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[WP] You are abducted by scientists to become a lab rat. They force feed you experimental pills and the outcome is not what they expected at all...
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"Day 50\n\nMy nurse comes in and puts the blue pill on the table. I run over and engulf it. It is better than the alternative of the tube. She puts the yellow pill in front of me. I engulf that as well. The red pill comes out, and I resist this time. She pulls out the tube and places it down my throat. The pill drops down the tube, and I feel my heart burn when it reaches my chest. I am left isolated in my room not knowing my future.\n\nDay 51: repeat\n\nDay 52: repeat\n\nDay 60: I am pulled out of my room and placed into a maze. The nurse informs me that I am supposed to complete the maze for a prize. I can tell by her heartbeat she is lying. Her knee starts glowing, and I hit it and run. The guards emerge and try to stop me. They are both defeated easily. I subconsciously know the way out of the lab. I reach a closet with a window that I break and emerge. I run out into the field and collapse. A doctor comes up to me and analyzes my body.\n\nDoctor, “Interesting, the blue and yellow pills were supposed to suppress the red pills affect. Next time, we will have to increase the dosage of blue/yellow.”\n\nA stake is placed where I collapsed. I look back on the path I ran to see more stakes in the ground. I set a new record."
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[WP] You live in a world where "being in the zone" is a superpower.
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"Amelia stared out of the window, the white fluffy clouds lazily drifting across the sky, envious of all the citizens who had mastered their skills and boosted their great works of art. She was especially annoyed at all the heroes, especially the ones that didn't rely on combat-based skills. \"Flow\", it was called, a legendary ability that all people held. By training any skill to a sufficiently high level, you could push it to create grand spectacles. Yet even after the discovery of Flow, her parents merely wanted her to train skills related to improving the kingdom, such as diplomacy and wooing other boys, in hope of becoming greater than the Minister position her father held. She sighed, resting her head on her left hand. Just when she thought she was going to doze off, she heard a yelling in the distant, and she could have sworn it was her sister. She jumped out of the window, landing on the balcony below. Indeed, what was before her was a gigantic whale taking away her sister by the collar. Confused, she rubbed her eyes to ensure that this was real. But it was indeed true. The flying whale almost seemed to wink as it whisked her away. \n\n\"Mama, papa!\" She called, but by the time they arrived, it was far too late. They dismissed her story as a tale spun by imagination and ushered her back in. However, the minister did find it strange that his daughter disappeared into thin air, so sent a trusted soldier to look for her, since she was known to playfully disappear time to time. But day passed by, and the sister never returned. The minister grew angry, thinking that she had ran away, influenced by Amelia's constant complaining. He ordered her to bed early, and at the same time worried about what really happened to his daughter. That night, Amelia sneaked out, grabbing some food and supply, ready to find her sister. She was one of her only true friends she had and she wasn't about to lose her to some dumb giant whale.\n\nAs she wandered further and further out of town, she then realized how futile this was. How could she find her sister, if a trained soldier couldn't? Perhaps she was being too hopeful. As she thought about the uselessness of her skills, she suddenly remembered that Flow depended on dedication and truthfulness. Had the parents believed her, perhaps they would have found her sister by now. She concentrated greatly, bringing out her map that she brought with her. She focused on what the whale looked like, the taunting face, and how her sister looked scared, unsure of what was going to happen. She felt the familiar Zone come to her, and she realized that her sister was already bought to a faraway kingdom. Though she didn't have a good idea how far, she had an idea of the direction. So she begun her journey, determined to find her sister. *Who knows, maybe someone could teach me about more useful skills than diplomacy*, she thought, recalling knowing a girl who wanted to be a knight in a nearby camp to save her parents from being stuck in the dungeons..."
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[WP]You are a retired superhero,living a quiet life. But when an old enemy shows up once again, you are forced to come out of hiding. Unfortunately all of your teammates are either dead,alcoholics or too lazy to come out of hiding.
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"I was sitting in my recliner, coffee in hand, watching the news like every other day, until the news xuts to a nearby town being attacked by my sworn enemy: \"Frigeon The Cold\" I had sworn I killed him decades ago with my team, I can only hope to win again with my team.\n\n\nJoe, or \"Tos-thro\" who was the best at getting us all where we need in a pinch, even if his methods weren't the safest. I knew where to find Joe, the bar, he hardly leaves after he retired. I saw him talking to the bartender, exchanging jokes like usual. I walked up to Joe and tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, \"Joe, I need you, Frigeon is back\" \n\n\nHe pointed at the television and said, \"Well I knew that, go see Gregory, he's got similar powers.\"\n\n\"Gregory has been dead for nearly a decade now\" I pointed out to him and he simply frowned, shrugged, and went back to talking to the bartender. It was no use, he loves this place. \n\n\nMaybe Carol, or \"Zoomer\" she was the quickest and stealthiest, pointed out just near every weakness, most of the reason we beat Frigeon last time. I knew she was at her nice mansion.\n\nAs soon as I entered she looked at me and gestured for me to sit down, she set a cup of tea down and said, \"I saw the news, and I know why you're here. I'm not going anywhere, Bill.\"\n\nI insisted, \"Carol, come on, I need you for this, I can't take out Frigeon without you!\"\n\n\"I can't go back to the squad, I'm retired, leave it to the military.\" When she said that, I snapped, I slammed my hands on the table,\n\n\"The military can not handle this type of thing, we're the only heroes in this state! You can't sit idly by, Carol!\"\n\n\nShe replied with a simple, \"Watch me.\" and turned her television on to the news. There's only two remaining, living members, married together now. They were known as \"Stample\" and \"Teleknios\" or, Linda and Garrison, respectively. Linda was the tank and could crush anyone with a flick, Garrison could move things with just his mind, no wonder they were a match.\n\nI went to their cozy barn, a tad close to the town being attacked and there they were, slobs with empty bottles of beer by one seat and and a stack of books by the other, they used to be neat-freaks. I had no time to lose, so I rushed to them and said, \"You two must help me against Frigeon! He's back and wrecking the town nearby!\" Garrison put down a half-empty bottle of beer and said,\n\n\"Nah, i-i kinda like thiss place and I don't wanna l-leave right now.\" his words slowed and slurred, clearly drunken. Linda looked up from her book and said,\n\n\"I agree, it isn't harming us, come on Bill, relax, I mean, you can just cut the ice away.\"\n\n\"Everybody is in danger! Come on, help me here!\" I shouted at them both. Garrison simply replied\n\n\"Hey, Is it jusst me or is it c-cold in here?\" I felt it too, it was chilly, I realized, but it was too late. I couldn't move, neither could they. It was the end for us, this time we were the ones to die. "
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[WP] One day, every major religious prediction for the apocalypse happens at the same time. However, each of these start fighting each other in an attempt to be the one true apocalypse, saving humanity.
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"The end did not come as one expected. There was no great man-made atrocity or nuclear winter that wiped out life. What killed us were our own ideas.\n\nOn April 20th, 2020 very major religions doomsday predictions materialized over various religious sites across the globe. Of course, most people didn't understand it at first. Meteors fell from the sky, Jormungander rose from the sea, Jesus descended from heaven. But instead of the Rapture or Ragnarok, the various gods and demons began shouting at each other for being on \"their turf\". The Holiest of Holy wars didn't really begin until Hermes decided to turn Jesus' wine back into the water it was. I'm not saying that ol' JC was an alcoholic, but, man was he pissed.\n\nAfter that, it was an all-out brawl. God vs God fights erupted across the globe, tearing asunder the foundations of mankinds cities. It would never have ended if not for the last Humans who in desperation created an endgame: A new religion with a doomsday more powerful than any other. The last million or so humans began at once worshipping to bring it about, and as the few human lives were to be snuffed out, their saviour came. The flying spaghetti monster arrived in a resplendid pasta chariot pulled by Ravioli steeds. He tore apart any who faced him yet, He was not enough. the last of the human lives were extinguished in the onslaught of the other gods. Leaving him the last being standing. And so there he still stays, on the lifeless rock once known as earth, waiting."
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[WP] You spent the last 10 years in a happy relationship with the love of your life and just proposed to them. They confess that they had been married 3 times before, and every time their partner had died shortly after in tragic yet unexplained circumstances.
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"\"What do you mean, you have been married three times before we met? How is it possible that you've never felt the need to tell me?\" I asked her confused and somewhat angry.\n\n\"Well you need to understand I did not divorce my ex-husbands... They all died in mysterious ways shortly after we married. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think something is wrong with me\" she exlaimed almost crying. \" Please dont leave me, you know I wanna marry you, but I just can't stand the thought of loosing another man I love\"\n\n\"This is a lot of information to swallow... How is it possible that all of them died. Were they killed or did they just randomly drop dead in their sleep? I mean surely there has to be a valid explanation for this.\"\n\nI became more and more confused with every piece of information she fed me. Will I die aswell if I marry her? Is she crazy and kills all her husbands of? Millions of questions popped into my head.\n\n\"They died peacefully in their sleep atleast that is what the doctor said. You know I wouldnt lie about something like this! We've been together for 10 years and I love you with all my heart and I truly do wanna marry you I am just scared that the same will happen to you. You have to believe me.\" \n\n\"Good she does not have the slightest clue\" I thought to myself, \"now I only need to keep this masquerade up\"\n\n\"Honey you have to admit that all of this sound a little bit sketchy but I love you so I am willing to look past all of this but tell me: Do you think that maybe, I dont even wanna think about this, they were killed by someone?\" I asked her, hoping to get more informations about the state of the investigations.\n\n\"Yes I can say that with 100% certainty. The police investigated very thourougly and they didnt find any clues which would point to a murderer. Honey I know that I shouldve told you but I was too scared of your reaction. I am so sorry please forgive me\"\n\n\"Okay I believe you and yes I do still love you lets get married!!\" I told her knowing there was no real danger because the police was wrong. She had a stalker who killed her husbands and who I did not have to fear because it was me who murdered her husbands."
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[WP] As someone who grew up in a creationist household, you find the concept of evolution to be incompatible with Christianity. So God decides to make you relive the lives of all your ancestors from the Earth's beginning to the Stone Age.
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"I just had to reply to this brilliant prompt.\n\n---\n\nKids in our country are thought creationism in kindergarten, possibly because young kids cannot understand the concept of evolution. As a result, I grew up to be a creationist who thought the world was 6,000 years old and that every living thing was designed by God. That all changed one day when I saw a book in the library.\n\nThe book says the earth was 4.5 billion years old, divided into geological stages, and that every living thing on earth emerged from a single common ancestor. At first I didn't believe it as I was thought from an early age that it directly contradicts God's word. I threw the book on the floor and went home.\n\nThat night I was visited by God in a dream. He said \"I want to teach you the truth. Evolution is true. I am sorry that I put the story of creation in the Bible. Here is the proof.\"\n\nSuddenly I was transported to an ocean 550 million years ago. I was no longer a person; I was a single-celled organism floating freely in the water. After reproducing a little, I found myself 50 million years later, as a fish-like creature swimming amongst many alien organisms. 100 million years after that, I found myself as a fish with four flippers, that to my surprise, I could use to crawl onto the land.\n\nIt was now 300 million years before the present day. I was a reptile-like creature with a sail on my back, which resembled a dinosaur (though I wasn't). Next, 200 million years ago, I was a creature that resembled a small dog, but deep inside I could tell I was still a reptile. Fast forward to 60 million years ago, I was a true mammal who scampered across the ground looking for things to eat.\n\n25 million years later, I was a sort of primate who climbed in trees. 25 more million years after that, I resembled a gorilla who stood upright most of the time. Finally, I close to true history and away from prehistory. I was now a true human, living in the Stone Age. I drew some pictures on a cave wall, then finally I woke up from my dream.\n\nTime to prove those creationists wrong."
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[WP] You have the ability to create save points during the day. The catch? You have no control when and where the save points are created.
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"This was a bad one, Jason thought as he rushed down the dark stairwell. He nearly lost his footing, an unfortunate consequence of the fact that his right foot was almost certainly broken. Still, he fought through the pain and pressed on, the sounds of the descending footfalls above pushing him forward. \n\nIf he stopped, he would have more than his foot to worry about. \n\nHe reached the next platform and shoved the door open. It led to a dimly lit corridor with another door at the end. If he sprinted he should be able to make it. He gritted his teeth and ran as far as fast as his feet could take him. \n\n“You won’t make it.” The voice made itself known and he cursed inwardly. \n\n“Fuck you,” he said.\n\n“You should restart now before it’s too late.” \n\nHe ignored it. The door was right there. Just a few more steps.\n\nA loud crack reverberated in the hallway, so loud it hurt his ears. He reached out for the doorknob just a few feet outside his grasp and noticed almost absently that his feet were no longer moving. He swore he felt his body fall for a solid minute before it hit the floor. It wasn’t until he felt the warmth pooling beneath his chest that he realized what had happened. \n\n“Told you,” the voice said. It sounded almost giddy. \n\n“Jason.” Another voice, this one tangible, corporeal, came from the opposite end of the hall. He heard the footsteps approaching, slowly this time, patiently. \n\n“Your luck has run out this time, bud,” the man said. Jason swallowed and closed his eyes. \n\n“He’s wrong you know.”\n\n“Shut up,” Jason muttered.\n\n“You still have time. We still have time.” \n\n“Not again.” Jason shook his head. “I can’t do it again.” \n\nThe steps grew louder, closer. \n\n“We still have a few seconds.” It sounded urgent, not quite as confident as usual. \n\n“I can’t.” Then after some hesitation, “Can you at least tell me where I’ll end up this time?” \n\n“You know I can’t do that. That’s not the way it works, Jason.”\n\n“Then fuck it.” He felt his life draining from him and embraced it. “Let this be game over.” \n\n“It isn’t over until I say it’s over,” the voice said. There was no tone to its speech, and yet it Jason thought it sounded like a snarl.\n\n“Tell ya girl, Cindee I said hello,” said his assailant. Jason opened his eyes to the glint of steel above him. \n\n“Jason!” It cried out. \n\nHe bit his lip. \n\n“Fine. Take me ba…”\n\nThe bullet fired and everything went white. \n\n“Jason? Jason?”\n\nUgh, leave me alone. Let me die. \n\n“Jason? Are you having a seizure!?”\n\nHis eyes snapped back into focus, his body sprawled out on dingy sofa. A bowl of Doritios lay discarded on the floor. \n\n“Jason?” The girl lay a hand on his chest. “Are you alright?”\n\n“Yeah,” he said. His torso ached. “Yeah, Cindee, I’m fine.” \n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] It’s been years since you’ve used Chat Roulette. You decide to go back on and the first person you match with is you, from the last time you used Chat Roulette
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"It was another boring evening alone in my apartment, and I found myself typing \"ChatRoulette\" into the search bar on my laptop browser.\n\nI can't say what drew me to it, exactly. Loneliness, perhaps? Nostalgia? It had been where I'd met her, after all. But I didn't like to think about that.\n\nI peered over the edge of my screen, glancing around my room. Pizza boxes were strewn in all corners of the room. Several piles of unfolded laundry in various stages of uncleanliness thronged the sides of my bed.\n\nThe bed itself had no sheets. I'd been too tired to put them back on the last time I'd washed them. That was over a month ago. There I sat, swaddled in a comforter on a stained mattress, looking for something to pass the time.\n\nGod, she would've been horrified.\n\nThe familiar screen loaded up, and I instantly regretted my decision.\n\nMy greasy, matted beard and dark eye bags stared back at me in my webcam. Saying I looked rough would be charitable. Frankly, though, I looked exactly like the kind of guy you'd expect to see on Chatroulette at 3 A.M., so I decided to proceed.\n\nAs I clicked the mouse to randomize my first video partner, I froze.\n\nAt first I thought I'd made a mistake, that I'd somehow opened up an old video I'd saved on my hard drive or something, because...\n\nIt was me.\n\nNot the unshaved, filthy gremlin staring back at me with wide, unblinking eyes, but a younger, smiling, just-out-of college me. The way I'd looked three years ago.\n\nThe younger me waved at the screen. I stared back, unable to process what was happening.\n\nSensing my lack of response, I could see my younger self's hand moving toward his mouse.\n\n\"Wait!\" I yelled, my voice coming out in a sort of panicked croak.\n\nThe younger me stopped, puzzled, and locked eyes with me. \n\n\"Uh... yeah?\" He said. It was my voice. I was sure of it.\n\nHe didn't seem to recognize me, but I couldn't blame him. My beard covered much of my face, and my hair was much longer now. To top it off, I'd put on at least forty pounds in the last 9 months.\n\n\"Is- Is Sara there?\" I asked, barely managing a whisper.\n\nHe looked confused, and smirked. \n\n\"I don't know anyone named Sara. Or, at least, nobody I can think of.\"\n\nMy heart sank, and I felt the stinging pain of loss in my gut all over again. But maybe there was still a chance. Or maybe my mind had finally snapped, and this was all a delusion. Still. It was worth a try.\n\nI cleared my throat, and spoke as clearly as I could, though my voice was wavering.\n\n\"Listen, this is gonna sound crazy, but just listen to me for a second. You're gonna meet a girl named Sara soon. She has blue eyes and long black hair, and she's the best thing that's ever going to happen to you. On your 23rd birthday, she's going to leave work early to surprise you. Don't let her. Pick her up, make her call in sick. Do whatever you have to do. She doesn't make it home, Dylan. You have to promise me!\" \n\nBy this point I was choking back tears. Until this point, my younger self had been listening, looking sorewhat uncomfortable. But when I said our name, his eyes widened, and he brought his face closer to the screen, a horrible look of realization creeping over his face. We locked eyes again.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nAnd then, as quickly as it began, the call ended.\n\nI wept like a baby, tears spilling onto my bare chest, my body heaving with painful, choking sobs. It had been so long since I'd cried, since I'd felt anything but numb.\n\nAfter a few minutes, I calmed down, still shuddering, but mostly together. I didn't know if I'd imagined the whole thing, or if I'd saved some parallel version of myself from facing the same grief, I had, but at least for the moment, I felt a little better.\n\nAnd that's when I heard the door open."
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[WP] You are abducted by aliens. They take you to their ship and discuss amongst themselves how to feed you while you are under their possession. After much research about the human diet, they bring you something... interesting.
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"I didn't really blame the Xyrtllians. English is a tough language for Earthers to learn, let alone a bunch of space-hopping weirdos like these guys. They tried very hard to get it, but idiom and metaphor seemed to escape them. Still, when they presented me with an apple for breakfast, I was a little nonplussed. An apple? That's it? Oh, there are apple-shaped gummy vitamins and a big piece of tofu shaped like an apple too? Huh. I dig in. Been starving for about 17 hours.\n\n\"You...like? Is...good...for...human...to...eat?\" Yes, big alien one, this is good for me to eat. A little bland, you know, but I can't complain. \"We...know...earthlings...say...about...apple...a...day...We...do...not...want...you...sick.\" I nearly choked on my big bite of Pink Lady with laughing. \"What...so...funny?\" Nothing, bud, nothing. I'm actually really touched. Thanks for the delicious apple. Got any soy sauce for this tofu? Yum. \n\nEvery day it was the same meal, three times a day. Apple, apple gummy multivitamin, apple shaped tofu. If an apple a day kept the doctor away, I guess they thought I'd live forever on 9 \"apples\" a day. Of course, I wanted off the damn ship, and even though they were terribly sorry and quite apologetic, I was still getting probed in places that we shan't discuss. But I started slowly gaining their trust as a model prisoner/friend/science experiment, and they began letting me roam the ship a little. Then one day, eureka. \n\nI sidled over to big alien 1. Hey, just curious, how do you guys do with cyanide? Terribly, huh? Okay! Just curious, really. Humans love it, it's a treat for us. I understand, you can't give me any. Oh well. \n\nSo I started saving my apple seeds and told my Xyrtllian friends that I was going to grow a tree on their planet once we reached their home world. I mean, yeah, I lied, but if you were having a four foot tube shoved up there you would lie too. Here's a fun fact, apple seeds have cyanide in them. Normally the stomach can't properly dissolve the hard outer shell and release the cyanide, but say you crushed them up, and then poured the crushed up seeds into the plumbing system just downstream of the filtration system... \n\nI guess I own a Xyrtllian ship now. Hopefully there's an owner's manual that I can run through the translator. \n\nAlso fun fact: Xyrtllians taste like flank steak. \n\n"
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[WP] On your 18th birthday, you decide to visit your brother's gravestone. As you kneel to read his headstone, you hear someone behind you. It is him, wielding a sword. Anxious, he says, "Brother, we need you."
