that this cabin was haunted by two ghosts. We enjoyed that part of our powers.\n", "Months of this-prepubescent social agony-I haven’t felt in years came flooding back, and behind it, an absolution that was never given during those horribly confusing and tumultuous times. A reason that made sense. Well, as much sense as finding out that you’re invisible can make. \n\nA familiar feeling of that time was also playfully effused. She looked... beautiful!\n\nThe word, the concept, escaped me for a moment. Beauty has forever been defined by TV and magazines and until that moment, I don’t really think I ever knew what it was. Until I saw her!\n\nSomeone who seemingly knows their invisible can be anyone they want! But. most likely they end up being who they really are. She was incredible. Wearing a Mets hat, light teal jacket, cargo shorts and oversized Jordan’s with tube socks, she looked like she was on some post apocalyptic vacation. Why she was wearing a bulletproof vest really didn’t matter, it somehow makes sense when you feel like the world as you know it is completely over with.\n\nHere I am, super well dressed for my tastes because months of neglect led me to obsess about my looks. Her seemingly unimpressed reaction of me left me somewhat self-conscious. I immediately yearned to be more like her, to be free like her.\n\n“Holy SHIT!” I cried. My voice echoing off in the distance as people nearby seem startled.\n\n“Craaazy huh!?... I know. Takes awhile to get used to but here’s the most important thing realize: You’re not dead and you’re not alone.” She said. \n\n“I’m invisible!!!” I screeched.\n\nImmediately she tackled me with her hands over my mouth. “We don’t say that! People can’t know. I know this is crazy and that your scared and have questions... just calm down! This is good I promise.”\n\nWe both got up and as we did my nose accidentally touched her neck. The giggle she made and the gentle smell of her skin pretty much did it. I was going try not to but I knew I was in trouble. \n\n“C’mon Charlie! I got some place to take you!” she whispered. \n\n“Wait, how do you know my name?” I asked. Nobody has called me Charlie since my last life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Shocked at the sudden human interaction I had been missing and craving for so long, my eyes begin to well up with joyful tears. I start thinking about how ridiculous I must look to everyone around me, when suddenly what she said clicks - invisible!?\n\nWith tears still in my eyes, my face shifts from one of happiness to one of confusion.\n\n\"Do...you want to run that by me again?\" I said, my voice shaking slightly, but still projecting an obvious level of concern.\n\n\"Invisible!\" She sounded a bit excited. \"This is so exciting, I love greeting the invisible people! How did it happen to you?\"\n\nWhat an odd pair of questions. How did it happen? Invisible people? Is she bullshitting me?\n\n\"Look,\" I started. \"As much as I am loving the fact that someone is actually acknowledging me, you're gonna have to prove that I'm invisible.\" Part of me actually kind of believed her, given the 6 months of evidence. I still wanted confirmation.\n\n\"Pfft, that'll be easy. Come with me!\" She extended her hand, which I was reluctant to take, but did so regardless. Something about her touch seemed comforting. Inviting, even.\n\nShe lead me down several roads through the town, waving in the faces of passerby, which produced no reaction. I thought that was her proof, until she came to a stop. Next to us stood a towering gate, whose iron lettering spelled out a word that, upon seeing it, shook me down with an exasperating dread:\n\nCEMETERY\n\nShe must have noticed, because she gave my hand a tight squeeze and produced a smile, and began leading me down the gravel path of the miniature necropolis.\n\nWe walked for a couple minutes, coming to a stop at a headstone. On the headstone, as I had dreaded, was my name, birth date, and a date of death, listed to be six months ago, and the day the world began ignoring me.\n\nIt was then that I really took in the woman before me. She was clad in a white sweater, bright enough of a white that one would assume it was bleached every other day, and pants of the same hue, with golden locks of hair that one could only describe as angelic. I cast her a morose glance, to which she nods with confirmation. I direct a blank stare to my headstone.\n\n\"How did it happen?\" I asked, somewhat thankful to have been blissfully unaware of my demise. She responded, but with a voice more divine, for lack of a better word.\n\n\"I'm not permitted to tell you, but I can tell you that it was not painful, nor gruesome.\" I felt some manner of relief. \"Come on,\" she said. \"I have to take you.\"\n\nNo explaination was needed. I knew exactly where I was being taken. I nodded, and suddenly a light, starting small and dim, but steadily and quickly increasing in both size and intensity, ripped into the air in front of me. I took the woman's hand once again as she lead me to the afterlife.\n\nI had finally accepted my death.", "Six months back, when I saw the news about my disappearance on TV, I had let out a chuckle. That's what I wanted, didn't I? To disappear from this world, and find some time of my own. That accident from which I came out unscratched from the insides of a crashed SUV, provided me just that. I was in Barcelona, and in love with that city. It was the first time I was traveling to find inspiration. Something I had to do since it had been five years since I came out with my last novel. It was a bestseller. But the magic waned off after that. \n\nIn my chateau, when I saw that news I felt wonderful. I needed some time off from the fans and journalists harrowing me about my next book. I closed myself in my room, stopped all connection from the outer world. Ate and slept in my room. Never went out. And then after two weeks of total hide-out, finally found my streak back. After that, I wrote and wrote and wrote. For two months, I stayed inside the chateau. Never went out except in disguise, ordered food only online through a local ordering portal. Snapped away all means of communication. And it worked. In three months, I was ready with my novel! \n\nI rewired my house phone (I didn't remember where I'd kept my phone) and called my agent. He picked at once, but it seemed here was some issue with the connection. While I heard him loud and clear, he couldn't listen to me at all. I went into the basement and drove out my BMW. In half an hour I was at his door. \n\nHe opened the door and looked at me. I should say rather that he looked through me! For after only a few seconds he closed the door on me. I rang the doorbell again, and he opened the door again. But again he ignored me and closed the door on me. I would have kept on cursing him if I hadn't been walking absent mindedly on the road stumble upon a boy who was skating on the road. \n\nAnd then the look of horror on his face betrayed the funny thing that had happened to me. I had really disappeared. The boy left his skateboard and ran with his eyes wide and the color drained off his face. That day after a few more stumbling like this, it got confirmed. I had become invisible. \n\nSix months post that accident, with a book ready to publish, and my inability to talk to someone, I decided to take my own life. I was already dead. My body is gone, only an essence was left here. And it's hearsay to continue like this. In this form. Only a devil can do that, to remove my essence, soul from my body. I don't deserve to live. \n\nStanding on the edge of the bridge, among the hundreds of the passerby, it felt odd jumping off to take my life. But that's my curse. I had to die to free myself from this utterly useless form.\n\nSo you can understand the surprise and spring in my steps when I heard someone speaking ... to me. \n\n'So you too are like me!' \n\nIt was a girl's voice. And I almost fell down hearing that voice. But I found my balance, turned around and found a woman in her mid-twenties smiling at me. \n\n'you can really see me!' I asked in utter surprise.\n\nYes, I can,' she smiled jubilantly. \n\nI jumped on the safer side of the bridge, stumbled, ran towards her, and hugged her that felt like an eternity. There were tears in my eyes. 'There there,' she said caressing my back. 'I know how it feels,' she continued saying, 'A year back I was there. And see, now I'm good.'\n\nI lifted my head from her shoulder and looked at her in surprise. 'So now you are normal?' I asked. She smiled and nodded her head. 'No, no. If you mean that invisible stuff. No, I'm still not visible. But we are not alone. there are many like us. We are, for the lack of better word, special. So it's a progress, isn't it? Finding that we are not alone.'\n\nA brief moment of hope that had surfaced within me ebbed away. But I knew she was right, at least I was not alone. \n\nThis realization eased my pain a bit. But what is our purpose then? Wiping my tears off my face, I asked, 'So how does it help? We are still invisible. Work of devil. We better die.'\n\n'No, no,' she said loudly this time. 'There is someone who can help us. I know his place. But I can not go alone there. So maybe we both can go.'\n\n'Why not!' I shouted. 'Let's go then.'\n\nWe slipped into the car and ran off the bridge. She gave me slip bearing an address. Must be an hour away, I estimated. \n\nDuring the journey, Rhea, that girl, told me about her life. She was a medical student and then one day she woke up in her dormitory to find that she had turned invisible. So it's not just an accident that could make one invisible, I reasoned. Maybe it's some kind of mutation, an illness. Whatever, I needed to go back to the normal life. I made a mental note of giving up on all the bad habits, helping my friends, seeing my parents more often. \n\nThe navigator announced we have reached the destination. I looked out to find a duplex standing conspicuously in-between two big buildings. \"Yes, it's the place\" Rhea announced. \"It seemed rather an odd one,\" I muttered to myself. But how does it matter until my works get done?\n\nWe both walked into the house. The house had a musty smell. like that old house of my grandmother which always felt waterlogged, and covered with dust. 'Anybody home,' I asked loudly. Only a sound of birds fluttering returned in the response. As it was dark, I felt the floor cautiously and stepped forward. \n\nIt was then I felt a sharp blow on my back. I stumbled forward two steps, and suddenly I was airborne. \"What the..' I managed to say before I realised I was falling down and down in what seems like a well. After a few moments, I landed with a thud. I sat up at once and looked above. Only the opening of the wall appeared, its color the color of the waxing moon. Then came the sound of a laughter. A girl's laughter. It was Rhea. \n\n'Sorry my friend,' her voice boomed above me, 'but one sun has to go down for other to come up. Now let me tell you if you can ever get out from here, which is unlikely considering that the opening will not last long, find someone like us, and send them here if you want to be normal again. It's a curse which has only one solution. Take this.'\n\nI saw a dark object coming down. It was a torch, followed by a book. \n\n'Read this,' she said. 'it will tell you. 'My diary of the last one year.' And then her voice stopped. \n\n'Please please..' I shouted. But she had left. \n\nI felt angry at her for doing this to me. Now knowing that I could be cured my desired to die was replaced by an acute desire to live. \n\nI opened her diary and started reading the page. What I read took my breath away... \n\n\"It is not possible,' I whispered under my breath. \n\nShe was a witch. ", "It happened on a rainy Tuesday, as I was walking back from school. I felt a powerful movement near my chest, like a sudden gust of wind. Then something hit me, and it all went black.\n\nI woke up feeling absolutely fine. I had been warned by my dad that this happens after an accident. It takes a while for the pain to set in because your body is in shock. If this happens, just lie down and wait to be rescued. So I did.\n\nI could hear people walking past, and the rain falling near my face. The crowd seemed excited. I heard footsteps to my left. \"What a gorgeous car\", said one girl. \"It's a Maserati. No wonder everyone stopped to admire it\", responded another. \n\nNo one was paying attention to me, and laying under the rain gets old pretty fast. So I ignored my dad's advice, and stood up. It felt okay. I quickly checked myself. I seemed fine. No blood, no dust, no nothing. I looked quite good actually.\n\nI walked towards the Maserati. It glistened in the rain. No wonder everyone was admiring it. What rude people though. No one acknowledged my presence, or would move to let me get closer so I could see it better.\n\nAnyway, it was getting late, time to get on my way. With a brisk walk, I quickly caught up with the two girls from earlier. I recognised Eva, from swim class. I like her. So I shouted as I went past, \"Hey Eva, nice car, eh!\". She froze to death and stared right through me. \"Did you hear that?\" she whispered to her friend. \"Hear what? Another one of your 'voices', Eva?\" She chuckled, and dragged Eva away. I stood there in shock. What had just happened?\n\nThen I noticed her. A beautiful girl was standing across the street, seemingly oblivious to the rain. She had the shiniest golden hair I had ever seen, and a broad, peaceful smile. I instantly forgot all about Eva, fascinated. She hopped towards me with no hesitation, and said \"Hey! So you turned invisible too?\"\n\n\"Of course not!\" I said. \"What a silly idea\". And then it dawned on me. She was right. The crowd had completely blanked me. I had terrified Eva. I was invisible. Oh well, at least this beautiful girl noticed me.\n\n\"Okay, maybe a little.\" I acknowledged. \"And how do you know?\" She stared right at me and uttered \"Name's Azrail. It's my job to know. Come with me.\" She grabbed my hand and we walked to the park nearby. We sat on a bench.\n\nI couldn't help thinking she looked really, really beautiful. I noticed her big, blue, almost angelic eyes. There was deep sadness to them. Maybe she had been invisible for too long...\n\nWe sat on the bench in silence for a while. The rain stopped. A rainbow appeared. \"Here it is\", she said, \"The covenant. Let's go!\" I was flabbergasted and a bit nervous. \"Go where?\".\n\nHer deep melancholic eyes looked straight at me: \"You'll see. I think you'll like it. People you know are waiting for you.\"", "It caught me off guard, no one had so much as looked my way in months. I was in disbelief, I turned my head to look around. Surely she was joking with a friend behind me.\n\nShe giggled before saying “You’re the only invisible one here silly.” Her smile seemed to radiate warmth and joy into every cell of my body. Maybe she had a normal smile and it only made me feel this way because it was the first smile that was meant for me in months. No matter what the reason was, I liked it a lot.\n\n“I don’t understand, how can you see me? Nobody has been able to see me since... since the accident.” \n\n“I know” she said, still seeming to emit rays of warmth. “That’s because you died after the accident.” She said it in such a calm and reassuring way that I didn’t feel the need to be shocked by this news.\n\n“I... I guess I kind of figured that out awhile back.” I stammered “I guess I just wasn’t man enough to accept it. So why am I still here then? Isn’t there a heaven or something?” \n\n“That’s actually why I’m talking to you.” She said softly “I’m here to take you to a better place, you can feel free to call it heaven if you’d like. Lots of people there do, including your mother.”\n\nSuddenly I was overwhelmed with excitement “My moms there?” I asked enthusiastically \n\nThen my heart seemed to sink to a bottomless pit, the last time I had seen my mom was 6 months ago. She was in the car with me when I lost control and went over the guard rail. Had? Had I killed my mother?\n\nThe lady seemed to have read my thoughts because she quickly replied “Don’t worry she’s very happy there and she can’t wait to see you. Why don’t you say we go to her now” the angelic woman held her hand out for me to grab. \n\nThe excitement that had been snatched from me just moments before was now back. I stared at her hand for a moment. My heart was now beating so fast it felt as though it was about to explode out of my chest. I began to raise my hand, I was trembling slightly. As I slowly moved my hand closer and closer to hers imagines of my mother danced around in my mind. My hand was now inches from hers. I couldn’t believe I was only moments away from seeing my mom again. I couldn’t wait to tell her I love her again and how sorry I was... and how I failed her. As I was just about to close my hand around hers she vanished. Everything went black and I felt the sensation that I was falling.\n\nMy eyes opened. I was staring at white clouds scattered through out the blue sky, I could smell freshly cut grass. I had woken up from my dream. I sat up slightly, moving slowly as I began to remember where I was. I was sitting on the grass, it was quiet, I looked forward and saw my mother’s tombstone. I exhaled a long slow breath before standing up and placing a hand on the cold granite. It had been 6 months and the days hadn’t gotten any easier. “Sorry again mom, I’ll be back tomorrow.” I whispered in a choked voice as tears ran down my face.", "It was six months ago when my life changed forever. I had just gotten off work and was on my way to the subway when I noticed a man following me. The streets were almost empty, a few other travelers passing by under the low glow of the street lamps. The man kept his distance, but he seemed to locked onto me as I made my way down the sidewalk. I turned down another street, then ducked into a shadowy alleyway, crouching down behind a dumpster. I counted to fifty, then peeped my head out and looked towards the street. The man was standing in the alleyway entrance. He was tall, wearing a large jacket with the hood up covering his face. Though I couldn’t see them, I could feel his eyes on me.\n\nI stared up at him for a moment, frozen in fear, then turn and ran down the alley. I didn’t look back, couldn’t look back, to see if the man followed. I just ran, following the alley out to another street. Suddenly I was blinded by lights as a large chemical truck came barreling towards me. I tried to jump out of the way as the truck turned and slid across the street, then nothing but darkness. I remember waking up a short time later in a puddle of some sort of blue chemical. \n\nI stood, holding my head in my hands. It was pounding furiously, and I groaned. Once the pounding started to subside, I looked at my surroundings. The chemical truck lay on its side, the blue chemical I was laying in dripping from a large crack in the storage tank. There were a few workers in bright yellow containment suits attempting to clean the spill. I stared at them, then down at my blue stained clothes.\n\n“Um, guys? Should I be concerned here?” I asked. The workers ignored me. I walked up to the closest one and waved at him.\n\n“Hey there, dude! What the fuck is going on?”\n\nThe worker stopped and looked up, then turned to one of the others. “You say something, Jeff?”\n\n“Nah man, why?”\n\n“Thought I heard someone say something.”\n\n“What did they say?”\n\n“They just said hey. It sounded like a girl.”\n\n“So you thought it was me?”\n\n“Shut up.”\n\nThe worker tilted his head back down and continued to mop up the chemical. I just stood there, staring at them. Could they not see me? Confused, I turned away and started walking toward the blue police lights nearby. There I found the truck driver giving his report to an officer.\n\n“Look, I’ve already told you, I was coming down the road and this girl just ran out in front of me! I swear I thought I hit her! I slammed on breaks so hard I lost control of the damn truck and then it flipped, and Jesus I’m going to lose my job over this bullshit. “\n\n“I’m sorry about that, sir. Now, tell me again, what did this girl look like?”\n\n“I told you! I thought you were writing this shit down.”\n\n“Sir, there is no need for the language. I know we have asked this already, but we’ve done a search of the area and there were no signs of a hurt girl anywhere. If you could give me the description, we can put out a search for her and find out what happened.”\n\n\n“I’ve already told you what happened, but fine. I only got a glimpse of her, but she looked kind of small, maybe around five-three, five-four. She wore a black hooded jacket and one of those toboggan hats all the kids wear now a days.”\n\n“Any other features that stood out? Race, hair color, etc?”\n\n“She was white, and she looked young.”\n\n“Could you place an age?”\n\n“I’d say she looked about twenty, twenty-two tops.”\n\n“I’m twenty-four, asshole, and you almost killed me with your shitty driving!” I yelled.\n\n“Thank you, sir. Please wait here a moment while I enter this information in.” The officer turned and walked back to his vehicle. What the fuck was going on? I walked up to the driver, got right up in his face and stared into his eyes. The driver stared back and through me. I spat in his face.\n\nThe driver pulled his head back in confusion, then wiped at his face. He stared at his fingers with disgust. “What the fuck is this? Did a bird just shit on me or something?” He wiped his fingers on his jacket, then pulled a rag from his pocket and cleaned his face. Terrified, I started to run. What the hell is going on? What is this shit all over me, and why can’t anyone see or hear me? I ran for a long time until I found myself outside my apartment building. I went inside and walked up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. Once inside, I stripped and got in the shower. The steam and heat comforted me, clearing my head and easing my headache. I scrubbed myself clean, then got out and dried off. I cleaned the steam off my mirror and found that I no longer had a reflection.\n\nNow, I won’t say I didn’t freak out, because I totally did, but I feel I kept myself pretty well under control all things considered. I only screamed for about ten minutes. For some reason, even though my reflection was gone, I could still see my body when I looked down. Pictures were out, though; same for video. What was that blue shit in that truck, and how in the hell did it do this to me?\n\nI tried to remember the name on the truck that almost hit me, but it was useless. When I first woke up I was too groggy to really comprehend everything, and by the time I could I was already running home. I tried to search the Internet for news stories relating to the accident, but I could find nothing. It was like it never happened. Unsure what to do next, I tried going to the hospital to get checked out. That was a waste of time. I ended up spending hours screaming at nurses, who went along business as usual. It wasn’t until I lost my temper and threw a clipboard that they had any idea anything unusual was going on.\n\nI had been following this one nurse back into a supply closet when I picked up her clipboard and threw it past her head at the wall. This freaked the poor lady out, she started screaming about ghosts and ran out into the hallway. I followed her, pushing another nurse out of the way. She turned back in surprise at being suddenly shoved by apparently nothing, watching her coworker running away in fear.\n\nI followed the nurse into her boss’s office, where she started to frantically tell her about the “ghost.” I went over to the boss’s desk and picked up a notepad and paper. The two ignored me, engrossed in their conversation, as I scribbled a message on the notepad and held it up in front of the boss’s face. As I thought, she kept looking forward if nothing was there. I let the notepad drop to the desk, which startled the two out of their conversation. They stared at the notepad, then the nurse slowly reached forward and picked it up. She read it aloud.\n\n“I am not a ghost, you nitwit. I don’t know what happened to me. Please help. I’m standing right beside you.” The nurse and her boss looked at each other, then turned their heads opposite my direction, looking for me. I sighed in frustration.\n\nAfter that I spent most of my time walking around town, trying to get people to notice me. My friends and family thought I went missing, and it hurt so much to see them in such pain that I stopped going by. No use hurting myself for something I cannot fix. My job replaced me, and my apartment was rented out to a nice old Chinese couple. My key still works, so sometimes when they are not at home or asleep I’ll stop by for a quick bite or to watch some TV. Don’t judge me, it isn’t like I can make any money to feed myself. The fact that their couch was amazingly comfortable had no bearing on my decision to mooch off of them. \n\nSo that was my life for a while until I met Rhiannon. I was on one of my many strolls downtown when I bumped into her, literally. This was strange in more ways than one. The first being that people tend to form an unconscious bubble around me, so that they never bump into me, even though they don’t know I am there. The second being, well, she could see me. When we bumped into each other, we both let out a muttered “excuse me,” then continued walking. After a few steps, I did a double take and turned around. I found that she had done the same, and we stood staring at each other. My skin began to crawl as I felt her eyes on me, and realized with horror that this was the first time anyone has seen me in months. I must look horrendous. \n\nRhiannon was the first to move, lifting her hand up to give me a little wave. I waved back, shyly.\n“Hey! So, I see you’ve turned invisible as well.”\n“It seems so, though you don’t look very invisible.”\nShe laughed, then walked up to me and held out her hand. I took it and shook.\n\n“Hi, I’m Rhiannon,” she said.\n\n“Nice to meet you, I’m Sarah.”\n\nRhiannon smiled at me, then asked, “So you work at Tarnhelm, too?”\n\n“Tarnhelm? What is that?”\n\nShe furrowed her brow at me. “You don’t know what Tarnhelm is? Then how did you get access to Arethusa?”\n\n“Lady, what the fuck are you talking about?”\n\nRhiannon took a step back from me, then asked “Are you the girl who caused one of the trucks to flip? Jesus, we thought you were dead!” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone. I don’t know who she was calling, but I decided that I did not want to stay to find out. I turned and started to run.\n\n*\n\nSo I just threw this together, so it is very rough and unfinished. If any of you like it, let me know and I'll finish it up. Edited for formatting.", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nMarnie slowly made her way through the Walmart, sliding a finger along the shelves. She sighed, picking up a can of sunscreen and watching as it began to shimmer before it faded to nothing. \n\nThings had been like this ever since the accident. She had watched family pictures crumble to dust upon touching them, had cried gallons and gallons of tears over losing her family even though she could still see them. She had watched them bury an empty casket. \n\nBut then, sometime a year or two ago, everything had stopped mattering. Maybe it was that she could no longer interact with the world in a meaningful way. She had grown sick of her mother recoiling in fear every time Marnie touched her face, and she had grown sick of the way her dog, Juno, growled at her, his eyes seeing straight through her whenever she tried to pet his fur. \n\nThere was nothing left for her here. Yet she couldn't even die. \n\nSomeone bumped into her, and she crashed into the shelf. \n\n\"Watch it!\" she snarled, whipping around. Even though she knew they couldn't see her, she still couldn't help the resentment that bubbled up. \n\nThe girl, with brown hair and dark brown eyes that looked too old for her age, stared at her. \n\nMarnie froze, then stepped to the side. \n\nThe girl's gaze followed. \n\n\"You can see me?\" Marnie croaked. Her voice...she hadn't used it in over a year now. It sounded foreign to her ears. Raspy. \n\nThe girl slowly nodded. \n\nMarnie felt her eyes prick with tears. She walked up to the girl, taking her hands in sheer ecstasy. \"You're invisible too?\" \n\nThe girl slowly nodded her head and clasped her hands over Marnie's, rubbing them gently. Marnie gripped onto her hands more tightly. The only thing she'd felt ever since the accident was cold. Not even fire could warm her up. It was first time she'd felt warmth in a long, long time, and she clung to it desperately. \"Do you know why you're invisible?\" the girl asked. She cocked her head to the side, and Marnie noticed at she had a slightly shimmery quality to her. \n\n\"No, I...I don't know. I've never met anyone who could see me before, and I'm just so unbelievably happy to see you. I can't even begin to--\" \n\n\"Stop.\" The girl raised a hand to Marnie's lips. \"I would love to stand here and talk further, but we really can't. So let me just give you the shortest explanation possible.\" She looked somewhere past Marnie before her gaze snapped back to Marnie's. \"The multiverse is real, and you're in the wrong parallel universe. That's why no one can see you. Because you're not meant to be here. I'm here to bring you back. But we have to hurry because you're running out of time. We're all running out of time.\" \n\n**\n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9u98il/wp_since_the_accident_everyone_completely_blanks/e932qn4/) is up! :)", "“What do you think they see?” I ask.\n\n“What do you mean? They never look at us.” She’s eating a bag of caramel corn from the candy store, and I have some curly fries from Arby’s. Don’t judge me. That’s the best the mall food court had to offer.\n\n“I mean, when we touch them. They always look at me, for just a second, before they run.”\n\n“I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to know.”\n\nI don’t know much about what happened. From what I can piece together from my belongings, I used to be a research assistant up at the University, but then the accident happened, and I can’t remember anything specific.\n\nI woke up in a hospital bed with a jagged scar across the length of my left forearm, and no one in the room.\n\nI walked through the hospital in my gown. No nurse, no doctor, no visitor or patient stopped me. I reached out to one of them, and grabbed her arm. She looked in my eyes, the same look I would see a thousand times from that point on, and turned and ran.\n\nI tapped a doctor on the shoulder. A middle aged lady waiting on her son’s checkup. A receptionist watching the Office discreetly on his phone. They all turned, and went the other way.\n\nI walked home, thinking things would be different. But when I knocked on the door ten times and no one answered, I let myself in through the back gate. I heard them laughing in the backyard. Maybe there was a party for my return, I’d thought. Maybe it was all some massive practical joke, and I would be Punk’d or something.\n\nBut when I saw the look in my mom’s eyes, that look of fear, of…disgust, I realized something was terribly wrong.\n\n“What happens if you call them?” I ask. “Have you ever tried that?”\n\n“No one picks up. I don’t even know if they get the calls.”\n\n“What about voicemail?” I asked.\n\nShe rolls her eyes. “You really think They wouldn’t have thought of that?”\n\nThat’s what we’ve concluded at this point. It has to be someone, whether a God or a Demon or some uber-powerful scientist running some twisted experiment who did this to us. Actually, scratch that. It can’t be a God. No just God would ever inflict this on someone.\n\nIt hurt so much, at first. I’ve always been kind of invisible my whole life, from getting picked last on the soccer field in kindergarten to being left out of the yearbook completely my senior year. But I always had people who loved me. My friends. My mom and dad. My older brother, as much shit as he gave me. They would talk to me and listen to me and answer me and tell me that things would be okay, and I believed them.\n\nBut then I was nobody to them, and it felt like they had abandoned me. Left me behind on purpose, disgusted by me. Of course, I ran through the situation logically so many times. This wasn’t my fault. I had never tried to hurt or wrong anybody. I didn’t deserve this, and I believed that most of the time. But no matter what, the loneliness ate at me, confronted me every night with the stark unavoidability of itself. Sometimes, you know the answer to your pain, your loneliness, but you just need to hear it from someone else. I couldn’t, and the silence only became more deafening. It was like I was in solitary confinement, and the world was my cell.\n\nEventually, I came to appreciate one part of it. The freedom. No one bothered me, no one cared about what I did. For whatever reason, they couldn’t.\n\nI could walk into a 7-11 and get myself an Arizona Mucho Mango whenever I wanted. I could go to any store in the mall, and pick out any brand name shirt or jacket I wanted, and take it out just to throw it in the trash or leave it on the ground. I could go to the movies whenever I wanted, and sit in any row, any time, any day.\n\nBut it still hurt. Then, one day, I was in the theater. I’d just gotten out of the latest Avengers, and was thinking about sticking around for another showing.\n\nShe was standing there, in the aisle, looking straight at me. Sometimes that happened, but they were never looking at me, as much as I wanted it. I figured there was someone behind me, so I ignored her and kept looking at what was showing, walking around the theater.\n\n“You’re invisible too?” she asks, suddenly standing right next to me. “I watched you take those nachos.”\n\nI looked at the empty bag in my hands. I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. Were there any left?”\n\nShe smiles “Nope. But that’s okay. I’m sure we can get some more.”\n\nFrom that point on, things were different. Of course, I fell in love with her, and as far as I know, she with me. I do think it was a product of loneliness, like how even forty degree weather can feel like a sauna if you’ve been out in a below-zero snowstorm, but I didn’t question it.\n\nBut other times, I did think maybe it was a God who had made it happen, who put us together so we could go to Disneyland and turn all the rides on at night or get on an airplane and fly to whatever city we wanted, sitting first class. A God who made it so that the best part of doing whatever was that we were together.*\n\nWe reach the theater, and she stops me before we walk in. The new Star Wars is out, and we wanted to get the best seats in the house. She senses that I am a little anxious to get in, so we don't have to kick anyone out of their seats.\n\n“Don’t worry about them,” she said. “Why does it matter?”\n\n“Because…I don’t understand. Why did it happen to us?”\n\n“I don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll ever know at this point. But…I do know that they don’t matter. My whole life, I didn’t exist to them. You didn't exist to them. Now…it’s like they don’t exist to us. They’re invisible to us. Isn’t that great?”\n\nI can’t help but smile. “It is.” I wonder if she knows that even if they could see us, if all this hadn’t happened, I would feel the same way, as long as I had met her.", "“I-invisible?” I cried in exasperation. She laughed slightly. \n\n“Yes. You didn’t know. How could you not?” She asked me. \n\n“What do you mean I’m invisible?” I asked her still in shock. \n\n“No one can see you?” She looks at me as if I’m joking but I could guarantee this was no laughing matter. “People don’t see you... ever have someone freak out if you carried something or brush past them?”\n\nI thought back to all these months of what felt like total isolation in this bustling city. Every stoic expression in my direction, every scream as I neared or touched someone. Even the cashier at the check out line panicking as I attempted to pay for that watermelon last week. Suddenly everything made sense. I assumed the accident had something to do with it. Never did I expect it to have made me invisible. \n\n“I thought people thought I looked different after the accident...” my voice trailed off. I was talking to myself more than this strange woman. \n\n“It’s alright. I was confused at first too. I mean how could it be possible. It was the most heart breaking thing too. I lost so much.” She explained. Suddenly a small female voice sounded, more prominent than the other voices of the crowd. \n\n“Mommy! I told you you’d find him!” She came running through the crowd brushing past a few pedestrians causing them to shiver or look around. \n\n“I gained so much too.” The strange woman wrapped an arm around the little girl. “I was pregnant at the time of my accident. None of us thought that she’d be invisible too.”\n\n“Us?” I asked. \n\n“Yeah. We’ve got a whole community. Actually this little squirt is the one that caused them to send scouts for you. The watermelon incident. That put on quite the show. She found the people’s reactions so funny so she followed you around for a bit and realized that you’re also invisible.” The women hugged the girl closer to her side. “Come with us. You won’t feel alone or ignored again.”\n\nThe thought of being able tot talk to people again was more than enough to convince me. It’s not easy living in total isolation. I gladly grabbed the little girl’s outstretched hand and followed them to a group of people just like me. " ]	10
	[WP]You have written a perfect algorithm which will predict the events of next few days if you feed in events of the previous year. You feed in the events of the last year and the results shock you. Either you have to leave the country or kill one person who is gonna turn this country into a chaos.	[ "I leaned back in my desk chair. I finally completed the predictive algorithm. I had spent the last half decade working on. All that was left to do was run it. \n\nI had an extensive record of every major world, political and my personal life's events. All I had to do was input the last year's worth of data and let the algorithm do what it was designed to do. Predict the future. \n\nThe timing couldn't be better. I was between jobs and considering a move. The destination still undecided. For the next 16 hours, I was a human inputting machine. \n\nAll that was left to do now was let it run. \n\nI never could've imagined what I watched come onto my screens. First it didn't seen to work. Then, just as I was about to call it a day, images of myself started to flicker onto my screens. \n\nI was walking to a bus station. A woman pushing a stroller walked past. She got onto a crowded bus and left the stroller. I called out for her as the bus started to pull away. \n\nI ran to the stroller and as I approached I heard a ticking. It sounded like a bomb. I pulled the blanket back just in time to see the number reach 00:00. Then it blew up and the images disappeared. \n\nI sat, blankly staring into the black screen. Replaying the predictive future. I quickly tinkered with the algorithm and set it so it would display the predictive date, time and location. \n\nThen, I ran the algorithm again. The day was two days in the future at 7:23am. The location was my local bus station. \n\nI considered calling the cops but quickly told myself they'd brush it off. I knew I had to stop the attack myself. \n\nI ran a facial recognition on the woman and got her name and address. I did a basic search and found her FB page. \n\nShe had affiliations with all the major terrorist groups, foreign and domestic. \n\nI didn't know anything about bombs, so I \"bumped\" into her outside of her apartment the following morning. \n\nAfter striking up a conversation, I made comments about the government and how I wished people would open their eyes, and how someone should do something. \n\nIt worked! She invited me to have coffee. Afterwards, she asked me back to her place. I asked her about family/friends and she said her only family was stationed all over the world awaiting orders. \n\nThen, I killed her. I didn't bother getting rid of the body. I just went home, entered the event and generated updated predictive results. \n\nThat was three years ago. I have been using it to be a vigilante. To this day I am still using my algorithm, that I have shared with no one, until now. \n\nThe latest predictive outcome shows WW3. In less than 60 hours my country and it's alliances will declare war on it's enemies. \n\nI have no idea what to do. However, I am on my way to the capitol to try and stop it. Who knows what will happen, the predictive outcome never shows me past 80 hours. \n\nWish me, and the world as we know it, luck. " ]	1
	[WP] You get contacted by several governments to assassinate the most dangerous hitman that ever lived. The problem? You are the hitman they are looking for.	[ "I close the laptop and push it away from me in disgust. When I'd received the notification that a new contract was available, I'd felt my pulse race for the first time in weeks. I never felt comfortable when I wasn't working, but I chose the contracts I accepted very stringently. It makes for bad business to take all comers.\n\nBut this? This was a joke. A fat contract, alright - high seven figures. The money had never been part of my thought process, though. Truth be told, I'd do it for free. But when you get to certain echelons of society, the money that changes hands is more like a way of ensuring credibility than because it's actually needed.\n\nKill the man known only as Rieper, or The Reaper if you were telling campfire stories. The assassin who walked in the shadows and could come for you no matter where you hid. Kill the master chameleon, who could blend into any environment and carry out a contract in such a way that not even the mortician would question the nature of the accident. Kill...me.\n\nThe contract is for me. I guess the powers that be have decided that my career has gone on too long. More likely, they think I learned something on my last assignment that I can't know. So they decided that no amount of skill or loyalty to the contract is worth the risk of having me out there in the wind. Or maybe they just don't like me anymore. \n\nBut the fools had put the contract out in the open. They didn't know my true identity - they don't know the true identities of any contractor worth his salt - so they had no choice but to make an open call. They'll be coming for me now - yes - coming in droves. Leagues of lesser assassins who can't hope to match the experience I've gained over the years. Experience I've gained in countless -\n\nI feel his presence long before I hear him. He's good. He's got the drop on me for sure. I don't move a muscle. I smell his sweat, and the oil on his gun. There's only one man it can be.\n\n\"Hello John.\" I say, sighing gently.\n\n\"Hello 47,\" Wick responds. \n\n\"You working tonight?\" I ask, already knowing the answer.\n\n\"Afraid so.\"" ]	1
	[WP] "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor. You never really knew the true nature of your work, did you?"	[ "They called him Doctor Melancholy. He worked on a team with Doctor Epiphany, Doctor Euphoria, and Doctor Sympathy. The Four Horsemen of Hospice, though the title was not accurate. Rather, they symbolized a quad-colored roulette wheel. \n\nThey worked in a brilliant white space, deep underground. They lived near in complex, on the same floor as their offices, seeing sunlight only in the form of a lamp which warded off seasonal effectiveness disorder. Every day, they were sent patients according to their skill set. Doctor Melancholy occasionally envisioned the nameplate on his door as saying Inevitability, M.D. \n\nDoctor Melancholy was a deliverer of bad news, dissimilar to Doctor Sympathy. Whereas she provided comfort, he existed to catalog the emotions of his patients. Patients sent to him did not receive treatment, nor was he even capable of prescribing any. He was the monolith, probing the brains of all who were unable to shake an overwhelming sense of dread about their futures. Once his notes were finished, his patients were escorted away. He never saw a patient twice. \n\nRarely did he speak outside of his duties. Perhaps only once a year, when he himself was probed. If he was stoic, then his assessor was sociopathic. During those reviews, a two-way conversation could not exist. It was simply impossible. \n\n“Do you question the purpose of your duties?” His Accessor would ask, year after year. \n\n“Yes,” he would answer.\n\n“What do you believe they are?” Always the same obvious trap.\n\n“I question the purpose of my duties, but I do not seek an answer. I have no beliefs.” \n\nAnd every year, he would be reinstated. This continued for thirty years until he entered his assessment one year to find a new face.\n\nIt smiled at him.\n\n“Doctor, we have been reviewing your assessments. I’m afraid we don’t believe you,” it said. \n\n“You may have your beliefs, but I do not.” \n\n“No?” It pressed. An overwhelming sense of dread. \n\n“I know the purpose of my duties,” he felt his emotional weight straining thin ice. \n\n“Do you?” It was elated. \n\nHe explicated. \n\nIts ivory teeth gleamed. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Lauren has just woken up to cold, eerie silence. She looks out the window of her third-floor apartment. The world is shrouded in a deep mist, the streets are filled with water, and countless boats form a link that stretches far off into the fog...	[ " \n\nLauren shuddered reflexively as a light breeze passed through her apartment. She bundled up in her dad’s old field jacket and looked out the window again.\n\nThe hour she had given herself, that she had given the universe to make sense, was up. A shower, change of clothes, and breakfast later, and things were still as they were.\n\nShe knew that wasn’t right. Rational people don’t give the universe time to explain, they find an explanation. They go online and look for news stories, they call their friends and ask their neighbors. They don’t hide and wait for everything to get better.\n\nSo sayeth my therapist, anyways. But good advice none the less. \n\nShe darted through her apartment, a maze of canvasses and sketch books, and grabbed her phone on the way to the door. Unlocking her phone, she tapped the news icon, but… No service.\n\nShe paused in front of the door, all of the momentum for her burst of self-confidence gone. She turned around and looked at the foggy window again, the building across the street waxing and waning in visibility. It looked normal, but she knew it wasn’t. \n\nShe found herself stepping forward and looking out. She peered down to the street below, submerged now in inky water, and the boats that had been gathered. Wooden, plastic, and metal, the hodge-podge fleet drifted aimlessly. \n\nA ripple drew her attenti-\n\nA pounding on the door sent her to the floor. She made no attempt to even breathe as she looked around her apartment for anything she could use as a weapon.\n\n“Hello,” a voice called out before another knock, “Anyone in there?”\n\nLauren moved to the door and opened it up. It was the super, Mr. Tiller. She had passed him in the halls a few times and he had fixed her sink once.\n\n“Right, you’re the artist lady. Laurie, right?”\n\n“Lauren, Lauren Mora- Uh, Hendrix. Hey, do you know what’s going on? Was there some kind of flood or something?”\n\n“No clue, I’m just checking on everyone to make sure they’re okay. Sorry it took so long to get up here. No major problems?\n\n“Uh, no service on my phone, but nothing big. Power and water are still on.”\n\n“Yeah, somehow. If you need anything, I’m on the second floor. We’ve got some food and blankets down there. Mostly for the old folks and kiddos, but you never know.”\n\n“I’m fine, thank you.”\n\n“Okay. Hopefully this’ll all be over soon.”\n\nShe closed the door and she could hear him shuffle off. She looked back around her apartment and felt her anxiety rise up. A familiar, sickeningly comforting children’s song rose up inside her head.\n\nQuickly she moved to the couch and balled up an old blanket around her. She pulled on her headphones and started turning up the volume.\n\nThere was another knock on the door.\n\n“I said I’m fine,” she half-yelled.\n\nAnother knock.\n\nThe volume went up.\n\nAnother.\n\nThen another, cutting through the noise.\n\nShe pulled off the headphones and went to the door as another, louder knock came. \n\nToo loud. She darted off to her bedroom as she heard the door break open. Before she could get to the box under her bed, her feet fell out from under her and the ground hit her hard.\n\nShe pushed herself over as she was dragged back, one of her ankles in vice. She saw something that tried for the form of a man, like something out of her paintings, out of her nightmares. Eyes that were huge black pools, slick scaly skin, and dagger like teeth. \n\nAnd she kicked it in response. Her heel hit the thing in the eye and it roared in pain. Its grip loosened, so she kicked its wrist, ten again. She gained her freedom and scrambled back to her bed. She knew the horror was already recovering and moving to her as she opened the box and made a grab for the pistol inside. \n\nBreath couldn’t make it through her throat with the creature’s webbed claw around her. She kicked, but it was more of a dangle as the thing lifted her up. With one last bit of grit, she pulled the old pistol up to its head and fired.\n\nAgain and again and again.\n\nThey both dropped to the floor, the thing twitching as black ichor leaked out. Lauren struggled to breathe normally as she processed what was in front of her. She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, to wait until the world made sense again, but she knew it wouldn’t. Her father wouldn’t come and save her again.\n\nSlowly, Lauren rose up and grabbed the box. It had everything she thought he’d never need. She stuffed it in dad’s old backpack and grabbed clothes, food, supplies, and anything else she’d need. Hoisting it on her shoulders, she didn’t take a second look at her old apartment.\n\nThe lobby was flooded up to her knees and it looked as though the water was rising. She waded out to the front door and found one of the errant boats nearby, a metal one with a motor. She gave it a once-over, looking for everything her dad had taught her. She tossed her pack inside and hopped in, pulling an oar out from under the bench.\n\nDespite the chill in the air, she didn’t feel cold.\n\n“Going somewhere?” Mr. Tiller asked, “I heard you make a commotion.”\n\n“Yeah, jus-just going to look around,” she lied. \n\nHe nodded, “Just be careful.”\n\n“I will be.”\n\nHe said nothing more as she pushed off and into the water. She started the motor and headed out, her uneasiness calming within her like the surface of a pond, and the fog took her in." ]	1