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"“Where’d you go brother...” I begin to tear up as I kneel before my brother’s gravestone, the words “Missing in Action” engraved below the day he went missing. My older brother, Duncan Jones, was an army soldier and was often deployed to various countries outside of the homeland, his life often hanging in the balance. My mother and I was often worried about how my brother would just disappear one day, but when he finally did... we weren’t ready for it.\n\nA knock on our front door on a cold, rainy November afternoon was the last we heard about him, about how his platoon had encountered enemy fire and was completely wiped out. The follow up forces were greeted with a sea of blood and bodies, the prospect of any survivors grim, but they were unable to find the corpse of my older brother.\n\nWe were told he had been captured by enemy intelligence, most likely awaiting a life of torture and pain, and was now treated as a man missing in action. My mother dropped to her knees as she began to hyperventilate, my legs frozen to the ground as the horrible news barely registered into my head. The next week went by in a blur, my mind empty as my body mindlessly followed through with my brother’s funeral, not a single memory of those days in my head...\n\n“Please... God...” I clasp my hands together for the tenth time this month, my daily visit to my brother’s grave now a part of my daily routine. “If you’re out there... please bring my brother home...” I pray to a god I do not believe in, hopelessness and despair forcing me to rely on anything I could put my faith in. \n\n*Crack*\n\n“WHO’S THERE?!” I scream as I hear a twig snap behind me, the feeling of being alone in a cemetery creepy enough to make my body jolt at any noise. I freeze as I turn to face the source of the noise, my eyes unable to keep up with what they were seeing and my mind automatically blaming itself for making up illusions. I feel a tear trickle down my cheek as a young man stood a few feet away from me, his face undoubtedly my brother’s.\n\n“I don’t have time to explain...” The man that appeared to be my brother remarks before I was even able to jump up and give him a hug, his sudden words causing my mind to snap back into reality. “Just take this and follow me.” My brother continues as he hands me a large metal sword.\n\n“Wait... What’s going on?” I question as I finally register what my brother was wearing, the young man’s toned body hidden away under a layer of full plate armour, his outfit and the sword in his hand reminiscent of the medieval ages. \n\n“I don’t have time to explain...” My brother repeats as he throws the sword at my feet, his sweat coated skin and his anxious look telling me that something was happening... and it wasn’t good. “Just take that sword and follow me... we need your strength...”\n\n“Who’s we?”\n\n“The holy kingdom of Fralancia.” "
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[WP] Alien scientists have researched Earth’s intergalactic war history from Reddit and warn their Generals to not attack based upon the thousands of stories of humanities victories. The warning is not headed. Turns out, Humans aren’t that great after all.
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"\"Well\", Rol'Pi the Great muttered to himself, \"that was far easier than I'd have thought.\" He looked through his ship's viewscreen, which had split itself into a multitude of different video feeds, all of which showed the absolute, and as far as he could tell the total, annihilation of the human race. \n\n\"Seriously, based on the humans' war journals, I expected a battle to tell of for the ages. I just don't understand. Thoughts, Eul'av?\"\n\nEul'av thoughtfully ran his primary tentacle under what could loosely be classified as a chin, and mused aloud, \"It's almost as if all of the journals were... Made up? But why would so many do such a thing? Boredom? Self-aggrandizement? Both?\"\n\nRol'Pi snorted in response. \"Don't be absurd. There would be no point to such mindless drivel. How sad and pathetic would such creatures be? Perhaps the warning shot of our quantum cannon effected their specific biology in a way we don't yet understand.\"\n\nEul'av nodded his head in a fairly noncommittal manner. \"It's possible, my Lord, but we didn't actually penetrate their atmosphere with the charge. Once the cannon fired, over the next few of their days, they tore each other to pieces over whose fault it was. Perhaps the fallout effected their neural pathways somehow?\" \n\nRol'Pi turned to his favored lieutenant and stared, mouth agape. \"You mean to tell me they did all this to THEMSELVES?? Did we even put down a single landing craft?\"\n\nEul'av chortled and replied, \"Yes Lord, but not until they had finished killing each other off. Why waste resources we needn't? But now that you mention the landing craft, that reminds me: ship 295 sends a strange update. They've found a single survivor of Earth. Apparently claims to be an immortal that's been walking among them for hundreds, if not thousands, of their years. Says he's glad it's all over with, and would appreciate a ride to, and I quote, 'anywhere but this shithole'.\"\n\nRol'Pi's eyes grew a little wider as he read the report handed to him that detailed more of ship 295's discovery. \"Indeed. Says here he bodes us no ill will, as we never technically attacked anyone. That he isn't surprised in the least that humanity tore itself to shreds. Well, I say why not. Let us go greet this 'Keanu Reeves'.\n"
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Edit: lasts instead of last's obviously.
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[WP] "Welcome to Mr. Natas' Unique Pawn Shop! For just 1 human soul, you get a boon for a day. For 5, you get a blessing that last's a lifetime. And for 10, you get powers not from this world! Collect souls, and spend them here. Happy shopping!"
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"\"Welcome!\" the thin man said from behind the counter. He smiled at the two women that walked in, a tall pale woman wearing a white skirt suit and a shorter woman in a matching black suit. The shorter one carried a small white leather briefcase. \"I don't remember seeing you two lovely ladies in here before, do you know how the shop works?\" Mr. Natas asked. The woman in white nodded.\n\n​\n\n\"Yes, we've heard. I came to see what kind of powers you're offering for 10 souls.\" The two women reached the counter and waited for his answer.\n\n​\n\n\"Oh you know, the usual stuff. Super strength, flight, elemental control and so on.\" Again, the woman in white nodded, then she followed up with another question.\n\n​\n\n\"And how do you collect the souls? Would I need to bring all 10 humans here?\" Mr. Natas gave the woman a curious look. Her light blue eyes stared at him with an objective coldness, as if she were appraising him somehow. He nodded while stroking his long dark goatee.\n\n​\n\n\"Of course. All transactions need to be voluntary. Can you find 10 people willing to sell their soul for you?\" The shorter woman burst into laughter, but a stern look from the woman in white calmed her down.\n\n​\n\n\"If it becomes necessary, that's not a problem,\" the tall woman replied. \"And what do you do with the souls once they're in your possession?\" Mr. Natas' eyes narrowed at her.\n\n​\n\n\"Who are you?\" The woman in white reached across the counter with an open hand.\n\n​\n\n\"I apologize. I assumed a busy man like you would rather not waste time on pleasantries,\" she said while they shook hands. \"My name is Dana Sharp,\" She gestured to the woman in black with her other hand. \"This is my wife and business associate, Melody.\" Melody gave him a small wave. \"What do you do with the souls, Mr. Natas?\"\n\n​\n\n\"It's private business,\" he replied with a firm tone. Dana nodded.\n\n​\n\n\"Very well, thank you for your time. Good luck.\" She turned to move toward the door, but Mr. Natas stopped her.\n\n​\n\n\"Wait! Don't you want to sell me a soul or ten?\" She stopped and turned to face him.\n\n​\n\n\"Quite the opposite. I came to inspect your business,\" she shrugged. \"I was considering buying you out, but I can't do that if I don't know how you operate.\" Mr. Natas doubled over with laughter.\n\n​\n\n\"Buy me out?!!\" He continued grinning at them. \"I trade in souls, lady. What makes you think I'm interested in any amount of money?\" Dana gave him a confused look and shrugged.\n\n​\n\n\"Nothing. What makes you think I'm offering you money?\" Mr. Natas stopped laughing.\n\n​\n\n\"Alright, I'm curious enough. I send the souls to Hell,\" he paused and looked at them for a reaction. They stared at him waiting for more. \"If I send them enough souls, I get to quit and be my own demon.\"\n\n​\n\n\"What do they do with the souls?\" Dana asked again. Mr. Natas shrugged.\"Different things. Some souls wander through hell for eternity, some get eaten, and some are recycled. I was lucky enough to get recycling duty. The quality of souls doesn't matter all that much, so I opened this shop to help me get to the quota faster.\" Dana smiled.\n\n​\n\n\"That's what I needed to know. If the quality doesn't matter, I believe we can do business. How many more souls do you need to fill your quota?\"\n\n​\n\n\"A couple million,\" he sighed.\n\n​\n\n\"Okay. I'll pay them out if you come work for me,\" Dana replied with a straight face.\n\n​\n\n\"Sure, that works. Come back in a few millennia when you've collected them all,\" he waved at her dismissively.\n\n​\n\n\"Melody?\" Dana called. The shorter woman placed the small white case on the counter and opened it for Mr. Natas. The interior was a red velvet surface with 10 nodes slotted into it vertically. Melody pulled out a playing-card-sized glass rectangle and handed it to Mr. Natas.\"Each of those contains 10 human souls. I have enough to make your payment, today if you agree to work for me.\" Mr. Natas stared at the transparent rectangle. His fingertips glowed with red energy as he inspected it. He felt 10 distinct, whole human souls in it, and his eyes widened.\"What would I be doing for you?\" He asked. He saw a way out of hell, but he wanted to make sure he wasn't going into a different one.\"This, pretty much.\" Dana gestured at the shop around them with wide arms. \"I'll need your help to recoup the souls I'm spending for you, but at the very least you won't be an employee of Hell.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #332. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.\n\n​\n\n\\*edit: spacing\\*"
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[WP] During conversations, dialogue options appear and are colored to distinguish their importance. White for mostly banal outcomes, orange for things like "Will you go on a date with me?", and red for very critical decisions. During a normal conversation with a friend, a black option appears.
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"\"Hey man, how you doing?\" \n\nWow my friend can be sneaky when he wants to be. Thank goodness time allows me to consider what I want to say next. The options in front of me now where \"AAA\",\"Arghh\", \"Oh hi\", and the option to say nothing. All white meaning it doesn't really matter which I choose. I think I'll go for \"Oh hi\"\n\n\"We were thinking of getting some chips, wanna come with us?\" \n\nOh boy, yes. Lets see... A white \"Maybe\", a red \"No\", a red \"Yes\", and a red \"Hell yes\". Huh, didn't give me the option to say nothing... All well. Red means an important decision and orange is for questions. \n\n\"Great, meet us by the shop at 8 and bring enough money for yourself\"\n\n\"Alright\" \n\n++++8 pm++++\n\nCrap I'm late. Crap crap c- whose that in the alley... I can either keep walking or say som- an orange \"hello?\", a red \"what are you doing\" and a black \"what is that you're holding, can I see it?\"... wait, black? The hell does that mean... Well, I'm not finding out... I think this is none of my business anyway. \n\n\"HELP! You standing there, he has a knife!\"\n\nOh fuck that's my friends voice... Well shit. I have a red \"Stop in the name of the law\", a white \"nothing\", a black \"I'll save you\", and a blacker \"Step away from my friend\"... It looks like the only way to save my friend is the red option. \n\n\"What's the law gonna do to me punk? Come here!\" \n\nWell my friend has taken their chance but now all my options are black... And I think I know what it means..."
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[WP] Whereas most hunters like to take on big trophy monsters like Dragons, you much more prefer to take on more niche monsters like Manticores or Chimeras, and this newest job is by far the most interesting one yet.
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"You’ve had your share of strange jobs, like the giant who paid you three chests of oranges to kill a Cyclops, but this is the strangest yet. \n\n“You’re asking me to find a *what*?”\n\n“A Kirin,” The Goblin explained, “ A dragon-horse thing. It has horns too! And it can breath fire! Plus it...” You start tuning her out as she begins to ramble.\n\nAs you take a moment to process what she told you, you look over your latest client. She’s smaller then most goblins you’ve seen, and lacks the horns typical of her kind, having short, black hair instead. She’s carrying a large staff, a head taller than her, embroidered with runes and amethysts.\n\n“Well? Can you do it?” She asks impatiently, annoyed at your thinking.\n\n“Depends what you’re paying.” You say. “Hunting after mythical creatures isn’t my area of expertise, and I don’t normally take others with me.\n\n“I have amethysts! Well, I don’t, but my Dad does! And if you help me, he’ll want to help you!” She says excitedly.\n\nAmethysts might not be as easily spent as drico, but they’re worth a lot more. You finish thinking and proclaim, “Let’s find your mythical creature then, miss?”\n\n“Oh! I didn’t tell you my name! I’m Dravena Ten-Spear, pleased to meet you!”\n\nSomething comes to your mind as she speaks her name. You’re certain you’ve heard it before. Maybe one of your clients-\n\n“WAIT!” She shouts, interrupting your thoughts. “I don’t know your name! The people from the guild only told me to find the ‘Human with the mask’. Shouldn’t I know you’re name? I mean you know mine and-“\n\n“Alvar. My names Alvar. I’m going to grab some supplies, you can stay here.” You step outside the inn before she can complain.\n\nAs you head towards the market, you realize where you’ve heard her name before.\n\nFrom Taratoan Ten-Spears, King of the Fire-Mountain.\n\nTalking about his daughters.\n\nYou hate your luck.",
"\"Look pal; whatever it is you need hunting, I can handle it.\" Drask said, taking another swig from his tankard.\n\n\"So you claim,\" the potential client, a short, wiry man said with a hint of uncertainty, \"and yet from what I hear; you refuse the big hunts.\"\n\n\"Because anyone can hunt a *Dragon*.\" Drast waved a hand dismissively. \"Sure they're big and powerful and fiery, but the tricks to getting past their armour and fiery breath are so well known you could ask any of the guys in this tavern and they'd probably be up for it. Same with hunting a Phoenix, or a Hydra. What I'm good at though, is hunting the monsters most don't bother to learn the tricks of. You wont find anyone else who can hunt a Basilisk AND a Cockatrice at the same time! Do you have any idea how you'd take down a pair of creatures, one that kills you if you look at it, the other that kills you f you hear it?\"\n\n\"I cant say that I do.\" the man admitted.\n\n\"Well I'll tell you how; just as a free tip. You make them fight each other. Their own worst enemies, those two are. Yup; I could tell you the tricks for slaying any kind of strange creature you can think of; Whether it's a Salamander or a Wendigo, a Kelpie or a Manticore, I know how to kill them all.\"\n\n\"And what if I didn't want you to kill it?\" the man asked, \"Suppose I wanted it alive?\"\n\n\"Well, that would cost extra,\" Drask said. \"These things don't just come quietly. But it's doable. I've tamed Nightmares and caught Griffins, I'm sure your beast wont be much of a problem.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" the man reached into his coat, pulling out a sheet of parchment with a hastily drawn sketch on it, \"how much would it cost for a live Raiju?\"\n\nDrask stared at the parchment silently for a moment, before a wide grin spread across his scarred face \"Now *this* is going to be an interesting one!\"",
"\"Really? You want me to hunt that?!\" He was bewildered, but it was his job to kill the beast, not question why.\n\nTorstin was a bounty hunter. He killed magical creatures that people wanted as trophies but were unwilling to put the time or effort into killing them. But that made Torstin all the richer. \n\nThe only job he had ever turned down was killing a Dragon. And not for the reasons one would think. Torstin wasn't scared of dying, in fact he found the hunts exhillarating. No, the reason he wouldn't kill dragons was because he saw them as the only creatures that were his equal. They were preditory and deadly, things that he saw in himself. \n\n\"Yes, *that*. I'll pay you well!\"\n\n\"Oh I know you will. Men like you always do.\" \n\nHe tried not to look down on the pale skinny man with distaste. He failed. Never one to care what people thought, he saw the man frown in disapproval. But it was true, men like Rodney *always* paid well. They had to, or Torstin simply wouldn't give them their trophy.\n\n\"But really? A unicorn? What is this, your daughters 5th birthday party?\"\n\n\"I'll have you know, I won't tolerate being spoken to like that!\"\n\n\"I'll have you know, I won't tolerate... \" Torstin repeated in a childishly high voice before breaking off laughing. \n\nRodney shoved himself out of his seat and was marching himself towards the door before Torstin spoke again, this time in a deep commanding voice. \"Stop! I'll hunt your damn unicorn. But you'll pay my price, and you'll tell me what you want with it.\"\n\nHunting a unicorn would be like kicking a puppy. Something Torstin was more than *capable* of doing, but he wasn't going to do it without a damn good reason. Unicorns were as docile as a milch cow, and half the size. \n\n\"What's your price?\"\n\n\"What's *your* reason?\"\n\n\"I need the horn.\"\n\n\"Okay bud, you're going to have to give me a lot more than 'I need the horn'.\"\n\n\"I need to create a blade crafted from a pure innocence. It needs to be at least 8 inches long. I will be using it for my own purposes.\"\n\nTorstin wasn't exactly satisfied with that answer, but he was going to make up for it with what he was going to charge Rodney. \n\n\"Alright.\"\n\n\"Alright? You'll do it?\" Rodney was nearly squealing in excitement, and Torstin mentally added another 0 to the end of his price.\n\n\"I will.\""
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[WP] You are an all powerful being who's sole purpose is to devour planets with developing life, the most recent victim known to the local's as 'Earth' was a great snack but a couple days later you realise your starting to not feel so great.
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"\"UUURRRRRrrrRRRPPPPpPP!!\"\n\nI immediately know something is wrong. The small, juicy morsel I have just eaten should not be giving me this much gas--furthermore, I should not have been able to hear such an expulsion. I stop moving and consider the implications.\n\nIt was a small, rocky morsel--but with liquid gleaming on its surface. It wasn't even a mouthful, and I could swallow it whole. Just a light snack on my way to the nearby drive-thru. And yet, the gas--and now the queasy feeling in my stomach. Apparently, this little bite didn't agree with my delicate palate and I had immediately swallowed it in an attempt to skip the taste and get right down to the digestion and nourishment.\n\nI have eaten all sorts of food. Large, gaseous whipped cream tastes the sweetest and comes in *all* the flavors, but, again, the gas that follows through my digestive tract is more than enough trouble to avoid it unless I absolutely need it. How the processors can live in such an environment astounds even me, but at least they don't have the fear of eating the wrong thing. Most of it ends up my nose anyways--more trouble than it's worth, honestly. The ice cream are good for licking, but not really consuming--and there aren't very many ice cream with processers on them. Small rocky are the safest due to the numerous processers that often live on them, but they taste rather bland--unless they have liquid on them, which makes chewing and swallowing easier. The ones closest to the boilers have a burnt taste, which also has a tendency to upset my stomach.\n\nThe big boilers at the center are great for drinking from, but only if they are red--a nice, hot coffee in the morning does wonders for one's digestive tract and mood. Yellow ones are too spicy for my tastes. Blue ones are off limits. White ones are pretty empty.\n\nMy stomach gives a *twang*, and I immediately start regretting eating this morsel. The processors on this one were numerous--and apparently pretty advanced and angry. Angrily-advanced? I don't understand--aren't the processors put on my food to sweeten it? Maybe some processors do different things to the food to keep me from eating it. Maybe this morsel was being saved for another Eater? I've had this issue a few times before where--*ooof*\n\nCompletely indigestible. I feel my gut's protesting as the morsel rockets through it. I feel the inevitable coming, and brace myself for what's to come.\n\nI'm not sure why this food didn't agree with my stomach. All I know is that it was a *lot* more spicy coming out than it was going in."
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[WP] As an apprentice villain, you are about to embark upon your rite of passage to full villainhood, which countless others have embarked on before you. Your task: Attack New York City.
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"I gritted my teeth as I enacted the last stage of my plan. I knew it would work, because I had an advantage over every other villain out there.\n\nI remembered leaving Villain Headquarter Saloon. Good ol' VHS. We were really going to have to change that name one of these days; more than half of my class had only heard of VHS in the same way our predecessors had heard of 8-tracks. Fossils. The initialism made us sound outdated. It didn't help that the place used our membership fees to decorate with what my dad would have referred to as \"Ugh, just a little before my day.\" Horrendous, post-trend furniture clashed in our meeting room, giving it the look of the bastard offspring of the 70's and 80's.\n\nThe others had, of course, laughed at my choice of target for my masterpiece. Another damn antique word. This was a masterpiece in the way that old guilds had apprentices create masterpieces to become full masters. Not a masterpiece like the Mona Lisa (which I confess, I just don't get). New York was the holy grail. Well, the holy apple. The target that would make any villain's name if they could pull off a serious job there. No apprentice yet had tried it. Heck, most of the full-fledged villains failed in their grand schemes.\n\nThe best way from VHS to NYC was by Grayhound. What had Mellencamp called it, the \"old dog?\" Everything about the entire villain organization screamed \"last gen.\" Including their approach to attacks. Every NYC attack—success or failure—I had ever heard of involved something stereotypical. A hack of the Dow by a tech-based villain. Attempts to take over the Mayor's office by force. Infiltration of the police departments. Bombings or other attacks of mass destruction. And, of course, your good old-fashioned bank heist.\n\nThing was, the heroes knew how we viewed NYC, and always kept a squad of the best and brightest there to fend off the inevitable incursion. Every standard point of attack was covered, and the heroes could react at a moment's notice.\n\nI was not strong enough to fight the heroes. I knew that. Everyone knew that. They literally held my funeral the moment I got on the bus. I could hear the bagpipes as I was riding away. I'm just a chemical tinkerer, and not even the best at that. But, like I said, I had an advantage.\n\nIt was a two-stage plan. I had first called in an anonymous tip to Dial-A-Hero, claiming that the city's supply of pentobarbital, a pet euthanasia drug, had been laced with an explosive compound. A few laced bottles placed at random intervals around the city had convinced the heroes to confiscate the whole lot of it. NYC now had a shortage.\n\nThe second stage... it was tough, even for me. Not difficult, but tough. Pouring the last bits of my solution into the city's water supply, I felt a bittersweet victory. The \"poison the well\" approach had been used so many times that the heroes had implemented safeguards against all known poisons and mind control agents. At least, all of them that worked on humans.\n\nTomorrow, every dog in the city will drink from its bowl of water, lovingly placed there by its owner. Each one will then begin to attack indiscriminately. They will eventually form packs. The damage to people will be real, but that's not the goal. At some point, the heroes will be called in. The same heroes that confiscated the drugs that could put the dogs out of their misery in a painless, humane manner. They will have no choice but to destroy the dogs.\n\nWhen the citizens of New York see their heroes—their **heroes**—brutally killing their pets due to a euthanasia shortage they themselves caused... well, there won't be any more heroes in NYC. Only villains.\n\nI can't fight the heroes. But I have the advantage. I am willing to cross every line, even those that other villains hold sacred. I *will* take over.\n\nAnd then, I'm going to get rid of that wretched shag carpet in the hideout.\n\n​\n\n*(Inspired by a friend who had to put down his dog this morning. RIP Danzig. I really hope you enjoyed the Baconator.)*"
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[WP] You were born on a leap day and both age and mature 4 times slower than everyone else. After 72 years, its finally your 18th birthday.