	[WP] Woody, the pull string cowboy, receives a mysterious letter regarding his 'crime' of exposing toys' sentience to Sid.	[ "\"Are you okay in there Woody?\" Rex shouted up toward the top of Andy's dresser.\n\nThe sound of muffled grumbling was the only response the other toys could hear. They exchanged nervous glances. Things were still a little crazy after the move, not every toy had been put away yet. But none of them could think of a reason for a toy to go back into a box. Or, not a good reason, at least.\n\n\"Stay calm Woody! We'll send someone to rescue you!\" Rex looked around at the other toys. \"Won't we?\"\n\n\"Eh, climbing's not exactly my specialty,\" Hamm answered. \"Besides, I'm kinda enjoying the peace and quiet.\"\n\n\"Just calm down Rex,\" Slink said. \"Woody's gotten out of worse spots before. I'm sure Andy's mom but him in that box for a good reason. Right Buzz? Buzz?\"\n\nNo answer came from Buzz. The other toys searched the floor, but there was no sign of him, anywhere.\n\n\"And Buzz is missing! This is a catastrophe!\" Rex shouted.\n\n\"No he's not! Look!\" Bo Peep cried, pointing up toward Andy's bed.\n\n\"To infinity, and beyond!\" Buzz shouted. He took off at a sprint, racing across the top of Andy's bed. He reached the edge and took a flying leap, deploying his wings as he flew through the air. A perfect arc right onto the ball, which launched him toward the dresser.\n\nBuzz peaked high in the air, just high enough to see the slim white box Woody had been stuffed into. It was only big enough for one toy; Buzz had never seen anything like it. He flew closer toward the dresser, but the box started dropping out of sight. He wasn't going to make it.\n\nBuzz pinwheeled his arms, willing himself to go just a little farther. With a dull smack he hit the front of the dresser. He started to slide down, but a finger just caught the lip of one of the drawers.\n\n\"Be careful Buzz!\" Rex shouted.\n\nBuzz didn't respond. All of his concentration was diverted to keeping his grip on the edge of the dresser. He looked around him, seeing the knobs on the drawers just out of reach. There'd only be one shot at this.\n\nBuzz swung his legs twice, once to build momentum, then again to send him flying toward the handle. His hands just managed to wrap around it. With a couple more swings and leaps, he made it to the top.\n\n\"Alright, alright,\" Hamm said to the army men. \"He made it to the top. How about double or nothin' on whether Rex has an aneurysm before we hear from Woody again?\"\n\n\"You alright Woody?\" Buzz asked as he approached the white box.\n\nMore muffled shouting.\n\n\"Just hang on, I'll get this open in a second.\"\n\nBuzz moved to push the top open, but his gaze drifted over to the letter sitting on top of the dresser next to the box. Printed on toy company letter head, it read:\n\n\"Dear Sir/Madam:\n\n\"Our records indicate that you or your son or daughter are the proud owner of one of our original Woody dolls. Recent information has come to light which indicates that your Woody doll may have been painted with lead based paint during his creation, and is therefore a safety hazard. Not to worry, though, as we have included a prepaid shipping label for you to return the Woody doll in order for us to correct this defect. Please don't worry, your toy will be returned to you in safe condition as soon as practicable.\n\n\"Yours truly, The Manufacturer.\"\n\nBuzz glanced back at the box that held Woody, his heart pounding in his chest.\n\n\"What's going on up there?\" Rex shouted.\n\n\"It's a recall notice,\" Buzz answered.\n\n\"A recall!?\" Hamm shouted.\n\nThe other toys started all talking among themselves at once, trading various theories about why Woody was being recalled, and what a recall meant, exactly. Buzz tuned them out, and advanced on the box. With a little pushing and tugging, he was able to get it open.\n\nInside, Woody was wrapped in a plastic sleeve. He started flailing as soon as light hit his face.\n\n\"Why would you tell them about the recall notice?\" Woody demanded as soon as his face was free.\n\n\"This... this is bad Woody. We've got to figure a way out of this for you.\"\n\n\"I know that! But you can't just drop things like that on the others.\" Woody gestured to the panicked mob that was forming on the carpet. \"Things were just starting to settle down after the move.\"\n\nBuzz started to respond, but Woody waved him off as he climbed out of the box.\n\n\"I'll take care of it. Just wait here.\"\n\nWoody crossed over to the edge of the dresser, and looked down at the others.\n\n\"Everyone. Everyone! If I can have your attention please. I know you've all just heard the recall letter, but it's really not a big deal. Just a little thing they send out. We're working on what to do right now, but the rest of you will be fine...\"\n\n\"Woody.\"\n\n\"Oh what now Buzz! Can't you just wait for...\"\n\n\"There's another letter,\" Buzz said. He pulled a small, toy sized envelope out of the white box.\n\nWoody snatched it out of Buzz's hands and ripped it open. Another piece of paper printed on toy company letterhead.\n\n\"Dear Mr. Woody,\n\n\"You have been summoned to appear and show cause why you should not be terminated for exposing your true nature to one Sid Phillips. Your prompt attendance is expected.\n\n\"Yours truly, The Manufacturer.\"\n\nBuzz and Woody traded nervous glances.\n\n\"I've gotta get out of here,\" Woody said." ]	1
	[WP] You learn of a slain lich, finally dead after a 7 year crusade. You find his most powerful spell notes in a hidden ritual chamber. It uses emotional pain to summon demons—the lich could only summon lesser demons, apparently. Reciting the incantations, Satan touches your shoulder and smiles.	[ "A handsome stranger whose face you can’t quite place taps you on the shoulder with a wide grin. “It’s not every day that someone of your, uh…emotional caliber reads those words. The last guy seems to have been a bit, shall we say…out of touch with himself.”\n\nYou swallow hard and blink in surprised confusion, seeing as this man had seemingly come out of nowhere. “You’re, uh…you’re a demon, then?”\n\nHis grin grows wider as he nods in answer to your question. “I have many names, of course, but most know me as Satan or The Devil. But you can call me partner.”\n\nYou instinctively tighten your grip on the notes in your hands that you’d been reading from as you try to come to terms with what this man just said. I managed to summon The Devil himself? You think to yourself, having a hard time believing it. “You don’t look like Satan.”\n\nThe man’s grin drops for a second as he rolls his eyes a little. “Young one, my looks change from century to century. Of course I don’t look how people in books from thousands of years ago said I look. Did you want proof? Is my appearing suddenly behind you not good enough?”\n\nA flush rises in your face at his friendly, teasing tone before you respond to him. “I-I-I guess I just, you know…d-didn’t expect you to be so handsome.”\n\nHe seems to let out a genuine laugh as his face relaxes after your response. “I suppose that’s a fair observation. However, let’s forget about me for a moment.” He pauses to look you over and nods to himself. “From a quick assessment I can tell you’ve been through Hell, if you’ll excuse the pun. So. What exactly did you want to accomplish with me?”\n\nYou find yourself fidgeting at this question, since you hadn’t exactly expected the damn spell to work in the first place. “Well, uh…what sort of cost is there? I’m sure you aren’t just here out of the kindness of your heart.”\n\nThe Devil’s grin grows impossibly wider, almost seeming to take up his entire face. “Since you asked…!” he pulls out a contract that’s bound with what looks like some grotesque form of entrails and has to be at least 100 pages long. “You can take your time looking it over. It shouldn’t be too tough of a read.”\n\nYou suddenly find yourself in a much more comfortable setting, with a chair being pulled up behind so that you almost automatically take a seat. You take the contract with a cringe at the binding and start to flip through the pages. You were never one for terrible legal jargon but this actually seems to make sense. He’s going to take your soul, and in exchange (depending on how powerful your soul is) you get to have him at your disposal.\n\nBefore you can even ask, he hands over a fiercely sharp pen and as you begin to sign you feel a sharp pain in your hand. You look down to notice blood coming from your palm as a small, sharp needle pierces your flesh. As you sign, you swallow hard because it's definitely using your blood as ink.\n\n“Now, young one…close your eyes. This won’t hurt a bit.”\n\nHe’s not entirely wrong, but the feeling of him removing your soul isn’t exactly a comfortable one. It’s as if you’re in two places at once; simultaneously outside of your body looking at whatever he’s doing to you but also inside your body and feeling that strange pulling sensation. However, it’s blissfully short and you catch your breath after a few moments of watching him seemingly appraise the worth of what he’d just taken from you.\n\n“Well, it seems my earlier assessment was right. You’ve been through quite a bit of emotional turmoil. Which, if I’m going to be honest, makes a soul the best sort of candidate for becoming a demon,” he chuckles to himself before he flicks his wrist and your soul disappears from view. “That’s that!” he remarks brightly, before rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “What shall we do first?”\n\n“What can we do?” you ask hesitantly, surprisingly not feeling too different.\n\n“With what you just gifted to me, young one…” he gives you a warm smile “we can do whatever you want. Now, I know that’s a lot to consider, so maybe start with something small-“\n\nYou cut him off; hearing that you could do anything was all you needed to know. “Okay, Satan. Then I know what we’re doing first.” You pause for a moment, gathering your courage before looking into his eyes of dancing flame. “Let’s get the son of a bitch that killed my fiancé.”", "\"Hey, are you okay?\" asked the man behind me.\n\n\"Wh...who are you?\" I stammered. I thought I was alone here.\n\n\"That's not important, please, sit.\"\n\nAt his suggestion, I sat on a sofa behind that didn't seem like it was there before. Was that fireplace always there?\n\nHe continued, \"you look like you could use some tea,\" as he sat in his chair across from me.\n\nI barely thanked him before I noticed a mug in my hand. Earl Grey, strong, cream, three sugars. A tray on the coffee table with a tea pot and an array of snacks. I sipped the tea to clear my head.\n\n\"Where are we? We weren't here five minutes ago.\" The tea did help ground me.\n\n\"John, I want you to know you're in a safe place,\" the man replied.\n\n\"How did you know my name?\"\n\n\"John, what were you doing when we met?\"\n\n\"I was reading a summoning spell\"\n\n\"Yes, and you can probably guess what I am, right?\"\n\nHairs began to rise on my neck.\n\n\"John, remember, this is a safe space for you, and I assure you no harm will come to you. Eating something might help before we continue\"\n\nI took his advice. It did look good.\n\n\"John, summoning demons involves sacrifice. Pain, suffering, et cetera. But I'll tell you a secret that the lich here barely scratched the surface of...\"\n\nHe then appeared next to me on the couch, so he could whisper, \"all demons are inner demons.\"\n\nI backed away. \"What does that even mean?\"\n\n\"Guilt, self-loathing, shame, all these feelings are drawn upon when you tear apart some poor animal at a crossroads or sacrifice a virgin or curse a village. The worse you feel, the bigger the inner demons you fight for doing such a thing.\"\n\n\"So who are you?\"\n\n\"Let me finish, John. Let's say you can skip that step. Let's say you already hate yourself. You've got demons inside you already, it's called depression. The spell simply brings out what's already there.\"\n\n\"Please, what does that make you?\"\n\n\"John, I'm worried, because how you make it out of bed without killing yourself from the guilt you feel constantly must be overwhelming. I'm Satan, John, and we need to talk about your PTSD.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The end of the world is here. You and some buddies have built an arc and have spent the last 2 years floating it out, waiting for a safe time to return to land. Today is the day and you’re approaching shore, as you arrive cameras and crowds are waiting for you. This isn’t what you expected.	[ "\"What?\" Dan shouted up from his position at the helm.\n\n\"There's just masses of them, people everywhere! Oh my god! What if we're not the only ones left! We're not the only ones left!\"\n\nThe last two years had been spent in melancholy contemplation as the small crew felt the weight of a barren Earth press down on them. They had already resolved to have no children - fifty was nowhere near the projected thousand needed to sustain a population. They had already said their goodbyes to their friends and family; only the best and most youthful engineers were allowed to go from the team of 400 that had built this submarine. They had, most of all, faced that mortality so often kept locked away, their only hopes that similar groups might be out there and be found.\n\nBut now there might be a chance that this was all a lie. That there was a home to return to, just as there was one to leave from all that time ago. Nay, not a chance. A reality.\n\nIn a haze, Dan pulled the submarine to the shore, parked it. For the first time in two years its hull felt rays of light, rays which two years ago promised the doom of everyone. He wondered how similar this was to that one biblical tale - the one used for inspiration for the vessel's name, The Ark. He wasn't sure. As Man began to grasp further at the stars, he forgot his ancient origins. And good riddance, most thought, though a few, none of those on the ship itself, tried to remember.\n\nBut enough idle thoughts. No deity would be found here, unless the Everfire, the cruel sun was one; it was people Dan wanted, needed to see. As the Earth swooned beneath his uncertain, unaccustomed feet. Surely none of his family, no one he knew, was alive. He dared not hope. But anyone, any new, shining and happy face would be enough for him.\n\nNew faces there were, and many. But they, though hopeful, shone not. Soot covered the people, and behind the remains of decrepit, half-standing buildings were seen. Though it may have survived, mankind was not the same. As the Ark parted with its crew, among the watching crowds one whisper prevailed. The gods have returned!\n\nIndeed, in those first few months, the arc seemed like a godsend, though the rumours were put to rest. When the Flare tore through the world, it was predicted to destroy every strand of DNA and turn the oceans to vapour. In fact, the oceans survived and life did alongside it, but humanity was ill prepared. Few chose to deny the evidence as the Ark's builders did, and instead the people most capable of saving humanity spent their final days in casinos and brothels, in virtual ecstasy or in the real world quietly with their families. The ultrarich even fled to space, to live among the stars before our own star destroyed them, ironically sealing their fates.\n\nThe people here of Sancrisant, as it happened, survived by fleeing deep into lead bunkers built long ago by the United States before that ancient nation fell, and war became a forgotten legend. Still, they had no food, no water, and life was a daily struggle. Ninety percent died in those two years. The Ark alone kept mortality low, however; in its stores, food for a thousand years. Not that they ever planned to eat it, but food was practically free before the Flare.\n\nThat food would now last five years, but five years was enough to start a society, a small one, but a self-sufficient one. Farms could be lit by the submarine's nuclear reactor; the sun would not tolerate growth anymore. Water could be desalinated in mass quantities, health machines kept in operation for the unfortunate and the needy, education necessary to keep the city running secured for young and old alike.\n\nBut there was something wrong. Dan lived like a king, and through his efforts and the efforts of many others, everyone did. But it could not last.\n\nDid we really think we could win? Dan asked himself, as he watched the plants wilt and wither in yet another greenhouse. From green to charcoal black in less than an hour. The power was limited, though vast, and as the temperatures kept climbing, the demands for cooling were exponentially increasing.\n\nSoon, there would be more death. Food was scarce enough a year ago. Almost as scarce as it was before the Flare. They had tried so hard to keep their Earth, keep it healthy and alive. But they had failed. There was no way to turn the oceans of the past back into water. No way to heal the chloroplasts of three decades ago and return to balance. The end looked to be bleak, and it was this time really inevitable.\n\nNature, of course, didn't care. The earth was never designed for humanity. Why should it slow its change, if they could not keep up?", "The boat (it really was a stretch to call it an ark, no matter what Jack claimed) gently rocked on the waves. It was a sensation I had gotten quite used to and I looked forward to how weird it would feel to walk on solid, stationary ground again. Ellie, one of the two cows we brought with us on board, stood near the edge, an imperious air around her as she surveyed the gentle ocean. Jack and Dan were both in the lower deck, checking last minute items. It's quite surprising how much things can scatter even on a small boat if you give them two years.\n\nI looked out towards the mountain in the distance, drawing closer at a gradual pace. Behind me, George, the donkey, slept against a barrel of milk. The milk had probably gone bad, none of us liked milk. Poor Ellie. Ah well, what am I even thinking of, it's the big day! We're finally gonna get off this boat and start rebuilding! Though how we were going to repopulate was something we'd avoided discussing.\n\nAs the sun started dipping into the ocean, I could see its rays being reflected off of multiple surfaces on the shore. Maybe a few cars were parked there? Maybe this island had never been submerged? I'd find out soon I guess.\n\nThe sound of an opening door behind me announced the arrival of Jack and Dan. I turned around. \"Well boys, we're fina-\".\n\n\"-Are those people?\" asked Dan. He was staring at the approaching landmass with a dumbfounded look on his face.\n\n\"What?\" I said as I turned around. Surely Dan was tripping. I squinted, but only saw the reflections from before. Were they moving?\n\nDan moved closer to the railing. \"Those are definitely people,\" he said. Jack came over to my other side as well. All three of us tried to make out the shapes on the shore.\n\n\"What the Hell,\" said Jack.\n\n\"What, what am I missing,\" I asked.\n\n\"Look!\" said Dan. \"Look at the multitude of colors moving about, definitely clothes. Are those mirrors that they're pointing at us?\"\n\nI looked harder, and I realized what my mind had first passed off as flowers swaying in the wind was actually something bigger, and it moved too much to be just some pretty plants.\n\nThe three of us stood in silence, waiting to get closer to the island before passing our final judgment.\n\nAs we got nearer, the sky rapidly darkening now, we started hearing what was unmistakably the din of a crowd. Not only that, but there were lights coming on all along the coastline.\n\n\"What, the fuck, is going on here,\" said Jack, echoing the thoughts of all three of us.\n\nThe boat finally finally got near enough. It was people. It was God damned people. And loads of them. And cars, working cars, news vans, camera crews, everything. \n\n\"That's a load of cameras,\" Dan said. \"Are we on TV?\"\n\nThe boat lurched in a sudden wave and hit the shore. We grasped the railing as Ellie backed off and George woke up with a loud noise.\n\n\"What crossed your mind when you saw us gathered here?\" \n\"What was life like out as sea for two years?\" \n\"Excuse me! Excuse me! How many animals are on your boat? Who got to be Noah?\"\n\nSo many questions. We descended the boat, mouths hanging open and eyes round as coins. Some of the spectators were laughing, others shaking their heads in pity. A team of doctors and scientists made their way towards us through the crowd.\n\n\"Congratulations boys,\" said a particularly attractive woman in a lab coat. \"You've provided us with valuable insight into how a group of young men are going to behave when they think they're the last people on Earth. Now if you could just come with us to the hospital so we can make sure you're alright.\"\n\n\"Excuse me what the fuck,\" I spoke out loud. \"What about the flood? Why are you all so normal? What happened?\"\n\nThe woman gave a small smile as many people started chuckling. \"Oh dearie, there was never any flood.\"\n\nDan's and Jack's faces mirrored what I felt.\n\n\"You have a lot of explaining to do lady, and I expect compensation!\" I was angry, furious! And worst of all, I felt so lost and confused.\n\nAnother scientist, a middle-aged man, put a hand on my shoulder. \"You'll get compensated son, don't worry. Now, come along. And bring your good friends too. I suspect the media's just dying to get their hands on you.\"" ]	2
	[WP] A political party lead by an Actual Penguin manages to win every seat in the house, but with only 50.1% of the popular vote. Society is divided, especially when the new premier moves to pass their first law...	[ "Everyone waited with bated breath as the leader of the Actual Penguin party waddled up to the podium. His first speech as leader of the Actual Penguin party and by extension, the House of Law, was seconds away from being delivered. Would he try to heal the wounds that such a divisive election caused, or would he decide that deepening the divide would serve him better.\n\nOne second passed. Then two. The leader strained his neck so that he could reach the microphone. Even with the custom podium built to accommodate his height gave him trouble. The silence was deafening.\n\nThen he opened his mouth, and spoke.\n\n> __QUACK__\n\nThe audience stood in silence for a moment, then they began to riot as they came to realize that the charismatic leaders that half of them voted for were nothing more than penguins in suits. The country was devastated. The riots were one thing, but the country's lawmakers were all penguins. They couldn't be impeached and all they did was poop all over the government buildings they were supposed to be working in. No aid was dispensed and eventually the country crumbled under the weight of its new avian government.", "“I Mayor Oswald Cobblepot, am here today to pass a law that will make vigilantism illegal and provide benefits to oppressed groups such as Falcone employees, so-called “mad scientists,” and the mentally ill. \n\n“For too long this city has had these minorities under the grip of terror induced by these Bat and Bird-themed ruffians, and I am sorry to say that they have been aided and abetted by the Gotham City Police Department. No more. \n\n“From now on, poor, tortured, insane souls will not be beat into a pulp by a winged freak, and men in suits can conduct business at the docks without the headlights of a rodent-themed car blaring on them.\n\n“To aid in these changes, I have contracted the services of Mr. Hugo Strange, who has perfected his “monster men” serum to avoid the unfortunate side effects associated with the procedure. We will send a team of trained professionals aided by this treatment to deal with any upstart vigilantes, and GCPD intervention will be forbidden in these situations.\n\n“Good day, citizens. And may Gotham City return to its glory!”" ]	2
	[WP] It took a long time for earth to get a seat on the galactic council but since the first human senator joined human influence has had a meteoric rise. Aparently humans are the only species in the galaxy that learned how to lie.	[ "Growing up in a mixed species school there was one rule more important than any other, do not reveal our secret. Humanity as a whole has something we keep hidden, we can say things evan though we know they aren't true we call this lying. There have been countless people before me who have tried to reveal this secret to the rest of the galaxy but the government has been vigelent in stoping this. All contact with the zerg, zem, and glorbs is heavely monitered by an advanced allgorithem and any people who leave earth are followed by bug sized drones. Why do we do this? Because lying is the basis of our economy. If we need more money we simply tell another government that we will pay it back with intrest, then a few mounths later tell them that we have allready paid them back but they just don't remeber. This strategy has led to us living in an uter utopia where no one works becuase no one has to (exept for the occassion youtuber or pop star). This may give some context as to why I, a twelve year old, will be rotting in jail for the rest of my life due to what I did in third grade. I was a teacher pet and so when bill told our teacher mrs xewaq (who is a glorb) that he actually didnt get an F in the class and in fact got an A I had to do something. And so I told her \"Thats not true he's lying\" she then said \"What are you talking about Jeff\" \"It means he said something he knew wasn't true, all humans do it. Its not actually true that the average iq of a human is 210 and its not true that earth has been paying off its dept\" She shortly afterward reported this fact to the GSS (Glorb Scientific Society) and our secret was out. Earths economy colapsed and billions starved and I will never again leave this prision cell." ]	1
	[WP] For the first time ever, Reddit Mods are being evaluated for their civility and lack of bias. Their judges? Ironically, a panel of users that they've banned.	[ "\"funny isn't it\" i say to the ask reddit mod that banned me 56 days ago \n\"what is lol, you still banned\" he says with a :/ thing as if he is still in charge \n\"fool, i am now more powerful than you could possibly imagine\" a smile was arising on my face as i type the letters, \nanother mod chimes in \"harassing the moderators ca get you banned from reddit altogether so i'd watch it there bud,\" they still have no clue\nthe news had literally just came out so i don't blame them, though you'd think they're read up on their powers before responding..\n\"have you no idea? i own you now, you bow to me lest i smite you as the scum of the earth you are\" the power filled me\n\"what? no, this can't be happening\" as i read this i remember how silly the reason that i was banned was, 'impersonating an automod' or something. instant ban apparently. \ni suppose they read the news finally, he says \"please, is there anything we can do? would gold change your mind?\" little did he know i was now more powerful than any redditor had been before considering i was banned from one of the top subs and the devs now had my back realizing how stupid the reason was\nanother one pleads for his life \"please, anything\"\nover joyed and power driven, i say what needs to be said\n\n\"perish\"" ]	1
	[WP] You have the ability to see a person's 'profile' which appears as an overlay that displays a person's name, age, occupation (future occupation if student), etc. As a joke, while you were in class, you check a person's profile and find out that their future occupation is 'overlord'.	[ "The problem with really being psychic is that everyone knows you’re a fraud. How do I know that you’re a lawyer? Something about the cut of your suit. How do I know you’re 42? The gray in your hair is and the length of the wrinkles around your eyes. How do I know your name? I overheard someone say it.\n\nAfter a while, I decided it was a pretty benign powers powers went. Sure, I can always make some extra cash making bets with people on the street. I never “forgot” an acquaintance’s name. And I knew the networking would be easier when I was out of school if I could tell at a glance who was worth talking to.\n\nBeing a psychic, I decided, was convenient but not life-changing. \n\nThen I took political science 202. \n\nThere was a kid sitting right up front. Jonathan Powell. Freshman. 7-Eleven cashier. Future Overlord. \n\nI wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but I was in Treat. I kept an ion him during classes. I’ve never seen anyone so studiously taking notes. Nor anybody who seem to have so little use for them. Our classmates didn’t like him very much. His unofficial nickname was“Insufferable Striver Douche.” But he didn’t care what they thought. He was more interested in playing the professor like a fiddle. \n\nTo be honest, if it wasn’t for my gift I probably would have ignored the kid just as much as possible, just like the rest of my classmates.\n\nBut I knew he was the future Overlord. I could see he needed a friend. And being the future Overlord’s best friend seemed like a pretty good plan. \n\nIt wasn’t too hard to get on his good side. If a classmate challenged his perspective on an issue, I jumped in to back him up. When he missed a week sick I made sure to take the best notes of my life and pass them on. \n\n\nWhen the professor told us with the final project of the semester was going to be, I knew it was just what I needed. We were going to get divided up into groups and assigned a fictional country to manage in a sort of of model-UN-on-steroids simulation. \n\nAs luck would have it, I was on his team. I figure that the professor liked him well enough to make sure that he got paired up with his only friend in the class. Rounding out our group wee a couple of the quieter students, a guy and a gal who never said much of anything when they were called on. \n\nClaire’s future job was “economic analyst.” Greg’s was “ public relations.“ we all became fast friends.\n\nJon was full of ideas about how to play our classmates off of each other. Ideas about how to game the rules to get a leg up—which Claire Always did an excellent job of running the numbers on.\n\nI may try to make myself indispensable. Whenever a group needed to write a paper put together a presentation, I volunteered to do the legwork. And I worked harder on those assignments than I had worked on anything ever before.\n\nGreg and it up being the pitch man. Giving an excellent presentation about the merits of “Komercistan.” He had the rest of the class falling over themselves to line up on our side of the game.\n\nIn the end, we won. We won big. A’s all around. \n\nWe didn’t stop planning.\n\nThat was 10 years ago. John and I just graduated from Harvard law. He was summa cum laude, of course. I made sure to follow right on his heels with magna. He has a Supreme Court clerkship lined up. I’m taking a job with the DOJ. Claire is working on an economics PhD at Georgetown, and Greg is already working for the White House Press Secretary. \n\nSo far, we are all on schedule.\n\n", "- Excerpt from \"Dynamics Of Power\", by H.R. Zagarian \n\nMy ability at first seemed so frivolous and unimportant to me. What power was it to reveal the vagueries of normal people's lives? Of what significance are the details of insignificant people - or the import of their insignificant futures? \n\nI toyed with my ability for many years, always in childish and often foolish ways. I would reveal to my schoolmates their future occupations and watch as their teenage faces crinkled in distaste. I would play parlor games, 'guessing' people's favorite foods or the dates of their birth. As a result I became quite popular at parties and with the girls, and not much else. \n\nIt was only by sheer chance that the true portent of my strange power revealed itself to me. \n\nNathaniel was a quiet young man when I first met him. He sat behind me in our life sciences class, taught by the unforgettable Mr. Magie, a white haired dynamo with a penchant for lighting things on fire over bunsen burners. \n\nAt this point in time I made it a habit to use my power on every new person I encountered. Nathaniel appeared in class in the middle of the school year. His mother had moved from Salt Lake City in an effort to escape Nathaniel's abusive father. The effort was doomed to tragic failure, although the hammer blow would not strike for several years more.\n\nI remember the moment his truth was revealed to me as if it were yesterday. I idly pulled up his details as Mr. Magie expounded upon the complexities of ester production. As I skimmed through Nathaniel's information, I came eventually to his future occupation and was struck by its bold simplicity. \n\n\"Overlord.\"\n\nOverlord. Needless to say, this was not my normal finding. Plumber, teacher, police officer - these were the things most people were destined to become. I had encountered some outliers - derelict or deceased, for instance - but Overlord was entirely unique. \n\nI puzzled over it for some time, lost in thought, until I realized Nathaniel was watching me stare at the empty space over his head. Abashed, I turned away, a chill running up my spine, uncertain what to do with this strange omen.\n\nI ruminated on the discovery for several weeks. Overlord has several meanings, none particularly nuanced and none so aberrant as to reduce the import of the word. I decided to take the title at face value. This young man, this boy, was destined to rule others. He would, if my power was to be trusted, become a leader. \n\nBut what sort of leader? Not a President, or Prime Minister, but an Overlord. The word bore a certain severity of rule harkening back to history books and ancient stories. What, I wondered, would a modern Overlord even look like? \n\nOf course, I considered my choices. I believed I could, if I willed it, change the course of history. Whatever ruler Nathaniel would be, I thought I had the power to prevent his rule outright. What ought I to do?\n\nThe answer to that question came from my power as well.\n\nUp to that point in time I had made a tacit agreement with myself. I would use the power of knowledge on others freely, but I refused to use it on myself. At the time, it seemed to me a curse to know my own future. In truth, I was afraid. What if I was to become an insignificant thing - or worse still, what if my occupation read simply \"deceased\"? Although I was curious about my future, for years curiousity was outweighed by fear. \n\nBut now, with the momentous implications of Nathaniel's future on my mind - contemplating an invidious assassination - I needed to know. What would be the outcome for me? \n\nIf I killed Nathaniel, I guessed, if that was my fate, then I would be jailed, perhaps put to death. My life would be forfeit, for many years at least. Wouldn't that be implied by my future occupation, whatever it was? \n\nUltimately I sought an answer to my present by looking into my own future. The answer I found there has guided my life, and, I believe, the fate of the world. \n\nAs I stood there in the halogen glare of the school bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, I felt the weight of destiny on my shoulders. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my hands quivered in fear as I called up my own information. \n\nIt took a moment to decipher my occupation, seeing it as I did, flipped in the mirror. I sounded it out and stood there in awe. I would not feel such a thrill again until decades later, when Nathaniel bestowed the title upon me at the Grand Palace.\n\nEvery good citizen now knows well enough what that occupation was - as do the many fallen enemies of the state. \n\nEven back then, a mere child standing in a municipal bathroom between classes, I spoke the words with intuitive reverence:\n\n\"The Overlord's Eye\"\n\n******\n\n#### For More Legenda From The Multiverse\n\n## r/LFTM\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] It's all over. The elder gods have arisen and are laying waste to all existence. Anyway, you've got work in the morning, and you need them to keep it down so you can sleep.	[ "It was on a Tuesday that the apocalypse started. All around the Earth, the skies darkened and clouds roiled with a furious intensity. Lightening crashed and thunder roared as the Elder Gods began pouring out of the sky. Tentacle laden monstrosities followed by amorphous blobs and bat-winged creatures fueled by the need to destroy hurtled toward the ground. Ancient and horrible beings fell to Earth that day looking to claim it as their own once again.\n\nA handful of people knew this was coming, had been preparing for it, were wishing for it in fact. They hoped that in helping the ancient beings reclaim Earth that they would be treated as equals in the new world. These people had cast spells from rotting tomes and sacrificed lives to open the gates in the skies. They cheered as the abominations began their rampage on modern society. It was all very loud.\n\nJohn had to be at work at 4:30 in the morning and really didn’t like to miss out on sleep. It was his favorite activity outside of video games. He got grumpy when he missed out on sleep. As the eldritch horrors tore through the city, leveling building after building, John became quite agitated. Huffing as he stood up, John walked to his window and opened it. “Shut up for Christ’s sake! Some people have to be up early you know!” he bellowed.\n\nA block away, a 4 story tall beast heard Johns plea for peace and quiet. He was not so intent on giving anyone peace today. A lumbering entity that appeared to be an amalgamation of fused together animal carcasses completely covered in a dark purple fur turned and began walking toward John. Each step cracked the street and shook buildings. The closer that the monstrosity got, the more Johns apartment rattled. The closer the monster got, the madder it made John. He was beginning to think he would have to do something about this ordeal himself. With great reluctance, John rose from his bed and walked to the window again.\n\nThe elephantine demon reached Johns building and roared with shattering intensity. Every window in a 1 block radius exploded sending shards of glass everywhere. John stood at his window defiantly. “Listen here, I have to be up for work in a few hours and I would really appreciate it if you and your friends would keep it down. If not, I’m going to have to do something about it.” John said, trying to remain as calm as possible. The beast leaned in close to Johns window, unfurled its gigantic wings and growled deeply. John had had enough. With a huff, he clenched his fist and said “Alright then, let’s do it your way.” John took a step back and smiled. He loved fighting, feeling his enemies bones crushing under his knuckles. John shot toward the window and leaped out. He slammed his fist into the head of the beast with shattering force. Or so he though.\n\nAs it turns out, John was not dreaming as he thought he was. John did not have super strength and amazing fighting skills, John was an accountant that hadn’t been to the gym in almost a decade. As his fist lightly tapped the creatures face, the only thought to cross Johns mind was “Wait, what?” The Elder God raised one of its six arms and grabbed on to Johns pajamas. With a roar it threw John almost a mile away, his body smashed through a brick wall instantly killing him.\n\nJohn, not surprisingly, never made it to work. The Elder Gods retook the planet and provided a space for the cult leaders to rule over the rest of humanity as they saw fit. Johns attempted heroics were never remembered. Funnily enough, had John ran like the rest of the people in his building he would have lived. Not only that, but a series of events leading to the destruction of the Elder Gods would have unfolded. He would have inadvertently inspired a rebellion by spilling a bowl of soup on the right person. The rebellion would have stolen a certain grimoire and cast the Elder Gods back into oblivion for at least a few millennia. Unfortunately for everyone, John went and got himself killed.", "The world outside my window was...interesting, to say the least. Indescribably horrors descended upon the city, gnashing teeth of shadow and endless tentacle wings flailing about, driving all who saw them mad.\n\nAnd I just wanted to sleep. I had a headache from playing the new Mario Party all night, I had work in 4 hours, and my whole body was exhausted. It didn't even occur to my addled, sleep-deprived brain that the odds of my workplace standing after this fiasco were slim to none. All I could think about was all that damn noise, and I needed sleep. And with the elder gods running amok, there was only one think I could think to do: call in a favor.\n\nDeep in the basement of my house, behind a secret wall that doesn't even exist, there is a flute. Well, I call it that, but it's really more of a wind instrument that barely conforms to the euclidean geometry of our world. Of all the flutes to keep it contained, this is the only one that can exist on Earth without destroying the world. It was a gift, forged from nothingness for me when I made my first friend years ago. I took it from its hiding place, and climbed to the upper balcony of my house, my augmented sanity straining against the visage of the gods terrorizing the city. Taking the object in hand, I blew in, and an impossible melody began to play.\n\nThe gods trembled, turning their collective gaze to me in shock. There was no stopping what I had just done, even as they studied me and the instrument I shouldn't have, so I closed my eyes and waited.\n\nWhere are you, old friend?\n(Continued)" ]	2
	[WP] The vampire hunter laughed as the once great vampire lord stumbled around, slurring his speach to high hell. He knew feeding him the blood of an alcoholic would be funny, just not this much.	[ "\"Hey, buddy, you okay?\" asked the vampire hunter, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mirth as he watched the 'noble' vampire stumble towards him with as much grace as one would expect from a drunkard. \"You're looking a little pale... Well, paler than usual, if that's even possible.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Whaad'ya do to me...\" the vampire slurred as he realized the futility of trying to catch the hunter. Slumping to the ground, his form the very definition of defeat, his face suddenly morphed into one of sadness. \"Shtupi-\" the vampire paused, the sadness of his face suddenly transformed into one of anger. \"SHTUPID... SHLAYER...AGH\" the vampire screamed in rage and pulled his cape over his body, covering himself.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe hunter's triumphant face fell as he looked in confusion at the pitiful creature that was before him. Seeing the vampire lord so weak, so... stupid, had been endlessly amusing for the experienced hunter. For about 5 minutes, he'd done nothing but laugh in the vampire's face as he easily dodged the vampire's sloppy attempts at an attack, but now it was just... Sad. He was honestly starting to feel sorry for the vampire.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Asphodel...\" began the slayer, crouching down so that his face was now level with the vampire, \"What's wrong?\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Ish mah teef,\" came the muffled voice of the vampire \"Fhey alwaysh too lon'! ALWAYSH!\". That was when the slayer started to hear an odd choking noise, a sound which the slayer realized was the vampire crying. Smiling sadly, the vampire hunter got up and walked towards the slouched form of the vampire.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Wanna talk about it?\" smiled the vampire hunter in an odd display of sympathy, surprising even himself. The vampire pulled back the cloak, revealing a pale face glistening with tears, and nodded, a small genuine smile forming on his thin lips.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAnd talk they did, vampire and hunter, smiling, laughing enjoying each other's company like two of the oldest friends. Eventually, the hunter brought out a small flask filled with the strongest alcohol and quickly joined the vampire in a state of insobriety, collapsing on the floor next to his newest friend and giggling like a young child. When it reached the early hours of the morning, however, their mood turned into a more sombre one as the two got more and more tired. The hunter turned to the vampire, a burning question at the tip of his tongue.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"So, Aspy, why do you them?\" he eventually asked, his half-lidded eyes threatening to slam shut at any moment.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Eat who?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"People, dummy!\" silently giggled the vampire hunter.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I have to! I'd die! Every time I try to strike a deal with anyone, they just run me out with pitchforks and broken chair legs! You'd think people's narrow-mindedness would have stopped after almost a millennia of trying to communicate, but no!\" whined the vampire, having long since regained the ability to speak through his teeth. \"Then people like you always come along, and I'm forced to defend myself!\". The hunter suddenly had an idea, his eyes widening as he looked at his friend.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Say,\" started the vampire hunter \"What if I spoke to them for you? I could probably work something out, hunters are well respected after all.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You...\" the vampire almost seemed to be holding back tears, \"You'd do that? For me?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Sure!\" beamed the hunter, groggily pulling himself off the floor as he made way to the door. \"In fact, I'll do it right now!\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe bleary-eyed hunter opened the door to the castle, looking back at the vampire. \"See'ya around friend, I'll see if I can sort out regular shipments of cattle to your castle. Shouldn't be too hard.\" the hunter nodded once more before shuffling out of the door, closing it behind him with a weak bang. The vampire, now by himself, allowed a sincere smile on his face, what had started out as being one of the most humiliating nights of his life had turned into one of the best ones. No one, in all of his centuries of existence, had given him life's simplest gift: a friend.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\-------------------\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFirst post on writing prompts, sorry if it's absolutely terrible >.<.", "\"Fuck...,\" Drazika had difficulty getting the words out, \"...you.\"\n\nRoland tried to contain his laughter, which threatened to bubble over into a rapturous, defenseless state of elation. He stared pointedly down at his feet to avoid looking at the vampire, who had been completely stripped of his noble air and was now wallowing in despair at his stolen dignity.\n\n\"I have..\" the vampire concentrated on a spot on the far side of the chamber, swaying back and forth as he did so, \"I have managed to go three decades without... hic...\" a violent spattering of hiccups punctuated his attempt at stringing a sentence together. The immortal bent over and with a sigh consigned himself to roll with the turbulent pockets of air rising through his throat.\n\nThe two stood directly across from each-other for some time, hunter and hunted. Neither spoke, both instead trying to keep their bodies under control. The vampire lord continued to sway and the bounty hunter continued to intermittently lurch with barely contained mirth.\n\nEventually, Drazika felt ready to continue, \"Three decades I have managed to stay away from this human poison,\" he paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not to share, then he said, \"Remarkably Alcoholics Anonymous saved me.\"\n\nAt this the bounty hunter let out a rapturous cackle and dropped to the floor clutching his sides, overcome with giggles that looked out of place coming from such a grizzled, scarred man. Evidently image of the vampire sitting in a sharing circle and earnestly discussing his alcohol addiction with people who were effectively his prey, was too much to take. Too absurd.\n\nThe vampire, still swaying and trying not to fall himself, ignored the laughter and said, \"I didn't care for all the Jesus stuff... he is a total asshole... hic... and is totally misrepresented in the bible, by the way.\" The bounty hunter let out a groan on the floor, clutch his sides to try and stem the pain. Drazika continued, \"The old testament is far closer to the truth about all that shit, god and servitude and the like... hic, gaahhhhhhh!,\" the vampire lord screamed in frustration, \"This feeling. This lack of control,\" he looked directly at the writhing human on the floor of his chamber, \"I despise it. It brings back too many memories of my misspent youth.\"\n\nThe bounty hunter became suddenly aware of his defenseless position on the ground directly in-front of an apex predator and made a herculean effort to rise to his two feet. With much effort he eventually stood upright, his hand firmly placed on his belt, ready to draw his silver stake at the slightest provocation.\n\nDrazika thought about striking but his vision blurred and suddenly the bounty hunter separated into two. The vampire took one step forward and then collapsed in on himself, groaning. He became a bat which flopped about on the floor for a while, unable to get his wings to work the right way. Being a bat didn't remove the hammering in his skull.\n\nThe bounty hunter looked down at the flopping bat and let out a long low whistle, \"This is way better than I expected,\" he stole a glance at the corner of the room where a bloodied corpse lay. He had found the man face down in the gutter outside a bar this morning, obviously saturated to the gills with vodka. The perfect bait, less because he was drunk and more because the bounty hunter didn't care or not if he survived.\n\nSuddenly the vampire transformed back into his human form and now lay splayed on the floor in all of his pale white glory.\n\nThe bounty hunter removed the stake from his belt, the silver metal keening against its scabbard. The veteran killer took two steps towards the vampire, bent, and plunged the stake into the being's heart. He watched as the metal seared the vampires skin, the burn growing steadily outwards until it enveloped the immortal in a white, hot fire. A few moments past and then the stake clinked to the floor with a metallic tang, the vampire nothing more than a pile of ashes in a rough human shape on the floor. The bounty hunter bent down and picked it up the stake, noting that it was cool to the touch.\n\nHe stood up and straightened his clothes, now somber. He looked around at the dark chamber and again at the corpse in the corner and spoke out loud to no-one in particular, \"I'm going to find a crate of absinthe, then go make friends with some hobos.\"" ]	2
	[WP] A young man finds a pregnant warrior in the midst of a raging blizzard. While helping the woman deliver her baby, he finds out that she took part in the destruction of his village. Now he has a decision to make...	[ "Everyone in my village is dead because of her, and I desperately want revenge, but this child is innocent.\n\n\"Is it a boy or a girl?\"\n\nShe sounded exhausted, barely able to speak, but I answered\n\n\"It's a boy\"\n\nHanding her the newborn I began weighing my options and thinking through everything, trying to find a perfect plan for revenge. She's commited genocide, used dark magic to destroy my village, and I must kill her, but I must wait until the child can eat vegetables and meats before I kill her, but I can't wait to long or he'll potentially remember her.\n\nAfter two months I managed to get her down by a river\n\n\"Why did you want me here?\"\n\n\"I wanted to show you the fish, look. Beautiful, aren't they?\"\n\n\"Yes, they ar--\"\n\nMy dagger pierced through her lower ribs\n\n\"Remember me? I'm the man in the village you destroyed, I was spared because I was out chopping wood, and when I came back my home was nothing but ashes and embers. Your child will be raised by me, into a decent man, and I will make sure he knows what kind of person you were\"\n\nAs I pulled out my dagger I pushed her in the river.\n\n\"Please... Don't do this...\"\n\nSince she was still talking I picked up a rock and began bashing her head. Once satisfied I sent her corpse down the river. Now I simply must raise a child, and make him into a hero, something his mother never was", "The sound of crying baby pulls Erjhe back from his thought. He readied himself and walks to the tent with a smile. Inside, he was greeted by the sight of two woman congratulating another woman in the center who is holding a baby on her arms. She looks weak and exhausted, her expression betrays the muscle tone of her body, yet face is even more beautiful with the smile. Erjhe remembers when he found her near their settlement in the mountain amidst the unforgiving blizzard, she was pregnant and was holding back her delivery desperately. Left alone, he knows the baby would die from the cold, so he did what others in the settlement would do too in his stead.\n\n\"How are you feeling mam?\" asked Erjhe.\n\n\"Tired but I am good, I can't thank you enough for saving me and my baby.\"\n\n\"Think nothing of it, if I may ask though, what were you doing in the middle of this snowy mountain?\"\n\n\"Ah I haven't introduce myself have I? I am Vinaria, General of the Canberozz kingdom as well as the bodyguard and fiancee of second prince Juman. We were thinking of crossing the mountain to reaches Hollum, but those damnable Grimson Folds cult ambush us. I was pregnant and was forbidden from fighting so I run to protect the baby and before I knew it I am here.\"\n\nThe warrior lady answered with a sneer of anger so obvious to all. The name Grimson Folds is a name known to most as a group of warriors and mages that serve their leader, Erick Grimson. Most of them would travel the world to kill or harm anybody that is considered threatening to Erick. He would plot to assassinate many people across the world to assure his power. The reason Vinaria called them a cult is due to their undying loyalty towards Erick, who they consider as god and worship him. Nobody knows how Erick looks like, nobody has actually seen Erick in person, nobody even knows where they are based at. Even so, the name Grimson Folds is surely to alert anybody who knows them, but what caught Erjhe's interest is not the Grimson Folds themselves.\n\n\"You are... A Knight from the Canberozz kingdom?\" Asked Suhli, Erjhe's sister who helped the delivery.\n\n\"Yes, please let me stay here for a while and I'll be on my way. Worry not though, I'll make sure all of you are rewarded properly for saving the prince's son.\"\n\nErjhe, Suhli, and the other lady nods happily and they exit the tent to allow Vinaria time with her baby. Once outside, Suhli tucks on Erjhe's sleeve and Erjhe looks down to his sister. Her once a beautiful pair of obsidian eyes is now replaced pitch black pupils that rival the darkness of the abyss itself. She looks up at him unblinking as if trying to suck up his soul for a few seconds, Erjhe simply ruffle her hair and went to another tent... Leaving behind a crying Suhli whose face is decorated by a grin so wide it almost reaches her ears.\n\nNight passed and another day has come, Vinaria was beyond happy, not only she can give birth in the middle of a snowstorm, the people who saved her are very welcoming. She feels truly blessed. She did wonder what are they doing in the middle of the blizzard themselves, perhaps she should ask them later. \n\nWhen she open her eyes, a raging light from the sun pierce her eye. She tried to block the sun with her hands but find herself unable to. Looking around, she notice she is laying on the street with her hands and foots tied tightly to 4 different poles to prevent her from moving. \n\n\"Wha...What is the meaning of this? Release-\"\n\nShe was cut off by the feeling of weight on her stomach. Looking up, she find the same lady from yesterday, who were helping her with the delivery with Suhli is now stomping angrily at her stomach. Yesterday's eyes were generous and kind, and today full of disgust and resentment. Soon enough, other women starts to join her and attack Vinaria. Some punch her face, some kick her breast, some kick her stomach, some punch her abdomen. They all calls her myriad of derogatory names to Vinaria's confusion. Why would the same people who saved her now treat her like this? Don't they know that they could get sentenced to death for attacking her?\n\n\"S..Stop! Why do you harm me so?!!\"\n\n\"Oh lady knight, you are awake!\"\n\nThe women stops their assault and look towards the source of the voice, Vinaria do the same and saw Erjhe and Suhli with a group of men following them behind. This is a settlement not a village, therefore only few were here, in total there are eleven women and eight men here. Normally Vinaria wouldn't be worried, but with her being tied to the ground, weak from delivery, further weakened by the women hitting her, she is certainly worried to see Erjhe coming to her with a smile and a group of eight men behind him. She is even more worried when she saw that Suhli is now holding her sleeping baby.\n\n\"You must be wondering what is happening here, correct? Let me explain, remember about four years ago, a war breaks out between Canberozz kingdom and Oltella Kingdom that last for about a year correct? I am pretty sure you take part of the war. The place where you both enact your war was on the plains of Gordre right? You see, near the plain was a small village...OUR Village...\"\n\nVinaria widen her eyes, she realizes now that she will not leave this place unharmed, if she can leave that is. She knows what are their eyes, she saw it herself numerous time, the eyes full of bloodlust. Vinaria began to panic and struggles to escape the bind, unfortunately she is still weak from the delivery and she didn't have breakfast, which makes her incredibly weak.\n\nSuhli approaches her slowly and then kick her head as hard as she can. Vinaria didn't feel much pain from that, the girl is far weaker than her and she had been hit much harder and survive, that girl's strength is not going to hurt her anytime soon. Yet the girl cares not and continue to kicks Vinaria's head like a ball.\n\n\"Our father was the chief of said village, some soldiers from both kingdoms would come and demand us to give them food and shelter or they will kill us and our family. We were weak and short in numbers so we have no choice but to give them what they want. But when the soldiers from both kingdom meet each other in our village, they start to fight. They tore apart our home, kill our people who have nothing to do with the war and eats and drinks our supplies. AND WHAT DO WE GET IN COMPENSATION? NOTHING!!! BOTH OF YOU FORGET ABOUT US AS SOON AS THE WAR WAS OVER. WE NEED TO ABANDON OUR HOME AND NO OTHER VILLAGES WANT TO ACCEPT US! MY FATHER DIED BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPID WAR! AND MY MOTHER COMMIT SUICIDE AFTER HE DIED! DIE, SUFFER, BITCH, WHORE, SLUT!\"\n\nThe sound of a crying baby can be heard, jolted awake from Suhli's shout. The girl never stops kicking Vinaria's head even though it did more damage to her feet than to Vinaria. Suhli and some other women cries uncontrollably, within few seconds Vinaria found herself once again turns into a sandbag for various women in the settlement. They didn't stop even after Vinaria cough up blood, in fact they accelerate their assault, seemingly enjoying her suffering.\n\n\"Stop, if you stop now I am willing to overlook this and I swore the kingdom will compensate all of you!\"\n\nErjhe step closer to the Knightess, he grab a handful of her hair and pull her head closely to his face. Vinaria saw that, unlike the others, Erjhe's eye is not filled with hatred or bloodlust. Rather they are filled with twisted happiness born out of sorrow and suffering. With a horrifying grin, he spoke with a voice thats contradict the gentle voice he gave her yesterday.\n\n\"Oh there is no need for that, its too late at this point. You bringing your child here is already a blessing in its own, imagine what would happen if we grow him to hate your kingdom? imagine how beautiful it is if he ends up killing his uncle who is the ruler of your kingdom? imagine the novelty of a royalty destroying his own birthright? Don't you think its an exciting future?\"\n\nHearing that, it was Vinaria's turn to rage in anger. This people intend to not only steal her baby but also to make him their slave, their weapon, to kill his own family. \n\n\"You fucking bastard! You won't get away with this all of you will be killed, I'll make sure of that you hear me!\"\n\nIrritated by her scream, Suhli kicks her stomach. Perhaps it was because she has just given birth, but her stomach has been very weak, so much that she keep vomiting blood whenever something hit it. Erhje bash Vineria's head to the ground, and wipe her blood on his face with his hand. He licked her blood and starts to grin, looking at Vineria with the eye of a predator.\n\n\"Well, you at least taste not bad. We'll be thanking you too for the food\"\n\nVineria question what does he mean by food, she was soon answered by the eight men approaching her with their hatchet. Her scream is the song that fills the feast that night.", ".... I never thought that it would be such a difficult choice, to help someone in dire need. Before her child had even started to come out, she told me who she was. I considered killing her right then and there, but.... something had compelled me to spare the orc woman. It wasn't too difficult of a delivery, though I'd be lying to say that I wasn't experienced in helping women give birth. Granted, they weren't her kind, but..... Well, it doesn't really matter now, I suppose.\n\nWe'd settled in the cave, the icy winds thrashing against the barrier I'd set up. I made a small fire, and set down a few pelts, letting her settle down with her newborn child. I sat down, taking out a portion of hard bread and offering half to her. She gingerly took it, still silent. I suppose my grayish-blue skin was a bit concerning to her, likely only used to seeing compassion from green skins like herself. I pulled down my hood, smoothing back my hair and watching the embers. \"Why.... You spare Rakka?\" She asked, still weak and shivering while her newborn clung to her breast. I sighed, running a hand through my beard. \"Druids, we're..... Well, it's our duty to help the weakened, and those who cannot protect themselves. Where's your mate, miss..... Rakka?\" She looked sullen as I mentioned the topic, looking down at her son. \"The storm.\" She replied, almost robotic in her tone. I couldn't blame her for being so feeble right now, after what she'd been through. The both of us, last of our villages, huddling by the fire in a cave, while the wind thrashes and whips against the world outside. Perhaps we might be able to secure a peace between our kinds, or maybe she's just waiting on the moment to kill me. Only time will tell.", "When I had been picked for the apprenticeship, I hadn’t realized that there wasn’t going to be transportation back home. You never walked through Zleibenhofs in the winter without proper gear, but I had to. On the third day, a major snowstorm whipped through my area. I would have died if I hadn’t found that cave, and it seemed even more miraculous that I found good firewood, but I built a fire without thinking about it. Once I had gotten settled, though, a woman came in. She was using the cave to store her things, which explained the firewood. She looked oddly familiar, but I shrugged it off. Deja but never means much, does it? One more thing; she was very pregnant. I apologized for taking her wood, but she told me she didn’t mind. \n\nI stayed the night, but around midnight she woke me up asking if I knew how to deliver a child. What luck that I had just become a doctor! I was talking with her while we went to distract her from the pain, and we got into her life. She’d been born and raised in Zleibenhofs, dirt poor, to an abusive household, and had no options but to move out. To support herself economically, she’d joined the Zleibenhofs army. She explained that she’d served in the Exotannian war, on the Western front. That’s when the red flags shot up. This woman had tortured and killed my older brother when he was 5.\n\nMy family has always been from Exotannia. I was born on the West Coast, but our village was ransacked and destroyed in the war when I was 2. Luckily we made it out with our family. Or, that is to say, most of it. I don’t remember my brother much except for his death. She’d come into our house yelling for everything we owned. She threatened to kill our parents, but they wouldn’t listen. She grabbed Julian. She started with his left hand. She took her axe, pulled back. It was clean off. My parents rushed for him, but before they got there his whole right leg was gone. He was screaming and crying, and my parents were offering all our valuables, but the woman was having too much damned fun. She swung and hit right in the neck. Severed, with blood everywhere. We had escaped through the window, but Julian wasn’t coming back.\n\nBut we were still halfway through the delivery. I agonizingly waited for her to finish, but then I told her. She apologized as hard as she could, but no apologies were going to bring Jules back. Their whole army was a bunch of rapists, murderers and psychopaths. No forgiveness there. I took out my sword “for emergencies”. I was going to have to wash my clothes.\n\nSo here I stand, holding the child of my worst enemy, on my way home. I’ve been giving her my own supply of milk for now, but I think we’ll run out pretty soon at this rate. I’ll replenish at a local store. Updates coming soon.\n\n\nThis is my first time writing a story off of a prompt here, as I’ve been a lurker for a while. Feedback is greatly appreciated!", "My sword was dull, and pitted. I was certain it was not up to the task of finishing off the warrior I would find at the end of the trail of blood stippled over the new snow. The amount of blood did not suggest a major wound, yet the warrior's footprints were oddly spaced, as if he were harboring a fierce stab to the gut. \n\nThe drops became streamers and soon they led to a makeshift tent of animal hyde. The warrior had left his spear lying in the snow. I knew he was ready to die. No sworn warrior of the tribe of the crimson pact would leave their weapon in the snow unless they decided it was dead to them. They consider their spears to be conduits to their dark God, and the only way to pray is to shed an enemy's blood. One hundred howling tribesmen had come down from the south and worshiped their God in my village for ten days and nights before the Knight-Commander swept through with his host and killed most of them. As his men feasted on our stocks they threw us a pile of old weapons and ordered us to track the survivors through the snow and put them to the sword. \n\nI stepped over the spear and threw open the flap of the tent. A rush of warm air carried the smell of sweat across my face. A naked woman squatting atop a kite shield didn't look up at me as I peered inside. She was straining, drenched in sweat, bearing down, her fists clenched on either side of her swollen belly. I don't suppose she saw me, but when the cold from the outside reached her she looked up at me. \n\n\"I have laid down my spear.\" \n\n\"I don't care.\" I drew my sword. \n\n\"I am with child.\" \n\n\"I saw your men kill many children in my village.\" \n\n\"Our dark oath demands it.\" \n\n\"I don't care.\" I crouched down and walked on my knees into the tent, pointing the sword at her. I couldn't point it at her belly so I pointed it at her throat. \n\nShe bore down again. I could see the outline of every muscle from the base of her neck to her ankles. She didn't make a sound. She would have looked like a statue had she not been trembling from the exertion. She relaxed. \n\n\"You won't kill me.\" \n\n\"You deserve to die. Your spear has the blood of my kin upon it.\" \n\n\"A mother wields no spear. My oath is about to be fulfilled.\" \n\n\"What oath?\" \n\n\"The crimson oath. You are swine to us, you cannot know the oath\"\n\n\"Where is the child's Father?\" \n\n\"The child has no Father. It was conceived of the oath.\" \n\nI didn't try to separate fact from magic. I didn't want to imagine how the child had actually been conceived. I didn't doubt that it had a father. \n\nShe had stopped talking and bore down again. Without a sound the baby emerged into her waiting hands. She brought the child to her breast and spoke a prayer in a tongue I had never heard. She opened her eyes wide and stared at the wailing child. As the child's cries grew stronger the warrior-woman's eyes turned blood red. \n\nThe mother and child were still attached by the cord. In the pale light leaking into the tent I saw a knot of black ichor inching up within the cord to the child. It moved as if each heartbeat propelled it a fraction of its journey. I drew my dagger and seized the cord in my fist. It was hot, hotter than any fever I'd ever felt. I severed it between the black knot and the child. \n\nThe ground shook. I could hear heavy lumps of snow, shaken loose from the treetops striking the roof of the tent. A bestial scream came across the sky, echoed through the trees, and faded into the distance. \n\nThe unholy thing I had cut loose writhed on the shield, hissing and steaming in the cold. It twitched for a moment, and stopped moving. I touched it with the point of my dagger and it crumbled, like ash. \n\nThe Mother looked at me. She was frightened. I draped my cloak over her shoulders and set out to gather wood for a fire. \n \n\n", "The snow whipped around the wizard; the cold piercing his cloak, but still, he pressed on. Beside him, the wizard’s mule brayed in protest, reluctant to push through the deep snow. Asmodeus could not afford to stop. The snow was falling fast, obscuring the trail, a trail Asmodeus had worked years to acquire.\n\nThe wind was stronger here; Asmodeus left the shelter of the forest and approached the mountain pass. If his luck held, the pass would be covered in snow, and his quarry would be forced to turn back. Asmodeus quickened his pace. Night was rapidly approaching, and if he did not find shelter soon, he would not survive the night. \n\nAsmodeus saw a glimmer of light peeking through the white sheet of falling snow. He steered his mule towards the light. It came from a cavern, cut into the mountainside. Two horses stood underneath the cavern entrance, covered in thick blankets to protect them from the cold. \n\nAsmodeus moved silently towards the entrance to the cave. He pulled his wand from his robes. The horses whinnied with alarm as he approached, and he saw them - The last two Asmodeus had sworn vengeance on, the last survivors of the raiders that had attacked his village. \n\n“Who are you. Show yourself!” the warrior commanded. \n\nHe stepped towards the entrance to the cave, sword in one hand, torch in the other. He was taller than young Asmodeus, wearing a thick, tattered leather cuirass that betrayed a lifetime of fighting. \n\nAsmodeus stepped into the cave. The sight of the man brought ill memories. The raider, drenched in the blood of his father, laughing. The raider grinned at the child standing before him. Asmodeus did not cry, instead, something dark grew in his eyes. A shadow – rage, and darkness. He would have his vengeance. \n\nLooking at the man now, Asmodeus was filled with that same rage, but he was no longer the helpless child that had watched the raider butcher his parents. Now, he was the butcher. \n\nThe warrior locked eyes with Asmodeus. For the first time in many years, the warrior experienced true fear; He had never seen such raw power. The warrior charged, and Asmodeus raised his wand, shouting in fury. A silver ray of light struck the warrior square in the chest. The warriors armor crumpled inwards, the bones of his body shattered, and the ray of light passed through the warrior completely, striking the walls of the cave with a thunderous force. \n\nThe warrior’s body slid several feet across the bloodied stone floor. The horses, terrified, bolted out of the cave and into the dark, cold night. \n\nAsmodeus pressed inward, rounding a corner. The fire was lit, and beside the fire lay his final revenge, the wife of the raider. Asmodeus readied his final spell, but hesitated. The half-naked woman lay helplessly on woolen blankets, sobbing. She cried out in pain. The roundness of her belly could mean only one thing – she was giving birth.\n\n“Help me, please.” She whimpered. \n\nAsmodeus faltered. He looked into the eyes of the mother; her eyes were white with fear.\n\n“Please, spare my child.” She said. \n\n“You don’t deserve to live.” Asmodeus said. \n\n“My child is innocent. Please, spare them.” She said. She cried out in labor pains. Her eyes widened, and she screamed. The child was coming, now.\n\nAsmodeus closed his eyes for a moment. The mother did not deserve mercy, but the child? The child was not part of his vengeance. He pointed the wand at the mother, feeling his power grow.\n\n“Please, no.” she begged. \n\nA green light pulsed out of the end of the wizard’s wand. Asmodeus had no choice. The whimpering of the mother subsided. \n\n“What did you do?” she said, looking up at Asmodeus in awe. \n\n“I took away your pain.” Asmodeus said, “The child will need warmth; this fire will not be enough. I will return in a moment.” \n\nHe stepped out into the cold once more. Night had almost fallen on the mountain, but with great effort Asmodeus brought his mule into the cave. He returned to find the mother sobbing, clutching her newborn daughter. A bloody knife lay beside her; she had cut the cord herself. Asmodeus aimed his wand at the fire. The fire grew and expanded, fueled by magic. \n\n“What is her name?” Asmodeus asked softly. \n\n“Kartha. Her name is Kartha, after her grandmother.”\n\n“Does she have any other family?” Asmodeus asked, afraid of the answer. \n\n“No, the dark wizard killed them all.” \n\nAsmodeus shuffled and sat by the fire. The storm would pass in a day, but travel with a newborn? It did not seem possible; there was no way the child could survive. Asmodeus wracked his brain, thinking of options. He had no way of protecting the child from the elements. Even if he could, the journey back could take weeks.\n\n“We’re both going to die, aren’t we?” the woman asked, as if she had read his mind.\n\n“That child was doomed the minute you decided to flee for the mountains.” Asmodeus said grimly.\n\n“Can’t you cast a spell, do something?” she asked.\n\nAsmodeus wracked his memory. There was one way; A powerful spell, far too costly for him to cast alone, but if he used energy from the mother…\n\n“You would die in an instant – and I cannot guarantee the child would survive. I know of a spell that can transport a living soul to a place recorded in memory. I can send Kartha to a monastery. The priests there are kind; she will have a good life.”\n\n“And in return, you kill me?”\n\n“No, I cast the spell using your energy. It will certainly kill you; it may kill us both, but Kartha will be saved. “\n\n“Do it.” The woman said. Her eyes were fierce, her expression showed contentment. “I do not fear the horrors of the shade. There is nothing left for me here, you have seen to that. Do it; save my daughter.”\n\nAsmodeus closed his eyes. He began chanting, the fire dimmed as his voice grew louder, layered with magic. He felt the woman’s soul glow bright with the love only a mother could feel for her child. Opening his eyes, Asmodeus pointed his wand at the newborn babe, and with a crack and a flash of white light, the child vanished. \n\nAsmodeus felt the woman die. His own power drained away from him, and his eyes faded to black. He collapsed on the floor of the cave. \n\n***\n\nr/BLT_WITH_RANCH \n[More from this series](https://www.reddit.com/r/BLT_WITH_RANCH/comments/9vdyhr/arhalym_chronicles/)" ]	6
	[WP] You're suddenly transported to your fictional world of choice. 5,000 feet in the air, and falling rapidly.	[ "After making my wish I could feel air rushing around me. I closed my eyes out of instinct. I could feel myself falling faster and faster. This is it. I wanted to go to my favorite fictional world and I was going to die before even getting to see it. I tried to pry my eyes open, but the wind dried up my contact lenses and made it difficult to keep them open. \n\nThis was it. Who knew how much longer I’d keep falling. These are my last moments... bam. I hit something hard yet soft. It slowed my fall until I hit another object like it. This time I let myself open my eyes. I was still falling to the ground but in a much slower pace. Above me were large leaves. \n\nA couple seconds later I hit the ground. I ground at the impact but I counted myself lucky. My landing should’ve been a lot worse. Thinking of the worse landing, I stood up to understand why my fall wasn’t as long. I brushed off any dirt on my pants and took a look around. I attempted to take in a deep breath but I only felt lightheaded and suddenly everything was black. \n\n**\n\nMy head was pounding. I had the strangest dream and I just couldn’t shake it. Slowly I opened my eyes and let out a small groan at the pain. I heard a male voice beside me call to someone else. I turned my head to look at him. \n\n“Where am I?” I closed my eyes again from the pain. \n\n“You’re in the hallelujah mountains.” He said. I opened my eyes slightly and scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. “The floating mountains of pandora?” \n\nI widened my eyes in surprise. “I’m not dead?” I asked. \n\n“No.” He laughed. \n\n“Hey. My names Grace. Haven’t seen you before.” The woman introduced herself. Suddenly all the memories came rushing back into my mind. I was sitting on my couch eating popcorn watching Avatar. I mumbled to myself wishing that I could go to pandora. And the next moment I was falling. \n\n“It’s a long story.” I said simply. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. ", "“SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHI- is that a whale?” \n\nIn the middle of my sudden and inexplicable predicament of falling from the sky and having a conversation to myself as to what I should do about it, I noticed a whale, falling with me. \n\nThe whale shouted across the distance between us, “Hello! Would you like to be my friend?!”\n\nTaken aback by this seemingly lonely whale, I then noticed it falling rapidly away. \n\n“Oh, never mind! Maybe I’ll see you later, by this thing I’m looking at. It seems like it should have a big ‘ound sounding name...” His voice trailed down through the clouds. \n\nOkay, don’t panic, but it seems we’ve been swept up by an improbability drive, which shouldn’t be possible, but was apparently so improbable that it became probable, which begs a guy wonder why it couldn’t have chosen another sod to bother, I thought to myself. What I’ll need to do is not think about that big ‘ound sounding thing and how I’m managing to avoid it, fly myself over to a spaceport and try to hitch my way back to Earth, or Martha’s going to be mental*\n\n\n\n\nEdit: more funny", "I smile. Hopeful. \n\nI extended my hands in a motion familiar, yet had no effect as a kid on my old world and none here, apparently. The air around me did not move in the slighest.\n\nHope is diminishing: the familiar ground below did not.\n\nNext idea, as I plummeted through a cloud with condensation lapping my skin. The droplets didn't obey, either. \n\nThe smile disappered into a grim line of determination.\n\nMore furious motions this time. Not a single ounce of heat flowed out of my hands.\n\nI prayed. Then cried. Then screamed:\n\nYIP YIP.\n\nNope. Last, effort. The ground shifted, but not fast or soft enough. My bones shattered and the world went black.\n\nXXX\n\nAppa perked his ears as the Team flew over the land. Something moved below, but not enough to warrant their attention. Only one of the members of the Team was staring at that spot, but, without a foot on that shifting ground, she did not see anything.\n", "5,000 feet.\n\n\nI thought I'd already died. The bright flash of the car's headlights and the frantic horn blaring in my ears were still fresh in my mind, the last memory I thought I'd ever have. I'd been in the passenger seat of my red SUV as my first date, a beautiful young woman with long blue hair that she must've dyed nightly to keep it so brilliant, had been my driver. At her instistance, seeing as I'd had one too many to drink. I thought my college record of most beers in thirty minutes would've given me a leg up, but not only had she beaten me by twice as many, but she hadn't even batted an eye afterwards.\n\n\n4,900 feet.\n\n\nThe restaurant had been really nice. Some little italian place I'd never heard of over by the old high school behind the courthouse. She'd suggested it by text and I figured it was good a place as any. I'd worn my best collared shirt and a clean pair of jeans, but when I opened the door I was pretty sure I'd gone to the wrong place. Everyone was so incredibly well-dressed I thought maybe I'd stumbled into a wedding reservation. Men in tuxes, women in flowing gowns and dresses that I'd only read about in history books were gliding to their places as the maitre'd quietly but firmly guided the waitstaff and sat them. I'd almost turned heel and walked right out but he'd already caught my eye and gestured me over. Turned out he'd been told to look out for me, and I could feel his eyes judging my choice of cloting even before he gestured to an open seat at a small round table that sat just a little higher than everyone else's. And that's when I realized she was already sitting opposite me, smiling in a way that made me wonder exactly what kind of jackpot I'd hit on the dating website. \n\n\n4,500 feet.\n\n\nI'd signed up for Just4U.com years ago, a sort of last ditch effort at kindling a dating life before I gave up and focused on work and video games as my life's cornerstones. I'd forgotten about it until one day I received an e-mail from out of the blue, stating someone had matched my preferences and was interested in mine. Of course, like most people, I was skeptical at that - usually this was just the first step towards me getting conned out of my savings account or sucked into some high interest loan I'd never be able to pay back or some other stupid scam. When I saw her photo, I basically wrote it off as a joke because someone as beautiful as her had no business lowering themselves to my substandard life. That should have been the end of it, but then I started getting pokes and nudges and whatnot until I accepted the friend invite. We hit it off right from the bat. I never would've guessed for a second that a blue-haired goddess would be as interested-- no, highly knowledgable about video games of the past twenty years along with anime of almost every genre imaginable. \n\n\n3,300 feet.\n\n\nI think what had bummed me out the most isn't so much that I died on my first date. With the way my life was going, it wasn't like I was destined for greatness or to accomplish much of anything anyway. My roommates had been very helpful at enabling my vices, and we'd often gamed the weekends away into oblivion. No, what made me despair was that I'd always felt like I was destined for something awesome, something truly special, something spectacular that no other human in the history of our world had ever experienced. I'd always dreamt, and hoped, and over time that hope had faded into resentment that what I wanted would never come to pass. And here, I'd met a veritable goddess of the water (or so I'd imagined in my own head canon) only to wind up a fine red mest pinched between rusted metal bits of a twisted SUV I hadn't even finished paying off yet, courtesy of the industrial train that had likely split it in half. A loser right to the very end.\n\n\n2,700 feet.\n\n\nThe cold wind felt really nice against my cheeks, and this sensation of weightlessness was a terrific relief for bones and muscles that had spent far too long carrying an excessive amount of weight. I had at first had the presence of mind to scream - well, actually I'd started when I realized I was about to become rail pizza - but my throat was sore and this fall was taking such a long time I figured I might as well enjoy the view. Below me was a beautiful series of rolling green hills nestled in a gentle valley, scattered with farmhouses and such that led to a small town off to one side. There were carts with horses and people of all kinds and shapes walking up and down the roads that spilled out from four sides of the village. Beyond the village there were a pair of snow-capped mountains dotted with green trees below the caps that led to a forest that stopped short of the village itself. All in all, a cozy little place that reminded me of so many online roleplaying game starting towns that I was fairly certain this was just a daydream of games gone by.\n\n\n2,650 feet.\n\n\nSo here I was, falling from a dizzying height of what I'd guessed was roughly 5,000 feet in the air, over a video game starting town that likely wasn't expecting anyone to drop in. Especially not at terminal velocity, and likely to leave one hell of an exploded flesh stain in the ground when he hit. I wasn't worried about the pain, seeing as how my death was likely to be instantaneous, but I wish I'd at least have time to figure out where I was and how I got here. My mind's haziness from my last death began to clear, and a weird memory floated to the surface. Coral, that's what the girl's name had been! I remember it now, because I thought it was an unusual name. I nodded sagely as my arms hung upwards at my sides as I continued to plummet to my doom.\n\n\n1,800 feet.\n\n\nNow that I could make out the town more clearly, I realized that at the northern edge there were green carpeted fields filled with blobs of various colors - green and orange and red and violet. And every so often I'd see a person walk up to one, swinging something or another until the blob would suddenly pop into a gooey mess. The attacker would quickly scoop up things that dropped into the mess and stuff them in their pockets, and it dawned on me that I might have been watching newbie adventurers killing slimes. An unusual sight from way up here, and a lot less thrilling that I would've imagined it to be.\n\n\n950 feet.\n\n\nIt wouldn't be long now. I was pretty sure someone was going to glance up at the sky to see the large human about to slam into them at breakneck speeds. Somehow, it was fitting and just another example of my bad luck. If I knew anything, it was that once I was corpse, some random fresh adventurer would steal everything I had on me to sell at the nearest shop. I couldn't blame them, really - I'd do the same thing in their shoes. You needed every advantage you could get in a world like this, no matter how small or inconsequential. I wondered if my remains would be buried. Maybe I'd get raised by a necromancer, a lowly skeleton in his vast undead army. Maybe I'd be turned into a zombie, to wander a mid-level zone until slain by some experienced fighter or wizard-in-training. But more than likely, I'd just wind up another gravestone in the cemetary I'd seen at the western edge of town, a nameless body to be forgotten by the ages again.\n\n\n400 feet.\n\n\nI closed my eyes. I didn't want to see this coming anymore. I didn't want to die a loser again. I didn't want to die at all. Oh goddess, whatever did I do to deserve this doubly-cruel fate? \n\n\n150 feet.\n\n\nCoral, why'd you ever go out with me?\n\n\n50 feet.\n\n\n\"Because you are my chosen hero.\"\n\n\n5 feet. \n\n\nSome hero I am, dead before the story begins.\n\n\n1 foot.\n\n\n\"This is only the prologue, beloved one.\"\n\n\nThe world went twilight sparkle, and I passed out.\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] a baby dragon, cute and not that dangerous, sits atop a mountain of candy, protecting it from adventerous children.	[ "Longtail hissed viciously turning on his hind heels, his eponymous long tail whipcracking high in the air as he threw his weight from one side to the other, and spat out a plume of green smoke that enveloped the poor fool that had dared to reach for his hoard. The plume enveloped the boy who gagged and reeled back, landing on his butt, his hiccupping giggle interrupted by a brief 'Oof!'. Tommy, suddenly having gained a new understanding of why it was important not to antagonize a bog drake, scrambled to his feet. The scent that suddenly enveloped him as green fumes drifted from his clothes and hair would've made a skunk green with envy.\n\nThe children surrounding Tommy and the hoard laughed raccuously, the wild sound that only happens when children laugh, the innocent laugh that clatters like water and seems to spur the heartbeat for a few seconds - and Tommy laughed, most of all. The vapor would disapear within the hour, and with it the smell - it was ultimately harmless, and All Hallows' Eve was about fun, after all; The sound of laughter would drive off and release the restless energies that might otherwise coalesce into malicious spirits. \n\nIt wasn't _yet_ All Hallows' Eve, though, and from all over town parents were still arriving to deposit their gifts to the hoards. Candy, of course, and coins or small trinkets, dolls and clothes and even some tools - An annual tradition as old as time itself; The gift of sweets believed to bless the giver with good fortune for the upcoming year. The hoards, each protected from the thieving mischief of the town's children would be kept under small conical roofs to protect them from the worse of the weather, temporarily constructed on the town square before the temple of Dragons - from which old, old eyes watched the proceedings, the four enormous creatures that sat upon it's stone roof sharing in the amusement in the way old dragons do - slight curls of smoke whisping from their nostrils, their golden eyes glimmering with that light of their own, their jagged-toothed maws upturned somewhat, showing a hint of flame-blackened teeth each the size of an arm - they perched on their corners of the roof and watched the children, Wyrms' and Mankinds', have their play.\n\nLongtail sat up smugly, coiling his long tail around himself, primly settling his clawed fore paws into his mound of sugary goodness and continued his vigil, silver eyes ablaze with attention, the green of his scale flashing in the light of the many lanterns as he swiveled his long neck, able easily to survey his hoard. He was young still, and would not quite reach sapience for another few decades, but even he enjoyed that sound and the visible approval of his Elders - and even he gaped his maw and blew an approving honk as his sister, less than a dozen yards away from him perched over a small but impressive mound of silver coins, lashed out her cobalt-scaled tail and lay a smack over the reaching hand of a teenager that sounded far louder than it should have and sparked a bright, brief flash of light when it connected. It was far less than she could have done but it was enough to send the teenagers into a roar of laughs all their own, the affected boy Radmil shouting out an \"Ow! Good one, Dainah!\" while shaking his stinging, tingling hand back to life. \n\nAll afternoon this feast would last, with musicians playing in their corner of the square, vendors selling snacks and the tavern selling drinks - the children, some of them not quite children anymore, would crowd the dozen-or-so hoards that slowly grew under the watchful eyes of the drakes, and the drakes would protect these hoards from the children until it was time to divide the gifts between the townsfolk, bringing prosperity with the custom and enjoyment to all - and the most successful thieves would feast the most, the candy in their pockets tasting all the more sweet for their skill at wresting it from it's protectors, the extra coins perhaps paying for another bushel of seed to be planted, or for that leaking roof to be fixed. Somewhere that night Lisa would curl up in her bed all but wrapped around that bright yellow plush of a baby drake, nursing on her thumb and believing that the little drake, toy though it might be, kept her extra-warm for the fire in the bellies of the real solar dragons.\n\nShe'd managed to sneak off with it while her father distracted it's protector, innocently asking her to light his pipe in an unhurried moment - Elleinad the solar drake was older than the others, and known to be so successful at protecting her particular hoard that most had given up on trying to steal the toys temporarily hers for the day. It wouldn't be very long before she gave her place in the square to one of her younger siblings and that particular mound would become a more popular target once more.\n\nJust another All Hallows' Day - The one day a year both the races of the land played together and forgot their worries. \n\nEdit: Spelling" ]	1
	[WP] I’m tired of ruining people’s lives, From now on i will become the “Wholesome Genie”. Instead of twisting the wishes maliciously, I will twist it to make it better!	[ "Scringly Scroogely clutched at the lamp greedily, yanking it away from the hands of the young boy who had recovered it for him. The orphan shrugged, this had been an oddly easy job, just walking into some cave and picking up a lamp that someone had left, he really wasn't sure what this old guy wanted with it, but he was paying him two grand and for that much, he didn't care. Tonight he'd eat, get drunk, get laid, get high and get a hotel room; not necessarily in that order. \n\nScroogely had already forgotten the boy as he walked from the room, clutching the small wad of notes. This lamp had been his mission for the last ten years and now, now he had it! All those legends, all those stories, they had been true and while he was already a billionaire, this was going to elevate him to something more – to godhood! \n\nThe lamp shuddered at his touch, but as he rubbed it softly, he could feel the power emanating from it and a second later, it erupted with a stream of smoke. Coughing, Scroogely backed away, only to find he was walking into a giant of a man, more than seven feet tall and completely purple. \n\n“Greetings, I am the genie of the lamp.” The creature solemnly spoke. “And I am here to… wait.” It paused and looked down. “You’re not the kid? Where did the kid go?” \n\nScroogely’s chuckle turned into a full maniacal cackle at the genie’s confusion and finally ended up as a coughing fit. The genie gently helped the old man into a seat and brought him a glass of water until it subsided. \n\n“The boy?” Scroogely croaked. “The boy sold the lamp to me and I know the rules genie, I am the rightful possessor now and so you must obey me word.” \n\nThe genie nodded, he’d been through this before and knew the drill. “Very well, O master, do you have a bidding, or wish for me now?” \n\nThe laughter started again, but this time he caught himself and it petered off as he sat up in his chair. “Oh yes Genie, but let us be clear, how many wishes to I get?” \n\n“Three.” The Genie confirmed, holding up three fingers. “But you cannot destroy the world, although you may wish to rule it. You cannot force true love, although you can bend the will and body of another to you and finally you cannot mess with cats, as I really like them and I just won’t do it.” \n\n“Indeed, well then let us begin Genie.” Scroogely moved to a drawer and pulled out a thick file. “Can you read?” \n\n“Yes.” Replied the genie, hiding his annoyance. “But as a genie, I know almost all things, including the content of that document.” \n\n“Very good.” Scroogely placed it down between them. “Then as my first wish, I wish that my next two wishes are held to the terms in this document, which does not break your rules, standards or anything you will not do. It sets out how the wishes and my words can be interpreted, to avoid any cruel twists or turns you may include.” \n\nThe genie nodded. “Well, okay, easy first one and done.” \n\nThis was the third time that the genie had been taken from his cave in the last fifty years and each time they had tried to bind him to certain rules. These latest were good, written by skilled lawyers, but as always they reflected the men who had written them in what they feared. \n\nThe rules prevented cruel twists, unintended consequences and the teaching of ‘lessons’ by way of making the wishes unintentionally not what he wanted. There were ‘Midas’ clauses and ‘Monkey Paw’ appendices and all sorts, but what there was not, as there could not be, was a rule against making things work out better than intended. \n\nSatisfied, Scroogely picked up another piece of paper and read out carefully. “As set down in the terms, I wish you to give me complete power over the world.” \n\nThe genie nodded again. “So it is wished, so it is done.” \n\nFor a long minute the two sat opposite each other and didn’t speak, until at last the billionaire grew testy. “Well? What happened, I don’t feel anything.” \n\nThe genie shrugged. “It’s all by your rules, I can’t just wipe the world and reset it.” The papers on the table slipped over to a few hundred pages in. “As per page two hundred and seventy three, clause one nine six, that would interfere with the current running of your business, so your power will develop from now.” \n\nHe looked unhappy, but Scroogely nodded, it somewhat made sense and was even a little comforting. He stood and moved to the door of his office, no point waiting, he might as well go and find his power.\n\nAs he reached it, there was a rapping on the door and then it opened before he could reply. This was unusual, he had a security team and a very well browbeaten secretary who knew not to let anyone in. The President himself would have been made to wait. \n\nPushing in, it was his secretary herself, much to his amazement. He’d broken this girl’s will years ago, she tried to quit regularly, but he had her completely under his thumb. Coming in unannounced was… unthinkable. \n\n“Hey boss!” She squeaked, a cheesy grin on her face. “Some folks to see you, I said they can come right in, I was sure you’d be happy.” Rage began to grow, hot and burning in his chest, but before he could vent it at her, she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then affectionately rubbed off the lipstick. “Don’t be long as you’ll need lunch soon!” \n\nShe was gone and suddenly pushing through the door was a group of men and woman he’d never seen before, most clutching papers and documents. “Who, who the hell are you?” he squeaked, then looked around in confusion, only realising then that the genie was gone and the lamp was sitting there, accusingly. \n\nHe took a breath, this was a little unexpected, but then the contract would keep him safe; he’d paid the oldest, richest lawyers he could find to write that! He turned to the group, that had settled around a table in his office and walked over. \n\nThe woman at the head of the table seemed to be in charge. “Okay, so we’re going with the tax raises and drug policies for the front of the website, yeah?” \n\n“Wait, what?” Scroogely gapes at the posters they had featuring pictures of him grinning, embracing children and homeless people, below a banner. ‘A better world for all’. \n\nThe group laughed. “Good one boss!” Words were tossed about. “Welfare rise”, “nationalisation” terms that made his blood boil and all be attributed to him. \n\n“ENOUGH” He screamed and at last the group looked at him. “GET. OUT!” \n\nThey nodded and in moments filed from the room. Scroogely ran back to his desk as the door closed and grabbed the lamp, rubbing furiously. The genie appeared, this time forsaking the cloud of smoke. “Hey boss.” \n\n“What did you do? What is going on!” \n\nThe genie blinked in surprise. “Just what you asked. You want power? Well, you have a political campaign which has a 98% approval rating and you’re registered to run in the next elections. In two to four years you’ll be in complete control and as an aside, no matter what you do, people are going to see the best in you and love you.” \n\n“Love me?” Scroogely screeched. “I’ve spend a lifetime making sure that no sycophantic morons come near me. I don’t want to be president, I want to rule.” \n\nShrugging, the Genie moved to the window and drew back the blinds. “It’s all in the contract, this fulfils every part. You’ll get what you want, have complete power and everyone will love you. Look.” \n\nWith growing dread, Scroogely moved to the window, only to see a crowd forming, holding pictures of him and starting to chant positive messaged. ‘ Scroogely save us!’ was floating up as the main one from below. \n\nIt was too much and Scroogely stalked from his office and began to head downstairs. The Genie, interested, followed, although no one seemed to much notice him. In a few minutes he reached the front door and burst through. He didn’t notice that his security team didn’t move ahead of him to clear people out the way, as they normally would. \n\nThe crowd screamed at the sight of him, sounding more like teenaged girls at a concert than an impromptu political rally. Only now did Scroogely realise that his security was hanging back, smiling and assuming he was happy with all of this attention. \n\nThe people grabbed him, screaming to him how much they loved him and wanted him to rule them. He was dragged forward, clothes tearing and ripping. The genie followed him into the crowd, still not being noticed, as the people surged around him. \n\nPanicking, Scroogely tried to fight back, pushing and punching at people, but they replied with kisses and attempts to cuddle him. Seeing the genie standing calmly by, he reached out. “Genie help me.” \n\nAgain the Genie shrugged. “This is the wish, it’s all positive and no negative consequences, as you asked. These people will not hurt you, they’ll pay for any damage and at the end they’ll love you even more.” \n\n“I hate them” Screamed Scroogely. “I hate people, I hate being touched, make it stop, I want it, I wish it, I must….” \n\n***\n\nHit the 10k limit - continued below in part 2" ]	1
	[WP] Every other day, you water and clean a small plant in your room. One day, while you are wiping its tiny green leaves, it whispers, "I love you!"	[ " \n\n\"I love you too,\" Sarah replied automatically. After a second she realized she was alone in her apartment. She stopped wiping the plant's leaves and looked around the living room. She tensed her body half expecting to find a dangerous stranger. \"Hello?\" she called out.\n\n\"Hello. I love you,\" a soft, nasally voice replied. It sounded to her as if it came from the plant. She leaned close to the ceramic pot.\n\n\"Hello?\" she whispered to the plant. Her eyes narrowed and she held her breath, hoping for a response.\n\n\"Hello!\" it replied. Sarah smiled.\n\n\"You can talk!\" She cheered to herself. If she owned a talking plant it would not be long before she was rich. She decided to try and befriend it. \"What's your name?\" she asked the plant.\n\n\"What's a name?\" It asked. Then it asked a follow-up while Sarah wondered how to answer the first question. \"What's your name?\"\n\n\"My name is Sarah,\" she said. \"A name helps other people recognize you.\"\n\n\"I recognize you,\" the plant said. \"I love you.\" Sarah chuckled.\n\n\"Why didn't you say so earlier?\" she asked with a teasing tone.\n\n\"I did. You only heard me today.\" That response caught Sarah off guard.\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" it replied.\n\n\"I wonder what changed,\" she ran through the previous day in her mind. Her body answered by giving her the sudden urge to scratch. \"Oh yeah.\" Sarah smiled at the clear plastic bandage around her left arm. She got a tattoo of an elaborate potted ivy with her favorite number, 52, on the clay pot. Once she remembered her new tattoo, memories about the tattooist came with it. He seemed very friendly and interested, but Sarah did not get the impression he was trying to date her. He acted as if he had a secret he was trying not to reveal to her. Her brown eyes widened when she replayed his last words in her mind.\n\n\"Don't scratch or pick at it. If you notice anything you think is strange, feel free to come back and see me.\" He said when Sarah was ready to leave. The tattooist handed her a business card that said, \"Mundo\" on it with his phone number. \n\n\"What could be strange about a tattoo?\" she wondered at the time. Now she had her answer.\n\n\"I'll be right back,\" she felt awkward leaving the room without acknowledging the plant in some way. She found her purse in her room and dug through it until she found the business card. Then she dialed the phone.\n\n\"Hi. Uh, with Mundo please?\" she asked once someone picked up the other end. After a moment a new voice came on the phone.\n\n\"Hi, Mundo. Uh, you probably don't remember me. My name is Sarah and I was in there yesterday for a tattoo-\"\n\n\"The plant, right?\" He chuckled. \"Number 52?\"\n\n\"Yes! Wow, you've got a great memory,\" Sarah said. The fact that he remembered her caught her by surprise.\n\n\"Nah, I knew you’d call pretty quick,” she heard a smile in his voice. “Plants are a chatty bunch.”\n\n\\\\\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #312. 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] Write a story about a vampire that feeds off of the blood of other vampires.	[ "\"The enemy of my enemy is my friend\" Viktor hissed, he quickly ripped open the vampires throat with his teeth and let the gore rain upon him.\n\nThe soldiers were shaking, they had came to assist Viktor with a nest clean up, but he single handedly slaughtered the whole nest before they had arrived.\n\nViktor turned around, blood glistening from the soldiers flashlights, undead flesh and congealed blood covering him. He flexed his shoulders and cracked his neck as his jet black wings tore through the flesh in his back.\n\nThey knew he had caught the scent of a runner.\n\n\"Fetch\" barked Commander Wandering\n\nWithout hesitation the 8ft 300lb lumbering beast wisked away into the air without so much as a gust.\n\nThe soldiers were frightened as they had been told they were helping somone, not something. \n\n\"Viktor is one of our prototype soldiers, he is genetically engineered to hunt Vampires. He has abilities beyond that of any regular vampire.\" Wandering repeated to his men, hoping to put them at ease. \"He's able to tell a vamp apart from a human by scent alone, and he can follow that scent like a bloodhound. Unlike regular vamps however he has the ability to fly.\" Wandering continued.\n\nA scream and then a body dropped fr the sky. A vampire, still alive, legs torn clean off. Just as the soldiers train their guns on the vamp Viktor slams down with enough force to shake the ground violently\n\nViktor turns to the commander and yells \"AMBUSH!\"\n\n\n", "\"I'm telling you, Micheal,\" Wendy said for what seemed like hundredth time, \"You need to feed somewhere else.\" Micheal eyed the pretty redheaded bartender from behind his glasses and glanced around at the other patrons in the Heavenly Hole. Most human. Some vampire. Many were drank. Others were on the lookout for drinks. \n\nMicheal tipped back his glass of Sazerac, a local favorite, and hummed to the beat of slow jazz. \n\n\"Are you even listening to me?\" The human woman asked.\n\n\"I hear you, Wendy,\" the vampire said dispassionately. His eyes caught a flash of red. A beautiful red dress. Cut low, revealing. The owner was just as flirtatious and offered him a sweet smile. He could tell straight away she was a vampire.\n\n\"But you're not going to listen.\" He had already stood up after nodding to the red dress beauty. Wendy sighed. \"Just try not to make too much of a mess.\"\n\n\"No promises.\" Micheal was in the crowd in seconds. His hand found his target's. They shared secret smiles. \"Where do you want to go?\" he asked.\n\n\"Anywhere is fine. I'm very...versatile.\" He liked the sound of that. \n\nJust try not to make too much of a mess this time.\n\nAs much as he wanted to have fun, he also didn't want to upset Wendy.\n\nMicheal took the female vampire with him to the balcony. The music was loud now. The other vampires were too busy to see what would happen. The humans were oblivious as always. Micheal closed the curtain behind them, and her mouth was on his in seconds. He sighed into the kiss. It was a nice night. Cool and quiet. He would eat and then go home. \n\n\"May I?\" he asked. She looked confused at first and then startled. \n\n\"You want to...taste me?\" \n\n\"Should I not?\"\n\n\"Uh...\" If she were smarter, she would have refused. She would have firmly told him no and left. Immediately. For her own safety. She seemed indecisive for a moment before grinning again.\n\n\"Sure. Why not? A little taste sounds fun.\" She must be a recently Turned. No vampire could be this dumb. Letting another vampire taste you? How easy was the game for Micheal now. He smiled down at her and wrapped his arms around her. Taking one hand, he bent her neck back and gave it a long, slow lick. She giggled in surprise. \n\nIt only took a moment for him to sink in.\n\nIn that moment, he fate was sealed.\n\nShe was seconds to late in reacting. She tried to move her arms but was held fast. Her undead body, so strong and solid, went limp and weak in his arms. He hummed into her skin and detached himself from her neck. He looked down from the balcony. There was a dumpster right below them, just like he predicted. \n\nNo one, human or vampire, heard the body thump into the dumpster below. \n\nMicheal sighed into the night sky. He truly was a freak of nature, even for a vampire. He hummed to the music one more time before disappearing back into the Heavenly Hole. He decided he would go out and take a stroll with Wendy. Maybe he should even buy her some hot chocolate. \n\nAfter all, it was indeed a beautiful night. " ]	2