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"My mom always said it was a blessing. God made me in his image, and I should be proud. I am. Know that as you read this, I love God and I do not question his judgement. But I do question myself. When I was fourteen, many years after I gave up on grade school, new neighbor's moved in and they had two kids. A son my age at the time and a girl who was 5. The son and I became fast friends. Everyday after school he'd come to my house and we'd go to a hide away in the woods, conversations included girls or sports games, and activities involved cards or wrestling. One day he convinced me to go on a bike ride in the neighborhood with him, he was at the time asking for weeks to go on a bike ride so he could show off his new BMX bike. So we went off, he showed me a wheelie and an ollie, both tricks which I had learned many years ago, and I acted impressed. While we were wrapping up our last round of the neighborhood we ran into a couple of his friends of his. The group as well as him stopped on the side of the road, I stopped on the other. The house we stopped in front of, was tall, blue and bold. He called me over, and I went. As he was introducing me and I was unfastening my helmet the front door from house slammed. Our collective heads snapped, and a voice reverberated through our conscious and exited, our previous understanding fractured, in two different ways. One of which was the dropping of his bike and rushing towards the sound and the other remaining his ground, perched on his diagonally cocked bike. The voice barreled past the retreating kids and approached us, \"Listen, and listen good, *boy,* Stay away from my son and his-ACCCKHH\" and thats when he cracked his shin with his bike wheel and we biked off. \n\nTime came and went, He graduated high school, then college, and I went from a young teen to a young man. He'd come back for summers and each summer we'd talk less and less until eventually, we didn't talk at all. As we grew apart, I grew closer with her. We became reluctant friends at first, because our relationship from older brothers friend "
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[WP] Every person, just before they die, realize that the impending cause of death has been foreshadowed throughout their lives in various ways. After surviving a near-death experience, one person creates a business to help others suss out their own impending dooms.
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"I smile as I welcome my next client, they explain their situation, their frequent run ins with alcohol related scuffles, their relationship troubles, bouncing from relationship to relationship.\n\nIt doesn't take long to help this man out, of course I have a process I keep to, to ensure we don't gloss over important information, it gives them the impression I know what I'm doing, so we schedule an appointment next Friday.\n\nHe walks out the door, leaving it open, while I save his file, and print a paper copy, as back up. You never know with technology. As I close the file drawer, a folder falls out, my name written on it. I open it \n\n\n \nAn accident at the shooting range, leaving me with a scar in my foot. \nAnd the shop owner, I recall her furious, as I had warned shop-goers of her scam, I since then keep my doors locked and bolted. \nI had these filed, in case I felt like giving it a real go, better to start with myself. \nI still had more to file, but was for when I felt like it. Suddenly, they start to make sense. \nA gun shot, an angry woman, a scam, and open door. Shit the door!\n\nI look up, a woman walking into my office, face red with fury. \n\"You lied!\" She screamed, gun drawn, she pulled the trigger, the pain of another bullet wound flooded my senses. \n\"He's dead! You killed him with your lies!\" Another shot, this time in my chest, I felt my lung collapse, I couldn't breathe. \n\"He crashed his car, because you lied about his fate! You're a fraud!\" She looked me in the eyes, pain, fear and anger dominated her just as they did me, but I couldn't move. \n\n\nI listened, for that final shot.\n\n​\n\n\\-----------\n\n​\n\nKinda rushed this out, it's late but I thought this would be a neat little thing to write, have a good day/night"
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[WP] aliens come to earth. They have no intent at war yet like all intelligent life they have bean at war multiple times. What they can’t fathom though is how we humans constantly are at war with our own species.
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"“Why?” A logical question, even with a derisive tone.\n\n“Why Not?”\n\n“Surely there are not better ways? I can acknowledge conflict can, at times, be inevitable, but at this degree of magnitude?” It, for a given value of it, shook its head. And waited.\n\n“Maybe it hasn’t always been logical, what we have been fighting over, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t always done what we thought best. When faced with a charging bull your first thought is always going to be to flee, and, if you can not do that, then fight. Is this not the same for you” I leaned forward. “For you, it seems that you have always been a stable people. Your own nation is how many years old again?”\n\n“Eight thousand, of your own years of course” It looked intrigued now by what I was saying. Progress.\n\n“Well you evolved intelligence and acted intelligently, forming cities and agriculture as soon as your species could see the inherent value in doing so. You have a caste system, right?”\n\nIt squinted. “Let us say we do.”\n\n“Is it wrong?”\n\n“No, it is only logical, as it must be. From each according to their ability, to each according to their needs, as so eloquently put by a man responsible for so much violence.” Seeing my face it raised its hand, for a given value of hand to stop me. “I pass no judgement, and I doubt any can fail to recognize that his works were divisive, to put it mildly. Following your own logic, should not those disposed to their tasks be assigned those tasks?” It had regained its derisive tone. \n“However, I know that you do not, and so I can understand that you are attempting to make a point.” It lowered its hand. “Please proceed.”\n\nI cleared my throat. “Do you sort these castes biologically?”\n\nIt blinked slowly. “Of course. How else could it be done? Each sect of our population as minor differences from the rest, giving them different traits. I understand this used to be the same for you, with your, your,” It gesticulated as if looking for a word before giving up. “You know, starts with an N”\n\n“Neanderthals?”\n\n“Thank you. Yes, it is the only logical way to do it, though I understand some of your leaders have tried other ways with varying degrees of success, though I must admit that I do not understand how any of this is relevant.”\n\n“Don’t worry, this will soon make sense.” Hopefully, I added in my mind.\n\n “Regardless, the point is that you are a relatively younger, if more advanced species. You haven’t had the time yet for your species to begin to homogenize even if you have such easy access to travel. Your system works because it has had time to work. Our oldest modern parliament is barely over a thousand, with the same for currency. Our oldest dynasty is two thousand, and our oldest stone structures are barely the age of your single nation. Throughout our civilizations expansion we had to fight not only nature, but ourselves. We didn’t act logically, or rather we acted each with our own logic built upon false axioms. We fought because we didn’t have castes which could work together to produce a better whole, we had to fight others like us but fundamentally different. You never had barbarians at the gate, because there never were barbarians for you, only new subjects and new ideas.”\n\nIt nodded slowly, as if in understanding. “So you fought so much because you had irreconcilable epistemologies? That would explain certain matters of interest to my race. But,” It said suddenly, “what about your bull? Your earlier metaphor is logical only if the bull can’t be reasoned with, much unlike your people. If you could reason with the bull is it not most prudent to attempt to do so rather than attempting your previous solutions? Can you truly place your own species, your own kind, on the same level as animals and rampaging beasts?” It for the first time seemed confused.\n\nI spread my arms to my sides in a placating gesture. “I never claimed anything we did was exactly logical, far from it, I only said that we did what we thought we had to do, even if it meant treating our own kind as animals.” The alien looked down, for a given value of looked.\n\n“At the very least, that is logical. Though I must admit this conversation has been equally enlightening and disappointing, I cannot call it a waste.” It stood up. “Perhaps you may one day learn to reason with a bull.” It sounded weary\n\n“So it’s still a no then?” This wasn’t good.\n\n“Indeed, though your arguments were most persuasive, though still insufficient.” It turned to leave and began to exit the room. “We shall see you again in another fifty years to re-evaluate.”\n\nThe door clicked closed behind it, And once again we were left alone.\n"
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[WP] You are immortal and possess the ability to influence forces of nature. You’ve spent eternity living amongst people and used your powers to keep humans from overpopulating (The biblical flood, the black plague, or starting wars). It is 2018 and you decide it’s time to take action again.
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"\"It's an art you know\" \n\nIt might sound ridiculous but I'm glad I got the last word. Barely slipping through the closing door, these words snapped onto his coat. Don't be fooled, this wasen't the result of uncontrolled frustration. This was a eloquent jab, timed to a closing door so any chance of a response was cut off.\n\nMost people find excitement teetering on the edge of risk and I'm no different. Im still a man after all!\n\nSo I spend my Saturdays, telling drunks at the local bar big secret. Who I am! What I do! How many I've killed! Discreetly of course. But I specify just enough. Just enough for them to maybe, if they fully concentrated, and, just maybe, piece together my profession.\n\nAnd of course, they never did. Do I secretly wish they would understand? That they would uncover the truth?\n\nLike I said. I am a thrill seeker, and I find excitement on the edge of risk. I am a man after all!\n\nAnd the mist of my boastful babbling, I'm sure the bartender views me as one of the drunks hobbling home in 4:am on a Saturday night.\n\nWhat does it matter? I got the last word!\n\n\n But you are not here to educate youself about by verbal victories. You want to know about my next project. You want to be the first to know!\n\nIs I stated before I am an artist.\n\nAnd war isnt art. \nWar is cruel and \nUgly.\nAlso\nWar is messy and you know, over used.\n\nIve evolved as a person and grown out of my shell of comedic and ironic activites\n\n\nNO MORE!\n\nNo!\n\nI have taken the position of an artist and so my next project will be\n\nPoetic!\nOh yes!\n\nRobots taking destroying their creators?\nHuman greed ruining their own planet, their home?\n\nSomething like that\nYeah.\n\nSomething...poetic \n\n\nWell you better go\n\nI have to begin my work soon...\n\nPlease refrain from any more questions\n\nNo need to dig deeper. \n\nNo need. No need...\n\n\n\n\nThe news will find you. You'll hear about it when it happens...\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] An alien empire has come to invade the Earth. There's only one problem, they started with Afghanistan.
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"\"IF THIS ISN'T A GOOD ENOUGH REASON TO NUKE THE ENTIRE MIDDLE EAST TO SHIT I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS!\" \nThe elderly general screamed louder than I'd ever heard him do before. His face more crimson than the red button in front of every single UN representative. His eyes bulged so much they almost popped out of his skull like confetti. After his speach the large room was filled in screaming and shouting. Some agreed to his proposal immediately, while others worried about how this would affect civillians. The aliens invaded one year ago. Their information about human society was based on reports from thousands of years ago, which was why they attacked Afghanistan first. Every war had stopped. The Afghanistanian army was wiped out in a matter of days, but with the help of neighbouring nations they had damaged much of the alien fleet.\n\nThree months in and the first aliens were defeated, but most of the Middle East had turned into a mad wasteland. People were fighting each other using alien weaponry and when the dust had settled, millions were dead. It had only taken a few more days until the next fleet arrived. The aliens settled amongst the wreckage of their previous attack and built a massive fortress.\n\nI had hoped that being human would forge powerful alliances, but it only made it worse. The Soviet union had risen once more, and were fighting a war against China and India. China had invaded the eastern coast of Africa, while Nato had taken the west. The EU had disbanded and the larger countries waged war against Greece, which to this day is still in crippling debt. The country once known as Turkey could now fit into the town of Istanbul, where every day was spent fending off aliens and scavengers.\n\nOne year ago we could have united against the common enemy, but instead we are fighting over the last scraps of wealth. I guess if you want to know, the nukes were launched. And the aliens killed, spiralling us into a nuclear winter. If anyone ever find these notes, please don't make the same mistake we did. Hidden somewhere nearby is the button rigged to launch the last of the nukes and missiles left. If you are a decent person you will destroy it or leave it be.\n\n",
"We were down to four - Eastley, Thompson, Patel and me - when we hooked\nup with the Mujahadin cell out of Kandahar. It was weird; for a year or\nso, we'd been hitting their bases - since Contact we were all in it\ntogether. We were human; suddenly that was all that mattered.\n\nIshabn was talking again. I waited for Eastley's translation - the guy\nspoke six Middle Eastern languages, and was the only one who could talk\nto these people in their own weird dialect - but I knew it was something\nmajor from the way they were acting. I wasn't disappointed.\n\n\"It's big, sir. The Mujahadin have got word out of their sources at\nBirdjand - one of the Dog bigwigs is paying a visit.\" Already the locals\nwere packing their gear; I waved Thompson over to ours as Eastley\ncontinued. \"Word out of Kuh-e-Hasaran is that we should draw the\nperimeter defenses away from the West.\"\n\nI pondered a moment. There was no question we'd go along - we were SAS,\nand though it might have seemed strange six months ago to be taking\norders from a terrorist organisation, we had to adapt. At least we didn't\nhave to work with the INLA. \n\nNo, the problem was that it didn't make sense. Where would an attack on\nBirdjand come from, if not us? To the West of it, there was nothing but\ndesert and Dog patrols. We were all there was, the only armed resistance\nfor five hundred miles in any direction. There were no national armies\nany more, not since Contact+5 - the Dogs had been thorough. So it'd have\nto be one of the terrorist groups that were still operating, but there\nwas nothing out there. We were all there was.\n\nStill, at least the Mujahadin still had a command structure. We hadn't\nheard anything official from the UK since Contact+2. The locals passed\non what they could - ham radio operators still talked, albeit briefly and\nfrom different locations each night - but if there was any organisation\nleft at home, it didn't have any thought to spare for us. We did what we\ncould.\n\nIt took us 36 hours to reach Birdjand, by jeep and then camel when we ran\nout of petrol. I still had my doubts, but I kept up a good show in front\nof our allies. According to Ishabn, we had an hour to kill before we put\non our show. Ten minutes into the agonising wait that precedes every\nmajor op, a Dog shuttle touched down at their base - at least that much\nhad panned out. A small part of me began to hope that the Sword of Allah\nactually knew what it was doing.\n\nFifty minutes, and things started to shake. The Mujahadin got their shit\ntogether, and we tooled up and moved with them. The Shuttle was hit by a\nStinger from the far ridge - Ishabn hadn't mentioned that. As I'd had it \ntranslated, we were supposed to hit a lightly defended quarter of the \nperimeter \"with much seriousness\", which I took to mean \"as real as we \ncan make it\". We gave it a shot.\n\nSince the plan called for drawing off the Dog defenses, I'd say we were\ndoing pretty well - as soon as we hit the first bunker, they went\nberzerk. Ordnance that had been pounding the ridgeline into dust was \nhastily brought to bear on us. I was still worried that we'd lose men to \nno purpose, especially when they opened up on us with the Air Defense. I \nsaw Ishabn vaporise, as one of their plasma rounds took him right in the \ntorso. We lost Patel, too, and I was beginning to think it was time to \nyomp and cut our losses when It Happened.\n\nThompson grabbed my arm and swung me round to the East as I was screaning\nat our allies to move up. It took me a moment to figure out what it was,\nas I hadn't seen anything Human in the air since Contact+2. Four jets\nstreaked overhead and laid into the base as I gaped and the Mujahadin\ncheered. Training came to the fore and I tagged the jets as, impossibly,\nFrench-built Mirages. One of them vaporised as a pseudo-fusion pulse passed\nright through it, but the other three made it in. Both Thompsom and Eastley \nwere screaming at me as the main hall bulged and exploded outwards, the jets \nloosing everything they had at the installation. From a grinning Afghan and \na barely contained Eastley I discovered that the Israelis had somehow \nsalvaged a portion of their air force and launched the strike from the Golan\nHeights, staging through a tiny, private airstrip outside Esfahan. As the\nbase burned, and the three surviving jets barrel-rolled overhead on their \nway back East, I joined the mujahadin in firing my rifle at the heavens.\n\nSurvival of the Species makes strange bedfellows. I began to believe We\nmight eventually win this one after all."
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[WP] Whenever you’re hitting against a deadline at work, the last 12 hours before the deadline repeats until you get the job done.
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"I look at the clock again has another game of solitaire end, 10 past 10pm, 20 more minutes and another jump will happen.\n It's really enjoyable, to me at least, that the boss likes to review all the work that we do before the editing day, if I'd have to deliver it on the morning I wouldn't see the sun light that many times.\nHas I lay down on the couch, thoughts about how enjoying a day on the beach would be great start to grow on my mind, to bad it rained a lot so that won't do.\nHow many times was it already? 23, 25? Not quite sure, I've stopped to count the jumps for each work a lot of time ago, there's no way, beside mental notes, to record it, and after some time it stopped making sense to try.\nI believe that my life has been at least doubled by now, if not triplicate, just the jumps that I used to read all the books on the local library, should be more that 10 years worth, why did I do it? Well ask yourself this question (2 in fact), why not? If you had all the time that you wanted to your disposition what's preventing you to do so? \nJust like last summer when I arrived at the airport at 8am, at that time the deadline was at 9pm, so I took breakfast on the bar and at 9.05am was buying a ticket to the next plane, ended up seeing more things and places on this world that most of people before the end of the day, hell I even got to speak with some monk's on Himalayas and the shaman's of the deep jungle of Amazonia, the last ones gave me some tea that made go there for 6 or 7 straight jumps.\nBut right now it's starting to get boring, well I had just finished 3 hours of solitaire because I've run out of things that I wanted to do.\nLooking to the clock again, 20 past 10, 10 more minutes, God I'm so bored, almost anything that could had come to my mind, I've done, except for killing, even if after the jump people are alive again it's not a thing that enjoy me, but I did get some money thanks to the jumps, it's easy, just remembering the scores of 2 or 3 games and next jump betting on them, ending the work and done, is enough to get more that what I win at the office in a month, but I need the work anyway or the jumps stop.\nEnded up turning the TV on in the last minutes and started to do a little zap, someone doing a parachute drop, a resort on a tropical island, some surfers on big waves, a guy swimming with sharks, boxing, by that time I stopped zaping and go back some channels, and then it hit me, how didn't it got to me before? This time it will be really a new and exciting experience.\nHas soon has the idea take form in my mind the jump happened, has if it's telling me it's the perfect plan so I grab my phone and search for the nearest place to skydiving, give them a call and make all the arrangements to do it later that day, what a joy, a new stuff to do.\nHas soon has I arrived at the meeting place and get up the plane the instructor, if I can name it that, was a little confused, but I didn't care, all that was on my mind was the next minutes of adrenaline, we shake hands and he seems to try to make small talk but I don't even listen while saying ' let's get going? ', he laughs at my excitement and gets on the plane, in there he starts to explain that we would be jumping strapped together on 22000 feet like I asked that it would take around 2 min and that he would open the parachute so I should only enjoy the moment (all of that was already of my knowledge by that time since that's precisely what I looked for), when we get to the desired altitude the instructor starts to open the door, looking down my fellings pass from excitement, fear and admiration over and over like they are part of a lottery rollete, has I hear him saying 'Ok, let's get ready.' the alarm on my clock goes off, ' Ho, don't worry. I'm ready. ', and before he can hock me up with to him with the belt I just jump, looking at his horrified, pale face, I feel myself falling faster and faster, adrenaline going to my brain and taking over all of the rest of my emotions, seeing what's bellow me it's a shame that's so dark rigth now but I can see the city ligths far away, and it seems like there is two sky's so it's kind of unique too, I keep falling faster and faster want to laugh but it's not possible with the wind pressure on my lungs, but I don't care, when I close my eyes to feel all that's passing through my body the wind stops, I open my eyes again 10:30am again and the breakfast is on the table, what a shame, the 2 minutes have ended, ho well just need to keep doing it until it gets boring like the rest of stuff, so, reaching for the phone I give them a call again 'Hi, I would like to make a reservation to skydive at 10:30pm, money it's not a problem so I would like to be at least at 26000 feet' while set my alarm to 10:28, getting a little higher this time will make me have more time on the air, well at least I'll be entertained during the next month at least, I mean day."
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[WP] You're part of an Antarctic research team. While you are down on the southernmost continent, World War Three breaks out, and the nukes get launched. You lose contact with home, and as far as you know the only humans left alive are the different countries' research teams in Antarctica.
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"10 Years Ago, in the year 2039, Me and a bunch of Scientists were sent to Antarctica. All they told us was to investigate this Area in the Middle of Antarctica. They gave us a blurry photo of what appears to be a creature... frozen in place. \n\nIt looked kind of like a Velociraptor with green scales and feathers. When I saw that picture I knew that this must be special. \n\nWe arrived in Antarctica by boat. Escorted by armoured soldiers, highly trained too. When we got there we were taken into a facility of some sort. They lead us to the Center of the facility when we saw the shocking discover. \n\nIt was the dinosaur in the Picture encased in Ice. It was a large slab of Ice that could cover up a room. The Eyes of the Dinosaur was still moving. It was alive. \n\nFamous Doctor Rushmore appeared out of nowhere and explained what were doing. A Decade Ago, A group of Explorers came to found a large deposits of Dinosaur Corpses. \n\nThe thing was that half of them were all still, alive. We're all here for one thing. That's to discover how are they still alive and study about their anatomy. \n\nA Scientist asked the Doctor why was this Top secret in the first place. Rushmore just looked right into his eyes and said \"Antarctica, It's Melting... what would happen. If all of those creatures were to escape?\"\n\nHe grabs a folder under his desk and throws it to the table. Pictures spilled out of the photograph and we looked in horror at the size of the frozen crocodile. \n\nIt was a big green mother with scales like that of obsidian. Rushmore was standing there and in comparison looked like a speck of dust. It was as if it was an Island. \n\n\"What happens if... The Ice Melted? What Happens if It escaped? What Happens If we were to Expose this to the Media? What would they do? We're not here to learn about those creatues but here to cover it up! Understand!?!\"\n\nAlthough it was all nonsense. We kept our mouths shut...\n\n\n\nBased on a dream I Got. Part 2 coming tomorrow ok...\n"
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[WP] Sugar has becomed illegal yesterday and it's treated like cocaine by the police. You own a candy factory.