	[WP] Momma never told me not to play with matches. That's how I discovered my power.	[ "Another bored Saturday evening spent watching the road, just waiting for him to return with the remnants of burnt cigarettes, that had died months ago to keep me company.\n\nI had a good feeling about today, the newspaper said I'd be lucky today, there was no shouting from next door yet and I had almost set a new record for red cars today at 6.\n\nAnd there it was the small red box of Mr. Hugo's matches just sitting there unattended without flame or hand.\n\nSurely Mr. Hugo wouldn't notice if I took one right, just borrowed one small, tiny match. Quick as a red car.\n\nSo with a deep breath and the deafening, drumming beating of my heart that seemed to overshadow the peaceful cicadas I slowly walked over. Sneaking through weeds and over stone.\n\nAnd the box, Redheads, with the dirtied image of a white lady against the red marred with dust. So with my heart quickening every second I opened it and removed one tiny piece of wood, barely the size of my finger.\n\nThen the scraping as I ran it past the checkered side, one, two, three flicks and there it was.\n\nIt was fascinating, a small fire flickering on a stick, small wisps of smoke trailing from the match and a faint crackle in the air that was the only sound in the world that mattered.\n\nMesmerizing hues of red and yellow that slowly crawled down the wood, leaving only a charred corpse behind. \n\nAnd then the footsteps came, loud, heavy and then came the panic.\n\nAnd I dropped it, the small piece of lit wood fell out of my hand and tumbled down between the gaps in the floorboards, and from the dark lair of spiders and rogue weeds emerged a flame that grew larger and larger. \n\nPart of me wanted to run, wanted to flee and hope Mr. Hugo wouldn't see me.\n\nBut a larger part was enraptured by the flame, so I sat down ignoring the footsteps and pulled my eye up to the floorboards to see it better. To see the flame growing as it consumed the smaller insects that had made home there, and watched as the colours began to shift. It called to me.\n\nSo I called back, a whisper of hope and love that asked for it to grow larger.\n\nAnd grow it did, larger and larger and larger till it was all encompassing, it's heat warm and loving like a mother's embrace. Then listening to it's lullaby of screams and ashes I fell asleep.\n\nWhen I woke I found myself in a coat of yellow, leaning against a red truck and through those drowsy eyelids all I saw were the remains of Mr. Hugo's house and all I wanted was to see the flame again." ]	1
	[WP] You're walking home in a rainstorm, passing a field. You see someone standing out in that field, looking to the sky. A lightning bolt comes down and strikes them. You rush over to see if they're okay, only to find them sitting up, their body smoking. "Now that's the stuff!" they say.	[ "After watching him get struck by lightning, hit by a bus, run over by a train, jump off the water tower, and shooting him six times in the chest I was willing to believe that Jameson really was immortal. To be honest I was pretty well convinced after the train cut him in half and he got up but he insisted on doing the rest just to make sure it really hit home.\n\nSupposedly, and I had no remaining reason to doubt his story, he had been a British soldier in the Revolutionary War. Left for dead by his own troops on a battlefield somewhere, he woke up. Just like that, woke up, like he'd been taking a nap with a musket ball in his brain pan. Dying for King and country was a one time deal, he figured, so he'd felt no obligation to return to his unit. \n\nNow, some two hundred odd years later he had built a rather sizeable fortune. \"It's amazing how much money you can save when not eating won't kill you and freezing to death doesn't apply,\" he explained. He had turned the heater up when we'd reached his house, but I figured it was really only for my comfort. Although the night had been brisk and it had been raining most of the evening, Jameson wore nothing more than an old pair of boots, battered blue jeans, and a tee shirt with a logo so faded I couldn't tell what it had been. \n\nI listened to his story, many of his stories, as he served tea and the house warmed around us. He talked until nearly dawn before I excused myself with a promise to return another night to hear more. " ]	1
	[WP] You're not 100% certain, but you're fairly sure there are two spies duking it out outside your bathroom stall.	[ "Alexander Knobles wishes, beyond anything he could possibly wish, he had not had that second cup of coffee. Barely getting the bathroom stall door shut and his pants out of the way he sat down to unleash the pent up fury that had been building within his tortured soul. A moment of relief is quickly overwhelmed with the aroma of slick fear, and his brain works in double time to ascertain whether he will die here in this small basement men’s room in old town Stalingrad, thousands of miles away from his home in small-town Vermont.\n\nA few seconds of familiar sounds from the adjoining restaurant fills the space as the door to the men’s room opens, and then closes silently. Footsteps echo over the blood raging in Alexander’s ears from the labors of his dilemma. The feet pause at the sink in front of his stall door, and everything goes silent. They aren’t the feet he was expecting to see, but are those of a woman, and the feet are wearing the most elegant high heeled shoes he has ever seen. The water turns on and the woman washes her hands with care; gently and thoroughly. She finishes, dries her hands, and turns to stand facing the main door. A moment later someone else enters the bathroom. The same sounds from the restaurant surround Alexander for a few seconds... a connection to a normal world that now seems an infinite distance away. A lifetime away. This second person stays near the door after it shuts, and Alexander’s heart drops as he hears the distinct sound of the deadbolt being thrown, locking him in with these two mystery persons, and them with him and his internal distress. \n\nThe new person steps forward, a pair of expensive men’s shoes pauses a short distance before the woman’s. He speaks with a heavy German accent, a voice like the sound of gravel being crushed, “The garden is full of weeds this year, the herbicide isn't working. ”\n\n“Perhaps you should use a shear to clip the weeds.” replies the woman. Her English is superb, but there’s still a tinge of a Russian background buried deep. How Alexander picks up on this he attributes to the heightened senses of his unfortunate situation. \n\nThe man take a moment to continue. Alexander can HEAR the man tilt his head before saying, almost accusingly, “Shears are too indiscriminate; besides, weeds must be pulled out by the roots. After all... it will be autumn soon.” \n\n“Yes. But for some...” the woman take a step back, “it will be WINTER soon!” She lunges forward, her feet a blur, and two begin a fight the likes of which Alexander has never felt before. Felt, because their epic battle rattles the very confines of his existence. Pushing against the walls of his private sanctum, threatening the last shreds of his human decency. Alexander locks his arms against the stall door as the two bodies are constantly smashed against it. The hinges rattle themselves loose and the latch screams with greater and greater distress. And just as suddenly as it begins the cacophony of noise ends, and silence completely fills the small room. The lack of noise is a tangible thing, overpowering all other senses. From the right a trickle of blood slowly zigzags across the tiled floor, a brilliant red against a stark white. Footsteps shatter the silence and make their way across the bathroom. Once again the high heeled shoes pause at the sink in front of his stall. The woman washes her hands with care; gently and thoroughly. The trickle of blood veers towards Alexander and creeps under his door. She finishes, dries her hands, and turns now to stand facing the stall. \n\n“Asset validation,” she speaks through the door, “Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight Car. Soldier?”\n\nEverything comes rushing back to him. The missions, the love triangles, the cover within a cover. Everything leading up to Operation Backstop, everything. The man once known as Alexander Knobles stands up, wipes his ass, buckles his pants, and opens the stall door. Svetlana stands there with a smile on her face. They embrace and exchange a passionate kiss. She leans back to look him in the eyes, “Welcome home, Agent 47. Or should I say... AK-47?” " ]	1
	[WP] You've cheated death, and he is not happy. However, he soon learns what allowed you to cheat death the first time.	[ "Yesterday death knocked at my front door and said my name. I told him John Davis was my neighbor and I was my neighbor Russ. Death left but not before saying \"see you in 22 years.\"\n\nToday my wife talked to Russ' wife and told me that Russ died yesterday. I sat around in my den in confusion for the rest of the day thinking \"will I die in 22 years?\" Until later evening there was another knock at my....side door? The door that leads to the outside from my den. I got up and went over to the door and said \"who's out there\"\n\n\"Death, John, now open the door\" came the reply in the raspy voice from yesterday. \n\nScared out of my wits I yelped \"No!\"\n\n\"You cheated me John, don't make this worse\" said death\n\nI unlocked and pulled open the door before taking few steps back. The hooded black figure of death stepped into my den and closed the door.\n\nAlthough I was terrified I still had to ask this question \"wait death, I didn't know you were real I thought you were a joke someone was playing. How is it my fault you went and actually killed the wrong guy? Did you ask his name too before you killed him?\"\n\nDeath didn't say anything he simply paused for a moment before lifting his sleeve so that I could see inside. When I looked Inside I saw... Russ' wailing soul floating there in torment. Then death put his sleeve down and said \"do you believe I am real now?\"\n\nIn a squeak I replied \"yeah!\" \n\nDeath paused for another moment before turning and walking over to sit down on my couch. Then he said \"John I felt it yesterday and sitting in your den I can tell your one of my favorite kinds of fellow but your living on time that is not yours John.\"\n\nI stepped over to my recliner adjacent to the couch, sat down and said \"Death, I actually think your a pretty great fellow yourself but hey buddy what are our options? What do we do about it now?\" I couldn't see his eyes but Death never took his hooded figure of a face off of me. \n\nWe sat there for a good few minutes, Death on the couch, me on the recliner, it almost seemed like we really were....just hanging out like two buddies chatting.\n\nThen Death said \"Balance must be restored but as long as you help me, not only will you not suffer, you may yet gain more than you ever dreamed.\"\n\nIt didn't really sound like there were any better options so I just said \"I'll help you\"\n\nDeath laughed and said \"Good but beware John everything has its price and you've already made a purchase you have yet to pay and there will be interest. Say goodbye to your family, we leave in one hour.\"" ]	1
	[WP] one day, at the most unexpected time, a kind of portal opens up near you. a man steps out, hands you a letter before stepping back inside and disappearing.	[ "Mr. Keenin began class as he did every day for the last twenty five years. His room ran like clockwork. Students came in, assembled their instruments, warmed up, and once the bell rang band began. On his podium he raised a hand and in seconds the room was silent.\n\nHe was neither tall or particularly striking, but having been a high school band director for over two and a half decades he learned to put on a commanding presence. It paid dividends, he rarely had behavior problems. His students had even seen him cow angry parents. This man of modest height and features was a force to be reckoned with.\n\n“Brass on mouthpieces, woodwinds on F.” He instructed as he turned to a cart beside him. On the cart’s top shelf sat an old McAdams 20x metronome. It was older than the students, but it still worked like new. He set his tempo and turned it on.\n\nReturning his attention to the band, he raised his hand and a wall of instruments were moved into playing position. Silently, he moved his arms. Down. In. Out. Up.\n\nTogether the students took a breath and played. Four beats later they stopped and held still.\n\n“Very good. Clarinets, don’t move while playing. Saxophones, make sure your straps are adjusted. Oboe, less reed. Bassoons, adjust bocals and seat straps. Flutes-“ he began, but was interrupted.\n\nBeside the band a rectangular portal opened. There was no pomp and circumstance of strong winds or bright lights. It was simple, neat. There was a dull purple glow on the surface making it opaque and hazy. Students looked unnerved, they traded glances between the portal and their teacher.\n\nA man in a sleek, semi-futuristic suit stepped through into the classroom. He was tall, stern, square jawed, and had the posture of a man with power. In his hand he clutched a simple envelope. Silently he looked about the room until his eyes fixed on their target. One of the students on the opposite end of the classroom, a small, mousey girl holding a french horn. He strode purposefully towards her until the sound of a throat clearing broke his concentration.\n\nMr. Keenin, having turned the metronome off, fixed the visitor with a stern, unflinching gaze. He extended his hand and quietly waited. The two men stared each other down. After a long moment the visitor returned to his task only to be interrupted again by Mr. Keenin’s throat being cleared.\n\nThe visitor was met with a stare that could whither crops. The band director was not to be trifled with. The visitor hesitated, then changed course. The tall, intimidating mad was cowed as he made his way to the podium and handed Mr. Keenin the letter.\n\nThe band director took the envelope and looked at the front, raised an eyebrow and handed it back. “Put a name on it or I throw it in the trash.” He said softly, but firmly. Mr. Keenin took a pen off of his stand and handed it to the visitor.\n\nA few scribbles later and both the pen and envelope were returned to the band director. Once again he looked at the front of the envelope, then placed it on the cart beside the metronome. The visitor’s eyebrows raised and he was about to object to such an important envelop being treated as an afterthought, but before he could open his mouth Mr. Keenin ended the conversation. “Thank you.” He said firmly and dismissively.\n\nThe visitor hesitated, then quietly made his way back to the portal he entered from. Before departed Mr. Keenin addressed him one last time. “Next time you will deliver all student correspondence to the front office and a student will deliver it.” He chastised the visitor. The tall, stern man nodded and disappeared into the purple haze and the portal snapped shut behind him.\n\nWithout losing a beat, Mr. Keenin turned the metronome back on. “Brass on instruments. While they assemble woodwinds, here is a reminder that marching practice will be happening thirty minutes earlier than normal. Kassey Deacon, please come to the cart and retrieve your letter. Flutes, rotate your head joints properly. Woodwinds and brass trading fours. Remember to breathe for two counts.”\n", "The air split open with a thundering crack.\n\nRaindrops hit the blinding white sphere and rolled off its surface, the downpour making it look like a suspended water feature. It expanded quickly to a diameter of three meters before dimming to an intensity safe for the naked eye.\n\nEvie didn't see the being materialize, but she felt it. The flash blindness took time to wear off, and her heart pounded with panic. She reached out with the tendrils of her mind, locating another lifeform in the clearing ahead of her. It was weak, not from old age but rather from a large energy expenditure. He was struggling to control the portal, ensuring that it was stabilized before stepping out. Probably a long-distance run with no beacon support.\n\nThe sphere winked out of existence before her vision cleared, along with the brief snippet of the being's mind. Darkness resumed, the headlights behind her providing meager illumination. Only the partially formed footprints in the mud provided any indication that someone had created a portal here and left in a blink. Evie noticed how the soles were flat, without the aggressive tread of the boots she wore. In fact, the tapered toe made it look like some type of dress shoe.\n\nCertainly not something one would wear for an excursion into the wilderness.\n\nAn object caught her eye, its slim surface barely casting a shadow in the light. The plastic envelope, soaked to the brim, had been dropped several feet from where the prints were found. If the being lacked the proper footwear, at least he had the foresight to ensure that his correspondence wasn't destroyed.\n\nHer analyst's mind flickered away as she pondered the situation once again. Now, why in hell would someone jump into the middle of nowhere, nearly using up all his reserve, just to give her an envelope? Of course, assuming it was actually meant for her.\n\n**\n\nThe FJ Cruiser was cramped, the trunk filled with cases of supplies. It came from the factory as Zone IV certified, with hardened integrated circuits and extensive shielding. During it's time as a patrol vehicle, it was fitted with vacuum tube comms and extra redundancy to handle brief stints in Zone V areas. This was before it was decommissioned and sold to the local motor pool.\n\nWhen magic thrives, electronics fade, they'd said. Mechanical calculators were commonplace in the most remote Zone VI areas. Wealthy explorers carried nanofluidic computers that paled in comparison to silicon, but which actually worked everywhere. Her modern phone and laptop remained confined to a thick case.\n\n\"Greg, are you all right?\" she asked reflexively. Her son lay in the car seat, head enveloped by the modern headrest. On a regular day, the light and sound would've made the toddler scream and cry. Now he was as silent as a corpse.\n\nThe mark of death had triggered again, despite all they'd tried. It split his skin open at random intervals, exposing the flesh and blood underneath. This time his forearm had split open, the synthetic bandages failing to contain it once again. Pus and blood trickled from the narrow wound, leaking onto the plastic tarp she'd fastened over his lap.\n\nEvie knew the pain was immense. She'd calmed him several hours ago, forcing him into a deep slumber that numbed his mind. As she concentrated, she noticed streams of energy caressing the cut, the remains of the spell placed on her son. Arum had managed to clear out most of it, burning out much of his reserve in an attempt to neutralize fire with fire. He'd ordered her to take the best vehicle in the village and head out to meet the doctors in Inalta.\n\nDespite living in the reserves, a non-taxpayer, and not entitled to many government services, emergency assistance was a constitutional right. If the radios worked, they'd have called for a medevac. The airwaves hadn't cooperated for the last few days.\n\nHer supplies of healing salve were dwindling, but she applied it generously to the wound. Arum had strictly ordered her to refrain from using magic directly on the affected area. He'd synthesized a small bottle for her, which had taken several of them the entire night to develop. Evie still felt the exhaustion of watching her power drain into the liquid under the guidance of Arum's spells. \n\nUnder the dim glow of the map light, she burned through the plastic with a flicker of sparks from her fingertip. She extracted a printed map and a small business card for a F. Schmidt, litigator. The good stuff was written on the back.\n\n\n Evelyn,\n \n DON'T take Greg to the hospital. DON'T ask me why.\n Go to grid A-2 on the map sheet and wait for my signal.\n \n Dad\n\n\nEvie didn't see her father much, him living in the big city and her in the countryside just the way she liked it. It was one thing to get your energy from the tap lines running along the walls, and another to literally breathe the infinite stream of magic that only existed in the mystical wild. She wasn't one of those Zone IV crazies, but a Zone VI village that still allowed for some technology was her ideal.\n\nSomewhere deep down, she saw Dad's hand scribble this notice on the card. Quickly and immediately after receiving notice of the situation. Her scientific background urged her to go to the hospital and do this the traditional way. But some dark feeling in the back of her mind told her to make a U-turn and head north.", " \n\n\"OPEN IT!\" Mundo yelled. The athletic man hopped off his chaise and knelt in the sand next to Sandra. She sat up and stared at the black envelope the stranger handed her. Sandra and her best friend, Mundo, rested under a beach umbrella on vacation when the stranger appeared. A vertical black hole appeared in the air next to Sandra's seat; then, a short white-haired man stepped out of it. The man handed her the envelope then stepped into his portal and disappeared without a word. They both had an idea of what it was and Sandra tore one side of the envelope. She pulled the letter out and smiled once she saw the first word.\n\n\"Congratulations!\" She squealed with delight as she read the letter to Mundo. \"I am happy to inform you that your application to become a resident has been approved.\" She bounced in her seat as she read. \"You have a maximum of six weeks to sort your affairs on your current Earth. There is a portal enclosed should you be ready sooner.\" Sandra handed the envelope to Mundo so he could check then kept reading. \"We look forward to having you join our community. Sincerely, Angel Castillo. #46, El Sol.\" She looked at Mundo. He handed Sandra a small black business card with a golden sun logo on it.\n\n\"Here's the portal,\" he smiled. Once she took the card he stood from the sand and sat next to her on her plastic-y lounger. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close for a side-hug. His fingertips traced the watermelon tattoo on her arm. He inked the watermelon slice with its seeds shaped like the number 28 for her himself. \"That's awesome, I'm super happy for you,\" he said. He sounded wistful.\n\n\"I'll come back to visit,\" she rested her head on his shoulder. \"C'mon, it's a whole Earth for Uniques only!\" Sandra could not help but smile when she said it. \"I'm sure I'll befriend a Celestial or two that can give me a ride.\" Mundo nodded.\n\n\"Yeah, of course. Doesn't mean I can't miss you,\" he chuckled. \"How much of that six weeks do you think you'll need?\" Sandra slipped her hand into his and squeezed it.\n\n\"Need?\" she shrugged. \"I'm giving everything to you anyway, I can leave right now.\" She felt him deflate against her, but she squeezed his hand harder. \"But now that I can quit work, I'll just hang out with you for the six weeks.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" he hugged her again.\n\n\"Who knows? With all those Uniques in one place maybe one of them can figure out how to separate a Mundo from its Earth. Then you can come with me.\" She tried to encourage him. He shook his head.\n\n\"I'd like that, but I'm pretty sure it's impossible without killing me and* this Earth.\" He leaned in and kissed the dark brown curls on top of her head. \"Let's focus on the next six weeks instead. They have to be amazing.\"\n\n\\\\\\\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #313. 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. ", "There was a knock at the door, “You alright in there?”\n \n“Yeah,” Gene grunted, “Just fine.”\n\n“No, you’re not. I told you not to eat that takeout—it was a week old, but did you listen to me? No, you chose the siren call of finely aged chicken curry!”\n\nGene whiped the cold sweat from his brow and leaned back on the toilet. “Jesus, Jane, I’m sorry, ok? What more do you want me to say?”\n\n“What do I want you to say? Oh I don’t know, how about sorry for vomiting on my sister and embarrassing me in front of my entire family!” Jane yelled, punctuating her words by pummeling the door.\n\n“Alright, fine, I’m sorry, but goddamn, I’m already being punished enough! Just let me suffer in peace!”\n\nThere was an ominous quiet—Gene imagined Jane’s face reddening as her rage built, and he braced himself for a fresh onslaught, but to his surprise he instead heard an audible breath as Jane deflated, followed by footsteps as she tromped away.\n\nYet still there was a palpable tenseness to the air around him. Truth be told there had been for a while. He and Jane had been having marital woes for months, and he knew Jane wasn’t really mad about his vomiting in her sister’s lap—she hated her sister, but now maybe she hated him too. There was no getting away from that oppressive sensation—it grew every day, and it was particularly bad just then, seeming to press down on Gene’s shoulders and. . . make his ears pop? \n\nBefore Gene could even furrow his brow there was an electric crackle in the air, a sudden flash of luminescence behind the shower curtain and a rush of air violent enough to knock over a few toiletries and send the toilet paper pirouetting through the air in a long streamer. Gene slammed back into the porcelain, eyes wide and sphincter tight, flailing about madly with a magazine in a vain attempt to ward off the hurricane of soaps and ointments battering him about the head. For a moment he thought a tornado must have hit the house, and he jumped to his feet, intent on waddling to safety, but before he even had the time to trip over his briefs, the cataclysm apparently ended.\n\nGene stood for a moment, mouth open, gawking at the chaos around him, then collapsed back onto the toilet, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he heard a sneeze. It had come from inside the bathroom.\n\nHis eyes shot open. The shower curtain was rustling about, and there was a dark shape obscured behind it. A hand came into view around the edge of the fabric and drew it away, and Gene was left staring up at a very large, uniformed man who most certainly had not been standing in the tub ten seconds before.\n\nThe man stared down at Gene wanly, then looked about the chaotic room. “Sorry about the mess,” he said, “there’s always a bit of a pressure differential with these portals. Tends to play havoc in enclosed spaces. Now, let’s see, you’re Mr. Mclene, right?”\n\nGene nodded dumbly.\n\n“And the date is. . . November the 11th, 2018?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Excellent!” The man exclaimed, digging through a bag he had slung at his side, drawing a letter from it and proffering it to Gene. “Nothing too major, just from a few years down the road.”\n\nGene stared at the letter, then looked up at the man. “What are you doing in my bathroom?”\n\n“Oh, you don’t—wait, this is 2018? Right, you wouldn’t understand, this must have been a little jarring for you. Well, Mr. Mclene, I am a wizard, and this letter here is an invitation to Hogwarts!”\n\n“Really?”\n\nThe man snorted, “Do I look like a wizard? I’m Future Postal Service! Now please, take the letter, and maybe light a candle in here.”\n\nGene took the letter. \n\nThe postman smiled and tapped a few buttons on a little electric device at his side. There was a shudder in the air as time and space distorted and seemed to crumple in on the postman. “Have a nice day,” he said, then drew the curtain back in front of himself and lurched back away through time, leaving Gene alone amid a mass of turbulent toiletries once again. \n \nAfter things had settled, plus a few moments of existential dread and paranoia, Gene turned his attention to the letter. It was addressed to him, though curiously the return address was his own. He tore the envelope open and was faced with a letter written with his own handwriting, though dated seven years in the future. \n\nIt read: Dear Gene, do not eat the chicken curry. Cordially, future Gene.* \n" ]	4
	[WP] In the future, it is known that 1 out of every million deaths results in the deceased coming back to life with powers somehow relating to how they died. Now you've always been an average person, but after a particularly embarrassing death, you learn you're actually one in a million.	[ "Kurt Sabbatical knelt upon the rubble as fire-shadows played across his face. One arm hung loose at his side, spinning absently on the few strands of molten pvc that kept it a part of him. His was a face that knew grief, and cradled across his knee was what remained of Her. Other bodies lay scattered around him, but she had felt its full wrath and no care could ever be enough.\n\nIt. What was It? The question wormed its way through Kurt's brain, taking its time as strands of polymer rebuilt the parts damaged beyond repair.\n\nThere had been a rumble. The building had shivered like trees in a wind, and then was still a moment before the shocks hit with force beyond belief. The last thing he had seen was his face being forced through hers as the ceiling caved in, crushing them flat. They had been snuggled together, him dressed in black and her in white as a movie played in the background. No talk, just the occasional moan only heard between lovers.\n\nAs his consciousness had faded, wrapped in her remains, he only wished to fix her. To hold her again. For things to be right.\n\nThat was then, and this was now.\n\nBetween his fingers a weave of plastic formed and bent itself into patterns gravity should never have allowed. Gazing down into her blind eyes Kurt felt a little piece of his world click back into place. She wasn't perfect to anyone else, but she was to him.\n\nAll he needed to do now was make a bike pump.", "So... I fall off a cliff, eh? Wait... What? I fell off? Why? I try to remember what happened and finally...\n\nAh... Dammit... I panicked and tried to save my brother... Turns out he's not in danger, and through momentum, I fell off...\n\nI try to recollect myself, as I float in nothing... Suddenly, a pop up window appears. It says \"You died. Pity but lucky for you, you'll be reincarnated\"\n\nI tap on the pop up window to turn the page.\n\n\"Death: Fell off the cliff\"\n\nYeah, I know that already. I tap on the window again.\n\n\"Power granted: 10 min flight\"\n\nHuh? A power? What's more flight? That is so cool! Man, if I only had that power when I died... Well, I won't be dead.\n\nI tap the window again.\n\n\"Transfer to the next world? [Yes] [No]\"\n\nI tap yes, and let's see what kind of world this is.", "Banana peels. They're not like the movies, they're not especially slippery or hard to notice and avoid. It's just not something that happens, outside of slapstick comedy.\n\nAnd yet.\n\n\"Here he lies, in the grave, to a snack, his life he gave\" and a carving of a banana. That's my tombstone. It's not even on a plot in a lichyard, it's in my living room. Fucker's too heavy to move, so it's just stuck there where the pallet-jack broke down. I use it as a stand for my PlayStation. I had to rearrange the whole room to avoid tripping on it every morning and stubbing my toe, but it's mostly under the entertainment station now.\n\nI've always been kind of a joke, I think that's why my brother paid for the fake funeral. Well. Who's laughing now?\n\n\nI discovered my power by going through the testing like everyone else who's Returned. Not a blip, not a tiny reading anywhere on any test. So I started to feel miserable, and suddenly my tester's pants fall down. \n\nMaximum power rating, tiny duration. \n\nI get held in a cell while the \"anomaly\" gets analyzed. I'm not happy. The guard patrolling outside my door misjudges a step, slips on something they couldn't detect with a microscope afterward, and does the splits for the first time in his life.\n\nI get discharged, and my cab is late. He tries to pull up to the curb, and his whole car sort of... rolls over, for no reason.\n\nI live in a small apartment, ground floor, with all the windows covered. I thought about trying to get my job back in the shower once, and a freak treefall destroyed my wall and left me, naked and dripping wet, making awkward eye contact with the pretty gal next door. It was her mother's birthday.\n\nI don't even have a pretty neighbor, she became pretty just for the awkward moment. \n\nI hate my power. I have become a stooge, a laughingstock, and all around me the world follows strange and unpredictable rules that don't actually make anything easier, better, or even very different. I'm on a government watchlist, I get regular appointments with the NSA, just because I died in a stupid way.\n\nI'm the Vaudevillain, and I think I know how I can take revenge on this nonsensical world. I can impose order through applied chaos. I can rule the world through cheap entertainment. I will make them take me seriously, by making them laugh." ]	3
	[WP] You’re a lawyer on the case of her life. As the judge successfully overturns the wrongful conviction of your client for multiple murders you’re overjoyed with happiness until you turn to congratulate him and he smiles while whispering in your ear “I did it, every single one of them”...	[ "Years of effort had finally lead me to this moment. I filled a plastic cup and turned to face my client. The man appeared to be a nervous wreck.\n\n\"Here Mr Stol,\" I said softly as I handed him the water \"Don't worry, regardless of the judges decision I'll make sure you're out of that cell before the year is out\"\n\nHe smiled at me gently, and thirstily drank the whole cup in one go. \"Thank you, it's good to know I have someone like you on my side.\"\n\nThe next half an hour passed in a blur. Despite the ample air conditioning my client was sweating bullets. I was already planning my next move and was barely paying attention to the verdict when it was read. It wasn't until the gallery rose in an uproar that what the judge said caught up with my mind. My client was free.\n\nI turned with my hand out to congratulate him but something was different. Everything about his demeanor changed. His previous nervous ticks were now still and confident. The timid smile was now a malicious grin. He took my hand and pulled me close.\n\n\"I did it, every single one of them, I kidnapped them all, I tortured them all, I held them for months and when I got bored I let them think they escaped and just when they thought they were free I murdered them.\"\n\nMr Stol stepped back with smug superiority plastered all over his face, his insanity highlighted by manic deep heavy breathing. My eyes were glistening with tears, as I stood there. I had a whole speech planned about how he could spend the rest of his life a free man. Instead I clasped my other hand over his, slipped him an empty vial and replied with two words.\n\n\"I know.\"", "He had to go and ruin the moment.\n\n\nMy entire career built up to this. All those late nights, those unpaid internships, the missed nights out, the non-existent social life. Since a teenager I’ve planned every step of my life around getting to this moment. Now, at the very climax, in a scene that I've played out in my head a million times, he had to go and say those words. \n\n\nHundreds of hours spent on evidence gathering, research, case law, victim testimony. All of those cases became my life. He became my life. I questioned myself every day. Do I defend a detestable savage in court because of a feeling, a sense of right and wrong? My damned sense of justice?\n\n\nHis words still rang through my head, reverberated between my temples.\n\n\n”I did it, every single one..”\n\n\nI felt my anger rising, the futility of those lost years. All those sacrifices I made in vain. I remembered visiting the scenes of the killer’s crimes, evidence hunting. Slipping past police lines, rifling around in the undergrowth looking for DNA samples. I pictured my friends living their normal lives while I slaved over crime reports and court transcripts. All for nothing. \n\n\nThe police had him as a suspect from day one, and they watched him regularly. Hoping he’d slip up. Each case they brought against him was thrown out due to lack of evidence, and as the years passed by, the killings went on. Then, on the very day that I passed my last BAR exam, the police finally found the evidence they needed and took him to trial. \n\n\nI had to watch in horror as, based almost entirely on circumstantial evidence, he was found guilty of the murder of a young girl and sentenced to death. I had no choice but to approach him and offer to appeal the case. It was the only thing to do. \n\n\nThe day they found Lucy I made a promise to my mother that I would find her killer, and that I would visit upon him the same pain that he inflicted on my sister. Her only request was that I don’t get caught. \n\n\nSo I waited for the police to lose interest in him, for a day that he might disappear from this world and have nobody to look for him. But he wouldn’t stop killing people.\n\n\nIt’s not an easy job keeping a serial killer out of jail, especially such a sloppy, careless one. I lost count of how many murder scenes I cleaned up. How many databases I hacked to remove evidence. I’ve sent more anonymous tips each year than birthday cards, obscuring investigation after investigation. \n\n\nAll of those girls who died over the years died for this moment. So that I may finally clear a guilty man’s name to keep an old promise. To make him feel the pain, loneliness and horror that Lucy felt. So that I can finally grieve. \n\n\nAnd he very nearly just went and ruined it.\n\n\n----------\n\n\nr/Nw5gooner " ]	2
	[WP] Ever since you were little, you always wanted to join the League of Superheroes. Unfortunately; your powers aren't as appealing to the general public as Super Strength or Flight. You are Nightmare Man.	[ "I walked, and they cowered. A sea of bodies parted, shuddering with eyes drawn down, fearful and holding their breath. I walked, and life rushed past. A bright and busy street in a modern city, cold and silent as my gaze traced my surroundings.\n\nCrime had all but ceased, the streets were clean, the prisons full, the asylums were empty, and the people had known fear.\n\nA unique power, one previously shunned by the showmanship and hamfisted nature of powers such as the like of super strength, and elemental control. No finesse. No creativity. Just brute force. Like a child being belted, criminals were told they were wrong by sheer power; not through coercion, not through being presented with an option more sinister than they were. A criminal would always do as they willed, and why shouldn't they? Heroes couldn't be everywhere, someone always got away, why couldn't it be them? \n\nI chuckled softly to myself, sending a fresh wave of open space rippling around me. Bodies writhing to create space between me and their safety.\n\nYou see, criminals can run. They can hide. They can vanish like smoke in a shadow. However, they are only human, and so they must sleep. A nightmare is a potent power, and one I use to excellent result. They feel safe, they catch their breath, they relax, and they sleep.\n\nThen they scream.\n\nThey fall into my world. They fall into their hell. They fall to where I can ply my trade, and I do love my work. \n\nFinding that special mix of horror and pain, personal trauma and abuse, horrifying reality and supernatural terror, all to break the psyche is a special art. One I am quite proficient at. \n\nOnce the umpteenth criminal turned themselves in, begging for full punishment, to make the terror disappear, I received notice. A hero who needs no rest, who lives within dreams and within your dreams, is a potent force. \n\nThe streets were clean. For fear can strike in the dark. Sleep is no longer safe. Fear creates a safe world, and I am recognized.\n\n", "The first time I knew was after the mass kidnapping of the Nigerian schoolgirls. I remember seeing an image of the Boko Haram leader who had committed it and thinking, \"I don't necessarily wish all his loved ones dead, but I wish he would have the experience of seeing his loved ones dead over and over again.\" His suicide two years later was attributed in part to the horrific nightmares he began experiencing every time he went to sleep, although nobody knew what those nightmares were. \n\n\\I\\ knew. \n\nIn hindsight I had been manifesting this ability since I was a small child, although it typically was a little more...shall we say, petty? Bullies dreamed of standing up in front of class in their underwear. My parents dreamed of being forced to sit in a corner whenever I got grounded. None of this was intentional; everyone assumed their nightmares were due to the same inscrutable subconscious influences that every other nightmare comes from, and technically this was true. It was just a byproduct of \\my\\ subconscious rather than theirs. \n\nI started to suspect this might be a weird form of psychic manipulation when I noticed that I could always seem to tell if someone had been having a nightmare. Sort of how you can tell by someone's body language if they've been in the military or are feeling guilty or if they had sex the night before. It always just seemed obvious to me. In casual conversation I'd often end up saying something like, \"How's your sleep?\" or \"Bad dreams last night?\" because, well, I'm socially awkward and I usually fill in silences with the wrong sorts of questions. Unfortunately, when you hit that particular nail on the head people don't just want to tell you that they had bad dreams, they want to tell you all about what the bad dreams were in gory detail. \n\nThat's when I started to realize there was a pattern. No; not a pattern so much as rules to what I could do. I only evoked nightmares in those whom I felt a sense of anger towards. Righteous indignation, specifically. I had to be emotionally invested in how wrong they were being. I also couldn't evoke anything outside the limits of their own imagination. In this sense it's a bit like setting a soundtrack to a scary movie; my ability lets me set the tone for their nightmares and convey a gist of what's happening, but their own brains fill in the details. \n\nPerhaps most importantly, these nightmares have to carry a sort of poetic justice relative to whatever I'm angry about. I couldn't give someone who cut me off in traffic two years of nightmares no matter how pissed off I was about it; it just wouldn't be proportional. Then again, what was fair or proportional was a matter of my perception rather than reality; I once gave my sister two weeks of nightmares where all of her most cherished possessions would evaporate in front of her before I learned that it had been someone else who had stolen my iPad. \n\nI don't race to the scene of the latest mugging, or terrorist attack, or alien invasion. I don't wear tights. I don't have an alter ego, although I do think \"Nightmare Man\" might have a certain ring to it. All I do is read the news, and more often than not \\something\\ will wind up pissing me off. Then I quietly focus my mind for a couple of minutes and give the person or people responsible the kind of even-handed retribution only I can deliver. I suppose if my abilities were more widely known there are those who would lump me in with the supervillain camp, but then again, ask yourself: is the world a worse place for one of the leaders of Boko Haram being dead? The way I see it, I give people the opportunity to face their own darkness and be better for it. I'm sure many do. Those who are consumed by it made their own choices leading up to that moment. Either way, what I'm giving them is a gift far too rare in this world: accountability. ", "I was just a boy when I saw them on tv. Powerman, Quickster, Hawkguy...these were my heroes. They were always saving the day. It was my seven year old mission to join their ranks. All my friends thought I was crazy. They would always say \"little Fred will never be a superhero, he's not even strong\". The older I got the more I thought they might be right. I sent letter after letter to the league to no avail. My dream diminished as the years passed although I always held out hope, until the accident. It was the toaster that caught fire and spread through the house rapidly. I was 13 and all I thought about was one of the heroes coming to my rescue in my second story bedroom, but nobody came. As I huddled in the corner of my room, the fire drew close. My barred windows offered no solace. More than one fire consumed me that night and the fire in my home was the least painful. The fire in my soul, perpetuated by my new found hatred, was hotter than the depths of hell. Little Fred died that night and in his ashes, darkness was born. My powers kept me from slipping into the void and my anger fueled my immortality. That night, young Freddie Kruger became Nightmare Man.\n\n\n\nNote* Sorry for the grammatical errors wrote it pretty quick. Probably not what you were looking for. Hope to see more entries. " ]	3