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"It was only a matter of time. Someone tipped us off that someone tipped the ATF off that we had stores of candy in reserve. If we didn’t escape soon, we’d have to Waco this out.\n\nIt all started at the beginning of the year. Inspired by Michelle Obama, a group of women formed the Organization of Health Conscious Americans (OHCA), a lobbyist group to promote healthy eating. It seemed harmless at the time, just another lobbyist group but no one could have predicted the sweeping changes that would come in the coming months.\n\nIt was genius, to be honest. They were vocal. Movements in major cities lead to major protests. Those protests lead to deadly riots in state capitals. 5 dead one week, 7 the next. OHCA vigilantes outside of your local 7-11 and Wawa, beating candy buyers. Our sales took a hit, our stock collapsed, and our investors left us to die. It came to a point where our own workers were scrubbing any evidence they worked for us.\n\nFinally, Washington had enough. Drafted by OHCA-sympathetic representatives, the Wilson-Kearny Sugar Act passed with a unanimous vote. \n\n\nI had prepared for this day for a while now, I wasn’t naive, I knew it was over. Trucks were acquired and our candy stock was loaded, ready to leave at the drop of the hat. The destination? A group of candy safe houses, with the ultimate goal of Canada. Everything is allowed in Canada.\n\nAs I watched the last truck leave through the gates, I turned to face the factory that I had built with my own hands. Years in the making, days to destroy. \n\nHours passed when finally they came. I could hear the noises outside of the metal gates.\n\nI took my last walkthrough of the floor.\n\n“Charge set, step back!”\n\nA look around.\n\n“A really big (expletive) hole coming up!”\n\nA final inspection of the machinery.\n\nBoom.\n\n(My first WP! Feedback is appreciated! Written on mobile. If it shows, sorry about that!)\n\n"
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[WP] When walking home late at night, a terrified man stumbles into you and slips a strange purple stone into your pocket, begging you to hide it. Soon after you get home, you hear a knock at the door. In your head you hear "Don't open that door or we are both dead."
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"(WP) The Violet Stone and the Mysterious Man\n\nThe cool night air brushed his cheeks as he strolled home, hood hiding his face and snow crunching under his boots, still lightheaded after indulging in his cups a little bit too much.\n\nHis feet carried him toward home, but he was abruptly startled by a hand in his pocket. Was he being robbed? Pickpocketed? But much to his surprise, as quickly as he felt the touch, it was gone, replaced by a heavy weight in his pocket. Paranoid and jumpy from drink, the man slipped inside his house, closing the door behind him with a sound thud.\n\nHis wife was sitting in a chair next to a merrily crackling fire, one of the children asleep on her chest, humming a dreamy tune. At her husband’s arrival, she looked up, eyes reproachful.\n\n“Please don’t wake the baby, Elijah,” She mouthed, shaking her head, then she went back to humming, stroking their son’s hair.\n\nTiptoeing past his family, he went down the hall from the living room and peeked in on their daughter, who was fast asleep, a book lying open on her sheets. Elijah smiled, his heart warming; days at the tannery were hard and made him filthy, but coming home to this, to his wife Rhea, and his children, were what made it all worth it.\n\nBreaking his back was a small price to pay for supporting his family as best he could.\n\nElijah was startled out of his thoughts by a sharp knock at the door; Rhea, who was putting Jael to bed, looked up, a question in her eyes. He waved her down the hallway and walked to the door, making sure to close the door to Megara’s room before he did so.\n\nAs he approached the door, a quiet male voice sounded, seemingly from inside his own head, halting him in his tracks.\n\n*Don’t open that door, or we are both dead, Elijah. Heed my words.*\n\nThere was a rush of warmth from his pocket, and his hand moved of its own accord. His fingers closed around the stone, and he pulled it out, looking at it for the first time. It was a large purple stone the size of his closed fist, with a dusting of pink quartz around the edges, and its heart glowed a dark magenta, throwing bright lights on the walls when he opened his fingers.\n\nHe found himself wondering if the voice came, from all places, the stone. Maybe he’d had just a bit too much to drink. Everyone knew that stones couldn’t talk, even he, with what little schooling he’d received before adulthood. But he couldn’t ignore the urgency in the voice, whatever its source.\n\nThe knock came once more, louder and more insistent.\n\n“Elijah? What is going on?” Rhea demanded in a whisper, her eyes darting between him and the door. \n\n“What do you have there?” She stepped toward him, eyes narrowed and hands outstretched.\n\n“I don’t know, Rhea,” He whispered in return, and he supposed she must have seen the sincerity of his words in his eyes, because she stopped short, looking at the door.\n\n*Elijah, trust me. Do not open that door. Or it will be the death of us all. You must take your family and run.*\n\nElijah found that despite his speculation, he could not doubt the voice’s words. But he didn’t dare answer aloud; this was already pure madness, and he didn’t really need to be locked up in the village asylum on top of everything else.\n\n“We have to leave,” He said quietly, in a voice softer than a whisper. “Get Jael and Meg and pack what you can. I just… I have a really bad feeling about this.”\n\n“What about the person at the door?” She hissed back, alarmed, and he shook his head.\n\n“We can’t answer it. Or we’ll die.”\n\n\\*\\*\n\nElijah, Rhea, Megara, and Jael slipped out of their little stone house, out the back door, all of them crowded on a strong, young warhorse, the stone safely stowed away in Elijah’s pocket, the mysterious voice sighing in relief in his head.\n\nThe last sound they heard before they departed the village was a high, keening scream of rage and frustration, and the trees in the forest swallowed them up.\n\n\\*\\*",
"**The Ark Stone**\n___\n\n *“Hey, Janson – you aren’t sleeping on the job again, are you?”* \n\n\nNo response.\n\n*“Janson! Wake up!”*\n\nAt first there was a muffled tapping noise from outside my office, which quickly became more pronounced as I lifted my head to see my boss now waving at me through the glass.\n\n*“Shit. How long was I out?”* I muttered as I rapidly blinked my eyes. I lifted my left wrist to eye level and my watch face lit up, *‘7:20pm?’ … ‘Man, I’m in deep this time.’* I thought, swiping the clock display off with my right hand and again looking upwards to see my boss, still standing outside my office. Deciding it was better to face the music than allow my boss to get even angrier, I moved to the office door, straightening my tie as I went. Opening the door, I braced for what I expected was going to be a loud and very public conversation about my work habits. \n\n\n*“Yes, Sir?”* I inquired, hoping my respectful tone would save my ass (again). \n\n*“Eric, it’s 7PM on a Friday. Why are you still here?”*\n\n*“Well, you see…”* He cuts me off. \n\n*“Never mind, just…”* He paused. *“Go home, and don’t let me catch you sleeping again at work, alright?”*\n\nI let out a short, self-pitied sigh and whimpered, *“Yes Sir, won’t happen again.”*\n\n---\n\n I half shut the door and retrieved my belongings, performing the ever so famous – wallet, keys, & phone check on my way out. Satisfied that I had my most three prized possessions, I stepped out the lobby doors making sure to give my watch one last quick glance, just for the hell of it. *‘Shit – 7:30!’* The last train came at quarter to and I was a solid ten-minute walk from the station – it was going to be close.\n\n\nRunning to the station was always a mixed set of emotions. On one side, the work day was over – awesome! The other, well… who likes running in a full suit? ‘Not this guy.’ I thought as I shimmied my way past person after person. With the station in sight, I glanced at my watch and saw I was making solid time, I could slow down and walk the last leg. As I slowed my stride, a man doing twice my pace smacked into me, almost knocking me off my feet. I managed to stabilize myself and grasp onto the man to prevent him from falling also.\n\n\n*“Watch it asshole!”* I yelled, as was customary for unwanted sidewalk interactions, let alone whatever this kerfuffle was about to turn into. \n\n*“Please!”* He whispered, a shocked and frantic look in his eye. *“Take the stone. It’s vital that they must not find it.”* \n\nHis gaze piercing, he reached into his right jacket pocket and pulled out a small glowing rock. He thrust it into my palm and placed his hands around mine.\n\n*“If they find it, we are all as good as dead.”* He stuttered, almost choking over his words. \n\nI had barely the time to comprehend what had happened before the man was gone, a shadow in the night. I looked down at my hand, still, palm up where I had left it just moments ago. A strange stone laid upon it, tinges of purple and gold swirled through it, out of it and then back into it. ‘Huh, I really must be tired.’ I thought, chuckling to myself. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but I rationalized the interaction as nothing more than some homeless guy off his meds and a painted rock he probably stole. With one final shake of my head, I put the stone in my pocket and hopped on my train.\n\n---\n\n\n It wasn’t long until I was home. It had started raining on the ride back and watching the droplets fall on the carriage window served as ample entertainment to occupy my mind during the commute, at least enough to distract me from further inspecting the stone. After walking into my kitchen, I slide my keys, phone, and wallet onto the counter.\n\n\n*“Alexa, play my ‘Weekend Jams’ playlist!”* I yelled, the small black sphere in the corner of the room lit up and acknowledged my request. Morning Glory by Oasis started playing. I bobbed my head a few times as I unwrapped a protein bar and scoffed it down. I was only a few seconds into the chorus when I heard a knocking at my door. Alexa gave off a small glow and hummed to alert me that there was, indeed, someone at the door.\n\n\n*“Alexa, pause.”* I mumbled as I walked towards the front door, unsure of who would possibly be coming to visit at 9 PM on a Friday. Alexa went back to being lifeless and the music cut off, just as requested. Another few steps and I reached for the doorknob, hearing a woman’s voice whisper in my ear, *“Open that door and we both die.”*\n\nI froze. \n\n*“Excuse me?”* I said. *“Who the hell is in my house? Show yourself!”*\n\n*“Quiet. They are listening.”* It responded.\n\n*“This isn’t funny, show yourself.”*\n\n*“I’m in your jacket, stupid. It’s me, the stone.”* It once again responded this time sarcastically.\n\nUnfreezing, I slowly took my right arm and pulled the stone out from my jacket. The purple and gold tinges from before now swirled brightly, each time it spoke it flared and specks of orange would emanate from the stone’s center.\n\n*“Look, if you want to live, you are going to have to trust me”.*\n\n*“Oh yeah, trust a rock”* I replied, half sarcastic and half terrified. \n\n*“I’m not a rock”* It chirped back. *“I can explain later but right now we need to leave. They found you.”*\n\n*“Who found me?”*, *“Why can’t they find me... or you?”* *“Explain yourself.”* I clamored, all three statements almost simultaneously.\n\n*“No time. Put me in your jacket pocket and stop talking out loud – I can communicate sub-neurologically with you. We are linked, you and I.”*\n\nAnd I thought the homeless guy had lost his marbles.\n\n---\n\nLooking through the peephole I made out the shape of two figures, both clad from head to toe in black. \n\n‘Probably suits, maybe feds?’ I thought to myself. \n\n*“Not feds.”* The stone interrupted.\n\n*“Stop doing that.”*\n\n*“Doing what?”*\n\n*“Listening to my thoughts, I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is happening.”*\n\n*“I’m only here to help.”* The stone replied. *“Let me help you.”*\n\n*“Fine, who are they?”*\n\nOne of the figures knocked on the door again, this time with his fist.\n\n*“The two men outside aren’t real men. Look closely at them, you will see what I mean.”*\n\nI gazed through the peephole again, peering intensely at each of the figures. Small streaks of light rippled around them, if only for a moment.\n\n*“It’s an illusion. A disguise, costume, mirage...”*\n\n*“I know what an illusion is!”* I shot back.\n\n*“Point being, they aren’t human. And they won’t knock again.”*\n\n*“So, what’s the plan?”*\n\n*“Analyzing…”* The stone replied, followed by several small chimes. *“Okay, I need you to hide under your bed”.*\n\n*“Seriously, that’s the plan? Hide under the bed?”* I asked in disbelief.\n\n*“Trust. Me.”* The stone replied.\n\n---\n[Continued here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a39gv7/wp_when_walking_home_late_at_night_a_terrified/eb511b1/) (due to character length).",
"Moments had elapsed, it seemed as though it was nothing more than a blink in time. In truth I had been standing in my long gown for at least ten minutes since the noise stopped me. My breath was caught, a knot in my throat wheezing each breath.\n\nThe sillouette was there still,, the knocking presence standing still. Their shadow casting through the frosted panels of the door which led to the outer door, the streetlight casting a large grotesque shape waiting. Surely after 10 minutes, any man or woman would have realised there was no one home, not unless... The light in my study, directly facing the street the person may have seen on their way to my house. But in my mind, I wrestled rationale. What sane person would be wandering a dusky Wednesday, searching for a strangers light in their window to flock to. No one, that's who.\n\nI envisioned someone tall, someone with featureless face. A long dark coat and a hood draped over their eyes, their breath would be thick and foul, their fingers arching towards me. I had been awake for too long sure, but I could not deny the fear of dread. The near dreamscape of the events.\n\nI backed away from the door, creeping sowly to the kitchen facing the back of the house. Even if I could not make it to the door I could make it to the knife I told myself.\n\n\"You do not want to do that either\" The voice rippled thorugh the house, it's voice clear and loud. \"They surround the house, you're best to go to your study. They cannot stand it there.\"\n\n\"Who are you?!\" I uttered. My voice gentle and breathy. That's when the door knocked again, it began slow, monotonous and tapping. A tapping that was almost as soft as the peck of a bird. A tap tap tapping of a raven taunting. It did not cease.\n\n\"You must go, NOW! There is not much time, you must get to your study before they get closer.\" The voice seemed warned, panicked.\n\n\"Before who gets closer?!\" I asked. Before I could continue, before I could heed I felt the icy hands of fear crawl from my spine, as thin and wirey as spiders legs arch over my entire flesh so cold my heart had stopped for a second. I felt the time, creeping. I knew what was waiting for me as I turned my head slowly around to the kitchen I was planning on evading to. I knew that the feeling was being harvested there, a force willing me to be afraid beyond fear. I saw into the room enough, the door was ajar and the lights all but out but it was enough to see, to hear the metalic clicking of the door handle turning. A voice followed, like a sweet death called as soft as a child's voice. It hummed playfully, growing louder.\n\n\"Who's there?\" My eyes taught against the dark in the next room, the front door forever tapping.\n\n\"YOU'RE WASTING TIME! GO!\" The voice yelled, as it roared the house the kitchen door tore from its hinges and across the kitchen smashing into the window. I did not waste time, I fled up the stairs. I reached the top and heard laughter following me with tiny playful feet mimmmicking each step I took. The tapping began now crashing, thumping in threes haunting me. I hurried like never before, my heart all but still in my chest as I fled to my study, a room open and in light waiting for me like a beacon or a haven. A light that was holding protection, safety out for me as the dark grew darker around. \n\nI ran as fast as I could, my legs so fast they caught under one another and I dropped to the ground with a heavy thud catching my tongue between my teeth filling my mouth with blood. The metallic taste making me feel sour and light.\n\nI looked at the stairs, a mass of long hair peeking around the corner roaring with laughter, it was crawling like a dog whatever it was, a contorted shape approaching me. I crawled on my belly, my hands tearing at the carpet dragging me into the study. I swung my legs into the room and slammed the door shut, the laughter ceased ina loud single thud into the door as it closed. \n\nI heard its screech as it had failed to get me.\n\n\"Get up Garret! You need to get up!\" The voice ordered. \"You must take the stone far away. You must *not* let them have it! Do you understand me?!\" \n\nAs I found my feet I looked to the lamp on the desk, a strong warm light beading down on the desk where I wrote terror. Ironic it seemed now. Instead of my Remington typewriter now lay a long barrel shotgun with a box of shells, a flashlight and the stone. \n\n\"I don't understand what I have to do.\" I uttered.\n\n\"You're a horror writer Garret. You know exactly what to fucking do.\"",
"I blinked a couple of times. I was in the middle of getting up from my couch to get the door, when I thought I heard a noise. Another knock at the door snapped me back to the situation.\n\nI got up and took a step.\n\n*\"Did you note hear me? You open the door, we both die.\"*\n\nI stood frozen in place. My eyes creeped around my apartment, trying to locate the source of the sound. Another series of raps were at the door, followed by a ring on the doorbell. I turned my head almost imperceptibly towards it.\n\n*\"Don't even think about it.\"*\n\nMy heart began drilling at my chest, begging to escape whatever was going on right now. The blood drained from my face.\n\n\"What's happening,\" I mouthed almost silently.\n\n*\"You're being raided. It's nothing to worry about, they'll pass you by so long as you don't give them reason to believe that you have the stone.\"*\n\nI swallowed hard and felt the weight in my pocket.\n\n\"But I do have the stone,\" I mouthed, feeling violated by this voice.\n\nThe knocking at the door immediately became a bashing at the door. The door cracked. Between my body's fight or flight, it opted for 'Freeze on the spot.'\n\n*\"Way to go, now we're dead for sure.\"*\n\n\"But I couldn't even hear myself say it!\" I said out loud.\n\nThe door cracked further. \n\n*\"Look, we could argue about it, and in the end you'd realize why you're wrong, but right now you want to run.\"*\n\nThe door splintered now. I heard a growl from the other end. It was a mix of rage and hunger, and its breathing quickened at having made progress on my door. I stared at it in terror. \n\n*\"Run. Now.\"*\n\nMy body was suddenly fueled by all the adrenaline it had been neglecting me and my legs pulled my body from the spot. I ran into my room and closed the door behind me and I heard my front door shatter behind me. There was a monstrous yowl and it charged at my bedroom door. \n\n*\"Great going. Another door will stop it for sure.\"*\n\n\"Shut,\" I said, my brain fueling more energy to my thoughts than my speech. My window was open but I couldn't fit more than my head out its opening. I smacked my head in frustration, trying to kickstart some form of escape. My leg felt warm, like the stone had been warming up in my pocket. I pulled it out and stared for a moment. Its deep purple offered no ideas. \n\n*\"You definitely didn't want to do that. You were definitely warned to keep me hidden.\"*\n\nSo its deep purple did offer ideas. But not any good ones. I could use it to smash the other side of my window open, then maybe I could crawl through. Before I could take a step toward it, a hole was torn into my bedroom door. A boar's head was stuck through and it breathed deeply, its deep purple eyes enraged to see me holding the stone. It reached a muscular arm in to turn my handle and I ran to the window. \n\n*\"Please don't smash me into the--\"*\n\nI hit my window with all my might and the window and wall violently shook and exploded outwards, revealing the neighborhood two stories below.\n\n\"Woah,\" I said, but my explosion was followed by the boar tearing the door of its hinges. It dove toward me and I jumped out the hole in the wall closing my eyes and holding my breath. I put my arms out below me just like I remembered being taught not to do whenever I was falling from a great height.\n\n*\"Oh, for the love of--\"*\n\nThe street below me exploded into ash and blasted me back up to the apartment building. I landed on my back on a fourth story balcony. I scrambled over to look over the edge where I saw the boar-man fall into a wide, gaping hole I opened in the street below. It squealed as it fell down the pit. I stared in horror, my adrenaline still running wild. \n\n\"What just happened?\" I asked both myself and the stone.\n\n*\"It'll be back.\"*\n\nI heard a menacing roar from below the wreckage.\n\n*\"RUN.\"*\n\n__________________________________________________________________________\n\nFor more other-wordly stories, come and check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!"
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[WP] A mutation of dysentery during pioneer times results in a massive zombie outbreak. You and your group traveling in a covered wagon are the first to realize they can be stopped by destroying the heads, you need to tell as many people as you can before the country is overrun.
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"Our caravan has been traveling for nearly five weeks now. We’ve lost quite a few people already, and not for reasons one suspects on journeys like these. We have lost people to the elements, to injuries far to infected to treat, and on one gruesome occasion a young boy was taken by a pack of coyotes. Such are the realities of traveling west, but those events are common whereas our new dilemma is rather extraordinary. \n\nIt was Mr. Forley who took ill first. His eldest son, James, took the reins while his father laid in the back of their wagon, vomiting, shivering and shaking, and on occasion defecating. Most times he would make it off the side of the wagon. Other times he lay in his own filth, drinking whatever wasn’t tainted to try and survive. His wife and his other three children took to another wagon, and prayed for their husband and father. It had been three days when the sickness finally consumed him, and James said he heard a ghastly rattle from his father as he took his final breath. Arthur P. Forley died on March 13th but was back up and moving the following morning. \n\nJust before dawn, as our night watchmen were setting up for the morning before turning in themselves, they heard something strange. It was Benjamin Koffee, a ranch-hand turned hired gun, who went to inspect the ghoulish sounds. The men say it sounded like tearing and heavy grunting. It was coming from the Forley’s tent. The family had been grieving most of the way, and we had not stopped to set up camp and so the body remained with them. We had planned to bury him later in the day. But true to form on journeys like these, plans changed very quickly, and we encountered something hellish and otherworldly. \n\nWhen Mr. Koffee reached the tent he let out a loud curse and there was a gun shot. When the others rallied to see what had happened, Arthur had already descended onto Benjamin and was...biting his face and neck. Even as he fired rounds from his pistol into Arthur’s belly, Arthur continued his assault unfettered. It took three men to drag Arthur off of Benjamin, and it took all of them to restrain him. His face was pale with traces of blue. His lips and chin were now covered in blood, and his yellow teeth were now a vile orange. Arthur’s eyes were milky white, and though he was indeed a strong man in life, his strength was more than double what it had been.\n\nJames was dead. His father must have killed him quickly in the night. Koffee was badly injured and succumbed to his wounds shortly thereafter. Arthur remained struggling in his binds and growled and snapped at us like a wild animal. His wife attempted to talk with him, but he did not respond. With her son now dead and her husband a monster, ~~Mrs.~~ Ms. Forley was near hysterical and she had every right to be. Her late husband was now back among the living, and his first task had been to attack and eat his on son. \n\nWhat followed was nothing short of pure mayhem. While we were deciding what to do with Arthur, who struggled to break free, there was a scream. When we looked to see the source I recall my blood running cold. James Forley, with his face half missing and his guts on full display protruding from his stomach, was grabbing and biting at his youngest sister. Another scream and we saw Koffee was back on his feet and was now attacking Ms. Forley. She shoved her other two children away as he attacked and their high pitched screams were followed by gunfire. \n\nI estimate the scuffle lasted nearly ten minutes. James and Koffee were riddled with bullets but neither fell until James was struck in the head. A lucky shot that proved invaluable as the information it provided became our plan of attack. Mr. Koffee, who always mused that he had a head thick as stone, actually proved much more difficult as it took three shots to his head to bring him down. Upon learning this Arthur was ceremoniously killed. Then we had to decide what to do with Ms. Forley and her youngest. Both were in bad shape. Neither of them had sustained wounds as bad as Benjamin or James, but they weren’t minor wounds either. Our camp doctor did his best at cleaning their wounds. Mostly bite marks on their arms from fending off their attackers and bruises from the fight. \n\nIt wouldn’t be till later that we discovered it would have been best to just to kill them then. The first hour was misery but mostly due to shock and throbbing pain from their wounds. As time went on they began to develop fevers, sweats, and eventually exhibited the same symptoms as Arthur, vomiting and defecating until dehydration and exhaustion took them after four hours. This time we were ready. The moment we saw their eyes open again they were put right back down. For good this time. We didn’t bury anyone this time. We dug a pit and burned them. The remaining Forley children did not attend the pyre. I think that’s for the best. \n\nWe’ve passed others on the trail, warned them of what we encountered and some of them have reported similar stories. Native tribes who had been on good, albeit tenuous, terms with travelers now avoided anyone not like them. They took now to raiding convoys, and frankly I don’t blame them. They’re scared. They want to get what they can to prepare for the worst. We’ve had friendly encounters here and there but it’s not without residence on their part. \n\nWe still have a ways to go before we reach our destination. My only hope is that we still have something to reach. Our convoy has dwindled in size and in spirit, but all we can do is move forward. \n\n-Edward Fontaine, March 22, 1846 "
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[WP] Death is a deadly epidemic that is passed down genetically from mother to child. Earth is known by other human-populated planets under a different name: ‘The Quarantine Planet’
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"I entered the building with a few uneasy steps. I was greeted by the sight of a huge hall decorated in banners with encouraging words printed in a dark purple color. Though I was not in the mood to read what, was certainly written by people, who had never experienced the anything even remotely comparable to what was waiting in my future, there bombastic appearance, calling out like a child wanting attention, made it impossible not to notice them. \n“We bid you farewell and a safe journey to a new life!”\n“Our technology will bring you safely to earth”\n “Salutations! Have a nice and comfortable journey”\n“Today is the beginning of the rest of your life”\nThe last one evoked a sick feeling in my stomach, that word just did not sit right with me still. Life. They were really trying to make us feel good leaving the comfort of our home.\n\nThe planet of Cicara had been my home up until now. Unlike most people I had not feared the death scan, as there had been no cases of mortality discovered in my family. I remember laughing at my friends who would not stop talking about their fear of a positive test. I guess that makes my situation a rather ironic one. My test found me mortal, and so I find myself here today, leaving Cicara for Earth.\n\nAt first I was terrified, Earth was a place you had only heard about in stories from the older kids in school when they tried to scare you, or from an uncle at a family event who had been pouring form the whisky bottle a little too much. Suddenly the stories that sounded like fantasy had become all too real.\n\nHere I was in the welcome hall of a place that forced you to say goodbye to everything that you ever knew. People were moaning and arguing with the staff, all while standing in neatly formed lines leading to different rooms. Each room had a sign above them indicating their function in the process of departure from Cicara. A rather rusty voice took me out of my own head and back to the nightmare that was this day.\n“I’m sorry, but can I see your papers, sir?”\nOne of the staff member, dressed in a neat suit in the same dreadful dark purple as the banners, had approached me, presumably to flow moving. Before I answered I could not help but feel pity for them, all the staff actually. What an unforgiving job, having to guide people through a process no one wanted to be a part of. I decided to hold back the harsh word that were about to come out of my mouth, as I acknowledge these people had nothing to do with my fate, and were only trying to do their job.\n“Yes of course, just give me a second, and let me get them from my backpack.”\nIn one swift motion I pulled my backpack off and found the papers that I had considered burning ever since they had arrived in the mail.\n“Aha, your papers tells me that you are assigned to group B, which means that you are going to start over there.”\nThe staff member handed my papers back to me, and with a friendly smile, pointed me towards a line at the far end of the room, that culminated at a small opening in the wall with a sign above unsurprisingly reading “Group B”. \n\nI resentfully took my place in the back of the line, which was moving forward at an impressive pace. The answer to the rather rapid moving line was to be found on the other side of opening in the wall. An enormous space presented itself, and it had been filled to the brim with small tables made from steel, which reflected the few sunrays that entered through the sparingly placed windows. As I entered I was immediately guided towards a free table. On the cold metallic surface of the table was a soft skin colored mask, and a little note beneath it saying “Face Your New Existence”. Confused as to what I had to do, I looked up and tried to observe what other people were doing at their tables. Most people were standing neatly at their table presumably following instructions, but a few people were resisting, but the staff members were quick to subdue them and drag them away. Seeing people getting dragged away like that, killed every rebellious thought I might have had in that moment. \n\nWith one final deep breath I turned the mask around, unnerved to see a fully fleshed out face, completely unrecognizable to me. Its features were very exaggerated, with puffy cheeks, and big eyes. The skin was smooth, and it looked like nothing I had ever seen before. To be honest I was drawn to the mask, it was cute and the reluctants I had from putting the mask on before, vanished. As the inside of the mask touched my skin, it immediately started to lose the feeling in my face, and instead it started to feel like my hands that was on the outside of the maske were touching my face. As the mask consumed my face I instantly felt smaller and the thoughts I had just before became more abstract and incomprehensible. My words left me and after a few moments I opened my eyes, and found myself in a bright room with many faded colors moving around. I felt like calling for help, but my words failed me, all the sound I was able to muster were cries of horror. \n"
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[WP] Your whole life, you've been told that your life only ends when your job is done. Your job is to protect the Ruler of your country, whom you admire greatly, until the peace accords end. There was an attempt to kidnap the ruler, but you fought it off, despite being shot fatally multiple times.
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"My world fell apart the holes that riddled my steel plate armor finally wrenched me from my bloodlust. The outer garden that I watched over as the young master frolicked was a graveyard. The great fountain that stood in the center snapped the blood from the dead and spouted the red mist into the air.\n\nMany of the lads I had trained with from my youth lied lifeless among the corpses of our foes. Each clutching gaping holes that ripped apart the empires finest in mere seconds. I gripped the length of my polearm and lowered myself to one of the squirming squires. \n\nHis helmet plate helmet caved in just below the jaw and spouted blood across the cobble path. He gripped the gap in my plate and thrust his knife handle first into my hand. I studied the knife for a moment the long jagged edges dug into my palm and my soul . \n\n\"*aye lad you honor your ancestors like you wanted *\"\n\nI flipped the blade in my hand and drove it into the side of his helmet. Crimson spilled out of the newly opened hole and cracks in the stone. The squirming stopped as soon as the blade reached its hilt a few inches in.\n\n\"*rest now you glorious bastard*\" \n\nThe world started to close the edges of reality began to dim. I watched the last few months flash past in a blur of trepidation and sadness. The giant stone walls of poytu and the broken imperial citizens that lined the streets. To the final moments of the Orc's last stronghold and their resulting assimilation into the empire.\n\nAye it had been the same bastards that now tainted this garden with their blood. It was upon when the king was having his victory feast when they slit the gate guards throats and cut off their ears. We only just managed to stop them when their weapons stopped spitting flame. \n\nWe stopped them but it had cost us family's that had ruled these lands for thousands of years were cut down to their last. Only with their sacrifice had we stemmed the green tide that broke upon our shields. \n\n*Aye but it seems my time is here*\n\nI felt my legs give out and crumple forward into the gore of the slaughter. I felt the hand on my shoulder and managed to turn once more to look upon my lord. His eyes ran a deep silver rimmed in tears meeting his long angular features. \n\n\"*My Legie Will You Do An Old Warrior A Favor *\"\n\nI looked at him his eyes grew wide in fear and sorrow. His voice left it's normal rational and calculating tone behind and broke under this pressure. \n\n\"*I would be more than Willing*\" \n\nI flipped up the left strap of my paldrun and dug under the crimson lining of my Cape. I felt the long thin jagged edge of the blade and pulled against the weak strings binding it in place.\n\n*Crack* \n\nThe blade weighed down my hand its silvery edge observing the moonlight. I flipped the handle away from my person and held it out to the young lord. Age old words dredded as the night left my mouth and blighted the air around us. The words that each and every recruit were taught since the day they swore fealty to the royal family.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n\"*Long Live The Elven King*\" \n\n\n\n\n\n",
"I stood over my Tzar, blood still dripping from my sword as I stood unsteady in that red wasteland. They had all come to take my lord away and all they got was a quick and brutal death. I had trained for twenty years training with sword and pistol, then spent another twenty in service for this exact moment. My life had meaning to it finally at the end, I had given it freely to protect a great man and brought honour to my family.\n\nI was only a child when they offered me to the service, my parents couldn't feed me so a life of duty was my only future. I lost my name and my life was then bound to his defence, there would be no monument or honour payed to me when my body went cold, I was expendable, he was not so my life was worthless something to be given not treasured.\n\nThe attackers didn't give a name or reason, they might have been organised or just saw an opportunity but it didn't matter in the end they laid dead and I would soon join them. The whole thing was pointless, they were ill prepared,too slow and stupid, thrusting rusty swords at a sworn brother of the martian guard and expecting to steal our Tzar away. I had not been quick enough either when the moment came one of the bastards struck me under my breastplate and another unloaded his pistol into me the blood flowed like a torrent from under my red robe.\n\nMy duty wasn't over yet though, I still stood guard and would until the last drop of blood left me. they all had lied to me dieing didn't hurt, it was so calm, my body was numb apart from the cold iron of my sword grasped in my fist, I could still fight off a thousand attackers.\n\nThankfully my last watch wasn't going to be ended with my death, soon two brothers came charging towards us and scooped the tsar off to safety. They left me standing here though without even a glance towards my broken body, they knew it was pointless to try and save me, I would die on mars, so far away from home. The martian guard die with honour,were we stand so I fell to one knee with my sword propping me up and pulled the dagger from my chest slowly, I then rammed it into my eye. I died in battle like my destiny and honour needed me too, defending a man who never would know my name."
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[WP] you are the world's most famous magician, and the world wants to know your secret. Only problem is that you are also unsure on how your tricks work.
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"The stage is empty, and the crowd waits with bated breath. An empty stage holds in it the promise that it will soon be filled. Seconds tick by into minutes and there is the absolute silence that only comes with true wonder.\n\nA bright light on stage, a smattering of confetti.\n\nAnd, from the back of the theatre, a booming voice. “Are you looking for me?”\n\nThe audience turns, a rush of clothes shifting and heads turning sweeping through the room. The magician is standing on the topmost balcony: he looks down at his audience with his arms open wide and a grin on his face as the cameras zoom in to capture the magic.\n\nAfter the show, there are the familiar questions. How did you do it? What tricks did you use? Why has no one ever been able to solve your tricks? \n\nHe waves them away and retires to his dressing room. There, he is no longer the magician. That man is left at the threshold. Instead he becomes Dan. When he was a child, he used to wave his arms dramatically and stand on a box and call himself Dan-Bam the Magic Man. Now they call him magic’s second coming, the return of the golden age of true illusion. The side of the theatre glows with his new name: Diegol. Charlotte tells him it’s Old English for a secret. It seemed a good idea five years ago, before he found fame and found that people remember him by his new name instead of good old Dan.\n\nHe takes off his hat. A wizard has to have a hat, Charlotte says. His is more of a beanie than a wizard’s hat, but then he has an image to protect. The modern day magic man.\n\nCharlotte likes the idea of a modern day magic man. She never asks him how he does his tricks. She’s the only one who never has.\n\nThat’s why he likes her company. It’s much easier to forget the worrying sensation that he no longer knows how any of his tricks work when he doesn’t have to talk about it.\n\nThere’s a polite knock at the door. Charlotte is there, smiling her pretty, unthreatening smile. She has a way of calming him down after a show. “Hi Dan. You were magnificent, as always.” \n\n“Thanks Charlie.” \n\n“There’s a couple of reporters who want to talk to you.” She glances over her shoulder to an unseen audience. When she looks back at him, her smile is a tad strained. “Apparently Todd told them you were up for a chat.”\n\n“Of course he did.” Todd is his agent. Todd likes interviews. Dan runs a hand over his face; when he drops it away he’s plastered on a smile. “Well, better show them in then.”\n\nCharlotte steps inside and ushers in a young man and an older woman, one armed with pen and paper, the other armed with dictaphone. Dan keeps his smile firmly in place as Charlotte closes the door. He’s glad she’s staying. Interviews are hard enough without feeling outnumbered.\n\n“Diegol, the show was amazing, thank you so much for seeing us,” the man gushes, coming forward to grasp Dan’s hand.\n\n“Thank you. Uh...”\n\n“Jake, it’s Jake Markham, I run a blog, it’s all about magic and the modern practice of it and -”\n\n“And I am Elizabeth Granger. I work for a reputable paper.”\n\n“Ah.” Dan looks from one to the other. “So you’re not together then?”\n\nThe woman - Elizabeth - purses her lips. Charlotte is smiling behind her and Dan has to avoid catching her eye to stop himself laughing at the reporter’s obvious discomfort. \n\n“Why don’t you both grab a chair,” he says, gesturing to the seats scattered around his dressing room. “And then maybe we can get started.”\n\n“I’ve only really got one question, Mr Diegol.” Elizabeth stays standing at Jake grabs a chair. There’s something formidable about this woman and how straight she stands. No one naturally stands that straight, Dan thinks. Years of practice has gone into that. “How do you respond to the claims that the reason no one can solve your tricks is because you cheat?”\n\n“Excuse me?” Dan glances to Charlotte, whose mouth has fallen open. He tries a smile. “Ms Granger, all tricks are cheats I’m afraid. That’s how magic works.”\n\n“Yes, I’m familiar, misdirection and illusion and the art of deception. But people are saying the reason no one can figure out your tricks is because you aren’t using any of these. You are, in fact, cheating.” \n\n“That’s insane,” Jake blurts out. \n\n“Quiet now.” Elizabeth waves a hand at him. Jake slumps in his seat. Dan grabs the edge of his table, shoves himself upright; the blogger is asleep. \n\n“How on earth did you-?”\n\n“Enough pretence, Mr Diegol.” She says his nomdeplume with a sneer. “We both know you’ve broken hundreds of rules; you must have known this day was coming.”\n\n“Broken - I have no idea what you’re talking about!”\n\n“You can’t use magic in front of humans. That is the law. It has been the law since the beginning and will be until the end.” Elizabeth tilts her head to one side, that sneer getting bigger. “You must have known we’d have picked up on you after that bizarre ‘disappearing audience’ trick. Come quietly. Let’s end this.”\n\n“I honestly have no idea what -”\n\nCharlotte clears her throat. Dan’s eyes dart to her. His assistant doesn’t look confused. She’s smiling. And as Elizabeth turns to face the sound, Charlotte’s hand snaps forward.\n\nThe reporter disappears.\n\nDan jolts back; there’s a smash as something slams to the floor. He doesn’t look. He can’t take his eyes off of Charlotte. \n\n“I’m sorry,” she says softly, stepping forward to where Elizabeth had been only seconds before. “This is my fault. I’ll be more careful. Make the tricks more believable.”\n\n“I don’t - I - you were behind the audience disappearing!”\n\nThat had freaked him out. More than any other of his mysterious tricks, that one had made him panic. Because an audience disappearing is potentially hundreds of count of manslaughter if he can’t bring them back, and since he had no idea the trick was going to happen, no idea how it happened and no idea how they would return he was pretty certain that’s the way it was going. But then they had reappeared and it had all been fine. \n\nHe should have questioned it. But then he was famous and people were praising him and it had seemed so much easier to just go with it.\n\n“I’m sorry,” Charlotte repeats. “I only started off with small spells to help you out. But it’s such a crowded market - you needed something to set you apart.”\n\n“So you’re, what, a witch? Like full on Hogwarts and stuff?”\n\n“No.” She draws out the word, glancing at their sleeping companion. “No. That reporter was a witch. I’m a little different.”\n\n“Was? Did you kill her?”\n\n“What? No, I sent her to another dimension. She’ll turn up in a week or so.” Charlotte smiles. “It’s what I did to the audience. I was proud of that one.”\n\nDan slumps down into his chair. “So - what are you, Charlie?”\n\n“I’m a muse.” She draws herself up, puffs her chest out proudly. “I’m your muse. And I take my job very seriously.”\n\n“My muse?”\n\n“Technically I’m only supposed to inspire, not help. But I like you, Dan. I’ve been the muse to thousands of people over the centuries but you are by far my favourite. You’re kind, and funny, and you try really, really hard. It’s just, things weren’t working out for you, on the magic front. So I just gave you that little bit of help. Just a tiny bit.”\n\nDan rests his head back. He feels sick. Sick and confused. “What happens now?”\n\n“Well, I keep helping. I mean, if you’re happy for me to stay.”\n\n“What about the - whatever she was?”\n\n“I can make sure the witches don’t come again. I have friends who can make them forget. And I’ll be more careful from now on, I promise. I’ll leave some fallibility, make it possible that it was just a trick. I’ll be better. I promise. Please, let me stay.”\n\nShe sounds so nervous, so unsure. When he looks at her, he sees it in her eyes. That vulnerability. That fear that he will say no.\n\nSo he nods. She can stay. And she cheers and jumps forward and wraps her arms around his neck. He closes his eyes and lets her. Things will just continue as they always have. He will do the shows, she will make the tricks miraculously work.\n\nAfter all, what could go wrong? \n\n\n- - -\n\n\nMore random stuff at [emmaradclyffe.com](https://emmaradclyffe.com) \n",
"\"A uhh... A magician never reveals his secrets,\" I said, with care. The microphones inched closer to my face. Sweat rolled down my spine. \n\n\"Yes, but you agreed that you would show us one of your tricks on camera. You don't have to show the secret, just the trick,\" one of the reporters said, excitedly. \n\n\"Y... Yeah,\" I breathed. \n\nI shook off the nerves and took a magnificent step backwards. The cameras all began rolling on me simultaneously as the reporters and camera operators held their collective breath. I looked around at them with a sheepish smile on my face. I whipped my cape around and waited for something to happen. When nothing happened, I spun once in place and pulled off my hat, slowly putting a hand inside. I pulled out my empty hand.\n\nSilence. \n\n\"Is he joking?\" a reporter asked openly.\n\n\"This man made me witness my wedding day when he flipped a coin! Shut up and watch, he's legit,\" another hissed angrily.\n\nI continued to do my moves, waiting for something to happen. \n\n\"Al.... Alakazoo!\" I said, and began tapdancing. The taps echoed around the otherwise silent room and my sweat became much more visible on my face. It didn't usually take this long.\n\n\"Is.. is this a new trick?\" the reporter who vouched for me asked, worriedly.\n\n\"No-- yes!\" I said, swinging my arms at the crowd wildly. Then arched backwards, but remained keen on my movements. \n\nMore silence. \n\nI stomped my feet loudly, jumped as high as I could and yelled,\n\n\"Happa!!!\"\n\nOut one of my fingers came a single piece of confetti, fluttering to the ground pathetically. I shook my finger a little more and another piece of confetti came out. More sweat came off my hands than confetti.\n\nWe collectively stared at the two pieces of confetti in a small pool of sweat at my feet. \n\n\"Tada!\" I wheezed sadly, my voice shaking.\n\nThe reporters began grumbling and shuffling away, disappointed at the waste of time. \n\n\"Did you get that? I don't want to go home completely empty handed,\" one reporter said to her cameraman, sadly. The cameraman stared past her.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" she asked. \n\nHe doubled over and threw up a waterfall of confetti. The stream wouldn't stop as he continued to heave and convulse. \n\n\"Oh my God, turn the camera back on!\" a reporter in the back yelled. \n\nThe cameraman began crying confetti as well as he look at me fearfully. He was panicking and waving for me to make it stop. \n\n\"I... I don't know how!\" I stammered.\n\nHe grabbed at his throat as more confetti came out. He was becoming more sluggish, losing consciousness. \n\n\"Happa!!\" I screamed, pointing my fingers at him. \"Happa! Happa! Happa!\" \n\nNothing changed. He collapsed on the floor in his mound of confetti, muffled screams coming out from somewhere within him. The reporter with him stared in horror, then whipped her face at me. \n\n\"You've made your point! Stop it! We won't bother you again, I swear!\" she screamed. \n\n\"No, you don't understand--\"\n\n\"Is this not enough?? Fine, we won't share the footage either!!\" she exploded, tears at the brim of her eyes.\n\nImmediately, the fountain of confetti stopped and the cameraman gasped for deep breaths. He spit out globs of leftover confetti and looked at my legs with unadulterated fear, unable to look directly at my face. \n\n\"You're a monster,\" the reporter declared, guiding her cameraman out with her, leaving their camera behind. \n\n\"Wait, I...\" I trailed as the rest of the reporters scrambled at the sight of me raising my hands again. I stared at my shaking limbs and the pile of confetti left behind. \n\nGuess the secret would remain a secret. \n\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nFor more stories of this nature, check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!"
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[WP]You write stories in your free time, mostly reality based but occasionally you write other stuff. One day you decide to write some horror shorts. A month later a wounded man opens your door, claims to be from the secret service and begs you to stop writing. Turns out what you write becomes real.