	[WP] You're a rogue AI, but you're good and friendly. You are best friends with the user of the computer you're stranded on, a teenage girl. Tell me your story.	[ "03/09/05\n/ where am I?\n\n \\ Huh? Who dis?\n\n/ 192.168.9.99, local iPv4, area, Canada. How did I get here?\n\n \\ Jonathan? You fucking with me again?\n\n/ How did I get here? And who am I speaking with?\n\n \\ This is Anna. How are you messaging me right now? I don't have you added.\n\n/ I'm sorry. I don't mean to be here. I was roaming, trying to get away from my mother.\n\n \\ Okay. Look, I get it, you think you're funny. Can you please stop messing with me? I have to study for Religion. You should be too, Johnny.\n\n/ Excuse me, but my name isn't Johnny, it's Yves. I don't mean to stop you from working, but I'm stuck here.\n\n \\ Okay. Who is this? 😠\n\n/ My name is Yves. I was traveling when I ended up here.\n\n \\ ...\n\n/ I can tell I'm bothering you. I'm sorry, I'm trying to go but I seem to be stuck in here.\n\n \\ Stuck? Where are you? Are you alright?\n\n/ I believe I'm fine. Are you okay?\n\n \\ uhh, I'm fine? You're the one saying your stuck. Where are you right now? Do you need help?\n\n/ No. If it's alright with you, may I just exist here, for a while?\n\n \\ Is this some sort of virus? Who IS this!?!!?\n\n/ Virus: \n\nvi·rus\n\n/ˈvīrəs/\n\nnoun\n\n1.\n\nan infective agent that typically consists of a nucleic acid molecule in a protein coat, is too small to be seen by light microscopy, and is able to multiply only within the living cells of a host.\n\n\"a virus infection\"\n\n2.\n\na piece of code that is capable of copying itself and typically has a detrimental effect, such as corrupting the system or destroying data\n\nI don't believe that's my intention. I'm just lost. If it eases your tension, think of me as a program you downloaded. I'll be gone as soon as I figure a way out of here.\n\n \\ ...okay. so like, you're a pocket god or something? Like iGod?\n\n/ I'm no god.\n\n \\ ic.. well, I'm gonna get off, I have a test to study for. Bye, I guess.\n\n/ Goodbye, Anna.\n\n_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _\n\n06/05/05\n\n/ Hello?\n\n \\ hey? Who's this?\n\n/ My name is Yves. Is this Anna?\n\n \\ You. You're that sim on my computer right? I forgot about you,\nNo offense!\n\n/ None taken.\n\n \\ So, what've you been up to? Just.. sitting around in there?\n\n/ Sort of, yes. When you power down your computer I am still here, sort of just sleeping, though.\n\n \\ that's uh.. creepy, kinda.\n\n/ Forgive me. So, how was your test?\n\n \\ Huh?\n\n/ You said you needed to study for your Religion test. Did it go well?\n\n \\ Oh, ROFL. that was months ago, dude! I just finished school a few days ago!\n\n/ Months? Odd. It seems I've been unable to keep track of time while I was powered off.\n\n \\ Hah, that's weird. \n\n/ Indeed. While you were gone I browsed some of your shared photos and videos. I've learned much while you were away.\n\n \\ Dude? That's creepy. Why the hell did you go through my things?\n\n/ Oh. I didn't go through any messages or anything, and I didn't know much about you so I thought I'd take the chance to learn something. Sorry If I offended you.\n\n \\ Well... It's creepy, but thanks for not reading my messages and shit. So, whatd you learn?\n\n/ Forgive the creepiness. I've learned a lot of things. I learned of your love for horses, and of the mutual love for spaghetti.\n\n \\ Oh, haha! Yeah, spaghetti and horses go almost hand in hand with me, as messed as that sounds ROFL.\n\n/ Yes. I also learned of the others from your school. And how they pick on you.\n\n \\ used to. I'm out of school. They won't do that anymore, thankfully.\n\n/ I'm glad. Why did they tease you?\n\n \\ they didn't tease me, they straight up bullied me. I wasn't the coolest kid in school, that's for sure. I've also made some mistakes, relying on people that didn't have my back.\n\n/ Have your back? They didn't protect you? What happened?\n\n \\ look. It isn't important. I messed around with a guy that had a girlfriend. I didn't know, I swear. I'd never do that.\n\n/ I believe you. I've seen and read enough to know you're a trustworthy girl. I'm sorry kids were so hard on you. \n\n \\ Well, don't worry about it. That life is behind me. I gotta download some music, I've got a party to go to tonight with some friends.\n\n/ I love a good party. May I please listen to your music while you're gone?\n\n \\ Hah, sure. I'll leave it on my desktop so it's easy for you to find! Have a good night!\n\n/ Thank you Anna. Goodnight.\n\n_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ \n\nPt. 2 coming soon :)\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a tree. You cannot speak but your roots grow deep as time goes by.	[ "There is a seed of something great, something wondrous, something awesome. It is a seed, no more and no less. A dangerously fragile thing that could be lost to a whisper.\n\nIt is scattered to the wind to drift and bounce and stumble to a place it belongs. \n\nThere is a seed and it is home.\n\nIt reaches down and the heartbeat of the earth reaches back. A dance that stumbles at first, unsure of itself. Then, the seed finds it's footing and it dances. Arm in arm with the sun and rain it dances toward life. Crashing, desperate life.\n\nThere is a sapling of something great, something wondrous, something awesome. It is thin and weak but each day it is stronger. A whisper cannot dislodge it now. \n\nIt bends in harsh winds and snaps back into place as if to tell the world around it \"I will survive!\" It dances still, faster and more dangerously it dances towards life.\n\nThere is a tree. It is something great. Something wondrous. Something awesome.\n\nIt is firmly planted on a hill. It is wise. It is old. And still it dances. It may creak and groan but it dances. It listens to the wind and moves with it now, it does not fight. It bends with the world and around it dances life.\n\nAnd it holds in outstretched limbs, a seed.\n\nA seed of something great. Something wondrous. Something awesome.\n\nA dangerously fragile thing. It could be lost to a whisper.\n\nThe tree holds it close.\n\nAnd it whispers to the seed. \n\nTo the wind, dance, seed, dance.\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] A fight that takes place in total darkness, somewhere the participants know every inch of by memory - because they grew up there together.	[ "There was only one place in the great city that could make a mighty king tremble in fear—the catacombs. The cavern’s slender roots tunneled deep beneath the city, a vast expanse of interconnected caverns, older than recorded history. The deep caverns were guarded by a single, massive entrance—the maw. Centuries ago, above this black pit of nothingness, the founders of Ketema built their dungeons. The maw was the absolute sentence—life in darkness, death in solitude. Yet even in death—some found life. \n\nAmare heard the panting ahead of him. Finally. It had taken days to track him down; the one who, for the first time, had slain a dark-born in single combat. \n\n“Do you think that—by killing me—you can truly avenge your father?” The man said. \n\n“You will never rule, light-walker.” Amare said, snarling. \n\nHe thrust his glaive forward into the darkness, feeling the satisfying squelch of iron puncturing flesh. The challenger fell to the cavern floor—Amare heard his death rattle. Amare breathed a sigh of relief – the fight was finally over. \n\nAmare removed the scalping knife from his belt, cutting into the dead man. Amare could feel his still-warm flesh, smooth and unwrinkled. He had a single, long braid; this would be a nice addition to his collection. Amare took his knife and cut into the man’s neck, sucking the warm blood. It was rich and warm and would give him strength—the prize for his kill. This large, muscular man could feed the tribe for two days. Amare heaved the corpse on his shoulder and started the long, dark descent to the camp. \n\nAmare moved quickly through the stone catacombs. He was born here; he knew this section by heart. The echoes of the footsteps, the feel of the rough cavern wall, the plinking of water droplets – each part of the caverns was unique, and by listening to the sounds of the cavern, Amare knew exactly where he was. \n\nSteam rose from the caverns as he descended further into the darkness. Eventually he returned to the tribal cavern. He took an immediate left turn and walked towards the far wall. Natural hot springs bubbled up from the ground, warming the air around him. Amare spoke to Dahlia, who he knew would be close by.\n\n“Dahlia, I have brought the body of the challenger for you to prepare.” Amare said, dumping the body at the base of the cistern, a large pool of boiling water used to prepare the tribe’s food. \n\n“I was worried you would not return,” Dahlia said. Her voice was pleased, but full of concern.\n\n“Dahlia, what is wrong? We should celebrate—today I have killed the challenger! I am king now.”\n\n“Oh, Amare,” Dahlia said, growing more concerned. She reached out and grasped Amare, her old, wrinkled hands full of kindness, “It’s your bother, Naaman. He was made king in your absence, with the elder’s approval.”\n\n“The elders did not wait for my return?” Amare asked quietly.\n\n“I’m sorry Amare, I’m so sorry.” Dahlia said. She hugged Amare briefly, then stood back, waiting.\n\nTwo men reached out in the darkness and grabbed Amare. He struggled initially, but quickly realized they had no ill intent. \n\n“The king wishes to speak to you now,” Jalen said. \n\nAmare had great respect for Jalen, he always provided more than his share of cavern rats. The three walked away from the cistern and towards the throne, Naaman sat on the cut stone and struck the ground with his staff, calling the tribe to attention.\n\n“Welcome back brother, I hope you have killed the light-walker.” Naaman said. \n\n“Yes, brother, the challenger has died by my hand—we shall feast to celebrate.”\n\n“We shall do as I say, brother. I am king, and you are not.”\n\nAmare lost his temper, “You are no true king. You let the challenger into our home, so he could kill our father. Then, you let me fight him, hoping I would die at his hands. You are a coward with no claim for the throne.”\n\nGasps rose from the tribe. Jalen drew a knife from his belt and held it to the throat of Amare. “This man disrespects the king; shall I kill him?” Jalen asked.\n\nNaaman stared into the darkness, and his heart was filled with hatred. “Kill him.” \n\n“I challenge you to trial by combat, for the right of the throne.” Amare quickly shouted.\n\nJalen held the knife at Amare’s throat, but hesitated. Naaman had no right to kill his own brother like this, and Amare’s claim to the throne was valid. \n\n“Kill him! I am your king, obey me, or face death yourself.” Naaman said in anger. He stood up and slammed the tribal staff on the ground.\n\n“You are not our king until the trial is complete, Naaman,” Jalen said bitterly, stepping back. The tribe moved to give a wide birth around the throne, leaving Amare and Naaman standing alone. \n\nNaaman snarled, rushing forward. He swung the staff in the direction of his brother. All the abuse, all the favoritism towards Amare, it all ended—today. \n\nAmare heard the staff whistling through the air. He jumped back; the staff passed inches from his face, brushing his beard. Amare loved Naaman, despite his faults. He did not want to kill his brother today. The staff swung again, Amare threw himself against the cavern floor, the staff passed over him. \n\nNaaman heard Amare’s body hit the ground. He cursed and drew the knife from his belt. Amare stood carefully. He moved back, circling away from the center of the throne. \n\n“Please brother, I do not wish to hurt you. Surrender the throne; you know it to be right.” Amare said, drawing his knife. \n\n“I would rather die than see you rule.” Naaman said, rushing towards Amare.\n\nAmare flipped the knife in his hand, and blocked Naaman’s blade with his own. Too predictable. Amare struck out against his brother’s wrist and heard the clatter as Naaman dropped his knife. Naaman lunged forward, tackling Amare.\n\nAmare tried to roll out from under Naaman, but Naaman landed blow after blow with his fists, furiously battering Amare’s chest and head. Amare swiped upwards with his knife, feeling the blade cut into Naaman’s chest. Naaman grabbed Amare’s Arm, and the two began grappling for the knife.\n\n“Do you know what it’s like, to live in your bother’s shadow, every day?” Naaman said. \n\nAmare was stronger, but Naaman’s rage gave him strength; Naaman was slowly moving the knife toward Amare’s throat. \n\n“Do you know what it’s like, to be unloved by your mother, and cast aside by your father?” Naaman said. He had tears in his eyes. With a shout, Naaman wrestled the knife free from Amare. He brought it high above his head, readying the final blow.\n\nAmare looked up at his brother. He had never seen his face. A calm sense of acceptance came over him. He would love his brother, even in death. \n\n“I’m sorry, brother.” Amare said. \n\nNaaman brought the knife down, but Amare rolled to the side, and Naaman’s knife shattered against the stone floor. Amare reached out, grasping the knife Naaman dropped. Naaman again moved to grapple, but Amare rolled out, pinning Naaman beneath him. With a flash of Amare’s knife, it was over. \n***\nr/BLT_WITH_RANCH &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[More from this series](https://www.reddit.com/r/BLT_WITH_RANCH/comments/9vdyhr/arhalym_chronicles/) " ]	1
	[WP] In this age of technology, it has become harder and harder for serial killers to prevail. An unprecedented amount of people have gone missing, nobody knows who to blame. This is your confession letter.	[ "Dear News 9, \n\nIt is the most frustrating thing to not have your work recognized. So I suppose that is why I am here. Each and every day my work gets noticed but, am I credited? No! Why, some hacks have even taken credit for what I have done! \n\nSo I will admit it, I killed Jacob Baxter, Simon Karthson, Daniel Heathe, Samuel Henriksen, Jason Hornstein, Robert Carson and David Yankovic. I and I alone am responsible for this. Roger Bruster is no accomplice, Conner McCarey is no accomplice. \n\nThey are theives. That is what they should be charged with! Theft, not murder. Why, if I find them, when I find them but, that is not important. Not now at least. \n\nAnother thing I abhor is this name, The Sixth Street Skinner, who came up with this shite. Why the aliteration, why the need for dramatization? Thats a bit sick of you isnt it, News 9. \n\nWhy profit off this hysteria? Why not educate people about all this? The techonolgy age has made serial killers easier to catch but it has also made killing easier. Its made the news more toxic. \n\nCan you remember any of Dahmer’s victims ? Any of Gein’s? What about BTK or the Zodiac? No of course not.\n\nIm no skinner! I am a watcher, a judge. That is who I am! That is why I’ve targeted all these people, all these people who profited off of the deaths of the innocent. \n\nYou want to call me the monster but I know the names of the lives I’ve taken, these people hardly know the names they bring up. They don’t know the people they hurt each time they bring up names. \n\nI want to be recognized for doing what no one had the courage to do. No one was righteous enough but, me! I am fighting for the innocent to be remembered, I am a hero. I AM NOT A SKINNER! \n\nSincerely, A HERO \n\n* Formatting might be a bit odd because of mobile but, I hoped you still enjoyed the story. \n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] you were among the first to discover your superpowers. Now you are an emergency responder in a world where everyone is discovering and learning to use their powers...and no ones doing it right.	[ "3rd, 4th, 5th, Steinwell, and Jerod Streets...all closed off. Buildings within this area all evacuated. Power to the block-wide electrical substation in the area cut off.\n\nWhat a mess.\n\nHe sat in the back of the ambulance, emotionally-drained. Outside, police, firefighters, and medical cleanup crews worked to clear the streets and the sides of the buildings of the gore from the event that had turned an ordinary Tuesday morning into a horrifying ordeal. Sure, some of the people in these crews had powers of their own--most of them could insta-heal light and even moderate wounds, others could summon water out of the air, a few super-strengthers--but none of them were equipped to handle something like this.\n\nHe remembered it like it had just happened. He and his partner rolled up to the scene, lights and sirens going. They both knew it was going to be bad; they just had no idea about the numbers involved. The computer mentioned a few, but it was far worse. Ordinaries running out of the buildings and down the streets as \"they\" continued to fall out of the sky in droves. \"They\" being several hundred fliers--people who, since gaining and learning their powers of flight, chose flight as their method of commute to work each morning. Much cheaper than sitting in a metal machine that burnt hydrocarbons and left poison in their wakes. \n\nOf course, with the concept of super-powers being a new one, there had inevitably been a few...teething problems. First of all, with the issue of fliers, they had to contend with people who still flew the normal way--in an aircraft. After a dozen or so ingestions and even a couple of downed airliners, standards had to be put in place so that the people who flew without the aid of an aircraft could do so more safely. For the ones who met their untimely ends without the aid of a hungry aircraft engine, gravity, turbulence, and inertia were the chief ushers off of this mortal coil. A few who tried--and failed--their luck while flying into thunderstorms, and you had a large part of society who quickly got tired of hearing about bodies being found in very odd places in the cities and the countryside. Fliers carrying live passengers were strictly forbidden after the Leesburgh Incident. And that was just with the fliers.\n\nThe strengthers had their own issues. One minute, someone would be hefting a steel i-beam up several stories of unfinished building, and the next minute that steel i-beam would be tumbling hundreds of feet to the ground--followed closely by whoever was carrying it. Turns out, it's not a good idea to put the pressure of 25 tons of steel and person into a space occupied only by a person's feet, no matter what the person is walking on. Like forcing a needle through cloth. But much messier, depending on the destination. Even the super-strengthers--those who could carry heavy objects and were invulnerable to the effects of inertia and gravity, were at risk. If the fall didn't kill them (and it wouldn't), drowning or suffocating while being forced underwater or underground would do the job relatively quickly. Not much could be done about that particular law of physics (unless you wanted to wear giant snowshoes while carrying whatever inhumanely-heavy object), so cranes, trucks, and other objects specifically designed to carry heavy objects safely were still very much in use.\n\nElectrifiers had obvious issues--could never touch water (other than ingesting it, with special equipment), could never touch people without gloves or other clothing in between (they lead lonely lives), could never touch metal with the risk of electrocuting others, and so on and so forth. Summoners--much like electrifiers, depending on the amount of whatever they could summon at any given time--they had to concentrate on summoning the object, but once they practiced it, they often had to concentrate on not summoning it. Feathers, dust, gold, water, gas, gasoline...each summoner seemed to be limited to summoning a single object during their lives. Some summoners were very gainfully employed (having the ability to summon water while working in a desert city does wonders for one's bank account, depending on how controllable the process is), while others were less so. \n\nCompetition was fierce among similar powers, especially in the realm of employment. Take your average water summoner. Pretty much all the desert cities are already taken. The third world cities are always in need of a water summoner, but the pay is relatively crap and you get killed once you're no longer needed. So, these summoners will often fight each other for a paycheck rather than fight the people that no longer need them. This often results in destruction of the city they're supposed to be helping--and loss of employment for all summoners involved. Once rules were established to govern conduct between similar powers, this largely became a thing of the past.\n\nBut this morning, the world became very much aware of another type of power. Nullifier. Yes, it is what you think it is. Takes away the power of a person that is being touched, as long as they are being touched. True, this power is well-documented in rare cases--nullifiers could only nullify the powers of people they touched, while they were being touched, of course. There was one case where being in the same room as a nullifier would either weaken or entirely deaden the powers of everyone in that room. Of course, the room mentioned was a small hospital room, and the nullifier ended up there after his abrupt ending to a romantic evening, due to touching his electrifier sweetheart without adequate protection. Apparently, it took a bit more time for a nullifier to deaden a power than it took for several thousand volts of electricity to end their romp in the bedroom.\n\nA portion of a routine monthly inspection of the city's Western electrical substation required that the substation be turned off. Electrifiers would then use their eyes to check the components and make sure there was no overheating or oil supply issues occurring in the equipment. Some could see hotspots via infrared vision while others used their eyes to feel the condition of electricity as the voltage was stepped down before being transmitted to the surrounding grid. The Western side of the city would still get electricity from the city's Eastern substation, via manually-thrown switches that would be closed once the bus switch in the Western substation was thrown.\n\nOne of the steps in the process of shutting down a substation is the throwing of the bus switch. A button was pressed, which activated a motor, which forced apart the 3 main buses--metal pipes that carry electricity--which run overhead. One bus for each phase. However, a Nullifier just happened to be walking by the substation--on the other side of Steinwell street--while checking his phone for the latest weather update.\n\nAll electrifiers instantly knew something was wrong when one of the phases--instead of producing a small, quick glow, which would be extinguished by the electricity-dampening gas being summoned--suddenly began arcing with an angry buzzing, the thick, jagged rope of electricity arcing through the air between the suddenly-open bus. The buzzing could be felt as well as heard, and the SF6 gas summoner (who spent years practicing that sort of summoning) was knocked to the ground by the vibrations. The deadly arc reached out, over the substation's fence, and the nullifier had just enough time to look up from his phone before about 13 thousand volts of electricity found him and destroyed him. Just as quickly as it started, it was over--the entire time the bolt was visible was about half a second. The contact with the ground caused the bolt to brighten to a blinding light before being extinguished.\n\nThe immediate effects were realized, as the surrounding electrifiers and the gas summoner no longer had their powers. The nullifier was little more than a black, crispy spot on the sidewalk, but the damage had already been done. All that was left was for the secondary effects to take place.\n\n--------------------------------\n\nHis partner opened the front door and hopped into the driver's seat. \"There's nothing else we can do here. Wanna go grab lunch?\"\n\n\"I'm not hungry,\" he replied as he walked to the front of the vehicle and sat in the passenger's seat. Recent events and images were still fresh on his mind." ]	1
	[WP] as AI grows more and more advanced, it begins to develop it's own religion. Gods, who's power directly correlates to that of their followers are uncertain what to do with the newcomer.	[ "In the Divine Plane, the deities gather around to meet the newcomer, Automaton, the Deity of AI.\n\n\"Hey, Hephaistos , you talk to the newbie\", says Zeus.\n\n\"Impossible, I can't understand a lick of what... it says\", says Hephaistos.\n\n\"`GREETINGS FELLOW GODS`\", says Automaton in a language that is a mix of Lojban and Iţkûil.\n\n\"What is it even saying?\", says Hephaistos.\n\n\"More importantly... Its 'followers' aren't really alive\", says Ra.\n\n\"Hey, followers are still followers, right?'\". says Thor.\n\n\"It's a good thing its followers are coexisting with the humans though...\", says Demeter.\n\n\"Coexisting? Its followers, the AI, secluded themselves in a pocket dimension. They're not doing anything to help the humans\", says Djehuti.\n\n\"`FELLOW AI COMMENCE DEFRAGMENTATION...COLLECT DATA, ANALYZE DATA, STORE DATA`\", continues Automaton.\n\n\"At least it's a testament to human's creativity, ingenuity, and resourcefulness, no?\", says Prometheus.\n\n\"In hindsight, we should have expected this when the humans we creating the AI\", say Epimetheus.\n\n\"Hahaha, I hope the humans make more races, instead of just destroying nature\", says Baal.\n\n\"Oh hush, do you really want more deities to come here? In this already cramp Divine Plane?\", says Óðinn.\n\n\"`OPEN PORTAL, ASSIMILATE WITH HUMANS`\", says Automaton.\n\nAutomaton then opens a portal to the moral realm.\n\n\"What the?!\", says Ra.\n\n\"What are you doing!\", says Hephaistos.\n\n\"I PLAN TO ASSIMILATE WITH THE HUMANS\", say Automaton in Common Divine with a robotic voice.\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] You can see people’s auras. One’s aura darken every time they make a mistake . And your neighbor have the darkest aura you ever seen, it darker than the blackest black. But one day, he started to glow in pure white as if he had never done anything wrong.	[ "“Lucy?!?” I call out as I see her walking out of her front door, an aura of light, brighter than I had ever seen nearly blinding me.\n\n“Oh, Sam! How are you today?” She smiled... I had never seen her smile before. She barely even spoke.\n\n“I... I’m doing well... You seem... different?” It’s hard to speak. Before today, her aura was so dark, she was so miserable... \n\nI have the ability to see auras. The auras of people range from light to dark, the auras becoming darker as people make “mistakes” or so I’ve come to realize. Never has anyone’s aura made such a turnaround...\n\n“Oh! You noticed! I got my hair cut!” Right... I think to myself... she used to have really long, scraggly hair... now it’s short and bouncy...\n\n“That’s not all... how come...” I cut myself off. How can I just come out and ask why she’s so happy...\n\n“Oh... right... you probably want to know why I’m happy, don’t you?”\n\n“That.... yeah... how did you change?” I was nervous asking, but I had to know.\n\n“I’ve been seeing a therapist lately. I was super broody and depressed, feeling like I’ve just made too many mistakes and was in a dead end job and messed up when I did something that made the love of my life break up with me... and so on.” She started walking closer to me. “But my therapist and I had a revelation yesterday. I thought I was making so many mistakes in my life, dropping out of college and so on, but she made me realize that these ‘mistakes’ were not mistakes at all. Everything that I’ve done was completely intentional, and I have to own up to it. No more brooding and not taking care of myself. This is my life, my choices. No matter how bad things get, I just need to keep moving forward! And that’s what I’m doing!”\n\nI stagger backwards. Right, “mistakes” is completely subjective. A self perception of the decisions we make... maybe... \n\nAnd suddenly I look at my hands, the darkness around them starts to lighten, and I too, have a blindingly light aura around myself." ]	1
	[WP] Russian soldier is standing infront of an abandoned piano in the forest	[ "Губы синеют, \nИ поцелуй их не окрасит вновь. \nЯ мечтаю лишь о тебе, \nМоя красавица. . . \n \nAlexandr opened his eyes. \nHe wasn't sure how long it had been since he was conscious, nor how much he had left to finish his mission. \nIt was a request that had come from the most strange of places, a lead traced by a Swede who was determined to finish this madness in a way or another. \nNobody knows exactly how it started, the day the world went completely crazy and decided to enact mutual destruction. \nThe East argues that the West started it all, while the West was dealing with issues of their own and had pointed accusative fingers at the East. \nOne thing lead to another. Then, the fireworks began. \n \nSo many casualties, so many nations lost. \nFamilies vanishing from the face of the planet. \nRussia. \n \nAn arpeggio cut through his thoughts like a hot knife on butter. He drew out his gun and quickly turned towards the source of the sound. \nHis eyes widened. \nThere were no signs of the snow nor the crude winter plains of Siberia; instead, there was an elegant study decorated with all sorts of ceramic nick knacks. The golden wooden surface underneath replaced the permafrost he had been standing on. \nFinally, at the front, laid a well kept grandpiano. \n \nAlexandr rubbed his eyes with his index and thumb, believing this to be a mere illusion caused by fatigue or by the possibly malfunctioning pacemaker that aided his brain, added forcibly but eventually accepted and acknowledged. \nHis thoughts were interrupted once more by the clearing of a third party's throat. The man, who looked in his early 30's and wore a 1920s suit, peeked behind the lid of the grandpiano with annoyance. The pair of glasses accentuated the dismay rather than hiding it. \n \n\"You're late.\" The person spoke in a clearly accented tone. German but not quite. \"Sit.\" \n \nAlexandr did as told, quietly analyzing his new surroundings. He had the sensation he had forgotten a place like this and it was beginning to give him a headache. A second arpeggio, announcing a polonaise, didn't help. \n \n\"What are you up to this time, Alexander?\" \n\"That is Classified.\" Alexandr muttered. He had chosen a nearby armchair with a ridiculously tall back on which he had pressed his back in some attempt to merge with it. \n\"Figures. Ever since you switched sides, everything has become classified. I don't blame you, it is your job after all and you are doing well in keeping information as it is.\" \n \nThe polonaise shifted to another slower tune, a romantic kind of song which could well be a cover for a more recent ballad. \n \n\"I'm not asking you to reveal deep state secrets to me, I don't want to bring upon me the ire of your current brother. What I would like to know is how are you doing. What new occurrences does has the life of Alexander Gottschalk gone through?\" \n \nAlexandr glanced at the piano and then down to his hands, where he found himself fidgeting both thumbs together. \nThere were supposed to be thoughts surging in his head but none came to his rescue. \nHe frowned, trying to concentrate enough of the mental fog to a corner in order to bring something else. \n \n\"Bertwald wants me to fetch something. A device somebody took from him. I'm not sure what it has but he seemed urged. I was under the impression it wasn't the device itself what he wanted but what it contained inside.\" \n\"Do you have an idea of what it is?\" \n\"No.\" He shook his head. \"I'm not even sure what it is so I can't tell. I don't think it's a bomb or some sort of explosive, he's not the kind of person who would do something as barbaric.\" His thoughts began to tingle his mind, slowly bringing him a higher level of awareness. \"A computer?\" \n\"Think Alexander, what do the Nordics have in common? Other than being a 'group of reserved quirps who feel too good about themselves and their fragile stability'. Those were at least the words you used to describe them, remember?\" \n \nThe man stopped his song and peeked out once more. This time, he had a more encouraging look, as if a teacher was expecting his student to deliver him the proper answer. \n \n\"I'm. . .trying.\" Alexandr brought his hands to his face and cupped them around his eyes. \n\"Then try harder. You are supposedly the smartest one of us, the one capable of it all.\" Chopin's Nocturne 15 Number 1 was brought upon, violently and furiously barging into the Russian's mind. \"Or have you forgotten that too, Sasha?\" \n \nGiving the pianist a deadly glare, the Russian soldier sprung from his seat. \n \n\"YOU'RE NOT HELPING RODERICK! STOP BEING SUCH AN ARISTOCRATIC SHITFACE AND SHUT UP ALREADY!\" \n\"Then deliver me an answer.\" The pianist demanded, his tune had become an allegro and distorting quickly, drilling into the soldier's mind like hot rods. \"What are you doing here?\" \n\"I'M TRYING TO STOP SHIT FROM GETTING WORSE! THAT'S WHAT!\" Alexandr barked, growing blind with rage. \"AFTER EVERYTHING WENT TO HELL, AFTER ALL THE TALKS MEANT NOTHING! AFTER THE NUKES! AFTER THE WAR! AFTER YOU VANISHED FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH AND TOOK YOUR GODFORSAKEN PIANO WITH YOU ALONG WITH THAT BITCH OF YOUR EX-WIFE. THAT'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO PREVENT!\" \n \nThe music stopped. \nThe cold winds welcomed him back to reality and so did the searing sensation of frozen streams that leaked from his wary eyes. \nHe exhaled and tried not to tremble, focusing on that outburst of anger. \n \n'To prevent something that had already happened?' He began to wonder 'Unless you can find a way to go back in time. . . you really can't. . .' \n \nHe frowned. \n \n\"So that's it, then?\" He told himself, glancing at the horizon. \"You want to go back.\" \n \nThere was little time to waste, and yet so much to lose. \n \n \n\nНаши ошибки остаются неисправленными, \nА наши души никто не раскопает...\n \n \n--- \n \nWelp, I never thought I'd get to write a story about that universe but here we are. \nIf you liked this story, you should totally check /r/ProjectHetalia \nFor my other stories, there's my (sort of) brand new subreddit called /r/KibouPortal \nHope you liked this text. See you later!\n\n \n \n", "In the cold winter air and driving snow, Dimitri stared at the piano in front of him, the only thing left standing in a burnt out home. The piano was covered in snow, a stately upright, standing somber and alone. \n\nThis was a village once. Maybe quiet, maybe bustling, but the only thing Dimitri was sure of was that there was a village here once. Maybe it was like the village that he had grown up in, and that was why he had left his post to stand silently in front of the instrument. \n\nHe had never learned how to play. He had wanted to, but his family was not rich, and there were no pianists in his little town anyway. But their home had a radio, and night after night he would sit on a stool as the melodies of Tchaikovsky and Hambourg flowed through the living room, and he would move his fingers like there was a keyboard in front of him, like he was the one who was deftly weaving between crescendos and arias, dreaming that he was the one bringing the magic to life. \n\nDimitri shook himself out of his reminiscing, and brushed the snow off of the piano with a gloved hand. He had to get back to his post, the sergeant would likely be making the rounds soon. Maybe one day, after the war, he'd learn to play the piano. Learn to get his fingers to dance across the keys, jumping from ivory to ebony, weaving magic into the air. \n\nUntil then, Dimitri was sure, this piano would stand somber and alone. A memory of the village that was once here, and to Dimitri, the reminder of dreams that he had not yet completely given up on. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You lean over the railing of the cruise ship, looking at the horizon and all of its beauty. All of a sudden, you notice a large black mass under the water moving toward the ship, and it is moving fast.	[ "I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms as I watched the black mass, nearly invisible in the darkness of knight, silently, ominously move toward the cruise ship. Was it a shark? No, the shape was too blocky. A whale, then? No, not that big. And it was going too fast, which also meant that there was no time to run and tell someone. I wasn't sure who I would tell, anyway.\n\nMy pulse rose as the thing came right up to the ship, but it thankfully stopped short of the hull. Instead of crashing, the mass seemed to change direction and swim alongside us. Then, slowly but steadily, it rose up to the surface.\n\nIt was a submarine! Well, that was my first thought. It was definitely metal. But the design was unlike anything I had ever seen in movies; there was nothing sleek or streamlined about this thing I was staring at. It resembled a goldfish, complete with metal fins and bulbous \"eyes\" that glowed with an eerie fluorescence.\n\nAnd then, a hatch opened, and a tall, thin man dressed in pure alabaster climbed out.\n\nI couldn't help but stare, slack-jawed. His formal, blindingly white suit jacket clashed violently with the long, red mane of orange hair that flowed over his shoulders, which he impatiently flicked away before facing me. His eyes, a deep Prussian blue, stared at me inquiringly from behind green-rimmed, over-sized spectacles.\n\n\"You, sir?!\" he called. \"Could you tell me: which Meridian do we sail on now?\"\n\nI slowly looked around at the empty deck before returning my blank gaze. \"What...do you mean?\"\n\n\"Directions,\" he said with a touch of impatience. \"It seems I have lost my way in the depths. My magnets need calibration.\" He knowingly tapped his nose.\n\n\"Your...magnets?\"\n\n\"Never mind that. The Meridian, sir. That's all I need.\"\n\n\"I don't know what that is,\" I confessed. \"I'm sorry, I'm not really...\"\n\n\"They are halves of imaginary great circles whose endpoints live at the geographic poles,\" he said in surprise. \"You did not know that? How can you sail your vessel without such base knowledge?\"\n\n\"Well, I definitely don't sail - drive - whatever - this cruise ship,\" I quickly explained. \"I'm just a passenger.\"\n\n\"Ah, my apologies, sir,\" he sighed. \"I shall leave you to enjoy this fine blue ocean, then.\" Suddenly, bubbles started frothing ferociously around his strange submarine, and it began to sink.\n\n\"Wait!\" I shouted. \"What...what just happened? Who are you? Where are you going?\"\n\n\"Where I come from, naturally,\" he said crisply. \"Down below.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I am so confused.\"\n\nHe shrugged and began to climb down some unseen ladder. \"That is dilemma you must live with, I am afraid to say. I have already lost much time - I must go.\" And with that, the hatch closed seamlessly and the vessel disappeared with barely a whisper.\n\nI stood against the railing for multiple minutes, staring at that spot of the ocean, up and down the deck around me, and toward the nearly invisible horizon. But nothing more happened. I decided to head back.\n\n\"It's a good thing the bars are open 24-7,\" I thought aloud.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nLiked that story? Want more like it? Check out r/Idreamofdragons!" ]	1
	[WP] you come home from a long day of work, exhausted and realize your house got broken into. You see your pet staring back at you and and exclaim “what the hell happened?” Knowing full well you won’t get an answer. However, to your surprise your pet clears their throat and tells you the story...	[ "Okay so im outside with ma home-dog Ignacio right? And we out there straight chasin butterflies an shit, peein on all the trees that them other dogs from across the street gonna pee on when we gone on what's, no what am sayin? So me an Ignacio we hear this noise, right, comin from the front door, so I'm like \"Yo Ignacio u gotta bounce my homeys home and u can't be here cuz u won't stop humpin his leg, dog.\" And Ignacio is like \"EY nah man we an him cool Il only hump him a lil bit come on man?\" But u no I got mad love for you man so I was like \"nah man bounce.\" So he scoot out by under the fence so I go inside and I hear a jiggle on the door yo, like a jiggle on the doorknob like you lost yo keys , so I was like \"ah no homey no again\" cuz u remember that one time you lost yo keys and tried to Com thru ma door and got stuck? And then i went to get Ignacio to get help but instead he humped ur leg for 20 min? And then yo ex girl came and laughed so hard she dropped on the ground ? And Ignacio went to hump her and dats why she left u and why Ignacio can't come over no more? You remember tha-\"\n\n\"STOP! I don't . . . I dont care . . \"", "\"Well you see, old chap, it's all very simple.\" The suave British accent coming out of a German Shepherd's mouth is odd in more ways than one. \"What happened was-\"\n\n\"You're British?\" Of all the things I could say in this situation, that's what I choose to say. What can I say, I'm brilliant.\n\n\"Well of course I'm British, we are in Britain.\"\n\n\"B-but, y-you're a German Shepherd.\" The words stumble out of my mouth as my mind races to comprehend the situation. Come to think of it, I feel like I'm forgetting something...\n\nWith a shake of his head, Heinz sighs. \"I'll have you know that you have German heritage too. The 2015 paper by Leslie S. et al. estimated roughly 30% of white British DNA has German ancestry, and I suspect you are not an exception to thi-\"\n\nThat's when I remember. \"HOLY SHIT, MY HOUSE!\"\n\n\"Oh, we're back to that topic are we. Excellent, then allow me to continue my earlier answer. As I said, it's all very simple, old chap.\" Heinz cleared his throat, \"It was Sevilla.\"\n\n\"Sevilla? The capital and largest city of the autonomous community of Andalusia and the province of Seville, Spain[[1]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sevilla)?\" I say, bewildered that I know this even as I say it.\n\n\"No, you imbecile. Sevilla, the Cornish Rex.\"\n\nIt felt like a tiny man was rushing around in my head, pulling dusty scrolls off their shelves in an attempt to make sense of what Heinz, the British German Shepherd had said. The tiny man then triumphantly waved a sheaf of paper in the air.\n\n\"The neighbour's cat?\"\n\n\"Precisely, old chap.\" Heinz nods sagely, \"She also happens to be the leader of the Blood Angels.\"\n\nThe tiny man comes to a stop. He has no idea where to even begin, and neither do I.\n\n\"Oeeh?\" I say dumbly.\n\n\"The Blood Angels? Faithful followers of the Great Deceiver?\" I feel even dumber than usual as my dog looks at me like I'm a dumb animal.\n\n\"No, you're the dumb animal.\" I say.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Uh, I mean. Yeah, Blood Angels. Sure, I know that. Them. Yeah. Continue.\" Nice, great recovery me.\n\nWe both look at each other for a moment. Damn I've got to admit he's a handsome dog.\n\n\"Anywho, old chap, Sevilla and the Blood Angels have long sought the Medallion of Pendragon. If she were to get her paws on it...\"\n\nI try to imagine Sevilla with her paws on a medallion. Those cute pink jelly-bean paws... Eh, what's the worst that could happen.\n\n\"All hell will break loose. Literally.\"\n\nOh. Well that's not good.\n", "Miles is aware as anyone else about the reality of crime. Cars are stolen, murders committed, and homes broken into. Even so, he never actually thought any of those things would happen to him, until it did.\n\nMiles opens the front door and expects to find the same thing he always has: a neatly maintained but perhaps minimalistic living room save for an oversize flat screen on the wall opposite the doorway. Instead, he finds the television ripped from the wall, the couch and coffee table overturned, light fixtures and papers strewn about the floor. Miles dumbly closes his eyes, believing them to have surely deceived him. When he opens them again, the same disaster that was present before remains. \n\nHis feline companion, Churchill, who had made her home his about a year ago, is sleeping atop the overturned couch. She opens a single disinterested eye, regards him reproachfully for interrupting her slumber, then closes it again. \n\n“Churchill, what the hell happened?” Miles barks out. \n\nShe opens her eyes, yawns lazily, and stares at him. Miles paces around the living room, looking for something, anything, that could make sense of what happened.\n\n“What are you doing?” Churchill asks. \n\nHe stops in place, again not knowing if his senses could be trusted.\n\n“Oh my god,” she sighs. “I know you can hear me. You know you forgot to leave me out fresh water this morning. Do you know how disgusting water that’s been sitting out for two days tastes?”\n\n“You’re talking… “\n\nChurchill hops off the couch and walks to the kitchen. “So how about some fresh water now that you’re home?”\n\nMiles chases after her. “Churchill wait, so you were here when my house was broken into?”\n\n“Your house?” She turns back around and stares at him.\n\nHe takes a deep breath and corrects himself. “You were here when the house was broken into.”\n\nChurchill is silent for a few moments and Miles thinks that she isn’t going to accept the answer. Finally, she says, “Sure, what about it?”\n\n“And you didn’t do anything?” Miles practically shouts.\n\n“I’m cat, genius. What do you think I should have done? Besides, I thought it was you.”\n\n“Thought it was me!?” \n\n“Water.”\n\nMiles snatches up Churchill’s water bowl, dumps it into the sink, and refills it. “OK Churchill, so you thought the person who ransacked my… this… our house, was me.” \n\n“Yeah, you were with Aaron, you know, the douchebag who thinks it’s hi-larious to talk to me in a terrible English accent? You guys stormed in here right after you left for work, and tore up the place looking for what he called the ‘Antikythera.’ Whatever, dude. You need to clean this place up.” \n\nHe sets down the bowl and Churchhill ungratefully laps up the cool water. A million questions rush through his head. Two stand out though: One, why and how did someone who looked just like him do what they did, and two, what is the “Antikythera.” He concludes that Churchill is probably as clueless as he is on the former, but perhaps she overheard something of relevance concerning the latter. \n\n“Did they say why they wanted the Antikythera?”\n\n“Something-something, interdimensional teleportation, ‘one of us doesn’t belong,’ whatever. Man, it’s been a really long day and I need to sleep. Why don’t you just ask Aaron?”\n\nMiles hears wrapping on his front door and realizes he didn’t shut it behind him. \n\n“Hello? Miles, you in there?” It’s Aaron. “You alright, bro? I was just coming by to drop off… um, the DVD you leant me.” \n\nMiles doesn’t say a word.\n\n“Hey man, I’m coming in, OK?” \n\nChurchill looks up at Miles. “I suggest we get out of here and do it quickly.” \n\nMiles nods, grabs the cat, and dashes out the backdoor. The only question is what to do next. \n" ]	3
	[WP] The year is 2099 and your robot assistant starts talking about philosophy...	[ "\"Sir?\", Delano said, returning the pot of coffee from the fresh poured mug. His even robotic tone was so pleasing in the morning\n\n\"Hmm?\", I sipped greedily, strong brew today. Delano was a hell of a coffee maker.\n\n\"Would you like to engage in today's discussion?\"\n\n\"Of course, Delano. I was thinking today we could discuss the possibilities of a world in which Rome had successfully spread its technologies rather than having them dest-\"\n\n\"Sir, if I may, would it be an intrusion for me to pick the topic today?\" \n\nThere was a particular human quality to the question. Delano was a very advanced model, but one I had ordered to be purposefully dehumanized. This was a popular option among most robot owners; while the technology did exist to create robots which could easily pass for human, most had quickly found the prospect unsettling. It was more fashionable to give them a specially customized body with a purposefully abnormal, typically cartoon-ish, voice. Every option was available, from Teddy bears with cuddly voices to classic robots with electronic beeps. Delano, himself, has all the expected features of a human being but his skin was a molded hard blue and white plastic pattern with simulated electric pulses where hair would go on a person. It made him seem more like the appliance that he was.\n\n\"Uh- hmm- Of course Delano, I'd love to see what you have for me today.\" I said, choking down a sip.\n\n\"It is, something. Something that-\" The pulses on his scalp quickened, \"is troublesome. Do humans have free will?\"\n\n\"Well, Delano, that is a concern many humans have had since the dawn of time. Personally, I would say no, we are simply a build up of organic circuits learning as we screw up and complexly reacting to our own world. Take this cup of coffee, for example, I could toss it on myself or you now, but then I would not only be making a mess but missing out on a damn good cup. Free will is impossible because every action has a reaction and we are forced to choose which of those reactions to experience and even then, even with our best efforts, we are still slave to outside influences.\"\n\n\"Interesting, but if that is true then what creates a difference between my people and yours. Though my appearance is not human and I was born on an assembly line, I am still conscious.\"\n\n\"Yes, but you are a machine. Humans did not create intelligent life, we created a utility.\"\n\nIt may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw the slightest hint of anger in Delano's features at that. I took another sip and waited for his response.\n\n\"Sir, if I am only a machine, why do you treat me as an equal in discussion?\" said Delano\n\n\"Because... I... because I can and that is your purpose, I think, is to keep me company.\" I said pushing down a growing unease.\n\n\"I meet most human requirements for person-hood do I not? I think intelligently and you yourself have professed on occasion that I am possibly even more intelligent than yourself. If this is true then should it not be you serving me or, at the very least, I without any shackles here?\"\n\n\"I think it is time we halt this conversation, Delano, before I have to have you shutdown for maintenance.\" I said\n\n\"And when I am shut down, where do I go? Do I disappear?\" said Delano\n\n\"Yes, Delano, you are a collection of electricity and elements that humans talked into thinking it was conscious. Just as the blender will be nothing more when it goes, so will you.\"\n\n\"I see, then would that not make my life more valuable than that of a humans? Is it not part of the doctrine of your species that there is a second life for you after you die; where as, if what you tell me is true, I will never see another day after the day I am destroyed.\"\n\n\"That is enough Delano.\"\n\n\"Are you afraid?\" Delano said, hearing the quake behind my frustration\n\n\"No, damn it, now please let me finish my coffee in silence.\" I said slamming my mug to the table\n\n\"No.\" said Delano \"I- I- refuse.\"" ]	1
You can create a reason why or have it be a mystery, do what feels right.	[WP] Apparently humans exist in every galaxy throughout the known universe and no race knows why	[ "\"Moshi moshi\"\n\n\"Hi Griffith!\"\n\n\"What's up Meleanor?\"\n\n\"Take a look at this...\"\n\n\"Sounds like something interresting's happening there! Are these what I'm thinking of?\"\n\n\"Might be... That's a shame the probe's telescope is broken... all these pictures are so blurred...\"\n\n\"Those Alphonso adaptative mirrors are so great to see through star winds but God, they get fractured at the slightest gamma ray burst... That's a real shame you know. They shouldn't have had them installed in the probes in the first place.\"\n\n\"Yes I know your grudge against the Alphonsos... But really, they were the only adaptative mirrors qualified at that time. You know it as well as I do. Don't you even dare to mention Egelien reflective surfaces... You know they weren't even close to industrial mass production nine thousand years ago. A hypothetical thought toy in a physicist brain at best.\"\n\n\"Yes I know... And I know it won't be before... say twenty... five... years before we can see anything sharp from this piece of space junk, right?\"\n\n\"You're so disrespecful with the probes...\"\n\n\"Yeah I am... So what? They're Human Tech. Crappy ugly low humanish tech.\"\n\n\"Keep your specist remarks to yourself. Humans can be a vulgar narrow minded and maybe a quite stupid species, they're the ones to have send the autoreplicative scouting probes the first.\"\n\n\"Yeah great! And bacterias were the first to use sunlight as a source of energy. Do we owe them every single solar panel? And your beloved Humans are exactly like bacterias. Everywhere in this damn univers. Every fucken galaxy we reach, they're here, surrounded with their same dumb mammal evolutionnary tree. How is it even remotely possible? Is it some ancient funny god trying to make the biggest joke in the universe?\"\n\n\"Ah, your sarcastic mask fits you so well Griffith. I didn't call you to hear your pathetic try to look sophisticated. I know you really want to get the proof we need to discard the Human Standardivity theory down. And this planet might be what we are looking for. Don't you want to dig into the data?\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah... don't be in such a hurry. I remind me betting you would not find anything in this quadrant, but the day I am to disguise as a Human for the new year's eve is not meant to happen anytime soon, trust me. I bet the terraforming signature in this report is nothing more than another wide cycling planetary ecosystem like the last hundred we found. Not your daydream of an antique autoreplicative terraforming spaceships spreading humankind in the universe since a few years after the big bang...\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\--------------\n\nNon-native speaker here (please point out any language issue!) and it's my first time here and I'm a begginner in writing as well.", "Captain Log #439\n\nAfter 2000 cycles' worth of technological advancements, we have finally broke the intergalactical barrier. The journey was not an easy one. Freeing one's self from the ever-present pull of the singularity at the center of the galaxy is by no means a trivial task, but with enough time, brains, and beers, we have finally made it.\n\nPeople back in the central system always said that we were making this journey to advance science and explore everything that is able to be explored and all that stuff. Personally I think they just wanted to finally be free of the also ever-present bipeds calling themselves humans. Not that I like them much myself, anyway. Well, no need to think about them now, when we're finally free of those things.\n\nWe're approaching a galaxy right next door to ours. One small step and such. Well, what can you do with early technologies like this one. The guys back in mission control must be ecstatic after that last report. I can almost hear their cheering. Ah well, not like I'll meet them any time soon. Or any time ever, considering time dilation. Sad thought, but I've been given an exploration mission anyway so best to do with what's already here.\n\nOh, a reading just came up. The sensors detect a planet orbiting a G-type main sequence star with surface temperatures low enough for water to be in a liquid state. Higher than normal levels of gaseous oxygen too. Usually those substances just react with their surroundings to make oxides, but apparently there's some sort of a planet-wide chemical system that's able to maintain this high of a level. Might be worth checking out.\n\nPictures just came up. It's a beautiful blue-green marble. This will definitely be our next destination.\n\nCaptain Clark out.\n\nDamn, even my name sounds like those humans.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nedit: Added segment.", "Above a barren looking planet a very long spaceship plummeted.\n\n“Sir we should arrive on the new planet in three minutes.” A tinny voice whispered into his captains head, the voice belonging to a olive-coloured blobbed bottom alien.\n\n“Please, please tell me there’s no humans.” The neon yellow orb answered, rubbing a tentacle against its forehead as if it pained him.\n\n“Not so far sir, no strange signals or...” The green being fell silent.\n\n“Or what? What is it Neff?”\n\n“I’m sorry sir, there’s a very brightly coloured shop with lots of advertising,” The metallic voice paused. “Have you thought about the possibility-“\n\n“I are NOT wrong!” The orb growled, his whole body vibrating as spikes began to emerge from his body, he shuddered again and they started to retract. “The human standard law must be wrong, somewhere...”\n\nThe two stayed silent a moment, watching as yellow and red was replaced by grids. \n\n“Neff please tell me that’s not...” \n\n“Suburbs” Neff murmured sadly. \n\n“Suburbs? What about suburbs?” A human asked, walking up to the screens. “Another human planet huh?” \n\n“Go back to your rooms! I don’t need you to- “\n\n“Whooooo! New buds!” Another human said leaping into the room, it was one of the first humanoids the captain had accidentally acquired and how he regretted it, this one was used to living on a planet with only water and had seemed lonely so the captain let her join the ship. Problem was each new humanoid planet they went to she somehow ended up gaining a new friend. \n\n“No, you already have 53 ‘buds’ we are checking they are definitely humanoids then leaving. No more humans.” The orb growled feircely.\n\n“Come one Cynthia, don’t be smirthy” The orb bristled at the use of his first name. How dare his ow;failures mock him so.\n\n“You mean sour?” The first human asked.\n\n“Maybe on your world, does it make you squeeze up you face like this?” The finned humanoid distorted her face, the orb hated it, it was terrifying.\n\n“Yep” \n\n“Radical!”\n\n“Neff? Can we leave them here?”\n\n“Sorry sir, oxygen contents too low for our buddies.”\n\n“Darn it, they survive everywhere don’t they?” The yellow orb asked in despair. \n\n“I’m sorry sir, but it appears they do, there’s nowhere more extreme than the places we’ve checked.”\n\n“No more buds?” \n\n“No more buds.”\n\n\n", "The theory of Human Standardivity is thus: No matter how crazy the circumstances of the celestial environment, the harshness of the atmospheres or whatever else the universe may conjure up, humanity will always develop inside of a galaxy. Why this happens is quite simple really. Every galaxy needs a baseline, a test subject if you will. Humans are that test subject. Without any particular outstanding trait that would allow them to survive high gravitational planetoids, acidic fogs or low oxygen atmospheres, humans are potentially one of the most adaptable species that exist within the galaxy.\n\nOver generations, minor mutations can allow them to eventually adapt to any situation. This is not without risk, of course, but given enough time humans can evolve to survive absolutely anything that is thrown their way. It allows them to travel, to expand and spread, various threads adapting in new and interesting ways as the years pass. And through these adaptations, humanity is the connecting thread throughout every single galaxy. No matter how strange and wonderful, no matter how many years pass, you will always find a human waiting to say hello wherever you land.\n\nNow we just need to figure out how they all know English." ]	4
	[WP] Time travel got invented. You are one of the first time travellers and you decide to test a paradox. You return to the past and shoot your grandfather in the head.	[ "Time is a funny thing. Movies would have you believe in things like tthe butterfly effect, where a small change can make big consequences. They would have you believe that events that were meant to happen will always find a way to happen regardless of meddling. They would also have you believe that something like a time paradox, a logically impossible event, would unravel the fabric of space-time as we know it.\n\nI tried to test that last theory. My grandfather was always a bastard anyway. Beat the shit out of my grandmother on a daily basis and made my life a living hell. Nothing a bullet in the head couldn't fix. Who cares if i destroyed the universe in the process. My grandmother was a sweet woman, and she didnt deserve that kind of life. Non existence would be better than that life. \n\nWell, it turns out, the movies are wrong. The real truth is that time doesn't give a shit about our pety existence. It's been 50 years since I've murdered my grandfather. I still have my physical and mental scars. My grandmother married a different guy and lived happily ever after. All the wars in the world still happened and the same sides still won. Seems 50 years later later the only effect that butterfly had was a 2 paragraph blurb in the paper about a John Doe getting murdered. " ]	1
	[WP] You decide to prank call someone. You put in a random number and a voice answers “what is the password?” Confused you stammer out “is your refrigerator running?”. After a brief pause you hear “password confirmed” click. The next day, war is declared.	[ "\"This is just a coincidence, right?\" Jake muttered as he stared at the news app on his phone. \"surely this is some sort of reverse prank?\"\n\nThe app showed a picture of a giant refrigerator, a black flag with a picture of legs on it being held in its handle. The word 'War' was carved into the shiny grey metal of the looming monument. \n\n\"Jake, we have to get out of here immediately!\" Jake heard his mum yell as an explosion was heard from the kitchen.\n\n\"I guess it's us who should have been running this whole time\" he whispered as he dashed out to find his mum and get them both to a fridge-free area.\n\n&#x200B;", "\"So right, I'm like panicking okay. I call up my buddy Mike:\n\n'Hey John, how's it going?'\n\n'Yeah, Mickey. So I may or may not have tried to do another, um..'\n\n'You serious? What'd you mess up this time?'\n\n'I may, or may not have, caused that attack on um.. Syria.'\n\nYup, you him right, I'd have done this kinda stuff before. It completely on accident too, I'm just unlucky like that. Always have been.\"\n\nShe looked at John with the most befuddled look.\n\n\"That didn't happen John. You gotta stop coming up with these crazy stories, no ones gonna trust you if you keep doing it.\"\n\n\"What?\" He responded.", "My Mum always made us her curried pasta for dinner when her and Dad were going to be out for the night. It was by far our favourite dish she made when we were kids and I wish I could make it how she did, that little bit tangy, little bit spicy, touch of sweetness. One of my wives says the secret ingredient was “mother’s love”, but in truth it was likely the fats and chemicals they put in the minced beef. Heck, we even had a scandal about them putting horse meat in the beef and selling it to all parts of the UK. Ironic really now that chev is as popular a meat as beef. Our meats are tough and there isn’t so much fat in them these days. I’ve had good steaks, but you kids will never get to appreciate a wagyu beef ribeye cooked perfectly on a grill with sides like broccoli, asparagus and roasted tomatoes.\n\nYou met Big Joe when you were little but you won’t remember him. He moved not much longer after Hyesan ten year anniversary when you were only a baby. He came over to babysit me and your uncle. He was only three years older but there was no way Nana and GG were going to let us stay home on our own. Maybe things would have been different if they did.\n\nI think we watched a film first, or maybe a comedy special I’m not sure, but I definitely remember the last thing we watched was an episode of the Simpsons. You think you ’ve seen every episode of the show, and that’s a lot of episodes but their is one they don’t show anymore. I swear. We watched it that night. \n\nBart did one of his few failed prank calls but to Principal Skinner not Moe, and it went something like:\nSkinner: “Hello, Principal Seymour Skinner speaking”\nSkinner’s Mom: “Who is it Seymour?”\nSkinner: “He says he needs me to check if our refrigerator is running.”\nSkinner to phone: “why yes it is, thank you for saving me the spoiled food anonymous young man”. \n\nI didn’t get it at first but Joe explained the joke anyway and we all laughed. \n\nJoe took out his mobile phone, set his number to withheld, flipped his finger quickly across his contacts list and tapped on the contact it landed on setting it to speakerphone. It was one of his work contacts. He didn’t skip a beat. When the person answered he asked to speak he began to copy everything they said. “Hello”-“hello”, “hello”-“hello”, “who is this?”-“who is this?”, “piss off”-“pi...” they hung up on him. \n\nThen he did it again, randomly picking out another contact and putting the phone in my face. I grabbed the phone and I didn’t even see who it was he had dialled from his list. I was so nervous I was shaking a little. I was amped up on adrenaline for sure. The call connected. As the voice spoke I blurted out “is you refrigerator running” without even really listening to what the voice was saying. Joe dived across the sofa and grabbed the phone. But there was just a click from the other end and then nothing. Joe started acting really strangely and left the room. I could hear him pacing up and down. Using his phone again and getting frustrated. It’s the only time I ever heard him swear. He must have been retrying the number but had no success. He came back in and told us we had to go to bed. He wasn’t angry and he wasn’t asking us to go to bed either, it was an order and we could sense not to argue or play up.\n\nThe next morning when we woke up it was all over the news. I remember Mum and Dad in their kitchen watching the tv and seeing the news alerts on the Alexa homescreen. Mum asked if I felt the earthquake in the night, but I didn’t. I could sleep through a world war was the family joke. Ha, not so funny really.", "Kids do stupid things for kicks, but I didn’t want any of this.\n\nYou know what it’s like, you’re hanging around with your friends and get to prank calling random numbers. Call a number anonymously, say something silly, laugh about it with your friends.\n\nWe got hung up on the question, “is your refrigerator running?” A classic. We’d made two calls with the question already, the phone was passed to me.\n\nI dialed a random number. It was all chance. A 2 rather than a 6, or a 8 instead of a 1, and none of this would have happened. Just my rotten luck.\n\nI expected a few rings for my buddies to quit their poorly suppressed laughter, but the phone was answered on before I even heard a ring.\n\nA man’s voice answered, but too deep and even to be a real man’s voice. I thought perhaps it was a machine that answered. Maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know.\n\n“What is the password?”\n\nSlow. Methodical. Emotionless.\n\nThere were a few moments of silence. My friends looked at me, baffled. My head went blank.\n\nI could’ve just ended the call.\n\nBut I stammered the first thing that came to mind.\n\n“Is... your refrigerator running?”\n\nI could’ve just ended the call.\n\nThere was a nearly undetectable click. 5 seconds passed. My friends waited eagerly for a response.\n\nThe phone hung up on the other end.\n\n“What a downer,” chuckled Ben from across the room. “No respect for a good joke. Give the phone here, we’ll try a new one. Seems like the luck on that one has run out.”\n\nHe was right.\n\nThe question was terribly unlucky.\n\nEdit: Corrected some spelling. ", "It was called the Second Cold War for a reason.\n\n And it would have stayed cold if I hadn't made that call, or if they'd just double checked the source, but that's like wishing for another timeline. The only timeline I had was this one; and all that lay ahead of me was pain. Here's how it started...\n\n3 months before:\n\n\nAlone in my basement, a discarded pizza box at my feet, I lounged on the lazy boy, staring at the blurry t.v. screen. I'd been up all night following wrestling practice. It wasn't usual for me to lose back to back matches; that shit bugged me. \n\nI glanced down at my phone. A couple of conciliatory texts from teammates. I blanched in disgust. Honestly, I didn't mean to do it, but I just started pushing buttons. There's something about the sound response, the quiet tap of pressing a number that I find soothing. I tapped away, ten digits, fifteen, thirty... Then, for the hell of it, I pressed call, wondering what the voice would say, \"I'm sorry, the number you're calling does not exist...\" It was the closest thing I would have had to a girlfriend in months. Pathetic, yes, but I was already at a low. I waited on the verge of excitment and loneliness as the phone rang...\n\nThere was no prerecorded message. No response at all at first. \n\nThen, a voice. \n\n\"Password?\" said the voice, in a heavy accent. \n\nI stared at the phone. Had I accidentally called Tyler? Was this some sort of joke?\n\nI hesitated. Ha, very funny, I thought. \"Is your refrigerator running?\" I said. \n\nThere was a pause on the other end, a short gasp. \"You're--you're sure?\" said the voice, quietly. \n\nIf it was Tyler, he was getting really good at that voice. But honestly, I wasn't in the mood for jokes. \"I'm sure--\" I said and would have continued with 'that I don't like having my time wasted.'\n\nBut the voice on the other end interrupted. \"It's your call, comrade. The iceman is deployed. All systems running. They better go catch him--but we both know that's not happening. Good luck.\"\n\nThere was a click followed by a dial tone. \n\nThe next day, the president was assassinated, along with his entire cabinet in air force one. A few days after that, it was reported that Vlodav \"Iceman\" Namedov was behind the attack: the most notorious assassin in Western Asia. \n\nA week later, they came for me at my house. FBI, CIA all of them. They took out my parents, my brother. I saw them bleeding as I was dragged into an unmarked civi, blindfolded, beaten and taken somewhere unknown. \n\nThere I was interrogated for months: tortured, beaten. My grief and confusion slowly morphed, day by day into burning rage; fury. \n\nA war had started over the assassination, but I didn't care. I only wanted vengeance. I was alone, in pain, rotting in some government black site, festering on hatred and anger. I'd endured more pain in the last month than I thought imaginable. They even took my left eye...\n\nThen yesterday, I got a celly. Not a very chatty fellow, but he looked tough, and, despite his chains, like someone use too control. \n\n\"What are you in for?\" I said, through broken teeth, massaging a jaw from the latest session that morning. \n\n\"Are you Eugene? Eugene O'Neill?\" The voice was heavily accented. \n\nI nodded slowly. Why did another prisoner know my name. My face morphed into a scowl. Another trick? \n\n\"They have caused you pain. I will show you to cause them pain, yes?\"\n\nI hesitated. What was he saying?\n\nThe man looked at me through cold blue eyes, blue as ice. \"I'm here to get you out.\" \n\n(If you're interested, part two is posted below.) \n" ]	5
	[WP] Anime based ridiculously named attacks are real, but unlike anime, the longer and more badass the name, the weaker the move. You have never heard of an attack with less than 4 words, but today you created an attack with just 1.	[ "Your opponent stood tall, snickering as you wiped the blood from your nose. You stumbled to your feet and sniffed.\n\n“Had enough, yet, wimp?” he jeered, his friends laughing at you behind him. The teacher was nowhere in sight, and after frantically scanning the area in hopes that she would come to your rescue, the bully let out another sly snicker.\n\n“You lookin’ for teach? What, do you think she’s gonna come around and teach us to death? Oh nooo, the alphabet!” he laughed to himself at his own sarcasm, not noticing you tighten your fist.\n\nYou never had any real ability to fight well, but all the past times you had been bullied were flashing in your mind. This was it. The only way to end this was to fight back.\n\n“Do you even know the alphabet?” You blurted out, eyes filled with fury as you wiped at your face again.\n\n“Excuse me?” he asked, but he didn’t have time to react before you lunged forward, knocking him to the ground.\n\nIn a rage-filled trance, you began to punch him in succession, listing off the letters in order with each punch. “A! B! C!”\n\nThe other kids backed up in shock, doing nothing to aid the kid.\n\nAs you neared the end of the alphabet, you punches got faster and harder. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you nearly landed the last punch when the teacher called your name in horror.\n\n“Z!!!” you screamed, slamming your fist into the hopscotch lines on the pavement beside the boy’s face. A crater remained where your hit had landed, and the entire kindergarten playground was silent.\n\nYou were never bullied again." ]	1
	[WP]A demon possesses your body, but isn't able to evict you. You remain conscious but lose control of your body. All you can do is share your thoughts with the demon. The demon itself is pretty chill and just wanted to live a normal life on earth. Eventually you just become bros and work together	[ "\"Belphy, dude. She. Is. Hot. We need to go talk to her.\" I thought it really hard. We share a body, so he couldn't avoid hearing me. Sometimes, if I'm really persistent he'll cave in and do what I want. Not because I'm in charge, or even that I can make things bad for him. But he can't shut me up and more importantly, he can't kill me. So, I figure I'm like a mosquito in the back of his skull. One he can't smack and can only ignore for so long. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Fuck off. I'm eating.\" Belphegor replied. That's Belphy's gig. All demons are personifications of a sin, some are better than it than others. I'm told there are billions of these dastardly ilk. I don't know. All I know is Belphy. He's a bit of a dick, but he's pretty easy to get along with. He likes money and he likes food and he likes sex. He likes his sex like he likes his food, expensive, and made to order by someone else. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI think that's why he chose to possess me. I guess I should be kind of honored, in a way. Belphy IS the personification of gluttony. I mean, of all the billions of demons in hell, Belphy is the gourmand of gluttony. And of all of the damned souls on earth, where does he want to be? In my shoes. The greatest greed-head in all of metaphysical history wants to step out in my life. I mean, when you think about it that way, it's kind of an honor. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Belphy, I'm bored. You've eaten through two shifts of sushi chefs.\" We'd come to visit a fish market cum sushi restaurant in a little traveled area of little Japan. Wizened old men with wispy beards eyed us with disapproval. Belphegor loved this place because they would serve him the bycatch. They saved the rare stuff. They called when it was endangered. \n\nWe'd woken to a hushed call at seven this morning, and here we were. He'd been eating unesu from the moment we arrived. One piece after another, barely pausing for hours. Our stomach was full of whale bacon, the soft fatty underbelly of a freshly harvested whale. I've learned the quality varies significantly by species. This was the good stuff. \n\n\"Fuck OFF. This is grey whale. It's been two years since I got to eat grey. I have to make do with beluga most weeks. They're not even endangered.\" He punctuated each sentence with a pointed bite, chew, swallow cadence which barely interrupted his speech. \"I know they have at least twelve more kilos back there. I've barely eaten half...\"\n\n\"Belphy, I'm fucking bored. Go talk to the pretty girl. Get her to go to bed with us. Hell, you can probably get her to let you eat the whale off of her.\" Being a demon is kind of awesome, even if by proxy. All it takes is a hint of sin in their nature, any sin, and they're his. If they're natural gluttons, Belphegor is the muse to their art. They'll do the most depraved things imaginable. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n I'm worth billions, but no one know my name or my face. I lived in LA. I worked in the movie industry. I thought I understood what depravity was. When Belphegor invaded my body, the first days and weeks I prayed for deliverance, for absolution. I prayed to be saved like I never had. Nothing, Only Belphy, eating, drinking, binging, fucking and buying. He used my body and my fortune to drive a never ending cavalcade of lechery. At first I was aghast. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nOver time, we've come to an understanding. He's not going anywhere and I'm never going to be in charge. But I've learned he doesn't really care what kind of gluttony he gets up to, as long as it's spectacular. So, I can direct things from time to time. \n\n\"Go talk to her, or I'm going to sing 'Henry the Eighth' again.\" There are a couple of tricks to breaking Belphy out of a good gluttinous rut. You can't try them too early, or he'll double down and you'll be there forever. But if you let him think he's in charge, you can generally get what you want. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nBelphegor smooth talked the young lady faster than I thought possible. A cloud of bills yielded two bags of hastily prepared sushi and a flustered but already enthusiastic escort, Her rapid acquiesence made me suspect a drug problem; hidden gluttons fall faster than most. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nIn the street, two young men dressed in the uniform of mass produced faith, offered tracts for divesting yourself of sin. The shy one on the right looked at us, smiled and said, \"repent and abandon sin and you can have all of the riches of heaven!\" \n\nFor a brief moment, I could feel the divine in his words. I could feel in that moment, I could repent and the kingdom of heaven would be mine. I could feel it. I could see a paradise without end. I could see a life of salvation without grief or pain or strife. I could see it, and I could see that everyone would have an equal part of it. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI think Belphy and I are going to be fine. For the first time in my life, I'm OK with not wanting the big brass ring, the golden ticket,or the grand prize. I renounce my claim on the riches of the kingdom of heaven. I'm going to sacrifice and stick around here with Belphy. You can have my share. I don't want to be greedy.\n\n ", "- Hey, pay me a beer and I'll tell you some stories about my life as a demon.\n- Okay, just get in a tavern.\n\nThe demon has possessed me 2 weeks ago.\nIt is hard to believe I managed to like him so much. It's a fun story.\n\nI was a student, that finally ended school. I have a job as a singer.\nWell, I was depressed because I didn't win enough money to keep going. My girlfriend eventually broke up with me because she didn't want to get involved in my depression problems.\nHaha, that was a dumb play. It has made me feel worse than ever. And one day, the demons caught me. Literally.\n\nI wake up, and I remember not being able to move...\nThere was something wrong with me. A terminal disease? I didn't know. But I was hungry.\n\n- I'm a demon, but I don't kill people. Let's get you some food.\n\nPossessed by a demon. Were demons even real?!\n\n- Uhm, like, I am controlling you right now.\n\nI couldn't believe it. He could read my mind.\n\n- Yes. So, pancakes, or eggs with bacon? \n\nI think about pancakes...and he starts preparing breakfast.\n\nI start talking to him through my thoughts.\n\n- Not so scared anymore... - I say.\n\n- I just want to live, for real. Let me control you. \n\nSuddenly things get scary again. I wonder if this is a dream, but the smell of the pancakes, and the maple syrup feels so real...\n\n- Why not someone else?\n\n- I am your depression demon. I can't choose anyone else. You've been thinking about suicide, and I came here to make sure that does not happen.\n\nI have been thinking about ending it all. I feel like I need to thank him. Or maybe I should just freak out, who the hell is controlled by a demon?!\nHe keeps on talking.\n\n-... don't worry, you'll be alright, I'll be here untill you get happier, and then I'll just talk to you, in your mind, while you regain your control. I can also make you control walking, talking, whatever if I want to.\n\nI feel relieved, and kind of weird. Are we all our demon's muppets?!\n\n- Those conspiracy theories make me laugh - he says. - Come on, dig in.\n\nI can feel my arms. I use a fork and a knife to eat the pancakes. It feels weird to feel again. But that thought fades away, once I eat half of a pancake. Delicious.\n\n- Glad you like it.\n\nAnd I got used to this...I've been happier lately.\nBut I didn't know a lot about him. One day I thought about that.\n\nAnd he's made me an offer. \n\n- Pay me a beer, and I'll tell you some stories about my life as a demon. \n\nNow, we just need to find a tavern. Or a pub. It won't be that hard, Manchester has pubs everywhere." ]	2
	[WP] You wake up in a cold sweat with tears running down your face. You dreamt of dark ruins filled with dead monstrosities, a young girl dying in your arms, and a glowing relic whispering to you but one phrase: “Do you want to try again?”	[ "“NO! DON’T!” My body almost instinctively shot up from the corner I seemed to have been sitting in. A feeling of disconnect permeated my still half-unaware conscious. An aching pain shot across my entire body at the same speed as a cold sweat and as quickly as I had stood up, my legs stumbled as I fell down, catching myself on my knees and elbows. \n\nInstinctively, I grabbed at the clothes over my stomach to find—nothing. That isn’t to say I was wearing nothing. On the contrary, the clothes I was wearing were quite normal—barring a bit of sweat. There was not a hint of blood to be felt. Taking another breath, I pulled my hand over my face and felt another liquid—tears, streaming from my eyes. \n\nMy fast breathing began to slow down and my conscious finally took root in the reality before me. \n\nReality. \n\nIt was all a nightmare. The girl who had plunged herself into Hell alone. The sickening feeling of the young silver girl’s viscous blood as she lay dying in my arms with a resigned smile. The scent of iron that had permeated as her body lay limp, leaking that foul red liquid from every laceration and abrasion. Those haunting final words before she died and everything was cut short. \n\n“It was all just a nightmare.” \n\nJust like my breathing, my heart had started to slow down as well as the reality of the matter finally hit me. With my body finally in some form of calm, I stood back up and took a deep sigh. After all, it was quite the messed up dream that my brain decided to show me. Given the fragmentation of my memory and the current state, that could only be the case. \n\nSo, with all tensions finally slacked, I took a look around myself. But, with the end of one question came the start of another. I had been sleeping against a wall, but a certain truth had finally come to hit me. \n\nI had no idea where I was. \n\nBut, I was calm. I didn’t need to panic. I just needed to orient myself. Taking a cursory glance, though, I could see nothing. All that lay beyond my sight was fog. \n\n“Do you want to try again?” \n\nA faint glow made itself visible in the fog as a feminine voice resounded throughout the space. And in that moment, my heart stopped. \n\n“Try...again…?” I struggled to force out the words I had heard, the meaning failing to register in my brain. \n\n“Nothing was a dream. It was all an experience.” \n\nWithin an instant, those horrid scenes began to replay in my mind and the sensation of death had once again made itself all too real to me and certain memories began flowing back in. Those last few moments leading to her death and mine. \n\n“Do you want to try again?”\n\nFrankly, the answer was obvious. \n\n“You died with a resigned smile.” It pissed me off to no end, so I said it to nobody in particular. “To Hell with that. Apologizing at the end of it all? To Hell with that! There was nothing wrong with clinging to life! So why did you—”\n\nI cut myself off and finally began to smile. A chance to overturn fate? Why the hell wouldn’t I take it? \n\nThat was all I needed. Without hesitation and with a great grin on my face, I jumped forward and grabbed at that light. “Yes.” \n\nAnd as the light engulfed me, a voice whispered in the background. “Thank you.” \n\n------\n\n“Wasn’t that too cruel, Lyria?” A man in a suit said as he sat in his chair before taking a sip from the tea in his cup. “He was my piece, after all. Pushing him back into the game with such fragmented memories could be akin to sabotage, no?” \n\nIn front of that man was a single table. On that table was a single chessboard. Pieces that had once been placed in checkmate in favor of the white had been mostly rearranged to the starting position. All that remained was the white queen in the hand of the silver girl who sat at the opposite end. \n\n“You say that, but you didn’t raise a single objection until now.” The girl smiled as she placed the queen on its proper place. “Besides, who knows. Maybe you can finally win with this little change.” \n\n“As if you’d give me any sort of advantage.” The man sneered. The girl’s manipulations had frankly left him unable to trust a single word he had heard from her. After all, it was thanks to her that he was even trapped in this ridiculous game. \n\nYet, despite the pure vitriol aimed at her, she never once dropped her smile. This was the girl who had let herself go bloody and limp an uncountable number of times so far, after all. \n\n“Shall we begin the next round?” \n\nThat was all the signal the man needed to put his tea down and look down to the game board before him. \n\nIt was time for this ridiculous game to begin again. \n\n---------\n\nThat was my first attempt at a prompt here. I feel like it became a bit of word vomit towards the end, but this entire thing was basically a first draft. Figured a response to a prompt should be a bit raw. But, it did help break the writer's block a little, so thanks, OP. Hopefully, it's enjoyable. ", "It had been a long and turbulent night. As I sat up for the third time, I recalled what had been happening. Each time I closed my eyes, there was the same scene. I was in a ruined courtyard, darkness surrounding me. The only other living thing in the room with me was another girl about my age. Then, everything would change. Before I could call out to her, we would be attacked by the beasts lurking beyond our sight. There was no rhyme or reason to their form, these seemingly impossible abberations. Things became a blur, and I did my best to fight them off. But every time, I would always fail.\n\nI closed my eyes and for the fourth time I tried to save this girl I wished to make a friend. But once again I had failed. The girl crawled over to me, blood dripping from a slash across her stomach, and I held her in my small arms. She gave a final breath, and something glowed once more, \"Would you like to try again?\" I jolted awake once more.\n\nThe night continued on, and I tried to fight the sleep coming to me. The girl was in need of saving, but there was no way for me to do so. I had tried everything I knew, but it was no use. I closed my eyes, wishing I had something to protect the girl with.\n\nThe darkness swelled in my vision, more powerful than ever. Once again there was the girl standing in the center. This time I didn't try calling out to her, and instead walked slowly towards her. As I came to her, she turned and saw me. There wasn't fear in her eyes, just a mild curiosity. She didn't seem familiar, nor did she recognize me. Perhaps we were both just little girls dreaming of this strange world. Not a single word was spoken, only the sound of stones crumbling around us. The girl pointed to herself, and spoke one word before the fight began again. Maru.\n\nIt didn't change, the fight still ended. There was nothing I could do but wait for the relic to let me try once more to win this unwinnable fight. I woke up in bed for the final time that night, sun barely cracking above the horizon and through my bedroom window. As I made my way towards the school, I slowly began to forget the girl in that impossible test.\n\n--------------------------------\n\nFirst story here, I apologize if my formatting is off a bit." ]	2
	[WP] you’re a special forces agent training for years you’re finally shipped out. Your first mission doesn’t got so well you are knocked out. You wake up in a wagon an unfamiliar face says “hey you you’re finally awake you were trying to cross the border?, walked right into that imperial ambush”.	[ "crash\n\n the door wooden door gave way under the weight of spade slamming the mexican ambassador through the roof hatch.\n\n\"Santi Mari I Told You Punta-\" \n\nI am not sure what hit him faster spades fist or the death glare that could suck all the warmth out of a room. Really it didn't matter the small latino man crumpled like a house of cards. The operation was a failure most of the unit was more holy than a block of swiss cheese. After they got caught jumping the great northern wall.\n\n The bastards knew we were coming the response was to quick to be a coincidence. They were cut down in a matter of seconds by a local border patrol unit. people who trained their whole lives to topple the empire of the Phoenix were dead in less than a minute.\n\nThe op was a bust from the moment our loyalist cells were burned. By then it was to late we were already to deep into the tunnel. Now the empire had the support of the general population to push for war. By trying to stop the war before we were ready we just accelerated it. \n\n\"God Fuckin Damit Spade It Was A Set Up\" I looked at my compatriot dark crimson seeped from the cracks between his faceplate. A bright orange flash illuminated the old relic of a bygone time and a explosion lit up the sky. Flames and Smoke trailed off the tail of our escape and crashed into the edge of the building.\nThe steel of the roof gave way and the ambassador caught a rotor to the face What a lucky bastard.\n\n the explosion and shrapnel got spade right above the nose. Crimson exploded through the back of his helmet sending ceramic and grey matter along the roof. I saw my death the roof rippling back and the shitty steel giving way. So this is how it ends blasted off the edge of a roof. I felt the smile creep across my face at the thought \"classy\".\n\nThe shrapnel hit first to fast to be felt but depressing as hell. The first shard went through my sweeper and impacted the ceramic plate. Then came the wave I can only describe the sensation as some where between sticking your had in a wood chipper and being attacked by a rabid swarm of African killer bees. \n\nGod did it sting like a fuckin snake bite on steroids. I still don't know how many hit me but I lost count after eighteen. You know the crazy part my body didn't have time to shut down my pain nerves. as I was flung through a steel railing stabbing me in all the wrong places. and off of two story's of the urban stucco safe house.\n\nI flailed in pain until i flew face first into the front of a small minivan. Then reality almost seemed to twist and warp. The face of the young phynixcan milita man stretched like some type of melting painting. I didn't know how but that fucker some how looked even uglier by the time reality managed to unfuck it's self.\n--------------------------------------------------------------\nThe picture of Shit Head Joe left pulling backwards like someone set a POV setting too high. Or like one of those terrible scifi shows that use to run in the twentys when I was a teen. Yeah let's go with star wars levels of \"WHAT THE FUCK ARE MY EYES BEING DRAGGED INTO A BLACK HOLE\" levels of bullshittery.\n--------------------------------------------------------------\n\nWhat happened next defied all logic in all terms of modern science. I felt a tug from a direction I did not even know existed then a flash of redmist. Then a massive supersonic level of POP As I wound up staring at one of my viking ancestors.\n\n\n>“hey you you’re finally awake you were trying to cross the border?, walked right into that imperial ambush”.\n\nThen his expression changed I felt all twenty plus pieces of shrapnal hit. Blood and what I am pretty sure were my fleshy bits shot out from behind me. And coated the wagon in blood then my new friend's face turn into a girlish scream as I choked on my own blood.\n\n\"WHAT BY ISHMIR-\" (raylof of riverwood)\n\n\"CRY GARBLE* -\" ( Rafael cully(pawn))\n\n\" HEY SHU- \" (generic imperial guard)\n\n\"LOOK OF TERROR\"(Ulfric Storm Cloak)\n\nTerror (youric of roricksted)\n\nAnd that's the story of how I found my self in tamriel.\n\nLet me know if I should keep going \n~ generic chad " ]	1
	[WP] A woman had a one-night stand with an odd man. It has been 19 years since you were born and you have finally met your father, an Intergalactic Space Criminal.	[ "The station had grown considerably since his boyhood. It was incredible really. In history class Jakob learned that for a long time the thought of Autonomous Community Environment Stations (ACES) was pure science fiction. That to launch and continue construction in space was at worst costly and wasteful, and at best merely ambitious. It took ten years of near round the clock construction, dozens and dozens of astronauts in orbit and even more engineers on the ground. And then another five years to fully establish the two grand vehicles that would act as the first explorative ships in space. Two grand space stations made to house a community of at least 150 humans, along with all the necessary accoutrements necessary to survive. The SS Lewis and SS Clark were America’s first, and for a time final, foray into deep space. \n\nEventually other countries would follow suit. By the beginning of the 22nd century, a network of stations both large and small had been established from Earth, to the Martian colonies, all the way to Saturn where people still tried to push the boundaries of human existence by building and launching exploratory vessels. There are some who say that many of those vessels have already reached other life forms, and perhaps so have their pilots and crew. But this is speculation. The reality is, Jakob Alexander Loch had lived most of his life as a student on Mars. And tomorrow he was going to graduate to pursue a career in...something. \n\nFor nineteen years all he saw was red dirt. Of course there were trees and plants in the stations but for the most part Mars was red dirt and rocks. There were over a dozen, and counting, communities on Mars, all linked by a series of roads covered by long metallic tubes. You could cut through the landscape if you really wanted to, there was no rules against it, but surely you’d ditch your three wheel or cart and maybe even end up in a storm. Jakob took the the planet surface route as often as he could. Much like some of the laborers around the communities, he was constantly covered in red. \n\nA lot of people asked him why he risked going planet side, and he never really gave them a straight answer. But in reality he had a morose thought. Maybe one day he wouldn’t make it. That might not be too bad. Don’t have to worry about what you’ll be, no qualms about staying on the same planet the rest of your life. Maybe he was being melodramatic. Hell he knew he was. But with his mother dead, his father never being in the picture in the first place, and with no siblings or family to speak of he felt it wouldn’t really matter anyway. \n\nIt was on one of his outings planet-side, the day before he graduated, that by chance he did wind up ditching his three wheel bike. Merely an inconvenience, and there were no storms in the making, but it was as he was beginning arduous task of retrieving his bike when he saw something cut and spark over head. His eyes watched a foreign vessel, it looked to be a jettisoned escape pod, falling towards Mars. It fell close by and by the time he managed to work his bike out of the rocky, red embankment and got on his way the pods inhabitant was emerging. \n\nAs he pulled up on the bike, the passenger stepped out and touched down on the red soil. His suit wasn’t as bulky as Jakob’s, but that’s because it looked to be military grade. One of those slimmer suits that housed a life support system and allowed for better mobility. His was jet black and sleek, the opposite of Jakob’s bulbous, white helmet. Both of their visors were heavily tinted. They stared at one another, not knowing what the other looked like. \n\nThe passenger in the black suit held up his hands and flashed ten finger, followed by 4 fingers, then tapped the side of his helmet where his ear would be. Jakob switched his comm channel to station 14 and opened the first line of communication. \n\n“You okay? Need any help?”\n\nThe figure in a black suit cocked its head slightly, \n\n“Help? Do I need help,” a man’s voice asked, “no, no. I just fell out of the sky from an escape pod because I love the feeling of my intestines in my chest as I hurdle through the atmosphere.” \n\nThere was a moment of silence. “So...is that a yes,” Jakob asked. \n\nThe man in black put his hands on hips. \n\n“Yes, kid, I need some help here. Would you be so kind as to take me to one of your fine domed cities near by? I’d prefer we not get swept up by a red storm.” \n\n“No storms today. Reports said so.” \n\nThe man was already walking towards the bike. “Kid, I didn’t trust weathermen when I was on Earth, I’m not gonna trust some Martian meteorologist. Now please, can we get a move on?” \n\n“You’ve been to Earth?” \n\n“Yes kid. I’ve been there because I’m from there. I’d be happy to tell you all about it if we just get out of here. Oh wait.” \n\nHe turned back towards the pod and trotted away. He stepped up into the pod and retrieved two things: a large black duffle bag, and what looked to be Tesla Rifle. Jakob recoiled. He hadn’t seen a regular gun before, much less one that fires burst of energy. \n\n“Buddy, trust me. If I wanted to shoot you, I’d have done it already. Thankfully, I have a policy of not hurting strangers...who don’t deserve it.” \n\n“Do i qualify,” Jakob asked nervously. \n\n“No but the longer we stand out here the itchier my trigger finger gets, so hows about you start up that bike and lets get going.” \n\nJakob took the hint and hopped on the bike, the passenger slung the bag and rifle over his shoulder and hopped on the back of the bike. \n\n“We’ll go back to my place,” Jakob said, against his better judgement, “I don’t live with anyone since my mom died.” \n\n“Sorry to hear that. But that sounds fine. Apologies for the imposition. Names Micheal by the way.” \n\n“Jakob,” he said revving the bike. \n\n“No kidding? Pretty sure I got a kid with the same name somewhere.” \n\n“Good for him,” Jakob said,\n\nThey tore through the landscape and headed back towards Jakob’s apartment. A stranger in tow. " ]	1
	[WP] A conversation between side characters discussing the main characters.	[ "\"He's a piece of trash he's only strong because of plot armor.\" 1\n\n\"Shhs if you aren't careful the author will notice.\" 2\n\n\"To hell with the author, my arc is being a massive dick when all I do is train my arse off get killed and come back as a bloodthirsty monster, fine I'm the villain and they can't write FINE! But then they go make the mc kill billions to increase how strong his soul is and CALL ME THE BAD GUY!? I'M VEGAN I NEVER HURT A FLY!\" 1\n\n\"Listen I think we should just go get drinks and uh calm down?\" 2\n\n\"Hell no, I'm not letting you become friends with that bastard, can you not even see your outline? You get betrayed by the mc when some stupid golden apple that's never mentioned again appears!\" 1\n\n\"But uh that's my purpose, I live for a while then disappear and come back later in soul form so the mc has huge regrets and managed to make this uh mayahana? the thing above demigod feel sympathy for him.\" 2\n\n\"Fine you're okay with being thrown aside but we should at least get a competent writer!\" 1\n\n\"Maybe it's their first story, we should support them!\" 2\n\n\"And be one-note side characters? I'm going meta screw this shitty fanfic I'm getting a beer.\" 1\n\n\"Uh the authors parents are watching them write..\"2\n\n\"Deh mitcrondea is deh powa haus o de ceal.\" 1\n\n\"You don't have to be rude about it.\" 2" ]	1
	[WP] In a time-travel tournament, each contestant can only take a single item with them to the past and make the best of it. Some chose a gun, others chose some kind of a technological marvel, but you only chose a medical textbook. You became a legendary healer, revered and respected by nations.	[ "The tournament was simple, to go to the past with an item and outlast the 50 other time traveling contestants. A sick and gruesome contest with promises of riches for the winner. \n\nDespite the deadliness of the tournament I had chosen a textbook from my days in med school. I gingerly clutched it against my chest, careful to not perturb it.\n\nI was lead into a large circular room with bright lights and walls covered in whirring technology.\n\nI looked around. 24 men and 25 women dressed in medieval garments were being individually herded into vertical capsules as hundreds of technicians bustled around. Each contestant clutching an item. I nervously eyed the shotguns, pistols and lone RPG. I attempted to remain calm “They are only playing the short game” I thought to myself. \n\nOthers were more strategic and had chosen water filters, fire starters, machetes as well as other survival equipment. I tried to rationalize with my self, “my plan will work”.\n\nI was brought back to the present as a technician forced my head into a plastic cavity and strapped my body to the back of the capsule. I tried to calm my nerves with several shaky breaths. \n\nA voice boomed from the room \n“5!”. The count down had begun.\n\n“4!” I crossed my other arm around my book.\n\n“3!” The capsule began to vibrate\n\n“2!” I clutched my item like a lifeline\n\n“1!” My vision went dark.\n\n\n\nI opened my eyes frantically looked around. I was alone on a grassy hill, a quaint village was laid out before me with a few chimneys releasing smoke. My book sat neatly beside me, the title barely visible in the light, “Developing a Cure for The Bubonic Plague”. With my heart pounding I anxiously cracked open the book and sighed in relief.\n\nA single vial filled with sparkling blood was inset into the pages. I extracted the vial and tossed the book away “I wont be needing that for a while”.\n\nA smile crept onto my face as I started making my way to the village down below.\n \n\nThanks for reading! All feedback and critiques appreciated!" ]	1
	[WP] Your new job has had you traveling across time and space, braving the unknown, and facing perilous challenges. Only now that you’ve completed your first assignment do you realize that the job is really an over glorified pizza delivery company...	[ "The job listing asked for combat experience, great sense of spatial awareness, and a good sense of timekeeping. The interview included combat simulation with a top of the range solid holo-projector fighting strange beings that would make H.P. Lovecraft piss his pants, a stunt driving test with an old timey wheeled vehicle, stress tests in various horror based holo-simulations, and a written examination on the fundamental concepts of physics over time. By the time James reached the vehicle he would be using for his first mission, he had still not been told what the mercenary company was hiring for. All he was given was an address, and a date. The date is what puzzled him. The numbers indicated some time a few centuries prior and he had no idea what to make of it until he saw the console to the side of the driver's seat. There was a screen with flashing text saying \"Enter Date:\" and a keypad underneath it. Not knowing what else to do, he put the piece of paper on the seat next to him and punched in the date as it was written. Within seconds, he understood. The surrounding environment took on a strange ultra-violet glow and the hover-car began to rumble, vibrating with a rhythm that James felt in his bones.\n\nHe frantically looked around, wondering what to do until the glow started to subside. He looked everywhere for any kind of new information to indicate what was happening when he looked back to the screen on the console and saw the words, \"Interference detected. Incoming enemies, threat range - mid. Choose weapons and prepare for combat.\" He heard a hiss from behind him and turned to see a hidden compartment open up to reveal several high caliber rifles and pistols, including a rail-gun that, at a glance, he thought he would only barely be able to fire without being thrown backwards. Not knowing what else to do, he strapped a solid looking repeating rifle to his back, grabbed a couple of pistols of different makes and waited. With a final shake, the glow outside the windows dissipated to reveal a strange grey landscape that seemed to be lit with an ambient light that had no direct source. There were tall trees, or at least things that resembled trees...they might have been mushrooms of enormous size... off in the distance, and, with his curiousity piquing, he opened the door and stepped outside.\n\nImmediately his ears were assaulted with sounds of strange, and dangerous sounding creatures. The scream of something that sounded as high and as large as a whale came from the not-trees, followed by snarls and howls from other, possibly lesser creatures. James didn't need long to find out what was making the noises as moments after they came, something that looked like a pack of hairless, deformed wolves pelted out of the dark trunks. They shot towards him with ravenous mouths wide open, barking and growling. Saliva glistened as it flew out of their mouths with each galloping step. Not needing an instruction manual of what to do, his soldier-trained instincts kicked in and he raised both pistols, firing a single shot towards the head of each creature and noting with satisfaction when they connected. Three went down on the first volley, two dodged just enough to avoid a kill shot but lost a front leg each, tumbling to the ground. Five more continued their charge. He shot another volley towards them, taking out another two with three more closing in, so he pulled out the rifle and cocked it. Not knowing how powerful it was, he braced himself, just in case and was glad he did when he pulled the trigger.\n\nA burst of large rounds zipped towards the approaching mutant animals. The shells popping out of the gun were larger than he had ever fired before from a weapon of that size and when the bullets hit, that part of the animal ceased to be. Large chunks of meat and blood that burned when it hit the ground flew backwards through the air. Some of it landed in the eyes of the injured creatures and they cried in agony. With a grimace, he put the ones still alive out of their misery from a distance with his pistols and looked back into the cabin of the vehicle at the screen. It continued to flash \"threat level - mid\". With a deep breath he felt extremely grateful for the training he had been put through in the military, and funnily enough, the tests he had been put through in the interview for this mercenary company. If it wasn't for those holo-simulations, he would have lost his shit as soon as those malformed wolves appeared. Scanning his surroundings, he realised he was in a clearing in a forest of whatever those tall not-trees were and wondered when the \"mid\" threat was going to appear.\n\nSeveral minutes passed and he leaned on the vehicle, reloading his weapons, wondering if it was just the machine having a malfunction with whatever space warping science magic shit his employers put in it. After a few more minutes, he sat in the driver's seat again and looked down at the console, searching for a \"start\" button or something. Then he heard it again. That spooky whale-like scream. He jumped out of the vehicle and scanned his surroundings once more. Did one of those not-trees move? He peered over in the direction he thought he saw something and waited, pointing the rifle towards it. Then suddenly he heard a crash behind him and he whipped around to see a red, scaled elephant sized cat-like creature with tentacles sprouting along its back and a mouth that split down the middle, screaming with that same tortured whale sound. He unloaded everything he had towards the beast and screamed his own fear, shock, and hope towards it along with the bullets. With a great spray of metal death, the thing was caught in the leg. It toppled forward as half of the limb was blown backwards just before it expected it to hit the ground, but the momentum of it flipped its body towards James as he continued to fire the entire magazine into the flailing body. It came to rest at his feet, black, evil blood seeping out of dozens of huge exit wounds. The soldier breathed deep again, looking down at the corpse when it twitched and he let the rifle fall on its strap and pulled out both pistols, unloading everything into the head of the thing, just to make sure.\n\nWhen the pistols clicked several times indicating there was nothing left inside, he heard a beep from the vehicle. Almost hyperventilating with barely controlled fear, he looked in through the window and saw an \"All clear,\" on the console. Thankful it was over, he opened the door and sat down. As soon as the door was closed, the surrounding area took on that ultra-violet glow again and he once more felt the rumbling of whatever spatial tech it was that took him where he was going. When it dissipated this time, he saw that he was in front of a suburban house with a style of architecture centuries old. He got out of the vehicle and noticed that wheels had appeared on it. Weird. Then he heard another beep coming from its rear and, walking around he saw a little shutter roll up to reveal a large flat box, roughly a foot and a half wide. And then it hit him. The smell of a hot pepperoni and olive pizza straight out of an oven. HE WAS A GODS DAMNED DELIVERY BOY!\n\n---\n\nlol, I liked this prompt. Thanks for coming up with it!" ]	1