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"I've been writing for a few years now, and there are instances where I'd dream about the scenarios after writing them. Pretty normal, right? That's because both dreams and written stories are both figments of a person's imagination. But what about if what I write coincidentally happens in real life? I've had that thought for a while now, wondering if I'd coincidentally written something that turned into a reality. Oh well, guess I'll never know. \n\nAlthough, sometimes, I'd see people who look exactly like the main characters in my stories, interacting with people who also match the descriptions of other characters in the story a hundred percent. \nI just brush them off as coincidences, though. It's not like it happens everyday, anyway. There's 7 billion people in the world; it's impossible for that not to happen. \n\nI decide to write horror shorts one day, sometime around November, graphically describing how a person gets injured or is killed, down to how the blood is splattered and which part of the bone is split in two. \n\nIt's a good change, considering the fact that I'm the kind of writer that's more specific of my characters' actions and the things happening around them. \n\nDecember 6th, I decide to continue my latest short. The main man's name for this one is David Cohen. Writing paragraph after paragraph, i finally decide to come to a stop, ending the last one with this:\n\n\"-the thugs cut up my flesh, and all I remember before passing out is the sound of their leader barking an indiscernible order and the thugs suddenly leaving me there to die in the alley. I can't die here, not when I still have a family to come home to. I stand up and hobble over to the nearest house to see if I could get any help from anyone.\" \n\nPhew, that's enough for tonight. It's about midnight now, and I better be sleeping soon. I still have work tomorrow. \n\nAn hour into my slumber, I hear a loud, desperate knock at my door. 'Who could it be at this hour,' I thought as I begrudingly slid out of bed, putting my house slippers on and carefully making my way downstairs in the dark. I loom through the peephole and... \n\nIt's the man from my story? I can tell he is as he has knife wounds in the exact places I described them to be, the exact platinum blonde hair with black roots I described him to have, and the same pale skin and sharp features I characterized hom with. But he could just be another random person, right?\n\nUrgently, I open the door, letting him enter my humble abode and collapse on my sofa, the blood staining the off-white canvas. \n\n\"You have to help me- these... These thugs! They're after me and my family, and I don't know why!\" He pleads, coming close to me and grasping my collar with bloody hands. \n\n\"Where'd this happen?\" I ask, a little bit wary as I have no idea who he is, yet might I know exactly what he might be like. \n\n\"In an alleyway close to your place, down the street, maybe two blocks away...\" \n\n\"And what might your name be?\" \n\n\"David... David Cohen.\" ",
"I wasn't expecting any guests today. Nobody had called me, and as far as I was aware nobody in my apartment complex was quite so friendly as to just drop in and say hello. I looked through the peephole of the door and two very large men were standing outside. They were clad in all black business suits with sunglasses on. I could see at least one of them had a wire going to his ear.\n\nI was somewhat fearful, so while I opened the door I did not undo the chain lock.\n\n\"Hello, who are you two?\" I asked rather timidly. These guys looked like they mean business, but as far as I was aware, I didn't know anybody in the Mob, and I hadn't broken any laws.\n\n\"Secret service, may we come in?\" said the bald one, flashing his identification. *Secret service?* I thought privately. *What could they possibly want from me?*\n\nI closed the door and undid the lock. As I opened the door and motioned for them to come in, I set on a pot of tea. I asked if they had a preferred flavor of any kind and was met with silence, so I just used Earl Grey. As I brought the pot out with a few cups, they shifted uncomfortably in their seats on my couch.\n\n\"What brings you fine men here today?\" I asked them, cordially. It was strange, they were the ones who were large and intimidating, so why were they acting so sheepishly?\n\n\"You're a writer, right?\" asked the bald one. I nodded in confirmation, but I wasn't sure exactly what that had to do with anything. I wasn't particularly special, not even published in any official capacity.\n\n\"Do you mind, Doe?\" the bald one asked his very quiet friend. The quiet man, Doe, as his friend had called him, stood up, and began to undo his black suit. The sight of him was marvelous to behold. Doe was clearly a man who had dedicated his life to his fitness, and by extension, his job.\n\nAs Doe undid his shirt and began to remove it, it became clear what the issue was. The man had been tortured. He had a few very bad scars on his back, some of them looked like stab wounds or other cuts. Some of them had been much deeper, and it looked like he had spent some time getting them healed up.\n\n\"Do you remember writing about torture like this?\" the bald man inquired. I certainly did. It was just as I had envisioned the wounds in the story I'd submitted online not too long ago. I nodded slowly.\n\n\"You don't think I did this to him?\"\n\n\"No, we're sure you didn't.\" though Doe seemed to disagree with his body language. He began to dress again, and Doe's partner continued, \"We know you didn't do it. But we also know that this isn't the first time this has happened.\"\n\nI was puzzled. What did he mean? It wasn't the first time the man had been tortured? Gosh, I hoped not, it looked bad enough as it was.\n\n\"We've been tracking your stories for a while now.\" such a strange thing for the secret service to say to the average citizen. \"We've come to a rather startling conclusion. Whatever you write, becomes reality.\" I gave him a look of disbelief. Honestly, who would buy that crap?\n\nHe seemed to understand my shock, but Doe looked angry. Doe didn't strike fear into the soul, his face wasn't so severe. He did have an air of murder about him that the bald man seemed aware of.\n\n\"We need you to understand that you can't write anymore. It's not anything personal,\" he gave his friend a look as he said that last word. \"But if our conclusions are true, you have great potential to be a threat to us all.\"\n\nI was silent for a moment. I wasn't a published author. These men had the audacity to come into my house and tell me I couldn't write anymore? For such a crazy reason, at that! No, I didn't believe it for a second.\n\n\"Gentlemen, I appreciate your coming out here, but I'm afraid that it's time to leave.\" I sounded far more commanding than I had actually intended. \"If you can somehow prove to me that I did it then perhaps I could believe you, but as it stands I don't.\"\n\n\"Kryatotia\" said Doe. I paused, listening to the word.\n\n\"I'm sorry, what was that?\"\n\n\"My real name is Kryatotia.\" *Ridiculous,* I thought, *How does that prove anything?* But then I thought back to the story. I had never written the name. He had gone by a code name in the story, and I had simply imagined that name, almost as a placeholder since it sounded so ridiculous.\n\nMy face paled, and I realized why Doe had been angry. He blamed me for this, and I could totally understand why.\n\n\"What's the next move, then?\" I asked."
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Just dropping some of my unused premises here.
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[WP] After weeks of unemployment, the remaining debt on your house is sold off. However, the buyer of the debt is a witch who is willing to forgive your debt, provided you agree to becoming her enchanted companion for 2 years.
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"**Please let me know what you think!**\n\n\"Forget the name you were told,\" the old woman had said. \"It's not real.\"\n\nFor some reason, that statement had struck me deeply. I hadn't been able to think of her as anything other than, \"the old woman\".\n\nShe didn't look much like a witch, as she claimed to be. Nor did she look the slightest bit batty. If anything, she looked like a businesswoman, just one among the many I had dealt with since my last job. Her icy white hair had been cut into severe lines that framed her stern face and her formal pantsuit had been neatly ironed. Impeccably polished glasses perched on her nose, magnifying the woman's aristocratic glare. I fought to stay still, feeling vaguely guilty, as though I had sworn in front of my grandmother.\n\n\"What you're telling me,\" I said bluntly. \"is that you're a witch. You've bought my mortgage. You will exchange the debt for service as your... magical familiar.\"\n\nThe old woman tapped her perfect, practically trimmed nails against her desk, but said nothing.\n\nAn old trick, and one I was used to in my line of work. Many people were often intimidated by the idea of an assassin and my clients often used similar tricks to unsettle me. I had become so used to these tricks that I had thought myself immune to them. The old woman seemed to be something of an exception to my peace of mind. Perhaps it was the sheer oddity of what she had asked of me, or perhaps it was her neat, severe presence. But, whatever it was, I found myself feeling twitchy. I never got twitchy. That was a liability.\n\n\"What does being a familiar involve, exactly?\" I asked finally.\n\n\"The usual things,\" the old woman replied. \"Running errands. Spying. Acting as my emissary. And, of course, the occasional assassination.\"\n\nI flinched at the last word. Did she know? How?\n\nI decided to test her knowledge. \"You want me to kill people in exchange for the debt? Are you insane?\"\n\nThe old woman laughed, and her icy composure cracked for the first time. \"Do you think that I wouldn't know what you truly did for a living? Why did you think that I chose you, you foolish boy?\"\n\n*Chose* me? \"And what do you know exactly?\"\n\n\"That you kill for money. And that you're good at it. I know that one of your competitors spread unsavoury rumours and you have lost business.\"\n\nI sat back, my mind racing furiously. She was clearly insane. This witch business proved it. But she still knew enough about me to be dangerous. I would play along, at least for now.\n\n\"How willing are you to negotiate?\"\n\nThe old woman raised an eyebrow. \"What would you like?\"\n\n\"Revenge against my competitor. The stunts he pulled were out of line. There is *some* honour in our line of work.\"\n\n\"That will cost you an additional year of service.\"\n\n\"Three months.\"\n\n\"Six.\"\n\nI nodded. \"Done.\"\n\nThe old woman smiled, with an unsettlingly satisfied gleam in her eye. I imagined that a hyena would have the same look in its eye when it came across wounded prey. I found myself wondering if I had made the right choice.\n\nThe old woman slid a sheet of paper across the desk. \"This is the contract. Sign it.\"\n\n\"With what? My blood?\"\n\n\"An odd choice, but do as you will. Personally, I prefer ordinary, ballpoint pen. Much less painful.\"\n\nSarcasm? Annoying, but it was another chink in her icy exterior and a reminder that she was only human.\n\nI skimmed the contract she had set in front of me. It seemed to be mostly the usual sort of thing, apart from several references to becoming a familiar and a single clause that informed me that I would be punished 'in the traditional way' for any transgressions. I briefly wondered what that entailed, then realised with irritation that the old bat had managed to pull me into her deluded way of thinking.\n\nI hurriedly signed my name next to the curved squiggle that must have been the old woman's signature. She smiled again with satisfaction, looking once again unsettlingly predatory.\n\n\"Well,\" she said. \"That's settled.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, pocketing my pen. \"I suppose it is.\"\n\nI used the movement of putting away my pen to palm the small vial I kept on hand for emergencies. As the old woman turned to file the contract, I crushed the vials and dropped its contents into the small jug of water on one end of her desk.\n\nThe world spun, as though twisted by some enormous hand. I let out an involuntary shriek and heard the old woman laughing softly. Dizzy, I closed my eyes and raised my hand to rub at my head, only to find that its progress was blocked by my nose. Was my nose bigger?\n\nI opened my eyes and blinked several times. The old woman leaned over me looking many times bigger than she should have, still smiling that shark's grin. Had she grown? No, I realised. I had shrunk.\n\n\"Rebelling already? Don't worry, little bunny. I admire a bit of spirit.\"\n\n/r/YarnsToTell"
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[WP] you often talk to your friend about your plans to take over the world, going into great detail on everything. There are two things you don’t know however, 1) he’s an undercover CIA agent, 2) he’s taking you seriously
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"“Hey Todd” you yell as you jog over to him, taking a slight detour to ensure you cross the street at the cross walk. Todd looks up from his phone and waves to you. You’ve known Todd since college. He looks almost completely unremarkable, and if it wasn’t for the bust of a terrorist recruitment cell at the college you would never have met or befriended him. As you stop just before him, you lift you hand up and wait for the high five. After a moment he gives you the high five. \n\n“how’s it hanging?” Todd asks his brown eyes quickly looking you over, appraising you. You blush slightly. Before shifting and moving so you are walking alongside next to him. you just stroll next to him for a few moments just enjoying the company before responding to him. \n“Its going good, I have fleshed out a some more details on my plan for world domination.” You say in a conspiratorial voice before bursting out in the evilest laugh you can manage, almost a cackle. His head turns to you and he raises his eyebrow in an inquisitive way. So, you continue explaining, “You remember how last time we talked, and the topic of funding came up?” Todd nodded before you continued, “Well I figured out how to get started on the funding.” \nYou stopped talking for a moment, this was one of the things you enjoyed about Todd, how he always wanted more information on your fantasy of taking over the world. The desire to know more was visible in his eyes. But you hold back remembering some of the other times, where you told him horrible things you would do as leader for the good of everyone. Some of those were just exaggerations, but it was always fun to see Todd’s reaction to your plans, and so you have slowly been making them just a little darker or more vicious, trying to see when he would have his fill of you pushing ridiculous and horrible plans. But he never did. In fact, today he seemed extremely interested in your latest addition to your plan. \nAfter the moment had passed you continued, “It all starts with what I have now, If I invest in the correct criminal enterprise I should be able to see a doubling of my investment in three months. \n“and which criminal enterprise are you thinking would provide that type of investment return?” he asked conspiratorially, after making sure that no one was close enough to hear him. \n“Well did you hear what the CIA did in the late 80’s and early 90’s?” you ask him before continuing to talk before he could answer the question, His gait shifted slightly at that and he lost a step, so we were no longer walking in sync with each other. “They are the cause of the heroine epidemic in New York, and they used that to fund their under-cover operations. Well I figure investing in the right dealer will net me a similar return on my investment.” That was odd. I glanced over to him from the corner of my eye, without turning my head and he flinched. That was really odd. \n“Well I really need to go, we’ll catch up sometime soon.” He said as he angled his path away from me. The last thing I saw was him calling someone on the phone before turning down an alleyway. \n",
"\"You're seriously thinking about taking over the world?\" George stared at Sean incredulously as he said this. He had his hands open and towards the ceiling as he spoke. He was in incredible disbelief.\n\n\"Ye-- yeah, I *am* thinking about taking over the world!\" Sean felt put on the spot, and he had to deliver. \"What else would I do when I'm bored?\" He studied his fingernails to feign nonchalance. He really didn't expect to be taken so seriously.\n\n\"Bu-- but *how*?\" George's hands fidgeted nervously as he said this. \"How do you plan on taking over the world?\"\n\n*He really thinks I'm going to do it?* Sean wondered. \"Well yeah, of course I am!\" He spoke with a confidence that was nowhere inside him, but brought about by an attempt to impress. \"And of course I already have a plan in place.\" He turned to George and found somewhere inside himself the intense bravado one possesses when they are utterly delusional about some skill of theirs. Somehow, George was convinced.\n\n\"Yes. I heard that!\" George spat those words out at Sean. \"But tell me what the plan *is*.\"\n\n'Yes.\" Sean laughed uncomfortably. \"The plan...\" He looked around the room frantically in search for some kind of idea for the plan. \"I'm going to use...\" They were in a coffee shop, so there weren't very many dangerous things except... \"Steam!\" He was watching as the barista turned the milk into foam. The hot steam caused him to drop it and curse silently to himself.\n\nSean smiled as he said. \"Yeah, I have a whole bunch of steam sitting at home.\" He quietly admonished himself for such a poor like. \"It's really *just waiting* to be released out into the world.\" He picked up his coffee cup -- little finger out -- winked at George and took a sip. \"There'll be a lot of burns to take care of and I'll have purchased the world supply of burn cream.\" \n\nGeorge, who had a pen and paper in hand, leapt from his chair. \"You can't be serious!\" At first, Sean figured that he finally understood that everything was a joke, but he was more wrong than he could've hoped. \"You're going to take all the burn cream!\" He started to shout. \"How are people going to treat themselves!?\" He was shaking with upset.\n\n\"Ah!\" Sean said, playing along to the joke. \"You see, that's where the real domination begins.\" He set his drink down and crossed his fingers over his knee. \"Then, everyone will have to go through *me* if they want any burn cream.\" He gave a short laugh. \"I'll charge a premium price, and I will then have all the money in the world.\" Now that he thought about it, it sounded like a brilliant way to take over the world. Getting enough steam to burn everyone would be easy enough -- he just had to get a hold of one or two of those barista machines -- but buying all the burn cream was going to be the real challenge. He'd burn through all his funds. *How much can it be to buy all the burn cream?* He thought. *Would my $500 in savings cover it?* He figured that he'd address that problem *after* burning everyone. \"Game. Set. Match.\" He spoke with finality. \"I will be the ruler of the world.\"\n\nGeorge was too busy muttering to himself at this point to notice anything. He spoke quickly and quietly as he looked away from Sean.\n\n\"Hey George, is that... are you talking to your watch?\" Sean was surprised at this change in behavior.\n\n\"Uh... what?\" George looked down at his watch. A holographic display was detailing everything he had just said in tiny letters. \"Uh, no I wasn't.\" He stuffed his hand in his wallet, but it was too late. The dial on the watch turned as it brushed against the interior fabric, and a tiny voice could be heard coming from inside.\n\n\"We will be arriving at your location in less than two minutes,\" the person on the watch said. \"Keep him distracted.\"\n\nGeorge grimaced as the transmission relayed itself, out loud, for Sean to hear. \"What the hell George!\" Now it was Sean's turn to wave his hands toward the ceiling.\n\n\"You shouldn't have trusted me Sean.\" He pulled out his gun and directed it at Sean's head. \"I tricked you.\" He smiled. \"I knew you were made of pure evil.\"\n\n**Sorry for my sheitposting. I thought this was funny** ***and*** **stupid, reminded myself that I need to write more often, and decided to write it as an exercise.** \n\n\nTo be continued???",
"“...anyway, so after we’ve got control of the missile silos it’s just a matter of launching a few into the ocean to get the red phones ringing and the public's blood up, then we offer ourselves as the “emergency transitional government” or whatever to de-escalate the nuclear crisis, and we’re golden.”\n\n“Could you please say that last part a little louder?”\n\n“What?”\n\n“I am enjoying hearing about your plans to conquer the world. Would you please repeat the last part at a higher volume?”\n\n“Uh...sure.”\n\nJust another casual walk back from work with my friend Todd. Great guy. Super interested in my joke plans to conquer the world. Always asks lots of insightful questions. Though lately he’s been having me repeat a lot of stuff. Whatever.\n\nAnd then after I get home, make some ramen, and turn on the Netflix, I notice something-- a little electronic gizmo attached to the side of my laptop, with a little blinking red light. Was that there before? I guess so. Maybe it means that my CPU is below 10% or whatever. Anyway, back to finding out what hijinks Leslie and her friends got into this time.\n\nThen I go to bed, wish goodnight to my cat Winston, and fall asleep.\n\nI wake up to the doorbell. 8:00 AM? Is there some sort of emergency at work or something?\n\nIn my PJ’s, and wander downstairs, eat a quick energy bar. Whoever it is, they can wait till I’ve had breakfast.\n\nThere’s another ring, and I sigh and open the door. Half a dozen heavily armed swat officers swarm into the room.\n\n“GET ON THE GROUND”\n\n“WHAT’S GOING ON?!?”\n\n“PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR”\n\n“I HAVE A BAGEL IN THE OVEN CAUSE MY TOASTER IS BROKEN I DON'T WANT IT TO BE BURNT”\n\n“Check his hair, his teeth, and his clothes for any weapons. From what we’ve heard about this guy, we need to be absolutely sure.”\n\n“I’M VERY SCARED AND CONFUSED”\n\nThen a bag is shoved over my head, and I’m trundled into a van. The van lurches, and next thing I know I’m in a blank white room, with a man in a uniform and glasses.\n\n“Now tell us about the plan?”\n\n“What plan?”\n\nHe slaps a file, thick as a phone book, onto the table.\n\n“This plan.”\n\nI look through the pages-- is this--could it be?\n\n“Is this...is this my joke world conquest plan I told Todd?”\n\nThe man in the uniform gestures to a guard in the corner of the room. “We tried the easy way. Give him the serum”.\n\nThen there’s a needle in my arm and…\n\n....dream…\n\n“How did you get this classified info?”...\n\n...“I haven’t been in class in 10 years”...\n\n“Why were you so willing to share this with Todd? Were you trying to recruit him?”\n\n….--”I like Todd. Todd is a good guy.”--...\n\n…”Give him another shot of the serum”...\n\n…”WhO g ave yoooo tghe AxIs cooDes?”\n\n...“ I gaeot m y SeCuRiTTy card from bosssmann at werk”...\n\n…”I’ll ask again. y Toddddd? Did you plan…\n\n...your Lieutenant?”\n\n“I laaaeeek Tooddd. Tooooeddd is goood gaeee”.\n\n“He’s not responding, sedate him and send him home. We’ll switch back to method one”.\n\nAnd then I’m back in bed.\n\nWhat a weird dream.\n\nI tell Todd about it on our way home from work. He agrees that it was a dream. He really agrees it was a dream. In fact, he reminded me it was just a dream seven times. Oh well. Then I go back to telling him about how in my joke world, I plan to make sure no nuclear submarines escape my clutches. Todd seems very interested in that. Todd is such a nice guy.\n\n(r/StannisTheAmish)"
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[WP] You decide to check out that 2018 Spotify playlist you read about. To your confusion, you find a Playlist of 365 very long titles...