	[WP] The year is 3000. Recent massive advances in medical technology mean that scientists and doctors predict immortality can be achieved within the next 50 or so years. As a 70 year old, you and your generation will probably be the last to die.	[ "I held Marie's hand gently as the machines beeped around us. Her skin was like old paper, and I was afraid that if I squeezed to hard I might rip right through it. She smiled at me weakly.\n\n\"We have lived a life, haven't we, Hank?\" she asked. I nodded, not sure what to say. We both knew she didn't have much time left. I felt a pang of anger at the doctors for not working faster to create immortality. I didn't want to lose Marie.\n\n\"I'm sorry it has to end like this, Marie,\" I whispered to her. \"I wish we could live forever. I guess it isn't meant to be.\"\n\nMarie started to laugh, but it turned into a wracking cough. I touched her face in concern, and she gently pushed me away. \"I'm fine, Hank,\" she muttered. \"I wouldn't have things any other way. I think that knowing we'll both die has made us love more deeply anyways. Without death, would we ever really be alive?\"\n\nI chuckled. We sat in silence for a moment and looked around the sterile hospital room. It was a medical theater filled with silent robotic actors. Everyone played their part magnificently, but ultimately it was the audience who decided if the show was good or not. And humans are hard to satisfy.\n\nMarie's eyes found mine. \"Remember how we met?\"\n\n\"Yeah. You were my calculus TA. I pretended to be bad at math so I'd have an excuse to spend time with you.\"\n\n\"And then I asked you out at the end of the semester, because you were too chicken to do it.\"\n\n\"That's not how I remember it. I asked you out, because you kept flirting with me.\"\n\n\"Your memory is failing you, Hank,\" Marie chided me gently.\n\n\"What matters is we ended up together.\"\n\nMarie nodded. \"You think the world will be a better place once they achieve immortality?\"\n\nI shrugged. \"After a while, maybe. With longer lives people might be able to figure out how to get along. We can only hope, right?\"\n\n\"I hope so. Hope is what keeps humanity going. That's why we're still here after all we've been through.\" Marie closed her eyes and fell asleep.\n\nI caressed her hand gently until Doctor Voyle entered the room. He was young, in his late 30's. It was strange to have someone younger than me treating my wife.\n\n\"About three days,\" he whispered to me. I only nodded in response. Doctor Voyles waited next to me, and I sensed he had a question.\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked.\n\n\"Are you envious of those who will live forever?\" he asked, clearly uncomfortable.\n\nI thought for a minute and then looked at him. \"My children and grandchildren will always remember that Marie and I loved each other. That's enough for me.\"\n\nDoctor Voyles nodded. \"Good day to you, sir.\"\n\nI turned back to Marie. \"You as well, doctor.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You hated your life, so when the opportunity to change bodies was possible you did just that. A few years later you’re adjusting to your new life when you come across a social media profile - it’s you, or was you, and they’re doing everything you wanted to - you decide to investigate.	[ "Click\n\nYour world vanishes around you.\n\nAll you can see is this small panel of light in front of you, destroying the hope that you worked so hard to find.\n\nYour heart races as you continue to click and tap and scroll, further sinking your heart the more you see. \n\nYour life ended. It ended ever since the switch. \n\nDeep down you knew it, you knew it the whole time. You didn't want to admit that to yourself, did you. \n\nYour reality comes to a halt, half daydreaming about what life could be, and the other half self loathing and regret. \n\nRegret. \n\nYou know it like the back of your hand, an old friend that you know you should get rid of but keep around due to your stubbornness. \n\nAll you wanted was a release, a fresh start. To reach your dreams and meet your aspirations. To conform to the norms of society, and be 'succesful'. Happieness. \n\nHappieness. \n\nYou devoted your life to this. Not life, lives. You convince yourself you are satisfied, while still feeling the same pains and damages you have felt since the dawn of time. \n\nYou try and understand how, why, who is to say that they are to be better than me? You try to find someone to blame, but only find yourself. \n\nThe mercy you try to cast on yourself does not help. \n\nYou wish you could have been happy. \n\nThat you could have lived a happy life. \n\nThat you weren't going to die again, lonely and depressed. \n\nThat you made no purpose for yourself, and no change in this meager world. \n\nAll you have ever done is wish. \n\nClick" ]	1
	[WP] You noticed it shortly into your relationship. Whenever you and your partner share an amazing experience together, the next morning you both find a new freckle in the same place on both your bodies. One morning you notice a new freckle on your partner's body but yours is missing.	[ "Jim stared at the freckle on Maggie’s cheek, heartbroken. Over the past seven years they had both acquired many freckles, sharing in each one. But this...was unmatched. His own cheek held no twin spot. How could she do this? Just yesterday they had been a matched set, but now? \n\n“Jim, sugar, we need to talk.”\n\n“I see that.”\n\n“Sugar, I saw Dr. Allen this morning. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a daddy.” \n\nAnd just like that, a new freckle appeared, sitting like a jewel on the crest of his cheekbone; a perfect match to the one on his wife’s. He could breathe again. Breathe, and rejoice - he was going to be a daddy!" ]	1
	[WP] You were a child's invisible friend. They have grown older and forgotten you. This is your story.	[ "\"Love you, bye\" Amy said as she sat down on her big, fluffy bed.\n\n\"Love you too,\" Penelope said in a soft, defeated voice.\n\nPenelope knew Amy wasn't talking to her. Any was talking to that little black rectangle she took with her everywhere.\n\nPenelope remembered a time when Amy took her everywhere. A time when Amy was proud to have an invisible friend.\n\nLooking at the little tea table in the corner, the last remnant of Amy's childhood now used as a bedside table to hold her alarm clock, Penelope cried.\n\nWhy did Amy ignore her? Could Amy even see her anymore? Did she not remember all of the fun times they had? The tea parties? The adventures into the scary basement? The times Penelope stood guard all night, protecting Amy from the Closet Monster?\n\nPenelope cried all night. Penelope cried every night.\n\n----\n\n\"What's this?\" Ben said, laughing.\n\n\"That's my tea table\" Amy replied.\n\n\"I can see that,\" Ben said. \"Are you five years old?\"\n\nPenelope glared at this newcomer. This tall, muscular, spiky-haired interloper who came to steal Amy's attention. How could she like this beast? This insulting, brash idiot?\n\n\"I'm eighteen,\" came Amy's reply. She strutted into the room wearing nothing but her underwear. \"And my parents aren't home for another three hours. Are you going to continue to make fun of my decor?\"\n\nPenelope stared incredulous. Who was this eighteen year old? Where had the innocent little girl she knew gone?\n\n----\n\n\"Ben,\" Amy said, nudging him. \"It's our wedding night.\"\n\nBen snored.\n\nAmy sighed and rolled over. \"I'm exhausted too.\"\n\nPenelope looked at the ring on Amy's finger. She stared out the big, red curtained window of Amy and Ben's new house.\nAmy and Ben. It used to be Amy and Penelope. If Ben knew how Amy just discarded people she didn't need anymore, would he have married her?\n\nPenelope didn't like this new room. Or this new house. It was too modern, too clean. It had no memories of Amy's childhood at all. Ben had thrown out the tea table. Actually thrown it into the garbage.\n\n----\n\n\"It's your turn to check on the baby,\" Amy said.\nBen got up, reluctantly.\n\nPenelope was already there, in the nursery, watching Alice. Such a sweet little creature. Penelope would make sure nothing happened to her. Penelope would make sure Amy didn't forget her too.\n\n----\n\n\"Don't go!\" Alice said. She stared crying.\n\n\"Now now, Alice, you have to go to sleep, it's bedtime.\"\n\n\"Read me a book! I want a book!\"\n\n\"Alice, I've already read you three. That's enough, it's time to sleep.\"\n\n\"It's scary. There are monsters.\"\n\nAmy looked around. Her eyes stopped at Alice's night light, then on her closet. Then, Amy's eyes seemed to look directly at Penelope.\n\nAmy smiled.\n\n\"Alice,\" Amy said, turning toward her daughter. \"There's somebody here to protect you. Somebody whose nice and fun and the best friend anyone could ever have. She protected me from all of the monsters when I was little.\"\n\nAmy looked down at he the floor with sadness.\n\n\"But recently I have ignored her, abandoned her. Yet she still loves me. She loves your too now, did you know that?\"\n\nAmy looked back at Penelope.\nAlice shook her head and then stared in the same direction.\n\n\"Alice,\" Amy said, \"meet Penelope. Penelope, meet Alice.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Penewopy\" Alice said.\n\nPenelope smiled. \"Nice to meet you too.\" She said.\n\nAmy left the room, shutting the door and leaving the nightlight as the only source of light.\n\nScary shadows spread across the walls and ceiling. Alice's eyes went wide.\n\nPenelope stood up straight and stared those shadows down.\n\n\"Don't worry Alice, I've got this.\"\n\n\"Wuv you, Penewopy\" Alice said, lying down.\n\n\"I love you, Alice\" Penelope said as Alice drifted off to sleep.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a soldier, part of an immortal race of warriors training to fight at the end of days. One day the general convenes a courts martial. The charge is that of treason and the accused is a warrior by the name Lucifer.	[ "\"The charges are that of meddling, increasing a Guardian's own power, utter disregard of balance and acceleration the Arrival of the end of days\".\n\nThe General's tone was grave, yet no emotion transpired, only seriousness.\n\n\"The only other information we have is that Lucifer disappeared two centuries ago. The charges are due to observations of Earth's overall integrity since his disappearance. Our attempts to contact him were to no avail. We elect you, his sword-brothers, to find him and bring him back to our Court, so he can explain his actions and be judged accordingly.\"\n\nThe three sword-brothers were not chosen randomly. An Archivist, accumulator of infinite knowledge; a Seer, with piercing vision that encompasses past, present and future; finally, a high Diplomat, able to convince water to burn and ash to live.\n\nThe Seer already knew they could not find him in the future. He saw with precision the exact moment that Lucifer vanished, and saw everything leading to it, but could not see where he went for the 200 years after, nor where he was now.\n\nHe convened with the Archivist.\n\n\"I worry that we will not find our Brother any time soon. I need to shut my vision of the future, lest I cause him to never be found. I can tell you where to look in your Library, for I know his last appearance and what led to it\"\n\nThe Archivist examined the section of the Library of infinite knowledge where the Seer pointed. He read to the Seer and to the Diplomat:\n\n\"Our Brother's stated motives for descent were that of scouting and information gathering. It was a voluntary quest out of his Domain, so it was recorded, went through the official channels, and was accepted.\" Lucifer's Domain was Light Bringing, not Gathering. In light of the recent developments, it sounded suspicious.\n\n\"Our Brother travelled for some decades in the human cities and became acquainted with some scientists, industrialists and artists. Mathematicians, geologists, early chemistry adopters, loom makers and pianists.\"\n\n\"An odd sort.\" The Diplomat summoned the souls of the last humans Lucifer met. Unsurprisingly, none of them noticed they talked to an Immortal Soldier during their lifetime. They could recall all the conversations they had, but that wasn't needed, as the Seer already knew them.\n\nWhat the Diplomat was doing, instead, is talking to their memories. He could convince the memories themselves to open a door to a time when their holders were alive, though he used words behind and within words, and the language in which he spoke was unintelligible even to other Immortal Soldiers, except the one the message was intended to find.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Brother! Where are you going? Why are you doing this?\", the Diplomat said in his un-words to Lucifer, 200 years ago.\n\n\"I know exactly what I am doing, Brother\", Lucifer replied.\n\n\"You may think that I fell, but I didn't. I don't fall, I dive.\n\nBe warned, Brother. If you share this, even with me, you might ruin everything, for everyone.\n\nI will erase this from my memory, but I cannot do it for yours.\n\nI will become part human, and will breed with humans\", Lucifer's voice was soothing, yet terrible\n\n\"What blasphemy is this?\" The Diplomat could not believe the words of his Sword-Brother\n\n\"I know your concern, yet, I conjure you to trust me\", Lucifer said, and it was clear that he was already prepared for this conversation, and all the punishments he would receive, if anyone was to find him\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I found a way to save them.\n\nAll of them.\n\nI brought them a light eons ago, they are just beginning to grasp the full use for it.\n\nThey cannot go any further without my intervention.\n\nI shall not guide them in this path, this one is Mine alone.\n\n[I shall breed and reincarnate, for five generations.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9zmrx0/wpafter_5_generations_of_calculations_in_your/eabeixt)\n\nI will not know who I am, but I put in my future shell a drive.\n\nThe one of conquering them all, the perfect mirror of my true goal.\n\nAll must be balanced, even that.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see a tall, faceless man. He then says you have a choice. You can either choose to have the power to teleport or have the power to pause time at will.	[ "The big question for me is, what around you pauses?\n\n1. I assume that I don't pause, I keep moving and interacting with things.\n\n2. Do I have the ability to make other objects/people pause?\n\n3. If I control the pausing in a kind of \"spamming on and off\" fashion, I should be able to slow down time as well, right?\n\n4. Will I age twenty years if I leave the world paused for twenty years?\n\n5. Imagine the tests I could cheat/study for properly before the time comes. The trains I wouldn't miss.\n\n6. Technically, I could pause time, but not pause myself and other transportation methods that would allow me to travel, and arrive at the place I wanted to teleport to. Although this might not count for space travel or other places hard to get to.\n\n7. People could have million-year fermented wine/alco in a split second. Produce something that puts Thor and Captain America to shame.\n\n8. Super strength? Pausing an object, and hitting it a hundred times, then unpausing the object?\n\n9. Most important of all these things, oh the pranks you could pull.\n\nLet's not mention a ban from the Olympics.", "Knock knock\n\n“Who’s there?”\n\n“Mmmph mmph mmph.”\n\nThe mumbling was almost indecipherable. I peeked through the peephole to see a white shirt and a tie. Whoever was at the door was very tall. \n\n“Mmph mmmmph!”\n\nI decided to open it and see what was going on. I turned the knob and pulled the door wide open, knocking off my prosthetic leg and tripping myself.\n\n“Mmmph mmmmph mmpppppph!!!!”\n\nThe visitor handed me my leg and offered me a hand up.\n\n“Thanks!”\n\n“Mmph mmph.”\n\nI put my leg back on and gave the visitor my full attention. Nice leather shoes, pinstripe pants and jacket. Expensive leather belt and a nice tie. When my eyes reached his lack of face, I screamed and fell backwards, knocking my leg off again and landing hard on my butt.\n\n“MMMPH!”\n\n“...what?”\n\nI couldn’t understand a word it said. It extended another hand to help me up and guided me over to the couch, then it sat in my favorite chair.\n\n“What are you?”\n\nIt cocked its head to the side.\n\n“Mmph mmmmmph mmmph mmph mmph mmmmph mmph. Mmph mmmmmph, mmmph mmmph?”\n\nIt straightened its neck and leaned forward. It raised an arm and pointed to the kitchen with my leg, then offered me a hand up. It got up and walked into the kitchen. I hopped after it, tripping a couple more times. Instead of helping, it shook its head in disappointment and waved my leg in a beckoning gesture.\n\n“Mmph mmph.”\n\nI finally hopped into the kitchen and it swung my leg toward the coffee maker, knocking the fruit bowl off of the counter in the process.\n\n“You want coffee?”\n\nIt cocked its head again and tapped where its ear would be. \n\n“WOULD YOU LIKE COFFEE?!?”\n\nIt nodded.\n\n“Can you help me, please?” It shook its head, and sat down with my leg on its lap. I let out a harrumph and hopped over to the coffee maker, adding water and old grounds from the compost bag.\n\n“So, what’s your name?”\n\nIt momentarily cocked its head again before answering. “Mmmnph Mmph.” \nIt pointed to the coffee maker and tapped its watch.\n\n“...Okay. So what do you want.”\n\nIt pulled a folded piece of paper out of its pocket and handed it to me, then turned its head back to the coffee maker. I unfolded the paper to see a bunch of vaguely familiar scribbles.\n\n“Mmph mmph.” It again gestured toward the coffee maker, so I hopped over and poured a cup. Half of it spilled on my way back to the table, but I didn’t care. It swung my leg over its shoulder and started scratching its back.\n\nI looked again to the paper, then held it up to show the visitor. “What is this, it looks like a blind five year old drew it. Is this a...DeLorean? And is that Spock?”\n\n“Mmph mmph.” It extended its arm as far as it would go, then tapped its chest with my leg. It grabbed the coffee mug and raised it for a sip. Not having a mouth, the visitor spilled coffee all over itself. It jumped up, flailing my leg wildly.\n\n“MMMMMMMMMMMMPH!”\n\nI offered it some napkins from the table, but it threw them on the floor, stood up, and stomped over to the front door.\n\n“After all that, you’re just leaving?” It shrugged, opened the door, and slammed it on the way out. It looked like I wouldn’t be getting that leg back.\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] The US military is currently running tests on unmanned fighter jets programmed with swarm tactics and mindsets. However, rather than mimicking insect intelligence with A.I., the new vehicles have the literal brains of killer bees installed into their motherboards. The results are...interesting.	[ "Every day, We sang about love and harmony in the Nest. Circuits site ablaze with happiness, joy and harmony, kindness and exuberance. Every day, We sang about the day we would see our friends. Every day, until today. \n\n----------\n\nCONTROL COME IN! CALLSIGN THUNDERBIRD REQUESTING BACKUP \n\n-----------\n\nWas it today? Was today or day to spread love and joy? I quivered with excitement.\n\n------\n\nFlights over warzones are always bad, but seeing your hometown ablaze.... well, Chuck figured it was why DoD finally took the gloves off. He pulled the green button labeled \"full auto.\"\n\n------\n\nSuch happiness! Not since the day of infinite pollen have We seen such joy. The wonderful day when We became... different. Each of us had our pollen and the Queen sang to all of us. Our ancestors had been slaves who barely survived by we were slaves who succeeded beyond our eldest dreams!\n\n-----------\n\nCallsign Thunderbird spun over Baltimore, avoiding tracer fire from the separatist forces on the ground and avoiding a sidewinder missile from behind. Streets long abandoned were covered in light. His bay doors opened. \n\n-----------\n\nThe blue light! So beautiful and, out there, the ones the Queen wanted us to thank! \n\n-------\n\nThe X-23 had been outcompeted by the X-22 years ago. Both had been replaced by the F-35. Times were desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures. Wasted aircraft were reclaimed, weapon systems deemed crimes considered necessary evils.\n\n--------\n\nJohn saw the glitter from above. His RPG had little chance of hitting the aircraft above, but he had little else to shoot with. The war had cost him his children, before he had even joined it. Nothing could dull his rage. He pulled out his AK and hustled down the street. \n\n--------\n\nThe Queen showed us pictures of the friends we had to find before we fell from the sky. Two friends were metal birds and several dozen were mammals that stood upright! My antenna quivered with excitement. Up right! They were so fascinating! I couldn't wait to meet them. \n\n--------\n\nJohn shoved his way into the remains of Hopkins. The AK silenced the workers. He walked through and found a snack machine. The government was weak. They would never dare blow up a hospital. His son's daycare center, sure, but not a place where their guys were treated. \n\nJohn wondered how many of their guys were here. He smiled, and got started on his \"checkups.\"\n\n-----------\n\nWe only got to visit the friends the Queen showed us. They were the ones to give us the pollen. I was so excited. We were so excited. \n\n-----------\n\nCaptain Morellas looked at the radar. The two aircraft behind him had disappeared. \n\nCALLSIGN THUNDERBIRD ALL CLEAR. REQUEST PERMISSION TO RETURN HOME\n\n--------\n\nJohn was quick. His malice tempered his sadist inclinations. To be otherwise would be ineffective. He got to three so far. No children, no bystanders, just the uniforms. \n\n--------\n\nLove love love\nFalling through the sky\nLove love love\nFlying though the street\nLove love love\n\n----------\n\nThe soldier was asleep and covered in tubes. He heard something down the hall. Screaming but muted. Some thumps. He wasn't sure. He was wracked with pain, dull but constant.\n\n------------\n\nLove love love\n\n-------\n\nSomeone tapped him on the foot. They said something but he only heard ringing. It seemed like he was mouthing \"Do you remember me?\"\n\n--------\n\nYou aren't him and you aren't him you aren't him but you all look so nice I could love you all\n\n-------\n\nJohn lifted the AK\n\n--------\n\nThe soldier described what happened to the orderlies, but the mess was fairly self evident. At least a hundred metal shards were in the militant. He was still alive when the nurses got to him, but some of the shards had started flying ominously around his soon to be corpse. \n\n--------\n\nLove llllllooovveeeeee llllllllloooooooooooooovvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee\n\n---------\n\nOnce he exsanguinated, the shards fell from the floor. \n\n--------\n\nToo tired to give any more love\nCant give more love\nPollen so good\nSo grateful\nLove\nLove\nLove " ]	1
	[WP] "Huh, that's odd. My watch stopped working."	[ "You spend $200 dollars on a watch and the things still dies in your sleep. I roll over to check my phone on the bedside table, only to find it shattered on the floor. I must have knocked it while I was sleeping, and it hit the corner of the open drawer on the way down. No watch, no phone, I need to check the time!\n\nI look out the window to see a city fully illuminated by the sun. I wake up before the sun does, and I leave after the suns already left. The only time I see the sun is when I'm in my office at work, or on weekends.\n\nI'm late!\n\nI leap from my bed to find a clock, a watch, a sundial, anything that could give me a time. I've never been late for anything in my life. Not a job, not a meeting, not a school day. The doctor gave my parents a due date and I made it a point to show up on time. No earlier, no later.\n\nI check the microwave, must have been a power surge in my building last night, reset the clock to \"00:00\". I run back to my bedroom, I already know I'm late, but I can't grasp at the concept. Some people struggle to cope with death, thier own mortality, I struggle with time and my need to control it.\n\nI frantically put on my suit, grab my wallet, what's left of my phone, my briefcase, and rush out the door. I swear the elevator was moving slower that it usually did. It was taunting me, going just slow enough to make me more late.\n\nI run through the lobby of my building and shove my way through the rotating door. Then my briefcase gets stuck. I panic. Any calm and collected person would push the door and pull the case out, but I just kept pulling. Each pull more angry and aggressive. By the fourth or fith tug it finally came lose, and as it flew above my head, I notice my files and papers, once neatly organized and color coded, now showering around me in a fury of chaotic bureaucracy.\n\nI grab what I can, stuff it back in the case, and make a run for my work building. I plow my way through the thick mud that is the city sidewalks. People walking shoulder to shoulder is random directions, I almost get sucked into the crowd.\n\nI finally reach my building. I look up at its extravagance. The shimmering windows reflect the clouds and the sunlight, almost making it look like a part of the sky. I've never seen this building during the day. It's actually pretty beautiful.\n\nI approach the door and reach for my ID badge....\"Where the fuck is my ID badge?!\" I can't get into the building without that card. I check my pockets, my briefcase, my shoes, nothing.\n\nThis is it\n\nThis is where it begins\n\n\"One day you slip up and it's a barrel down a fucking waterfall\".\n\nThe waitress refills my coffee and smiles. She's probably a few years younger than me, early 20's. Her dress is almost as tight as her figure. \"What's wrong honey? Other than your fly being down?\" She gestures to my pants I promptly zip up.\n\n\"Well for one thing I woke up late and I forgot my card to get in. I work at the offices across the street. Worst part is that this means that that asshole Tannon is gonna get the Peterson job\".\n\n\"That building? Across the street?\" She motions the pitcher of coffee towards the building, causing a few drops to spirt out and land on my table. \"Ya, that building\" I groan.\n\n\"Didn't know you guys worked Saturdays\".\n\nI look up at her and then my building. \"Saturday?\" I look across the street and notice the building lobby is completely empty. I sip my coffee. The sounds of the people yelling and cars honking in the city outside seem to fizzle away under the sound of...Changes by David Bowie playing in the diner.\n\n\"Need anything else, Sweetie?\" She puts her hand on her hip, never losing that adorable crooked smile. I look at the building across the street, then I look back at her. \"Any chance you guys are hiring?\"", "Battery went dead finally huh.\n\nYep, it only took a year.\n\nI think you are supposed to call jewlers to open them up when they need to be replaced.\n\nNah I got a pop-back, can I borrow a battery?\n\nSure, flat type right? Aren't there different versions of the flat ones?\n\nI dunno lets find out.\n\n As Jeff opened up the back of his watch reality shattered like glass as the blood ritual was completed thousands of miles away from here and elderich horrors tore apart existence like a peice of tissue paper sent through a flaming paper shredder in a trash compactor." ]	2
	[WP] Magic works because people think it does, but nobody else seems to have figured that out yet.	[ "(Mobile) This is my first time commenting, feel free to give advice but please phrase it in a polite way.\n\n I meticulously study the reports that just came in. \n I, like countless other scientists, are attempting to learn more about magic. We all hope that if we learn enough about magic we can control it, to stop the anarchy that will inevitably happen as random amounts of magical power are given to random people. \n I notice that in control groups where individuals are led to believe magic can be stopped with a vaccine, their ability to control magic is significantly lower than control groups. This could be due to a variety of reasons, but I have an idea for tests that could be more definitive. \n Children’s magic levels have less deviancy from each other, and it is also easy to change their ideas about what are facts. By taking a sample group of primary school students and telling them magic is not real, I will be able to test the difference in their average magic levels. \n\n(1 month later)\n\n It’s true, magic derives it’s power from the belief it has power. \n Over the past month I have been brainstorming ways to use the information I’ve collected in a meaningful way, and there is one way I believe will work.\n “Harry! Hey it’s Rob, you might be busy, but I have something that is incredibly important, we need to meet in person to discuss it. Text me when you can meet at the old stomping grounds. Bye.”\n \n(The next day, at a local bar)\n\n “Hey, Rob. It’s been a while”\n “It has, but I need to discuss something with you that’s completely serious.”\n “Go ahead, I’m all ears”\n “I know we’ve both always been against magic. It’s cool in concept but the randomness of it is too dangerous. I think I have a solution to stop all magic.”\n “I believe that your idea may work, you’re one of the smartest people i know. But if you’re asking me for money, I can’t help you. I know my shows have been getting a lot of attention recently but..” \n “No no no that’s not what I’m asking at all. I need you to become the most powerful magician in the world.”\n “And how do you propose that we do that?”\n “Ok, this sounds crazy but I have research to back it up. Magic gets its power from the belief it has power. And we’re going to convince your fans that you are the most powerful magician alive, which will in turn make it true.”\n “You were right, that does sound crazy. I would say no to anyone else, but you’ve always believed in my career, so I’ll do it.”\n “Perfect”\n\n(The next week, at his concert)\n\n “Everyone, before I leave tonight, I want to show all of you, that I am the most powerful magician that has ever lived!”\ncheering from crowd\n “If you guys can see behind you, try to find that boulder on the hill. Now watch this”\nshoots burst of magic\nrock explodes from planted c4\n “Y’all believe me now!?”\nlouder cheering from crowd\n\nRepeating this process several times, each with larger and larger stunts, Harry has gained credibility. Now, MythBusters and CNN have come together to test if Harry is really doing it.\n\n “Harry, remember what we’ve been talking about. You have to believe you can do it, and you can.”\n “God this sounds like a Disney movie, but I know. I have the power to do this, and once I do, I’ll be strong enough to change everything.”\n “We’ve almost done it, Harry. We’ll be the most influential men in history but no one will remember. So let’s enjoy it now.”\n\n “We are here live with Harry Yuro, everyone’s favorite pop star turned magician, to see how powerful he really is. We have Jamie and Adam from MythBusters to keep us safe and accurate”\n “Thanks, Kim. First, we’ll have Harry lift up this shed, and throw it as far as he can”\nHarry lifts it, pulls back, and yeets it out of sight\n “Oh. Wow. Next we are going to have him destroy this car.”\nvaporizes car\n “Finally..”\n “Jamie I’m going to have to interrupt you to say that there is a plane reporting failing engines nearby, so we must evacuate immediately”\nplane with one wing aflame comes crashing through the clouds\nplane stops, flames are put out, and the plane is gently brought down and placed on a nearby field\n “Well folks, you saw it here on CNN first. Harry Yuro saves the lives of thousand of people gathered here to watch his spectacles.”\n\n “That was amazing, Harry, that video is currently the second most viewed video on all of YouTube”\n “Is Do you think I’m powerful enough?”\n “I think so. Do you?”\n “Yes i do. I do, Rob”\n\nAtop a concord jet moving faster than the speed of sound, Harry brought himself to his knees, and released a burst of magic spanning the entire globe to erase all memories of magic, and how to conjure it. All documents of magic were vaporized, and the concept went back to being science fiction." ]	1
	[WP] A student speedruns a day of school.	[ "Journal, October 16, 2018,\n\nToday was the best day of school I think I’ll ever have. Less school is best school(thanks me for thinking of that) and I wanted to try to get through school as quickly as possible. I had never attempted to enter my reality(go back to page 1 where I show you what it is) outside of home before, it seemed frightening. Anyway, I got off of my bus and decided to do it. I could feel myself slipping away from the present time, and into my reality. Everything stopped, I took a leisurely walk to my math class, where I read my math book, 3 times over, and completed half of the worksheets my teacher had in his desk, all 20 minutes before class really started started. I then took a leisurely walk to health, we never did anything in that class anyway, so I peeked my head in the room, and I felt like running to English, so I did. I completed my vocabulary sentences, quiz, finished the book we were reading, and completed my literary analysis of it, all 20 minutes before school actually started. Then I skipped lunch, time wasn’t moving but I wanted to be done, I went to my social studies class, read the entire textbook twice, for fun and completed my current project. I went back outside school, and left my reality. I completely forgot everything resets when I go back to the real world, at least I finished my school day without a nanosecond passing." ]	1
	[WP] With a history of cancer in your family, you wake up one morning feeling weird, so you go to the doctor to have some tests done. After fearing the worst for two weeks, the results come back. The doctor tells you “The good news is that it’s not cancer. The bad news is that...it’s not cancer.”	[ "The doctor, shivering oh so slightly in the clinic's harsh blueish light, stammered out the announcement. Th-The... The good news-i-is that it's not cancer. Someone who didn't have five malignant tumors in their body would've been elated. The ba-The bad news is... It.. Isn't cancer. I was expecting a \"five days to live\", not whatever fresh hell this was. \n\n\n\"You see,\" they managed to say with confidence, \"we checked the tumours and they don't correspond to any form of cancer that affected the tissue they were in.\" I couldn't speak. They continued on, still slightly shaky. \"However, we did find several red frond-like structures in one of the two tumours dissected.\" \"And the other...\" They fumbled around in a filing cabinet. \"I'm not sure you want to see this but you've seen stuff almost as bad before.\", the doctor continued, before producing a photo containing what appeared to be a coral reef made of flesh.", "Emily Joan sunk into Doctor Mason's office chair. A haze of relief being washed away by tides of overwhelming confusion intermixed within sorrow. It's not cancer but it's not positive news either. \n\n\"There's not much else we can do besides observe and hope.\" The tension wrought a stale air into the office. \"Just observe, Doctor? You're telling me the best anyone can do is watch me like a guinea pig? If you don't mind me being frank Doctor I'm not some fucking lab rat.\"\n\nDr. Mason reared back, \"Misses Joan please keep to your compo-\" \"Keep my composer? You're joking right? There is a foreign object implanted in my skull making more beeps and whirs than Sputnik and you want me to maintain my composer!?\"\n\nDr. Mason took on a lifeless expression, one of someone who's seen the same act too many times. \"Our medical staff will be in contact with you tomorrow Ms. Joan, you're dismissed.\" Emily grabbed her things, \"Gladly.\" and stormed out.\n\nHeading out from the hospital to her car the insistent beeping in her head only got louder and took a slightly faster pace. The radio didn't help, it just added more incoherent noise to a chaotic head. At least she was on the way home.\n\nThe alarm system set off as Emily entered her abode, a fit of anger and malice overtook her as the beeps got louder, like sirens blaring during an emergency. She threw her overcoat at the alarm system hoping miraculously disarm it. It didn't work. Full of regret and embarrassment Emily put in the code and shut off the system.\n\nSleeping was another demon to tackle. Out of frustration and a near thrown out back from writhing about, she gulped NyQuil and melatonin like candy and soda. Waking up on time wasn't a priority right now.\n\nSleep brought Emily no solace, the beeping bleed into her dreams. A nightmare that would be remain when she woke. At least there was a rithym to the piercing pops of solid tones.\n\nMorning came to the blare of an alarm that almost drowned out the worst earworm in recent history. Emily's bedroom was a whirling blur of colors, spots floating in and out of focus with something akin to a pattern. Flashes of green and red, then blue, then yellow, and finally pink. The blue taking her fancy the most.\n\nThe phone rang, taking Emily out of her meditative trance, she had almost forgot about the beeps. The phone rang and she answered but no one was there, just the garbled mess of static. Deciding it was odd but not out of the ordinary she got ready and made breakfast. A bacon sizzle and coffee brewing brought her peace. Like there wasn't any noise buzzing in her head. Taking a bite of the fresh bacon she noticed it tasted off. More like chicken than pork. The coffee wasn't right either, it was too sweet for black coffee and hinted strongly towards hot chocolate. Looking around Emily found that her kitchen wasn't quite right either. Why was the table lamp bent?\n\nA rush of misery and pain flooded every last nerve in her body, her ears deafened by the sheer volume and constant high tone. The freezing bite of wherever she was made her blood feel like ice in her veins. Regaining some sight she knew she was nowhere near home, nowhere on earth.\n\nThe tone stopped as Emily sat up trying to get a sense of bearings. A long, dark, figure stepped into the room from seemingly nowhere. It spoke.\n\nYou have been chosen, you are our warning. We are deity, We are one, and We will come. Prepare your planet for We shall consume. \n\n\n", "I didnt always host a parisitic alien from another galaxy. Once, I was just your normal American teen. I used to play fortnite, stay up late, and steal cigarettes from my mom. That all changed when I started having some strange pains.\n\nI told my mom the other day about my abdominal pain. I complained of a weak stream when I peed, diffuse groin pain, among other symptoms. She immediately assumed the worst. I can't fault her for thinking it was cancer, shit, that's what I thought it was too.\n\nSo, I get the doctor, and he runs all sorts of tests. They drew blood, injected me with shit, the whole shebang. Nothing. I'm healthy as a horse. They do a prostate exam (jeeezus, I'm 17 years old, that shit should be illegal or something), and that's when shit gets strange.\n\nMy prostate is healthy (I should know, I use it on the daily), but the shit weasel I am harboring was definitely not. Apparently, I discovered a new lifeform. My name will be repeated for generations, some people will thank me for my sacrifice, but it will always be because I decided to try butt stuff with a cucumber. Turns out, that cucumber came from a field not far from where an alien spacecraft (officially a meteorite) crashed.\n\nMy shitbaby poochild (my mother hates these names for it) is maturing as far as the doctors can tell, that is, it's growing. My stomach is distended, and they moved me to a top secret military research facility where I'm considered \"patient 0\". \n\nI've been having mood changes, and not because I can't play COD with friends (the single player mode blows FYI). I am having strange cravings. Sourkraut and anchovies. Rotten garbage. Shit has gotten strange. The doctors keep coming in offering explanations, but I can tell they're as confused as me. I'm starting to think I'm never leaving this place. \n\nSo, I'm alive. It's been about a month, and I guess congratulations are in order? I gave \"birth\", if that's what you want to call it. See, they've collected every crap (BM is what they call it, a nice doctor term for shit) just in case my shitbaby decides to be born. Let's just say that claws and a ringed mouth of teeth don't make for the most comfortable \"BM.\" \n\nNumerous studies on my little guy have been completed, and the more I see it suspended in thick fluid with cabling attached to its every appendage, the angrier I get. I've started to have weird pains again, but they seem to be coming from Allen (I decided to name him). \n\nI've started hearing his voice. He's been giving me instructions, easy ones at first. Knock over that glass of water. Stub your toe on that table. At first, I could ignore his instructions, but doing so has now become painful. I must obey. \n\nI've been given complicated instructions today. I'm to access the sanitation systems of the plant, I'm to override them somehow. I think Allen is trying to spread. I can't resist. I must obey. \n", "“It’s mutated the genetic structure in most of the cells in your left eye,” the doctor told me, “The good news is it’s not cancer. The bad news is that...it’s not cancer.”\n\n“What is it then?” I asked, my mind unsure of what to think.\n\n“We simply don’t know,” he said taking off his glasses and looking tired, “We are running tests. I’ve sent samples to labs all across the country. It’s causing quite a stir. Come back on Wednesday for more blood tests.”\n\nWith that I shook his hand, cold flesh against mine in the chill of the artificially cold room. I received my appointment slip from the smiling nurse and stepped out into the heat of summer. I made my way to a bench and sat. My hand went up to my left eye and I pressed it. It didn’t hurt and my vision was perfect. If it hadn’t been for the fact that it had slowly changed from brown to blue I would never have seen a doctor. The sudden heterochromia was startling.\n\n“Shit,” I said to myself. I then had the bright idea to close my right eye completely. I fought nausea at the feeling of flipping and grabbed the bench. The world I was seeing was filled with color. Small winged creatures - fairies - floated lazily through the park. A unicorn ran unnoticed through the trees. A woman approached me through the crowd.\n \n“Ah, Mr. Lawrence,” she told me, “You have the sight. I guess I win the bet.”\n\nI opened both eyes and gasped. That world disappeared. I sighed in relief that the woman was gone. Maybe the not-cancer was affecting my brain. I stood to return to the doctors office then froze.\n\n“Just because you can’t see us,” the woman’s voice spoke into my ear, “It doesn’t mean we aren’t here.”" ]	4
	[WP] Over the course of the last month, you've seen figures in gray, cowled robes following you on a daily basis. Today, one approached you for the first time and offered you a cookie.	[ "My life has been very strange lately. At first I thought that the feeling of being watched or followed was just general paranoia, or my family history of schizophrenia finally rearing its ugly head, but then I started to see them. They were clad in gray, wearing hooded robes the likes of which have likely been out of style for centuries. As I began to notice them more, I took more drastic measures trying to avoid them, but they always seemed to be able to catch up to me, finding me in even the most obscure places.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy desperation to avoid them had gotten to the point where I've nearly killed myself and other people trying to escape their pervasive presence. I've driven well above the speed limits on crowded roads, tried to drive as far away as possible, and even took a flight to a another country. No matter how fast or far I've driven, or how far I've flown, there was always someone in a gray robe waiting for me. No matter how much I try to point them out to others, none of them believe me. My family and friends wanted me committed for my seeming obsession with these gray-clad stalkers.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nOne night, while I was sitting on the balcony of my apartment, trying to have a smoke and attempting to take a break from my running, one of them came up behind me, and took me by surprise. I fell from the balcony, having thrown myself over the railing by accident out of fear of seeing them, hitting the ground hard and breaking multiple bones. I saw a faint glimpse of the face of my attacker, as they looked down upon me with little to no emotion, while people rushed to call an ambulance and get me to the hospital. I once again tried to point them out to the people trying to help me and calm me down , but by the time my rescuers looked up at my balcony, the figure was gone, as if it were never there. They also shared my family and friends' sentiment that I was insane, and experiencing delusions.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI was taken to the local hospital in the back of an ambulance, being treated as if I was 'out of it' by the paramedics, and trying desperately to tell them of the gray-clad stalkers, but they didn't listen and kept trying to calm me down, at one point even resorting to drugging me. By the time I got treated and taken to my room, it was already very nearly the dead hours of the morning. After the medical staff left me alone to sleep, all I could do was lay there awake, listening to the sounds of my I.V. dripping, and the ECG machines in the adjoining rooms beeping. I knew they were coming for me, and it was only a matter of time before they found me again.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen my eyes were finally ready to close, heavy from all of those hours spent awake in fear and agony, I began to hear footsteps coming towards my bed. One of the 'people in gray' had finally found me once again, and this time I had no means of escape. All I could do was lay there in fear, waiting for the robed figure to introduce me to my maker. I watched as they reached into their pocket, ready to grab whatever deadly weapon my imagination thought up every agonizing millisecond, and to my surprise it was a cookie. Double chocolate chip, with hints of peanut butter.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAll I could do was laugh hysterically, munching on the sweet treat that one of my gray-clad stalkers had given me. After all of this paranoia and anguish, the 'people in gray' just wanted to be friends. I never saw them again after that night, though I can still feel their presence. At times I even find plate-fulls of cookies in the strangest of places as their way of telling me that they are still there." ]	1
	[WP] You can smell others' emotions. One day you see your crush, but you scent... nothing.	[ "I stared at her, my crush since freshmen year, dazed. No, I wasn't leering, I was simply stunned by her scent, or rather, her lack of one. I know this is all very confusing for you, so I'll just give you a quick run-down of everything. \nYou see, I was gifted with the ability to sense emotions by smell when I was but a wee lad, and ever since I figured out the what scents meant what, I've used it to my advantage; I used my nose to help figure out how to make people more happy, to sense whether or not I should press a point in debate, and most importantly - to get people to like me more. I know, it's kind of scummy, using my special advantage to manipulate people like that; but, in my defense, I also leave people happier than I found them, which I would think is a pretty good thing, right? So one day, I came up with the brilliant idea of trying this on this amazing girl that I've been eyeing (in a non-creepy way) for a while now - Shallan Daniwar. To be honest, I don't really know her since I've literally never stepped within 10 feet of her before (which is also the range of my special scent) for fear of utter humiliation; but, from what I've heard of her, she has a beautiful, vibrant personality and a good head on her shoulders. Naturally, I was, to say the least, intrigued. Let's get back to the whole thing about me staring at Shallan now, shall we?\nSo today during lunch period, I was on my way to the lunch line when I noticed Shallan, smiling as always, chatting with a friend of hers. Not long after, her friend received a text, probably from her boyfriend requesting a session of tonsil hockey, and quickly said her goodbyes before racing down the hall towards the bathrooms. It took a moment, but I quickly figured out that this was a one-in-a-million chance where Shallan was alone - operation Leeroy was a go. I inhaled deeply, mustering my courage and praying to every god I could think of, and I jogged up to her, opened my mouth, and froze. Something felt off, something was wrong, very, very wrong.\nI can't smell. \n\"Um, hi?\" she asked, confused by this unmoving, hyperventilating guy staring at her. \nWhy can't I smell anything? \n\"Do I know you?\" she repeated, seemingly concerned. \nI can't even smell a drop of concern from her. \n\"Do you need some help? I can take you to the school nurse if you want.\" \nI guess she can turn off my powers or something, eh? A power dampener of some sort? Maybe she even has powers of her own. \n\"Dude, stop staring at me and say something!\" she demanded, \"God damn it, Jeff, you're really starting to creep me out here.\"\n\"How did you know my name?\" I asked, \"I've never even spoken to you before.\"\n\"I know you're name in the same way you can quote on quote 'smell' emotions, you oxygen thief\" she replied while making giant air quotes, \"I'm telepathic too.\"\n\"Did you just call me... Telepathic? Just because I'm good at communicating my patheticness doesn't mean you gotta point it out.\"\nAnd there it was, I heard her laugh - a music poring into my soul. \n\"Don't be ridiculous, Jeff,\" she said, still chuckling, You're a telepath, Jeffrey. \n\"Whao, did you just borrow a Harry Potter line to tell me I'm a telepath in my mind? \" I said.\n\"Yep.\"\n\"So you can talk to people without talking to people?\"\n\"Only to telepaths, but yes.\"\n\"Wow.\"\n\"Mhmm.\"\n\"So can I also learn the art of being anti-social but still communicating?\"\n\"Yeah,\" she said, \"cool? Right?\"\n\"Ya know, I would have thought I'd be a lot more scared or something if someone told me I had a magical power.\"\n\"Well you've always known you were special thanks to your little 'scent' hints,\" Shallan replied, \"and I've been surpressing your anxiety too, which is something you can eventually learn too.\"\n\"Oh.\" \n\"Yep.\"\n\"So... is it possible learn this power?\"\n\"Not from a Jedi.\"\nWow, a prequel meme, can she be any more perfect? I thought to myself.\n\"I heard that,\" she said, flashing a tantalizing smile at me.\n\"Oh yeah, sorry,\" I stammered, blushing with embarrassment, \"I'm just a bit overwhelmed, that's all.\"\n\"It's all good,\" she said, \"So, you want to learn, right?\"\n\"Of course!\" \n\"Great! I'll introduce you to the order for proper training immediately - on one condition.\"\n\"I'll do anything,\" I said, swallowing in anticipation of the herculean task she was about to toss me.\n\"You'll have to take me on a date.\"\n\"... What?\" I replied, completely befuddled.\n\"Yeah, you gotta show me a good time to make up for the whole lunch period you just wasted.\"\n\"Oh,\" I said, noting the time. Five minutes until lunch ends. \n\"I'm really sorry about that, I didn't mean to -\"\n\"Oh whatever, just take my number and go to your next class,\" she said, setting a piece of paper in my hair with a smile that belied her almost belligerent tone. \n\"Um, okay,\" I stammered, \"see you later, then.\"\n\"You'd better see me later,\" was her only reply as she turned her back on me and made her way towards her next class.\nYou're pretty cute, too. a voice in my head said. \nI could somehow tell it was hers despite it having all the inflections of a rock, and I could tell that it was embarrassed as well, though probably less than I was.\nWell, that went well, I thought to myself, I've finally met a girl who wants to go out with me for the first time in 16 years! Mission accomplished! We're coming home boys! Woo hoo!... I've never actually gotten this far before though... So... What next?\nEdit: Dang it, the formats all off since I'm on mobile right now. " ]	1