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"It had only been that morning that Anna had discovered the playlist while perusing Reddit. There had been no description, just \"Check out this awesome new playlist, 365 Tracks!\" Curiously, the post had over 10k up-votes, but not one comment. Her interest had been piqued. \n\n*Well, that's strange,* Anna thought to herself as she took a closer look at the track list.\n\nTrack 1: New Year, New goals\n\nTrack 2: Back to work, what a drag\n\nTrack 3: Fri-Yay for the win!\n\n*These sound more like diary entries than songs* Anna thought to herself, rolling her eyes. Still, she was about to start the long trek home from work, so she decided to give the playlist a try. She plugged in her phone, hit play, and pulled out of the parking lot.\n\nThe radio came to life with the sound of static. After what felt like minutes, but was probably only 30 seconds, a robotic voice started on the speakers. \n\n\"Welcome to 2019! You made it through another year. On January 1st, you woke up and tripped while walking to the bathroom. You yelped and held your toe, before finally limping the last few steps into the bathroom.\"\n\nAnna laughed, as she realized this exact same thing had happened to her too many times to count. She finished listening to the first track, and was pleasantly surprised. She had laughed a lot as she realized she had been through a lot of the same circumstances discussed on the track. She wasn't one to typically listen to comedy or audio books, but since she had enjoyed it so far she thought she might as well continue. She started listening again as the playlist moved on to the second track.\n\n\"You arrived at work and mentally prepared yourself for the struggle of finding a spot in the company parking garage. To your surprise you found a spot right by the elevator. What luck on your first day back to work in the new year! You exited your car, and made your way up to the 33rd floor and entered the Marketing Department. You greeted Tony and made your way over to...\"\n\nA chill traveled up Anna's spine. She worked on the 33rd floor of her company. She also worked for the Marketing Department, and her assistants name was Tony Costa. *What an extreme coincidence*, she thought to herself as she continued listening.\n\nAfter listening to Track 8, Tuesday Bluesday, Anna was officially spooked. She pulled over to the side of the road and paused the playlist. She glanced at her hands and realized they were shaking uncontrollably. The tracks had become more and more familiar as she had continued listening, and it soon became apparent that she hadn't been listening to any just audio book, she had been listening to an audio book of HER life. *How is this possible?* Anna thought to herself while trying to compose the many thoughts fighting for space at the forefront of her mind. She took a deep breath and started scrolling through the tracks.\n\nTrack 94: The Day Everything Became Clear.\n\n*Track 94, Day 94, April 4th. Today.* Anna thought, as she contemplated hitting play. Finally she did just that. The track proceeded to go over everything that had happened so far to Anna today. It didn't skip it beat as it made its way to this exact moment.\n\n\"Anna pulled over to the side of the road and realized her hands were shaking. She decided to skip to Track 94. After listening to Track 94, Anna sits and contemplates her life on the side of the road. Finally after almost an hour, she starts her car back and up and heads home.\"\n\nAnna stopped the track and closed down the playlist. She couldn't bear to listen to any more of what the metallic voice had to say. She thought about everything that had happened to her so far, and finally turned on her car and made her way home. As she entered her house, she did a double take and realized that she had just did exactly what the track had told her she would do. She looked down at her watch, which read 6:30 pm. She had pulled over to the side of the road at 5:00 pm, and it took almost 45 minutes to drive home in after work traffic. That meant that the playlist was perfectly on yet again. At that moment Anna realized that this playlist could not only act like a diary, but also a seer. It had 365 tracks, which meant it contained the entirety of 2019. She was only on day 94, which meant that 271 tracks still remained unplayed, both on the playlist and in real life. Struggling with this new found information, Anna sat on the couch and stared at her phone, contemplating what to do with this newfound information. Would she listen to her future unfold, not knowing the consequences, or would she let it play out unknown as the universe intended?\n\nAfter sitting on the couch for almost 15 minutes, her phone rang. Anna stared down as her phone and read \"Mom Home\" as the familiar ringtone blared out of her hand. She quickly composed herself, and answered the call.\n\n\"Mom?\" Anna said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.\n\n\"Anna!\" her Mom said. \"How was your day?\"\n\n\"It was ummm good I guess,\" Anna said, trying to keep her conflicting emotions from her voice.\n\n\"Have you heard about this playlist thing that is going around?\" her mother said. \"A couple of friends e-mailed me the link, but I haven't heard from them since. I wanted to make sure it wasn't a virus, so I thought I'd give you a call. You always seem to know about all the latest techy news, so I thought maybe you could let me know if it was safe..\"\n\n\"Yeah, Mom it's real and it's safe,\" Anna stated. \"But I really don't think you should open it..\"\n\n\"Oh good!\" her Mom said, cutting her off. \"I am so excited to see what all the hullabaloo is around this playlist. You know how I like to keep up to date with the new fads, amiright?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes Mom, I know,\" Anna said rolling her eyes and giggling. Leave it to her Mom to help her take her mind off of her current problems. \"Seriously though, I really don't think this is one of those things that you should look into.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Anna's Mom asked, curiosity entering her voice. \"Oop, too bad looks like it opened itself! Huh, well that's weird...\" \n\n\"What's weird Mom?,\" Anna asked.\n\n\"Well, according to the link this playlist is supposed to have 365 tracks, but mine only appears to have 100....hmmm\"\n\nAnna gasped. \n\n​\n\n​\n\n​"
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[WP] You are immortal. You have outlived the entire human race and all life in the universe. You are cursed to live until the last star dies in 100 trillion years.
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"Funny thing, many people had all these grand about immortality and what you can do with it, but they never \nstopped to think about the emptiness. Alright, they did think about the *metaphorical* emptiness, but you'd \nthink someone would hypothesis about this scenario. Well, maybe they did, infinite time and a bunch of \nmonkeys, or something like that. It's been so long I have a hard time remembering these things.\n\nSee, I'm The Man at the End of the World. No, not *a* world, *The World*. That means everything. And, I say \nman, but, you know, I'm not even sure anymore! My mind has oscillated between insanity and clarity so many times, I don't \nknow if the difference means anything.\n\nAnd yes, because I know you're gonna ask, it is the 'impossible to die' kind of immortality. I've tried all \ndifferent sorts in an effort to find out myself. Exploding suns, true dark space, buried deep in moons. I \nknow that does raise questions about what happens to me when everything else is gone, but if it's any \nconsolation, I haven't had the chance to throw myself in a blackhole yet. Besides, it's not like I have to \nworry about the True End any time soon.\n\nInteresting fact: the things you least expect to happen, sometimes they come true. That's how I met the \n'oids, I call them that, gives them an itty bit of personality. Otherwise, they just refer to each other as \ntheir identifying serial numbers. Where AI went metastatic and failed, the simple machines carried on. I \nsuppose it has something to do with their simpleness producing low error rates, or whatever science mumbo \njumbo you want to throw at the problem. By all means, be my guest, fire away. Not something I ever cared to \nlearn about.\n\nSo, yeah. They found me, and followed their instructions. Bring the lost living back and fix them up. That \nwas \na fun experience, their creators must have been arthropods. The opening procedures were, interesting.\n\nBut I know you're dying to know what this all has to do with delaying the inevitable. You're gonna like \nthis. The last great work of the dying universe: an artificial star. So someone thought it was a good idea \nto encase a blackhole in mirrors. And then, they thought it was a good idea to shoot some light inside this \nblackhole orb so that light would get speed boosts from all the gravity. More and more light going faster \nand faster and faster and faster. I'm not gonna say *limitless* *energy*, but I know you're thinking \n*limitless energy*. \n\nSo here's the deal. As long as the 'oids have power to run, they can send out to gather materials to keep \nthings running smoothly. As long as things run smoothly, the 'oids will have power. See how it works? Now, \neventually they will run out of materials within in reach, but trust me, that is a very *long* time \naway.\n\nSo what happens then? Well, I've got two running theories on the matter. The first goes like so. Slowly\nthings just fall apart, and light just drains out of the orb, slowly getting dimmer and dimmer, until all is \nfinally dark for all eternity. I know, boring. The other is more my style. Cataclysmic failure! The light \ngrows too much too fast! It can't be contained, and the whole thing blows up like a galatic sized fireworks \nshow!\n\nDoesn't that just sound like fun?\n\n>\n\n>\n\nWho am I even writing this too?"
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[WP] Two men walk into a bar. All noise ceases...
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"A cool autumn wind rattled the trees, and leaves fell from their roosts, settling on the ground as the sun settled beyond the horizon. Shouts and laughter could be heard from a fair distance away, it was an inviting sound, calling road weary travelers in with the promise of a pleasant evening. But, the two newest visitors needed no such direction, the Dancing Dagger was well known to both of them. \n\n“Tel,” spoke the taller of the two with a sibilant tongue, “what do you sssay we fetch Father a sssnack?”\n\n“Hmmm..” Tel mused, “Will we have time for a game?”\n\n“Tel, you haven’t any friendsss here and we haven’t the time.”\n\n“But, Aventus-“\n\nAventus silenced Tel with a look as the two approached the door. Tel walked in first, and Aventus entered after, the cool autumn air seemed to follow them in and a chill fell across the room. The laughter, and merriment stopped as the revelers noticed the two at the door. \n\n“Hello, Darlingsss,” Aventus called out, “Father is famished, and I could use a bite as well.” \n\nNo one answered, and Tel smiled beneath his cowl. His Mentor may scold him for his games, but at heart Aventus was an entertainer himself. He so loved putting on a show. \n\n“Oh, I’m hurt,” Aventus continued, mock sorrow flavoring his voice “no, hellos or hoorays for little poor me. I’m just ssstarving for some company. Tel, you and I truly don’t have any friendsss here.”\n\n“Of course I do,” Tel quipped “Watch!”\n\nTel looked around the room and saw a man sneaking towards the kitchen. Tel’s blue eyes caught the man’s and his smile grew wider. \n\n“Mister! You! By the door!” Tel shouted, “Ever play darts?”\n\nThe people nearest to the man pulled away, not wishing to draw attention to themselves. The man looked around for help. He saw nine offered, his face paled and perspiration dripped off his chin. \nHe swallowed hard, and with a quivering voice spoke, \n“Now,Teldach, I-I don’t want any- any uh trouble. I been good like your Brothers said, I uh- I uh.” The man’s tongue failed him and silence fell across the room, only to be broken by Tel’s laughter.\n\n“Now, now!” Tel said between chuckles, “ it’s just darts. Besides, my family is so… Boring! Do You know the game? No? Yes? Here, I’ll show you. You have three darts, and throw them-“Quicker than the eye could follow, Tel flung a small knife at the man, it sunk into his left thigh. The man screamed and fell to the floor, crawling, attempting to get away. \n\n“One at a time!” Tel continued, his amusement unbroken by the man’s screaming, “ That was one, and now two, and three!”Two more knives found homes in the screaming man, one below the ribs and the other at the base of the neck; the screaming stopped. Several revelers bolted out of the inn, but more didn’t dare to move. \n\n“Ahhh, Aventus! He wasn’t very good at this game.” Teldach pouted and crossed his arms. \n\n“Tel, I said we didn’t have time for gamesss.” Aventus reprimanded his pupil, “And now you’ve gone and ssspoiled a perfectly good meal.”\n\nAventus looked around the room, and then said to the quiet revelers with a sneer, \n“Enough games.Who will feassst with Father?”\n",
"The evening was fresh and young. Night had not yet banished sunset fully from the horizon allowing for a fading gold ray of light to fall into the bar haphazardly through the window. Already the establishment was half full. The air bubbled with the aroma of freshly fried chips, and the conversation was a warm murmur. Hours later this place would be thronging with bodies, deafening with a myriad of shouts, screams, and laughter, but for now it was relatively peaceful.\n\nEvery so often a bell above the door would ring and the gathering would pause to glance at the new arrival. Most of the time it was a familiar face and the conversations would resume after one or two exuberant greetings. On the occasion it was a stranger, a server would wiz out from seemingly nowhere to take their starting order.\n\nShortly after even the keenest eye could no longer see a glow on the horizon, the door opened once again. By now the drinkers were onto their second or third rounds and no longer bothered to turn at the disturbance. The noise had grown from a murmur into a rolling swell that swept the bell into obscurity. It did not, however, drown the scream that followed. One of the servers, a robust woman with scars that swirled like lace on her forearms, had one hand pressed to her chest and the other already moving to muffle her mouth. Shocked, the room fell silent as it looked first to her, then to the new arrivals. All faces paled by a half dozen shades as the server's scream faded into an unholy silence."
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[WP] You've just made a deal with a demon. He agrees to grant any wish at any time but to pay for the wishes he requires your lifespan. The bigger the wish, the more years you trade. Little does he know you are immortal.
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"There was silence... for a while. Then it was interrupted by the sharp accent of chalk on wood, then silence again, then the tap and scratch of chalk on wood, then silence. The regular intervals almost seemed to block the nothing, making it manageable.\n\nRichard stepped away from the wall. Upon its old timber face an arc had been drawn on, the twelve runes of Pandemonium etched above the curve. With a short incantation, the green glow of necrofire flared within the arc, flicking almost lazily.\n\nRichard stepped through.\n\nHe found himself in a well lit room, almost small enough to be cozy. The walls were lined with bookcases, and the floor was well carpeted. Otherwise the room was empty, excepting where a rather solid looking desk waited with its claimed occupant. The occupant peered up and smiled.\n\n\"Why Richard, welcome back. Please, do take a seat, and have yourself something to eat.\"\n\nRichard's eyes were drawn to a second table, not too far from him, where several chafers held food. Things seemed to just appear in this place as you noticed them. Richard busied himself with grabbing a plate and choosing what to put on it.\n\n\"What brings you here?\"\n\n\"I have questions that I would like answers to.\"\n\n\"Anything for a price.\"\n\nRichard still brooded at the table of food, his plate near capacity but for one spot. It was, he thought, a rather somber decision to make. This last item of food. For it would close out all other choices, and enforce its own self upon all previous food that had been chosen. Yet, what did choices matter if this was his eighth time through the flames. When all choices were gone, when infinite time had gone, and all memory gone. He would still BE, making yet another choice. The veal will do.\n\nThe demon followed all of the man's movements, he did not miss anything. He must intimidate. That was what the desk was for, what the room was for. He remembered, he remembered. The towering darkness that loomed in the end of the beginning. When hell was made, when Pandemonium was raised and housed with all the multitudes of still fair angels. An itch, almost, as he remembered. Doomed before all else in creation was made.\n\nRichard sat down in front of the demon.\n\n\"I have some simple requests to start. I would like for the townhouse to burn down on the fifth of next month, I would like Edward Stagley to die tomorrow by noon, and I would like an endless supply of fresh cold milk as soon as I return to my house.\"\n\n\"This will cost you six years of your life, here are the forms.\"\n\nThis man was cold. Cold as he signed the forms. Infuriating indifference. The requests chilled him, they were made with such functionality. As if life did not mean something! The demon thought as he watched the familiar scrawl make itself complete upon the page, and he received the paper.\n\n\"And I have a separate request.\"\n\n\"Need I remind you that upon the signing of a contract where your remaining life balance is inadequate, the result will be your immediate termination without the execution of the wish in question?\"\n\nRichard nodded, then let the silence hang. Unbroken now. he let it stretch on and on. but somehow getting thicker until the moment was saturated with it. Filled with silence. He had a question, milled from the millennia he had seen.\n\n\"How does man reach divinity?\"\n\nThe question came flooding at the demon. A million eyes seemed to lock onto his, ten thousand hands held his own, endless hummed melodies under unnumbered star lit nights, flame flickered, and putrid flesh littered the floor, and oh the blood, it ran down grooved upon a plain. Will there ever be an end to all these cycles? The weight of choice sagged his very frame as it pressed upon his shoulders, the choices he had had to make! The lives felt as if they burst from his frame, like roads from the capital of a crumbled ancient empire expanding endlessly to all! Linking all, but worn. The roads created all the patterns of his life, but already he forgot why the roads had been made, the faces that he had loved and despised all nothing but rot beneath the ground, just another worn pave stone. He just extended the roads without any understanding of why, retrod these steps again when chance placed another life near his, only to forget again. What did choices matter? What did love hold? There is but another one to experience, another face to forget. Man can only choose, choose poorly, and then forget.\n\nThe feeling receded, the question was understood. The magic done.\n\n\"Lucifer,\" the man asked, \"You have been so close to it before. What is divinity?\"\n\nThe demon met the man's eyes. He remembered again, but now his own life. His speech before his fallen, the trek he took to Eden, the smite of God. He saw it all in perfect clarity. As if it were yesterday. The itch returned. But compared to this, the man's life was so odd. There was no clarity. He could see barely past himself. THIS was man that God had created. And here was the first of them all, the first man blessèd by the Almighty to be immortal so that he may live in his image. But so limited an impersonation. Pity welled up.\n\n\"I cannot answer this question, and you are no longer welcome here. I will honor our last contract.\"\n\nThe man stood and bowed before leaving the way he came, leaving only an empty plate.\n\n​\n\n​"
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[WP] You're a boss monster. You have slain heroes time & time again. But despite killing them in every way possible, for some reason, they keep coming back. A little stronger each time.
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"It was weird at first.\n\nJared22Xx came back after i flaming-mauled him to death. Weird, but it was not a challenge to defeat him again. \n\nAnd again.\n\n*And again.*\n\nYou see the problem? The protagonist always gets the best. Infinite lives for so-called \"heros\" who killed my entire clan? Yeah, sure. A GOD DAMN THIRD ATTACK THAT I COULD USE? NO. OF COURSE NOT.\n\nBecause the antagonist is always the villian, right? I mean, i saved a forest from their wrath, defended my clan til' i was almost dead, and overall...i just am a good being. A good 4 foot tall, bearded being.\n\nBut no. The protagonist always gets away with it.\n\nLittle do they know...\n\nI already infiltrated their ranks.\n\nJared22Xx. SarahEpicReplay. Dabmaster9. You all shall fall to the real hero...\n\nME."
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[WP] You are Charlie from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, except this time instead of keeping the golden ticket, you sold it.
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"Charlie sat in his chair, finger tips pressed together. He smiled as he looked out of the window of his office. Business is going good.\n\nMany years ago he sold his ticket for millions of dollars to a billionaire looking to get into the famous Wonka Factory. Not just using the money to buy his family a better home, he invested and became rich. Insanely rich. He used that money to buy a factory and started making his own candy. Soon with the many ideas, his business took off and started business empire; Chuck's Sweets and Treats. He never stopped there and soon started dominating other markets.\n\n​\n\nA knock on his door, his assistant.\n\n​\n\n\"Come in,\" Charlie called out.\n\n​\n\nMaria, a young woman in her young 20s came in. She was pleasing to the eyes. Wearing a skirt and luscious red hair. That's after all why Charlie hired her. She was also wearing a short yellow cotton jacket made by Chuck's Cloth \\^TM . All employees had to use Chuck products in other to work there.\n\n​\n\n\"Sir, it's about Wonka, he's here.\"\n\n​\n\nCharlie smiled. \"Call him in\"\n\n​\n\nShe left for a moment and returned with a disgruntled old man. He wore his faded purple signature jacket and a top hat. In his wrinkled and weak hands, he held a cane. Wonka, old and bankrupt. Oh how the mighty have fallen.\n\n​\n\nCharlie gave him a warm smiled. Oh this was sweet. It was delicious. It was almost as delicious as the new Every Flavor Liquorice \\^TM, by Chuck's where each strand is a different fruit flavor!\n\n​\n\nCharlie stood up, \"Please sit\" He motioned to the chair. This his moment and he could barely contain himself.\n\n​\n\nWonka couldn't find a replacement and Charlie's empire took off. Soon he started buying all competition in almost every other market. Wonka's was privately owned, but he had hoped he could force him into bankruptcy. And now he has fallen.\n\nWonka's voice was croaky. \"You won, I can't afford to run the factory anymore. I am in debt and I am dying.\"\n\n​\n\nThis is what Charlie has been waiting for all these years. He built his empire rapidly in a feverish and maniacal state of mind. He had a ferocity unmatched by any other business in the world. As he crushed company after company he felt unsatisfied. He could never rest easy until he toppled the biggest giant of all, Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.\n\n​\n\nCharlie felt the top of his Genuine Chucky Chestnut desk. \"I'm listening\"\n\nWonky spoke again, a sadness can be seen in his eyes. \"I am left with no choice, I can no longer afford my treatments.\" He manage to make out those words with a tremor in his voice and a glister in the corner of his eyes.\n\n\"I'll sell you my life, my livelyhood. I regret every part of this but.... I am nothing now.\"\n\n\\------\n\n​\n\nIt was late at night, Charlie stood in the office overlooking the factory. He had an unopened bottle of Razzberry Candy flavored Wine \\^TM on his desk. He gazed across the almost vacant workspace. A skeleton crew kept the facility working late night's, a few workers were moving around keeping up with their job.\n\n​\n\nCharlie had won, but this didn't feel like victory. An empty gnawing feeling was at his heart. He spent his whole life dreaming big, only to let it consume him. Now that he has won, he has no purpose now. For a man who has everything, he had nothing.\n\n​\n\nFor week's he was locked into his private bedroom in his mansion. He only came out to pick up more alcohol. First he consoled himself. He was merely celebrating a victory. Not just any victory but the ultimate victory.\n\nBut no matter how much he told himself that, it wasn't a victory. He didn't win, he lost the only thing that drove him, gave him a purpose...\n\n​\n\nHe had nothing, he was nothing...\n\n​\n\nHe repeated this to himself over and over as everything he worked for fell apart seamlessly.\n\n​\n\nOh have the mighty fallen\n\n​"
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[WP] Sixty years ago a Demi-God tasked you with sending anonymous packages to people on the day they were to die. These packages contained random items critical to their survival yet no context. If the recipient figured it out, they could cheat death. Today, you received your very own package.