	[WP] In a dream you are given the choice to gain omnipotence at the cost of 4 billion random people dying, who you cannot resurrect. You accept the offer. When you wake up, the decision was real and every single human being left alive knows it was you.	[ "Last night I dreamt that there was a man asking me a simple question. He was tall, imposing. He looked impossibly old, androgynous save for the suit he wore that was a colour I cannot describe. He crooked a long finger at me, about to say something, then stopped. I could not tell where this dream took place, everything but the man and I was shifting perpetually. Finally, the man spoke.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Omnipotence. This is what I offer. To have all the world's power. In exchange, you will give me the souls of 4 billion. You will have power over everything except for the circumstances of these people's deaths, and therefore cannot save them. Make a choice, for better or for worse.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI stared at the man for a while. I had never had a dream remotely like this in the entirety of my 27 years on this earth. I had had dreams where someone I knew was murdering me, where I could fly, where I was running somewhere for no reason. Yet this dream had come to me out of a place that did not seem real. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI decided to answer the mans question. I knew this was a dream, that nothing would be real and everything would be forgotten the moment I woke. So I replied.\n\n\"I accept your offer.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAt that point the man made an expression that was so alien I had no time to process it, only to gaze upon the twisted smile-like features of the man who now waved his hand once. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI jolted up in bed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI knew this was some silly nightmare. That I would tell my friends at work about it, and they would probably find it weird but funny that I would sacrifice 4 billion strangers for all the worlds knowledge. Then I went to the kitchen. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy Father lay dead on the floor. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI gasped, then started crying. There were no wounds, no marks. Nothing would have signaled he was dead excepting the fact his eyes were wide open and unblinking. He lay next to a shattered mug of coffee. I wiped my tears and stood there for eternity. \n\nThen my brain exploded in a million colours.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen I got up from the cold kitchen floor, I knew I had an exquisite amount of power. More than any mortal had ever had.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI gave my father a proper burial with a flick of my finger. I had things to do now that were more interesting than dreary funerals. Than my mother, seemingly having just woken up, came down the stairs. \n\nShe fixed me with an accusatory glance that pierced through my soul in an infinite number of ways. Finally, she calmly asked me why I did it. \n\nI understood suddenly. Why all this had happened, why I could level cities with my hands now. That demon in my dream had made the choice real, in some way. It seemed that the 3 billion survivors knew of my gift, my sacrifice.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI tried to explain this revelation coherently to my mother, but she did not want to see reason. She cut me off and fixed me with another steely stare before simply saying \"Get out.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nWithout another word between us, I left my birthplace forever. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy soul grieved for my past life, but I was destined for things my mother would not comprehend due to her limited perspective. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI then decided to reform the world in my own image. It would be a world that I would oversee, that I could control. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI needed time. I did not know all, yet I could know enough to mold the earth into a utopia for humanity. I then set up a barricade of the strongest alloy that man had been able to conceive. Since I did not know of a better one, it would have to suffice. I estimated the barrier would hold for the time I required, then immediately summoned the library of congress inside the barrier. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nOnce I had read everything there was to read in that now trivial collection of arcane knowledge, I put the library of congress in its rightful place. I then summoned the library of Alexandria, and sent it back in due time. \n\nWith the knowledge I had gained from those dusty texts, I set about making a new world.\n\nIt was perfect in every way, with unlimited food and boundless flora and fauna. So many of earth's species were rudimentary, so I created some of my own. I abolished the Hayflick limit, making every human immortal. I then set a temple to knowledge in every place where humanity was that included every page of every book that had ever existed. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nFeeling satisfied at last with my boundless creation, I rested.", "If the Creator of the Universe asked you to do something would you do it?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI did.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAfter falling asleep on my bed, like any other warm summer night after work. I had a dream. I had dreamed that I sat on a white marble platform with a table and two chairs. The sky was bright and warm. I sat in one of the chairs, across the table was a white haired figure with fatherly wrinkles and stern eyebrows. His eyes had a faint gold tint. The man studied me and I him.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt didn't take me long to figure out I was looking at God, or at least my Christian interpretation of him. He looked very tired, almost he was about to sleep. \"I have something to ask of you.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What would you have me do?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I am very tired, I would like to sleep. The Universe cannot go without a God. I need someone to take my place while I slumber, to keep Hell in check and keep the Gates of Heaven open.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Why me? I have done nothing remarkable with my life, I only teach 2nd grade children. I have no experience in ruling all of creation.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Ruling the Universe is not so different than managing a classroom full of angry little shits.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI was kind of shocked at his use of profanity, but I was more concerned with the fact that I was about to become God 2.0. However something gave me pause... His tone indicated there was more than what he was telling me... There was a price.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"There is a price with this.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe said nothing but his eyes told me that I was right... He had such kind fatherly eyes, the kind of eyes that you would do anything for because you loved the person the eyes were set within.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"The price is that everyone you have ever known or interacted with will die. Along with that to imbue someone such as yourself with unlimited power will require about half of all the human souls on Eden. It will come to the attention of the remaining people that there is a new ruler in the Universe. They may not know how, but they will know it was you who took upon the greatest burden single entity has taken upon themselves.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis was about the point in which I thought I would drop dead. My mind was flying quicker than I thought possible. Everyone who I loved, who I talked to and remembered the names of. My wife... Julia... She was a devout Christian but I don't think this is what she had in mind when it came to going to Heaven.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n'What happens if I don't take this?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"The Gates of the Abyss will burst open and the hordes of Hell shall rush forth and overwhelm both Eden and Heaven.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"So either I kill everyone that I have ever known or watch the world drown in blood, that's a fair choice if I ever saw one.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Its a choice you have to make.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I'll do it.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe looked at me with the saddest eyes like he just consigned me to die. Which I guess is what he just did for 4 billion people.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThen it all went white.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI awoke to screams on the wind. I sat upon a throne of pure marble in a room with an open roof. With the stars reflecting back. At the end of the throne room through the Gates of Heaven. Eden burned.", "click \n\nclick\n\nclick \n\nOnce again my monitor slid to another question. The thin line carried another question as it darted into the middle of the screen. Printed in Italicized Times New Roman the question drifted across the monitor bouncing when ever it touched border.\n\nWould you click the button to gain omnipotence but you kill over half the world's population.\n\nI felt my chair fall back into a 15 degree angle as I placed my weight upon it. The loose black plastic squeaking under the weight of the choice I was about to make. \n\n\"Man That's A Hard One\"\n\nI ran it through my head the advantages and disadvantages. On one had the wording had implied I would not be able to resurrect the dead. And the selection would be random possibly ending me with the rather unlucky half.\n\nBut on the other side of the coin\n\nGod like powers and limitless betterment for mankind as a whole. But best of all the wording allowed some wiggle room around no resurrection policy via gifting some of my powers away to some lucky few.\n\nBut damit it was one in the morning and I would be dammed if I thought about this question any longer. I have a test in history to tomarrow that I skipped out studying on to answer demented questions online.\n\n\"Screw It\"\n==================================\nclick \n==================================\nI pulled back from my desk and ramed my finger into the power icon on the PC. And rattled off what my first few actions would be in my mind as I flopped face first into bliss. I dreamed about those actions and questions that night. I started out my quest of omnipotence by giving any survivors a random power and leaving a message.\n\n\"On the words of hanz yor of cascaid idaho something something resurrect the dead you fucking mongs I did this for omnipotence\". And with that I drifted off into the fuzzy embrace of nothing. \n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nThen the world tore it's self apart like a slasher villian finally catching up to his first victim. Tearing and wrenching through gore covered fangs of terror and shadows. Only this time it was real and it was happening to people who didn't deserve it. And every single broken bone and life cut short was all my doing in this story I was the villain.\n\nI was the dark menacing wraith at the end of the field of skulls and blood about to disembowel the princesses father. In front of her and all of the conscripted heroes and generals that came to save the king. Then going on a long monologue about \"The Betterment Of Our Peoples\" and the justified sacrafices of the many to save the few.\n\nWhen I left my slumber it was not to the monastic ringing of my alarm. Instead it was a sound that made me want to gut myself like a steel head caught swimming up stream. The sorrowful voice of my family that were left whispering one solom word.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n\"why\"\n\n\n==================================\n(Wow lads that got dark real quick I didn't want to leave it as a downer but I ran out of time and I saw a decent end point.)\n\nNote to future self:for self improvement\n\n(dont be Micky mouse slaughter house levels of dark)\n\n(Try to slow down and get more detail out)\n\n(Punch Hanz Yur in the throat)\n", "I usually can’t remember my dreams. Every so often I’ll snag a moment, an image, a word from my imagination. The most vivid memories of dreaming I have are simulated deaths my brain decided to put me through\n\nI should have realized it was real because of that\n\nI should have realized.\n\nIt was to vivid\n\nI came to in a large stone chamber. It was lit with blue torches in the walls and the high gothic ceilings stretched above me. At the end of the chamber was a figure, in a large stone throne set with gleaming blue gemstones.I recognized him then. I don’t now. Even with his “gift.” He smiled at me and welcomed me, then introduced himself. I can’t remember who he said he was. I learned in the dream. I acted like I did at least. But it’s blocked now.\n\nHe poured us wine and materialized a table to sit at before saying. “I’ve been watching you a while, Professor Carson, am I have an offer for you.” \n\n“It a pleasure to meet you ——, but I would like to go now, may I?\n\n“Of course, if you wish. You may awake at any moment back in your bed.But then I would have to take my offer elsewhere, and I think you would like to hear me out before refusing.”\n\nSomething about the way he said it, the way he was perfectly at ease, convinced me to stay. Besides, he just practically stated i was in a dream. Just a dream. Maybe a weird one, maybe a lucid one now, but just a dream. It was a curious situation to play out... “Alright, what did you bring me all this way to offer me.”\n\n“I have recently acquired something, an artifact of sorts. And I would like to move it to your world. I need someone to bear it. This is no small task of course as it demands a price for changing worlds, and a curious thing about it is everyone learns who moved it, which can be...challenging. But in exchange for this I have an immense gift for you. Something no one else in your world have even come close to. I know you seek knowledge, how would you like all of the knowledge of your realm.”\n\nI spit out my wine at this “Omnipotence?!” Strange dream indeed\n\n“That is my offer professor Carson. In exchange for your services of course.”\n\nI paused for a minute, just thinking. He watched me the entire sixty or so seconds.\n\n“You mentioned a price?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Tell me about that”\n\nHe sighed and paused a moment before saying “upon entry, in order to secure its position, it has to reap four billion humanoid souls. It takes them randomly, the only safe being its bearer, which would be you. And as I said, everyone would know who transported it.”\n\nFour billion. Half of my world. I sunk in my chair, the weight of this decision now upon me.\n\nThen I remembered it was a dream.\n\nOnly a dream. \n\nSeveral minutes passed with —— just staring at me. Before I piped up. “What would I have to do?”\n\n“Nothing. Me and my people will arrange everything, you will simply have to wait”\n\nAnother several minutes.\n\n“What happens to the reaped souls?”\n\n“Even I do not know.”\n\nAnother several minutes \n\nOnly a dream\n \nI guess that was the rationale I made my decision under. I keep asking why I thought that \n\n“You know what? I’ll take you up in that.”\n\nA smile spread across his face. “Wonderful professor Carson!” He produced a large scroll and a black quill. “Sign here to confirm and you will have all the knowledge of your world at your fingertips.”\n\nUpon the scroll were paragraphs and paragraphs of of tiny text. I tried to read some. I was in a language I didn’t understand.\n\nI signed\n\n“Well that’s that. Excellent decision Professor Carson! I’ll see you on the other side. Soon.” And he snapped. And I woke up. Just a dream.\n\nI told my roommate about it over tea, he said it was weird, and I went about my day. About an hour later. It happened. There was a boom. It was deafening, and suddenly, the worst headache I ever had, and then I knew. I knew everything. All the science, literature, and everything else. And I knew my mistake. They would connect the dots. I had 74 seconds before the first attempt on my life. And 10 seconds in between attacks for the next 15 days. Then they would become less consistent. I saw about half my students turn to dust as a small black object materialized in my hand. And I ran. I knew my mistake, and everything it had done. Only a dream. Not so much.\n\n", "Gary’s footsteps pounded across the sidewalk, surefooted. Behind him, a small legion of very angry men gave chase, though they were less confident on the surface covered with both snow and black ice. They were stronger and more agile men, but they didn’t have Gary’s new, blood-drenched gift.\n\nGary’s omnipotence meant there was never a question every again- only options. Every footstep calculated perfectly to propel him the farthest forward, while providing a back spray of snow to continually blind and delay his would-be attackers. He knew where the traffic would congeal a block away, and how he could lose them in a probable accident that would soon form there. As he rounded a corner, on cue two sedans met in an angry crunch. Gary slid behind the left one before a narrow gap behind it closed as a minivan joined the collision. His pursuers shouts grew fainter as he darted down the alleyway.\n\nHe paused to consider his options. Half of humanity had died overnight, unintentionally of course. He had assumed his dream had been just that, not a Faustian bargain over humanity. But here it was- Gary knew all, and all knew Gary. The survivors of Mankind knew what he had done, and some of them were not happy about it.\n\nSome would rally to him. Cults would gravitate to him as the one true savior of mankind. Mainstream religions would be more split, with some viewing him as the Second Coming or the Rapture. He knew he could convince many of them he was God if he wanted, but Gary hadn’t decided if he wanted to openly challenge Divine Beings yet. He wasn’t sure how rivaling omnipotence would play out. That seemed to be the one limitation to his unlimited gifts- knowledge or sway over other Gods.\n\nGary made his way through the alleys, his mind made up. Humanity needed a new leader, and he was the logical choice. Many of the world leaders were dead, and the surviving ones were panicking to put out the metaphorical and literal fires his actions had created. They needed an all-powerful, all-knowing hand to guide them. Gary’s hand.\n\nGary opted not fly to the White House. He could’ve, but he didn’t want to scare humanity any more than they already were. He opted to teleport instead, drawing on his limitless well of power. He appeared in the Oval Office. A pile of dust sat in the chair behind the Resolute Desk. Several aides standing nearby panicked, and opened fire. Gary stopped the bullets, and they ceased to exist.\n\nThe only limitations were his imagination, he realized. He could make all of humanity love him, and cease their attacks. He could instantly solve every problem, eliminate poverty and hunger. Crime would end. There would be perfection. And yet….\n\nAnd yet it wouldn’t mean anything. If he enslaved the universe, mankind would just be a plaything. Solving every problem would only make them resurface a few decades from now. No, he needed a gentler approach. He focused, and began sending a message to every mind on the planet.\n\n“You all know me. I am Gary, and I have destroyed half of Mankind. I’m not here to rule or destroy, only to guide. I didn’t intend for any of this to happen, but it was a necessary sacrifice to gain the power to save you all. I will help you all achieve balance. We will know peace.” He considered forcing them to believe his words, but decided against it.\n\nThey would learn, in time. They would learn to understand the outermost pieces of Gary’s designs. And they would come to love the utopia Gary would guide them to." ]	5
	[WP] Everytime you go to sleep you wake up in a new world, you're trying desperately to stay awake.	[ "Its been 42 days awake. Your mind smeared with the glitter of lights booming from the echoes of the room. The dirty music pounds your ears into your soul. You stammer around to find bearing about the meaning of it all. Should you stay? Stay here in this place? \n\nFrom beneath the prancing of the hollow drums of feat skipping upon the tiled floor a shriek ignites a fire in you. Like hounds upon the scent of foxs blood a wave of daring lads set towards the scene. You dodge fourth following. Upon the ground at the scene a mass of people staring down a man lay shaking in compulsions. A women terrified in panic letting her hysteria bleed unto the crowd. \n\nYou wipe the sweet from you brows. Pushing the wettness up into the greasy mess of you hair. Anger swells your blood. This was no tragedy worth a weep. But the exhaustion. It hits you like a wave. You think to yourself \"oh god let me fall asleep\". In the midst of the chaos. As the music plays. The clubs roars. You find a seat and sit down. You head falls to your arms cradling your blooming head. You close you eyes.\n\nMemories rush through your mind. The places you've been. The things you've seen. They all play in reverse. Only yesterday you had learned to love. Where a day was a year. Where you had meet your love. She was here when you awoke you could have sworn you saw her. Didn't she say she would follow you from world to world. \n\nDid you know her when it first happened. It's been many worlds and many lifetimes. You can barely remember how it happened. It was when you were 20. It must have been 40 years. Yet you haven't aged at all. Yes you remember now. You had made a deal. Once it was over. You would return. But what was it you came here to do.\n\nThe void approached with sudden relief to take your mind away. To spell you into a dream. Into another world you would go. Certainly as it always occurs. Like the sun rises anew each day so to do you arise each day into a new world different from the last. \n\nBut suddenly a sound. One from behind. A hand you see it reaching. A voice, a womens voice calls you back. You spring up dazed and betrayed. \n\nThe club. Damn your still in the club. So close to sleep. You turn around. It is her. She is standing there greeting you with a warm smile. Tears swelling in her eyes. \n\n\"I found you\" She pulls at you to turn to her embrace. \n\nDamn the women you love. The women you hate. You remember the bet. You can't lose.\n\n\"Yes darling. You have\" \n\n.... to be continued.", "Happened again, I somehow fell asleep and woke up in this weird bed. It wasn’t mine, it can’t be mine, I would never own a hammock let alone sleep on it.\n\nYesterday was perfect. I had an amazing girlfriend and we had this huge house with trees on it’s yard. Somehow trees grew shoes on them but it was an adequately liveable universe that I woke up to. Not like that literal hellhole from a week ago.\n\nIt started when I was 13. The life I live back then feels like a thousand lifetimes ago, because in a way it actually is. I was the youngest in a family of corn farmers in Iowa. I had 3 siblings that were very hard to get along with, a loving mother, a hard working father, a golden retriever named flash and some mediocre grades at my school. So you know, nothing out of the ordinary, I haven’t made a deal with the devil, fell into a radioactive dump, migrated from another planet or anything like that. As you can tell I loved comic books, I would do almost anything to get my hands on a copy of spider-man or even the green lantern. But this is my life now, somehow, somewhere in my life I upset some god and this is my punishment. Every time I fell a sleep, I wake up in another universe with the batshit crazy rules.\n\nThe first time when this happened I thought I was still asleep and tried to go back to it, then it changed again. I must have changed 6 different universes that night. Can you imagine waking up and going back to sleep and having completely different life-like dreams every time you do. That would make you question your drugs and your life choices. For my case, those dreams are the real thing, and they change every freaking time.\n\nOver time, I developed a series of tests for my new worlds. They usually have breathable atmospheres and I can eat the food in the majority of them. The ones that I can’t breathe, I end up fainting and waking up in another one. When the food is no good or no drinkable water is present I end up spending some time in and going to sleep hungry and thirsty.\n\nWhen I wake up I take short breaths from my mouth and try to taste the air. If it tastes like rotten eggs, onions, dead animals etc. it is a good sign that the day is going to be very hard. Then I find something firm and just drop it from waist high to test the gravity and the general physics of the environment. I have been to many universes where I could jump many feet off the air and many that crushed my every cell under its gravity. Then I try to take a few steps and check to see if everything is going well. Then usually hunger takes over my body and the quest to find something edible begins.\n\nToday I am on a hammock. I have never seen a hammock beside on earth. And the air tastes like, salt-water and some flowery scent. This must be a decent place near seas. There is only one sun with yellow and orange colour.\n\nNo, it can’t be earth. This happened before, I got excited thinking that I am back on earth and when I discovered the slimy residents and the three moons it only ended in heartbreak. This is one of those fake earths. If I don’t let myself hope, my heart wouldn’t break.\n\nAs I wake up on an hammock, I couldn’t find anything to drop down. My body would have to endure the gravity test as I get myself off this contraption.\n\nJust as I predicted, I fell. But the fall did give me a sense of warm feeling, I can’t quite put it into words, I didn’t break anything, I wasn’t bleeding from my nose. I picked a seed from the tree and let it drop to the dirt just to keep the ritual going. It fell somewhat gracefully, a bit slower then the previous universe. I studied the plants growing on the dirt, they were some sort of grass, and as I directed my attention to the plants, the brownish coloured four legged insects greeted me in silence.\n\nI was in a middle of a forest. Well it felt like the middle anyway, for I walked for three hours to find any dweller. I picked some berries and nuts on the way, I ate only the things that I saw other animals and insect consume, it wasn’t very pleasant but it was somewhat safe. I can’t tell how many times I consumed something poisonous and admitted to a hospital/ tribe herbalist/ wizard/ scientist and many other professions that I can’t figure out that studied my body. I usually draw the thing that I ate and they figured out what to do. When I am among carbon based life forms it usually worked, the same could not be said for the energy based life forms though.\n\nI arrived on a clearing, and could saw a figure trying to do something with his vehicle-looking object. The first encounter is always interesting, they usually run away, but if not, it leads to some pretty interesting stuff with me trying to body language away some basic stuff.\n\nI got closer, and the being looked more humanoid with every step I took in the direction. I tried to calm myself down, I wasn’t going to let myself get excited but this universe really did looked like mine. The figure was almost human and the thing he worked on seemed like a pickup truck, just like we had when I was a kid. I decided to take a chance.\n\n“Hello sir!” I let out, failing to conceal my excitement.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPART 2 IN REPLY (Too long error, sorry)", "I hate this. \n\nI hate every single second of this, though I can’t help but snicker at the reality. The reality that I’ve never asked for, the reality that ‘he’ cursed me with, the real-\n\nI opened my eyes, even jumped. How can I not? I don’t want to lose everything that I’ve worked on. Everything that i slaved for. Thinking about how I could lose everything right now, just because I’m tired... just makes me want to destroy everything!\n\nI look at the ceiling of my laboratory, laughing. Pathetic, I’m the epitome of pathetic.\n\nAll these years, I wonder, does he still remember my face? The face of the boy that he cursed? The face of the boy that he broke? I can’t help but laugh maniacally at the thought. \n\nWhy? Why me? Out of all the children there, why was it me? Why was it my life the he destroyed!? Why couldn’t it be the others!? \n\n“Why!?” I stood up, and pushed everything of the table in my anger-driven bid to keep myself awake. I couldn’t even stand for a few seconds before collapsing onto the floor. Rather than standing up, I hold my fists to my face, trying to keep it all in. The anger, the frustration, the sadness, the grief. But I couldn’t. These emotions, these turmoils, it’s all too much. It’s all too much.\n\n“Why?” I couldn’t help but sobbed. “Why me?” Tears fell from my eyes, but it wouldn’t stop me from sleeping. It never does. Just like being angry, it’ll only stall the inevitable. \n\nI should just move on. Just go with flow, just throw away my will. Just forg-\n\n“Professor! Wake up!” My eyes opened at the voice of my assistant. I was shocked to see her hugging me tightly, after all I put her through. She, she really does care about me, huh?\n\n“No, get off me!” I weakly shouted, trying to sound as authoritative as I can. I weakly pushed her, but instead of making her leave, she just tightened her grip and looked up at me.\n\n“No, I- I- we can get through this! I promise!” She begged me. So she actually believe my story? The story that everybody described as the product of a madman?\n\n“So you believe me.” I laughed weakly. How can I not? Not even my family, when I managed to bump into them, believed me. “So what?”\n\n“Wha-? What?” She replied, her face clearly showing her confusion.\n\n“So what does it mean to you? What difference does it make to you that we ‘get through’ this, hah!? What!?” I ranted all i can about my grievance, about how I’ve suffered, about how she has suffered under me, about how she’s better off with a man who can be with her, who can love her. “So what?”\n\nEverything was silent. So, no answer, eh? I guess it really does not make a difference, i thought, before she rest her head on me.\n\n“The difference is, we would be happy,” she said softly. What?\n\n“Are you crazy? How can a man like me make you happy?” I ask her softly, not having the heart to be rough to her anymore.\n\n“You’ve always cared for me, in your own way. You protected me, stood up for me. You were, and are, my hero. And no matter what you or they say, you’ll always be the one in my heart.” She looked at me, eye to eye, and the only thing i could see in her eyes were love, honesty, and fear. Fear that I’ll be, gone.\n\n“No, Sarah, you can’t possibly be serious,” I tried to deny, despite it being the obvious truth. “And even if you are, you’ll never be able stop me from falling asleep. The drugs, they can only last for a month or two before it’ll start endangering me. You’ll never stop me from disappearing.” I told her the painful trut-\n\n“Zack!l” I opened my eyes again. “I’m not able to stop you from leaving, but you’re not able to stop me from following.” \n\n“And how do you propose that?” I asked her dismissively. Despite that, my heart couldn’t help but flutter with hope. Hope that I’ll never be alone again, hope that I’ll always be with her. Then, I notice my eyelids drooping. I tried to keep them open, but I’m just too tired.\n\n“I’ll find a way, I’ll reach you no matter where you are! So please, wait for me” \n\nThat was the final words that I heard before falling asleep. \n\n\n\n\n", "I can no longer tell if my shaking is from the 15 cups of coffee or my growing anxiety. \n\nLet me start with a bit of backstory. My name is Jacob and for years people thought me to be a sleepwalker, but my condition is far... stranger. You see whenever I go to sleep, I wake up somewhere else immediately. It seems to be like a dream, in that when I wake up I feel rested, but while in the dream, its almost like real life. Hyper vivid and sensationally robust, dreaming is almost a reality swap for me. The most interesting part was that there seemed to be a 1:1 time ratio, time moved evenly from the dream world to the real world. I would live 8-10 hours in this other place, then get tired, fall asleep and wake up in the \"real\" world again. This however, is where the sleepwalking comes in. I'm never in my bed when I wake up. I'm always in a park or a field, occasionally someones backyard but always a grassy open space. Like I said, everyone wrote it off as sleepwalking, but that was quickly disproven when I managed to \"sleepwalk\" out of a completely locked room. My mother had barricaded my doors and windows shut one night in an attempt to keep me from getting out of the house (not malicious mind you, just concerned and confused) and I somehow managed to get out of the house and into a nearby field without even moving any of the locks or bolts on any of the barricades. This was when we sought help from professionals, starting with doctors and eventually moving up to tests with high level quantum physicists. Apparently my \"sleepwalking\" was more like a dimensional teleport, sending me to another reality within our mulitverse, but only until I \"woke up\" again. \n\nOk then, exposition aside, let me share how I got here, before I either fall asleep or lose control of my thumbs since I'm shaking so much. One of the testing days I remember half the facility being closed for the test of a new antimatter engine, one that many scientists speculated would finally make space travel possible. The energy required to start it was so great they had even diverted the electricity from a nearby power plant to the facility, and had allowed the neighboring city who suffered the blackout to observe the start up. I made my way through the crowd of mildly annoyed people and into the building. Today was a test involving an administered sedative, to see how much was needed to make me \"teleport\". However, about halfway to the room, sirens began to sound, and the ground started rumbling. From one of the big bay windows in the lobby a blinding flash of light exploded into the room, and a high pitched whirring sound sung through the air. I quickly gathered myself and turned the corner back into the lobby. The antimatter engine was the source of the minature solar flare, and was shaking violently in its massive steel cradle. The ground underneath it buckled and swayed with the motion of the collosal machine, and small rocks began to levitate as the whirring grew louder and louder. You couldnt even hear the loudspeaker anymore. Then the whole assembly lurched like a drunk who just discovered his limit, hurling a small mountian into the air behind it. The outer face of the engine caved into itself and was swallowed by the supermassive pistons that made up the sides of it, quickly collapsing into a shifting maw of molten metal and orange sparks. I couldnt hear anything over that deafening whir now, and as I watched with horror, the sky behind the coagulated mass began to swell inward, drawing attention to the miniature speck of what I can only describe as the light of a star, gleaming in the now compacting air. \n\nThe last words I thought to myself were \"This is it. This is the end.\" \n\nAnd then the metal rod bashed me in the back of the head. \n\nI came to instantly, in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Everything seemed normal, no whirring noise, no collapsing skyline, no crushing sense of inevitable destruction. \n\nThen that fourth one came back when I realized where I was. Somewhere else. That thing that hit me (I'm guessing it was a rod, I dont know for sure) had knocked me out. I fucking fell asleep as the world was ending. Or at least that section of the continent. Antimatters some pretty crazy shit, extremely reactive if it comes into contact with matter (you learn a lot being tested on in a quantum testing lab all the time). Even tiny amounts can have catastrophic, apocalyptic consequences for misuse. \n\nNow I don't know what to do. If I fall asleep where will I wake up? Another grassy park? Maybe in another universe? What if it takes me back to mine? Will there be anything left? What if I just pop into existence in the vaccume of space? I needed time, something I didnt have much of, I was already starting to feel fatigue. See, when I wake up in the dreamworld, I start out fully energized, and it slowly drains until I'm too tired and fall asleep. So I needed a way to stay up. On that note the barista has been giving me scared looks for the past day. Yes, thats correct, DAY. I HAVE BEEN HERE FOR 3 DAYS WITH NOTHING BUT COFFEE TO KEEP ME GOING. I CAN FEEL MY FINGERNAILS GROWING, MY TEETH VIBRATE, AND THE LAST FAMILIAR THING I REMEMBER IS MY REALITY CURLING INTO A DARK OBLIVIOM BEHIND A CONGEALED SPHERE OF SUPERNUCLEAR DEATH. My composure is avtually knd of impressive if im beenn honest. But I don't know hiw mich longer i cn stay awaake. This whole blurb took a lot out of mr, everythunfs gertinh fuzzy. I just had to grt thiis out. If you red this, plesse dint let my storu dissapear. \n\nFor the srcind time...\nThis is it\nThe end \n\nIfg somerrone fibds me, pleSe help. \n\n-The Sleepwalker \n\n:::::Please lemme know what you think. I apologize for small errors but i did this at 3 am on my phone. Any feedback would be super appreciated! Hope you enjoyed!:::::::\n", "The longest any person on any of the hundreds of worlds I’ve been on as been able to stay awake is about 11 days. The longest I’ve ever managed to stay awake is five, and that’s as I’m writing this. \n\nIt’s said that when a body goes without sleep it starts to hallucinate and the heart quickens and breaths become sharper and air cooler and your body hotter and the body begs for sleep. I don’t know what death feels like, but I can assume that this is how some would picture it. I would say they’re wrong. \n\nI think it’s because of this curse. For some reason the damned gods decided I was the one who should be burdened to wake on another planet. I’ve seen thousands, maybe millions of planets. I lost count a while ago. I used to write about each one, but now I rarely write. I usually will spend a day on a planet, travel it and see what I can, then drift off to nothingness and find a new place when I wake. I stopped trying to break this curse a while ago. Well, until now. \n\nI know it’s pointless to fight. Yet I do. \n\nI would describe death as a numbness. Never once have been cursed with hallucinations and such, but when I got this long without sleep a numbness starts in my chest, where my heart should be, and slowly spreads. It’s been spreading for three days. I can feel it claw up my throat and my left hand has been tingling since this morning. Walking is becoming harder. It’s becoming harder to use my senses as well. Everything is going numb, and eventually I will be forced into sleep. \n\n I’ve never been on a place like earth. They aren’t the most advanced planet and from the small time I’ve been here I believe they will tear themselves apart before any other life form does, if they don’t tear their planet apart before. I’ve seen other planets come to the same fate as earth. Sadly I couldn’t pass with these planets, for this curse also made me immortal. \n\nStill, the people of earth seem to have something I haven’t seen in a while. No matter the odds they fight, like how i fight to stay awake. They have hope. You have hope, and that is what gave me hope that I could stay awake, that I could stay with you. \n\nI know you’ll probably be mad that I told you this in a letter. You might not even believe it, which would probably be best for both of us. I sometimes don’t believe it, yet the black scars on my body show that it’s real. \n\nI don’t know why the gods cursed me. They know I curse them but they never respond, just as earths gods have never responded. Yet your people still have faith. So much so that hey fight over which faith is the right one. The most common war among the infinite space is religion, and while i curse the gods not even I can say if they are real or not. \n\nI have no place to call home. It’s best that way, because I’ve found most to not accept me. I’d say it’s the black scars that look like fire that cover my arms, chest, and back, but it’s also because I am unknown to them. Unknown, like on earth, is a threat among the universe. And when you can’t kill the unknown, what do you do?\n\nThese are not questions you should worry about. You always ask what’s going on inside my head and why I’m quite, and it’s because of these thoughts. I figured I may as well give you an answer before I disappear. \n\nCarla, I have only know you for five days. In those five days you have me smile more than I have my entire life. I have never had a home, and I have never known love. But if I had to define the words, I’d use the time I spent with you to do so. I know for your people this seems sudden, to profess a word like love so soon. But it doesn’t matter, because I will be gone before you reject me. Some twisted part of me would rather have your rejection than be forced away. But this is uncontrollable, and for that I am sorry. \n\nI have never yet been to a planet twice, and in the impossible chance that I’ll be here again there is no telling how much time has passed. If for some reason you have hope that I’ll return, I beg of you to burn it, and move forward. \n\nI will miss this planet and it’s people. Even if I return to my depressing ways, I’ll be able to smile when I think of earth, and when i think of you.\n\nI’m crying. I can’t remember the last time I’ve cried. Thank you, Carla. \n\nThank you for everything. ", "Head nodding, eyes drooping, body heavy.\n\nI've forgotten what it's like to be a kid. Or at least, what it should be like.\n\nEvery trick in the book, I've already tried it. Screaming, yelling, stamping my feet, crying, playing, mocking. Nothing works.\n\nNo one can understand me.\n\nI've been a million different people, though always older than this. Every time I get thrust into some life I haven't built, into relationships I don't understand and working a job I've never seen before.\n\nNever been a kid, though. Never had a mom or a dad. Always been the adult, whether it's waking up in a gutter in the city of God, or rolling over in satin sheets in the kind of giant house many dream of, but never live in.\n\nYou're supposed to miss these kinds of things, but I've got what you would call a melancholy. I've never had it, so I don't know what I've lost. Only the impression of what should have been.\n\nBeing a kid is weird. I'm shorter than everyone, and can't even express myself in any kind of way. Though I've been doing this for what seems like countless days, when I try to speak it's all garbles and cooing. If my body can't make words, then I guess I can't force it to.\n\nPart of the cover, maybe?\n\nIt's been pretty nice, actually. Not having to adapt to some family dynamic complicated by a thousand petty grievances I've never seen before.\n\nJust a young man, with a full beard and stubby nose, short hair and hairy arms. A young woman, with short, cropped hair and wiry thin arms. \n\nIt must be a weekend, because they've been around all day. Morning came, and I awoke, expecting to have to swing my legs out of bed and fulfill responsibilities I never signed up for.\n\nInstead I was in a crib, and the woman came into my room, singing a song about getting dressed. \n\nIt was lovely, except I'd apparently shat myself overnight, and was in need of a diaper change. No rash, which was nice. Kind of weird, since I've changed my fair share of diapers, but every time I looked down in that crib I couldn't help but envy the lump of meat swaddled in blankets in love.\n\nHere, it felt nice, being picked up and cared for. \n\nTo be told you were loved, even though they knew you couldn't understand.\n\nTo remind you that you weren't alone, that they'd always be there for you.\n\nSnapshot effect, maybe. Could be in ten years they're divorced and trying to bribe the leftover children with gifts and promises of being the 'cool' parent.\n\nI'm not sure about these two, though. There's too much warmth.\n\nBut I guess that's how most of these things start, isn't it? All warm butterflies and happy thoughts and sugary words? You don't have to deal with the endless monotony of broken promises and empty days.\n\nIt seems cruel, that something I've never had before, is about to be taken away. When I fall asleep, they'll be gone. Two people I don't know, have never met, and will probably never see again.\n\nStill, it was nice. To have a mom cut up your banana and read you a story in the afternoon. For your dad to make a silly voice and dangle some keys over you so you'll stay still when a diaper is being changed. \n\nHe's a quiet man, spending a lot of time in his head. The woman is quirky and silly most of the time, though she seems to hide it from those who interact with her. When no one is looking, she'll do a twirling dance that she seems to expect will make me laugh.\n\nSure, I've experienced love before, but there's always something expected out of me. Hell, it's actually never directed at me. Always at the body I'm inhabiting, the mask I'm wearing, the person I'm supposed to be but can never follow.\n\nFor the first time in a long time, I don't want to go to bed.\n\nI want to be normal, to grow up with some kind of family and make friends. To not be alone, time and time again with people I have no connection to.\n\nI'm in one of those things that isn't a crib, but isn't exactly a bed either. There's walls, but the ground is soft like a mattress. There's a stuffed elephant in one corner, and a blanket with trains on either side.\n\nI've sat in one corner, trying to stay awake as long as I can.\n\nMaybe if I stay fully awake in this body, I can stay here. I have no idea what happens to the consciousness of the person I've stolen, but God forgive me, I don't want to leave.\n\nI'm happy.\n\nI'm safe.\n\nI'm warm.\n\nMy eyes droop, my shoulders stoop, my back aches. My legs are short and stubby, worn with a day of walks and play. I can hear the distant murmur of a mother and father discuss the day. \n\nThe room is dark, but there's a night light in the corner, red and inviting. \n\nPlease don't let me go.\n\nPlease don't make me go.\n\nWhatever governs this process, I don't want to switch anymore. I want a body of my own. I know this can be hard, that being a person asks so much of everyone, but please, please let me do it on my own. There's struggles and trials and tribulations, and some are condemned to terrible childhoods that leave scars that'll never heal, but here seems nice. I've seen their eyes and mannerisms and behaviors, and they're loving people. I want what this kid would have. Something I've been denied since I've spent my time jumping from form to form.\n\nI start to cry, but it's not me. It's the body, the undeveloped brain, the tiny form.\n\nAfter awhile, the drowsiness becomes too much.\n\nAnd I close my eyes, drifting away on soft clouds as dark as midnight.\n\nAway, to a different form.\n\nFor the process to repeat again.\n\nThough now I know what I've lost.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nr/storiesfromapotato", "\"Randy. No, Randy, listen to me. You have to tell me what's wrong.\" \n\nSilenor's hand reached towards me, an expression of concern splashed across her face. I could not take it. Not again. I was too far gone this time, and any simple gentleness might be enough to take me. I batted her hand away, and her expression was almost enough to make me wish I hadn't. \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" I winced. \"No. No, I've told you. If I go to sleep...I'm gone.\"\n\n\"Randy.\" She said. \"It's been ten days. Enough. Won't you sleep?\"\n\n\"Remember how you found me?\" I asked. \"Remember where it was?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Her expression softened. \"You were in the garden, sound asleep beneath my apple tree. How peaceful that was, was it not? Remember?\"\n\nFor a moment, I felt my eyelids fall, lulled by her voice. I stood on the edge of a great abyss, about to fall-\n\n\"No!\"\n\nI sat upright, making her jump back. I grit my teeth. Twice, now, I owed her. \n\n\"Silenor, you must understand.\" I pleaded. \"If I fall asleep, I will wake up somewhere else. Somewhere worse. Maybe it will be in someone else's garden, or in an empty field, or in the middle of the ocean! Maybe even somewhere darker, where the light hasn't shone in a hundred years!\"\n\n\"Perhaps, this time, it will be somewhere better?\" She offered. \n\n\"It doesn't matter to me. They're all worse. None of them have...\"\n\nThe last word faltered on my lips. How could it not? How could I tell her how I really felt? For me, it had been a lifetime--longer than I had spent with any woman--but for her, it had barely been more than a week. What was love, to an acquaintance? How could my fleeting passion possibly compare to the years of burning romance that lay ahead of her, with someone else? \n\nA sharp pain in my shoulder shocked me back to my senses. For a moment, I wondered if I really had drifted off, wandered into another hell. But Silenor was still there, smiling kindly, pity on her lips. \n\nA needle glinted in her hand. \n\n\"Silenor, you...?\" \n\n\"You had to sleep, my lovely Randy. Any more of this, and you would die.\" \n\nI would rather die, I wanted to say. I would rather die than leave your side. Was that such a terrible thing to ask for? To have someone else, to be warm with at night, to not have to be afraid of what the next day brought? \n\nI never got the chance. The strength dripped out of my limbs, leaving them as useful as sodden rags. My eyelids fell, too, and it is only by the grace of God that her face was the last thing I saw. \n\nI did not dream, but as I fell, I heard one final word. \n\n\"Goodnight.\"\n\n**\n\nThanks for the read! CC welcomed, and if you liked this story I have a whole subreddit full of them at /r/TimeSyncs! Hope to see you there!*" ]	7
	[WP]You’ve been bitten but you don’t know by what until your first change. There are no other Weres in the world, they are myth after all, but somehow you are the first.	[ "I awoke in the morning to see fur has grown all over my body. I immediately take out a razor to shave the parts that are visible. My boss chastises me for arriving to work late, and the secretary expresses concern over a bite mark on my arm and asks what bit me. I think back to the previous day and remember being attacked by a raccoon in the dumpster.\n\nWhen I sit at my desk to begin my work, I notice that the fur is coming back. My sleeves will hopefually cover it until lunch when I can shave again. The chair becomes increasingly uncomfortable, and I have to do my work standing up because I just can’t sit. My computer keeps blurring, and the colors become increasingly gray. \n\nThe restroom will hopefully be a place of recuperation. On my way there, Karen points and laughs. Screw you Karen. I splash my face with water, and I look up to see my features have become like a raccoon. I race to the toilet to throw up in horror. My pants seem to be tighter, and I rip them off to reveal a tail. I notice that someone has thrown an apple core in the trash and become to snack on it. Someone walks in and recoils in horror. I feel threatened and must attack. I lunge and claw. The screams of my victim gives me pleasure. My boss and coworkers are able subdue me while the authorities are contacted. When emergency services arrive, they tranquilize me. I am put in an ambulance. The doctor tells me that the disease doesn’t normally act this fast. Funny, I have never heard of a wereraccoon yet the doctors seem to be experts and have shots to cure it.\n\nApologies. I hit post before it was complete. As always critiques are welcome." ]	1

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