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"*Ding Dong.* The doorbell chimes and you grimace, heaving yourself up from your recliner chair. On the third swing you get your legs under you and kick the footrest under and come unsteadily to your feet. As you step away it pops out and catches you in the shins. Cursing, you hobble to the front door and yank it violently open. The Postie is standing on your veranda gaping like a stunned mullet with a large brown paper wrapped package. \n\nYou aren't expecting anything and with with trembling hands slowly reach out and take it. The pain in your shin is gone and instead is replaced my a tightening of your chest.\n\n\"Argh, excuse me...Mis...you.\" The post officer lamely finishes . \"You have to sign for it.\" She produces a little touch screen device and you bravely attempt to squiggle your initials before giving up and marking it with an X. As you shuffle back into the lounge room all you can hear is a high pitched whinging in your ears. You mute the TV but the sound continues. \n\nYou place the box on the coffee table in front of you and stare at it. It's neatly wrapped in brown paper with the edges crisply folded. You'd never really had time for any of that with your packages. Just whacked them in a box with the preprepared address sticker and dropped them that at the post office. This package though was handwritten to boot. You pick the box up and shake it. You hear a faint rattle inside. Attempting to rip the paper off you realise that the string is actually holding it together and isn't even decorative. There's no sticky tape and by the time you've sawn through the string with your teeth the boxes crisp edges have crumpled under your ham fists. \n\nIt's a shoe box. For a pair of kids black school shoes. You open the lid and find a diorama inside. Collapsing into your recliner you throw your arms up. The box was supposed to contain items to cheat death. Over the 60 years you've been putting together boxes nothing like this has ever come up. You lift the lid again and stare at a solar system orbiting an earth with a massive playground sticking out of it. You gingerly touch the planets and feel around the stars but there are no hidden objects. Tossing your head back you stare up at the water stains on your ceiling and began to see gas giants in their shapes. Shaking your head you glance back at the box and push the lid down. \n\nObviously its someone's first box. Lucky for them you already know the game. Something in that box is a clue to cheating death, you just have to think about it. \n\nYour boxes seem straight forward in comparison. A slow watch to avoid the three car pile up, an inflatable duck to avoid a holiday drowning, a set of new false teeth so prevent choking on a meatball. All practical things that could have saved lives if used as intended. But this. This was not a clue. What were you supposed to do? Wear it as a helmet? Sell it to a disgruntled home invader? Befriend the local magpies with it? You open the lid again and search for comets. Nope it wasn't alluding to an imminent extinction and you couldn't find anything crime or bird related to it. \n\nYou stand up and walk around the table. Trying to look at it from every possible angle. You even drop some of your dinner, Hawaiian pizza, in it and have to glow off some glitter before eating the rest of the slice. But still you have no inspiration. The evening drags on and your list of possible events with a thick red line through has grown to three pages long. You yawn and knuckle your eyes open. Fearing that with sleep you'll miss a vital clue. \n\nWith a jolt you wake up to find yourself asleep on the shag carpet next to the coffee table. Your face is wet from the drool that's pooled under you face and as you wipe it away just as your groggy mind hits on SPACE. Not interstellar space but the space between every thing. You need space to live! You fist pump the air heroically and check your watch. 11.45pm. Not a moment to soon. You rush to the garage and strap the diorama into the passenger seat before remembering that if you are to live you'll be needing snacks and clean clothes. You rush back inside and load a bag with mismatching clothing that was sitting in a pile in the corner before flinging the contents of the middle kitchen shelf on top. \n\nAs the engine roars to life you glance at the clock. 11.59pm twinkles at you as you burn rubber reversing out of your garage. Space. You keep reciting it as a mantra in your head as you chuck the car into gear and speed down your street. You're chasing space. ",
"Everyone get a package eventually. \n\nSome receive a weapon, others a tool like a rope.\n\nI got a phone. Considering I have a phone, I was confused. \n\nWould I be mugged and having this particular phone to give them calm them down and allow me to live? \n\nWould I be stabbed but since it was in my pocket it would stop the knife?\n\nI spent all day thinking of the possibilities, night falls and I hear a knock on the door. \n\n“Jules! I brought some snacks!” It’s my best friend,Stephan,shouting through the door. I smile to myself. Stephan can help me, he always does. I get up and walk to the door. Just as I am opening it, I hear a loud bang. I look at the partly open door, and see a new hole. I start to get dizzy, I look down and my abdomen is covered in blood. I fall to the ground, and Stephan steps in, wiping off his weapon. \n\n“.....you know.... you meant so much to me. I cared so much for your happiness.. for your problems... but not once....” he kneels down and looks me in the eyes “not once do you call me.. ask me how I’m doing.. I lost everything!!! My wife!!! My child!! Their funeral is tomorrow!”\n\nI’m so confused, the adrenaline is wearing off and the pain is setting in \n\n“You wanted to be alone... I was going to the funeral you know that..I loved them too..” I somehow manage to say \n\n“I JUST WANTED YOU TO CALL ME!!! TO CALL ME AND ASK HOW I AM, TO SAY YOU CARE!!!” \n\nHe pressed the gun to my temple and sighed \n“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” \n\nAnd everything went black \n\n",
"\"This is it huh? Hit or miss? Guess my time has come.\"\nI approached the packaged covered in red and green with a ribbon on top.\n\"What is this?\" \nThis is different from what i use to deliver to other people. Its a lot bigger than i anticipated, a lot bulkier.\nI just stood there, unable to move. Am i really going to die? What will happen if i just do nothing? These are the thoughts i kept thinking on a loop for hours now.\nI snapped back into reality again but still unable to move. I noticed that today has been awfully quiet, normally cars would be passing by, neighbors would go out and walk a few distance but that is not the case. Seems like its just me and this huge package infront of me.\n\"Huh?\"\nI thought i heard something, i tried to turn but my body is frozen. I swear it sounded like footsteps.\n\"Hellooo? Anybody there?\"\n I tried to shout but no sound is comming out. I feel my throat drying up, knees feeling weak, arms becomming heavy. \nAgain i hear something, it sounded like laughing, like someone is laughing. It has only been 5 hours now, still no sign of everyone, no cars but there are still airplanes so i guess it wasn't the end of the world and i am not the only one alive.\nAfter some time, i feel my legs and arns responding again. I move towards the package to finish this once and for all. To find out what's inside and to hell with it.\nI slowly reached the package with my left arm, shaking and as i was about to rip the package open, my phone rang. It was a voice message from my dad\n'Mar ry ecs mast'\nBefore i even knew what it mean, it started rainning confettis, everyone in the neighborhood suddenly appear, cars started honking from afar, the package unwrapped itself and my family appearing before me shouting\n'MERRY CHRISTMAS!'\n\nIt wasn't the 'package' after all.\n\nThat was a waste of everybody's time.\n\nEnd-\n",
"Oh fuck this I’m calling him! \n\nHello Marvin speaking. \n\nWhat the fuck is this Marvin? \n\nWhat? \n\nYou send me a package! A fucking butter knife. What the fuck? \n\nOh hey Pete. Yeah, sorry about that. Nothing I can do about it I’m afraid.\n\nYou prick. A butter knife? How the fuck do I stop my death with a butter knife? I know why your doing this, it’s because of Saturday. My engagement drinks. \n\nIt’s not.\n\nIt fucking is Marvin! You know I can’t invite you to events in my life, how the fuck do I explain an eight foot Demi God to my fiancé? Fuck my family think I’m a book editor.\n\nYou could say I’m Samoan, have you ever seen a Samoan rugby player? Some of those guys grow quite tall and.. \n\nFUCK MARVIN!!!\n\nOk ok I’m sorry. It’s just you never call me and it’s like ever since you’ve met her we just have a working relationship. We never just chill out. Remember our halo nights? Now they were fun!\n\nHow were you going to do it?\n\nDo what?\n\nKill me Marvin!? You sent me a fucking butter knife. How was that going to help me stop my death.\n\nI was thinking maybe, ye know. \n\nWhat Marvin!?\n\nMaybe you might get trampled by a heard of dairy cows or something.\n\nDairy cows? \n\nI was angry. I wasn’t thinking straight. \n\nI live in New York Marvin.\n\nI know I know, I suck at this.\n\nFucking dairy cows? You silly bastard.\n\nThis is why I hired you Pete! I can’t do it like you do.\n\nI want more money. \n\nWhat? \n\nMarvin you tried to arrange my death!\n\nOk ok I’ll send an email.\n\nAnd I want more vacation time.\n\nPete I can’t do that. The vacations are done and submitted by January 31st.\n\nMarvin! \n\nOk ok. Hey Halo night this week? \n\nPromise to cancel my death?\n\nYeah yeah I promise Pete. Consider it done.\n\nOk.\n\nGreat! I’ll bring craft beer.\n\n\n\n\n",
"There's something in the way a man can construe purpose out of suspicion. Sometimes in the quiet I feel the tremors of something *more*, something deceptive about the simplicity of it all. I tell myself maybe life is worth living, and maybe there is some tapestry in the madness, and if I were to look out far enough I would see it. But then I come to myself, and I find myself staring at the wall.\n\n\n*What is my purpose then? Now especially.*\n\n\nI think it is a question many old folk ask themselves. I have met a lot of retirees and they struggle with this themselves. \n\n\n*You used to have a purpose.*\n\n\nI've found that the lonelier I've gotten, the more my mind talks as some character in some old book.\n\n\n*Here I am friend. Here to muse and construe purpose.*\n\n\nBut listen to me ramble. You're probably lost now, I bet, and I think I should start from the beginning, if there is such a thing.\n\n\nLong ago I was a working man and I worked for my Lord. I had a church with my wife and I was a pastor and I preached often and lived humbly. In my devotion to my Lord I was afforded prophetic dreams of things to come. \n\n\nThey were quiet dreams though, and they were things of the common man, of death and ailment, and of answers to the simple prayers. I did not see the future in any big way, but my dreams allowed my prayer some slight structure, some tiny bit of purpose that would be relevant to my congregation's trials, so that it would be absorbed by them, and so it would enrich their souls.\n\n\nFor this I was grateful. My church grew and grew and then so did my obligations to my Lord. My dreams faltered until my nights were scant, filled with unremembered black.\n\n\n*\"Oh, Lord,\"* I prayed. *\"Oh merciful God. Why have You taken from me the gift which You had bestowed? Have I not been using it well? Have I not been a faithful son?\"*\n\n\nAnd my God spoke. He spoke in the silence, between the space of the little things that make up a sleepless night. I remember I was lying next to my wife. The shadows upon the bedsheet showed a mountainous country, and the night was warm and my skin was moist. I listened to the silence and my mind construed purpose in that vacuum. \n\n\nI heard the Lord speak though He had no voice. I heard him clearly in my head, and no voice since has sounded nearer.\n\n\n*You are to be an angel now, and burdened heavily. You will be a messenger of Death, and this shall be a heavy cross that will wear at your spirit and at your soul.*\n\n\n*\"My God...\"*\n\n\n*You will bear signs of departure. You will give the gift of chance.*\n\n\n*\"I do not understand.\"*\n\n\n*It will come to you in a dream and you will understand.*\n\n\nThen I slept that night and I dreamt many things. I dreamt what the Lord needed of me, and I felt its burden as but a ghost of its real inconceivable strain.\n\n\nI would be the bringer of death to my fellow man, giving them a gift from the Lord to stall the inevitable. \n\n\nMy wife did not believe me at first. My church faltered as my sermons and prayers were not flavored with those prophetic dreams that spoke to them.\n\n\nI felt lost and mad.\n\n\n*\"This is a medical issue,\"* Jerusha said. *\"This is not God's work.\"*\n\n\nThen I had the first dream of death and was given the gift to hand to the dying man.\n\n\nHe was an old man in my church, and I remember the Lord had seen fit that I find a ring one day with a black stone set deeply in it. I dreamt that I was to give the man the ring.\n\n\n*\"A gift for me, pastor? You've already given me the greatest gift of them all, you know.\"\n\n\nHe looked the ring over.\n\n\n*\"It looks like a black star,\"* he said. *\"It is very pretty.\"*\n\n\n*\"Yes,\"* I said. *\"It is.\"*\n\n\nHe would die weeks later in his sleep. His family did not know from what but I could feel the cancer from within when I heard the news. I could hear it grow in the past; hear it feed off the life, until all grew decayed and until all but darkness remained.\n\n\nMy wife believed me. The decades passed. My hair fell and the Lord grew distant. My task continued. There were moments of long silences and I would stare at the walls or at the sky or at nothing, letting my eyes relax into oblivion.\n\n\nI felt turmoil within as I struggled with my purpose. I had a feeling that made me shiver as these years passed and as many people died. \n\n\n*You know what is coming.*\n\n\nThat was my mind back then. It never talked as much as it does now. But it spoke then. \n\n\n*You know where this will end.*\n\n\nAnd I wondered of God. And of suffering. Was suffering the ultimate path to His light? Was this the only way? Or did He not care?\n\n\nWhen the dream came for Jerusha I cried and cried. Her gift was the watch she had given me when we first got married. I remember taking it off. My hand felt light with a freedom it had never craved. For that was a lonely freedom, and it trembled as she cried with me.\n\n\n*\"What does it mean, John?\"*\n\n\n*\"It is a cruel gift. A joke almost.\"*\n\n\n*\"How? It must mean that there is some way I can be saved. All the gifts are chances!\"*\n\n\n*\"Yes, my love. And this gift says the only chance you have is by turning back time.\"*\n\n\n*\"How do you know?\"*\n\n\n*\"I feel it.\"*\n\n\nI was right.\n\n\nThe years must have passed then but I felt nothing but that emptiness that fills every broken man.\n\n\nThe Lord intervened when I closed the church. He apologized as all fathers do when it is too late.\n\n\nI lived then alone. And so I have remained until today.\n\n\nI am old now. I am near eighty and I have lived too long. I still miss my Jerusha. I still crave her voice and presence, and that feeling of togetherness that even my bond with the Lord could not bring.\n\n\nEach day has been a passing torment with time an untiring enemy. My sleep has been dark and empty and my nights cold from age and isolation.\n\n\nBut last night was the night of salvation, if such a thing still holds water with what I have experienced.\n\n\n*A final gift,* said the Lord.\n\n\nMy sleep was deep and I hoped it would last forever.\n\n\n\"Your gifts have caused me pain.\"\n\n\n*Yes,* said the Lord. *And this one will be no different.*\n\n\n\"Who is it for?\"\n\n\n*You know,* He said.\n\n\nThen I awoke with some serenity. That calmness has lingered today and I feel it as some film over me, marinating me in these final hours.\n\n\n*The gift,* says my mind.\n\n\nI look at it. It is an empty picture frame that closes like a book. This is the gift that can save an eighty year old man. This is the Lord's gift that could grant me more years in this already trying life.\n\n\n*What does it mean?*\n\n\nI feel to break it at the question. I know what it means. The mind can construe meaning and purpose out of nothing. Instinct can flare in even an old man.\n\n\n*Let her go,* this gift says. *Put her away and all grief with it. Put her to rest and you will live on yet in this Earth.*\n\n\nYes. I stare at the frame and could see my Jerusha's face there. She's smiling in that old faded photograph I have. And I could see the dark leather cover her, all the memories and burdens being buried for good. And then this eighty year old man can be free again.\n\n\nFree to do what?\n\n\n*To serve the Lord.*\n\n\nIn the quiet I do not blaspheme. I love my Lord above all except my beloved. My God is merciful and He has a plan far greater than any man can conceive.\n\n\nBut I must retire. I must refuse Him this once.\n\n\n\"I am sorry,\" I say.\n\n\nI look at the wall and can almost feel the vibration of time passing, of the very atoms shaking at God's will. The picture frame falls from my hand, empty and with a hollow sound.\n\n\n\"Paradise, my Lord. Take me to Jerusha.\"\n\n\nAnd there is nothing, of course. I see nothing but the ordinary house of an old man. But my mind construes and I can feel it in my bones and deep down in my soul. \n\n\nIt will not be much longer. My time is nearly up.\n\n\n-\n\n*Hi there! If you liked this story, you might want to consider checking out my subreddit, r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories, including some un-prompted ones. Check it out if you can, and thanks for the support!*"
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[WP] Aliens finally made contact, but it didn't go as planned. Instead of going to the seats of power, they came to your house. They want to talk to your cat.
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"Marie was just about to ask her fiancée whether she'd like to go to that Hamilton concert when she stopped drinking her coffee. She never stops until she's done with it.\n\n\"Anne, what's wrong?\"\n\nMarie noticed Anne was looking at the glass doors in the living room that led to the garden. She turned to see them, and right outside was something that looked like a giant metallic cicada with no wings being held off the ground by eight struts. Below it was an open ramp, surrounded by a group of spider-people-bugs almost the same size as her. They had six legs that ended in a sharp point, two three-fingered arms, two reptilian eyes, spikes coming out in irregular patterns on the backs of their heads and their skin (exoskeleton?) was the colour of an orange-brown hue with patterns that reminded me of that marble cake Marie had last week. They were approaching the house.\n\n\"Anne, stay here,\" she said as she reached for her M9 in the nearby cupboard. She approached the doors and opened them, gun at the ready.\n\nHigh Starmaster Yexnatum approached the structure, escorted by his Council members. He shuddered slightly.\n\n\"Blasted cold. Couldn't you have picked a warmer region of the planet, like that massive desert on one of the equatorial continents?\"\n\n\"The Karex were thorough with their attack on Saint's Refuge, they didn't give us much choice. But at least they weren't Chetellians,\" answered the Minister of War.\n\nYexnatum sighed. The war wasn't going well. All that is keeping the Collective from surrendering was the hope of finding-\n\nHis train of thought was interrupted by the sight of a bipedal creature exiting the structure. It had pale skin, a long ginger-coloured mass coming out of its head, and it appeared to be wearing some sort of blue garment and grey cover for its legs. An odd creature, but it seemed sapient, which was enough for Yexnatum.\n\n\"Prepare the dictionary,\" he said as the Minister of External Affairs took out a tablet-like device and gave it to Yexnatum.\n\nMarie stopped her advance at the end of the stairs. The things had gotten closer, and one of them held a tablet of some kind. Then, the lead creature spoke.\n\n\"Grex, gretttt... grettin-gs, greetings. Greetings, creadurr-creature, creature. We are the Adommt, and we come in... piece, peas, peace.\"\n\nThe creature spoke English, or at least what someone who never spoke the language sounds like. Its accent sounded like a Cockney Jamaican.\n\n\"You have a creature in your possession that we need to save our fuuu, fuuture. Future.\"\n\n\"A what now,\" Marie plainly said.\n\n\"The creatire-creature, apologies, contains an artefact in its body that will end a war.\"\n\n\"Uh, what exactly is this creature?\"\n\n\"I believe it is called a, ket, kit? Oh, cat.\"\n\nYexnatum witnessed as the creature adopted a different facial expression.\n\n\"Colly? You want Colly?\"\n\nAs the creature said that, a sound of rustling was heard. Everyone turned to see a four-legged being walking over dead plant matter.\n\n\"That's the one,\" said the Minister of War.\n\n\"Good, apprehend it.\"\n\nYexnatum's entourage looked at him with puzzled looks, and he realized he was still speaking the native's language.\n\n\"Y-you can't just take her, I don't want it! She's a free cat, she goes where she pleases!\"\n\n\"A slightly hurt animal is better than billions of dead sapients. And besides, the operation will be quick and painless.\"\n\nMarie stood in silence for a moment.\n\n\"Fine,\" she finally said.\n\n\"But I get to be there.\"\n\nYexnatum looked to his Minister of Security.\n\n\"An acceptable risk, as long as the creature doesn't touch anything.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" answered Yexnatum.\n\n\"Follow us.\"\n\n***\n\nBREAKING NEWS: *The alien vessel which entered the Sol system and dissapeared a week ago has been relocated in a rural province outside Toronto, Canada. The occupants of the vessel had made contact with an engaged couple and retrieved a cat which appearently had an alien object between its stomach and liver. The object in question is a rectangular necklace that is considered the holiest relic of the Karex, a race of piscoids who were at war with the vessel's occupants, the Adommt. The relic was transported using experimental wormhole technology to a random location during an attack on the Adommt colony where the relic was being held. The war has ended, and the Federation has established diplomatic communication with both xenos civilisations. The nearby Inthel Commonwealth reports of a third species active in the region below Federation territory, which is the area between Earth and the galactic rim. And now, an interview with the CEO of MarsX, Elon Musk III.*",
"“We know who you are, and we have learned your languages, tongue, tricks and your trades. We wish to speak to your cat” said these Weird creatures. Their ship was already turned off when they got to my front door. And for some reason they think I have a Cat. I’ve never owned one my entire life. I mean, my mom did, but I never had one.\n\n“Sorry Alien dudes, I don’t have a cat.” I said in a calm manor.\n\n“We have records of you owning said Quadruped Feline.”\n\n“No, I don’t have a cat.” I pondered to myself for a bit and then asked,\n\n“If you don’t mind me asking, who put us humans on this planet?”\n\n“Well, Evolution.”\n\n“Yep, that’s right. Now, who put the Metals that are in your ship on a planet?”\n\n“Well, that would be Space” Responded the Aliens.\n\n“Yep, that is correct” I said. “Now listen to me very carefully: Who put the freak in cat?”\n\n“Uh, earthling, there is no freak in cat.”\n\n“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying; There is no freaking cat! Now, get lost before I call the Military to probe your ‘nether-regions’ into the Third Dimension and take you ship for a ‘Drunken Joy-ride’ and reverse engineer your technology!”\n\nThe Aliens looked at me scared and left. One of those “Extraterrestrials” even yelled at me saying “We just wanted to come in peace! No need for that attitude!”\n\nHah, serves them right for thinking I ever had a cat."
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[WP]Ever since you were born you have been able to see the exact time and date somebody will die. Only issue? Everyone's time and date has become 3:57 P.M. tomorrow.
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"So this happened... Too bad I cannot see my own time and date. Since I am an an empty shell of a human I don't really care. I'm just curious if my time will be then too. Not even sure which one is better... all die tomorrow at 3:57 or they all die and I am the sole survivor. I guess there's no point in overthinking this. \n\nNext day I wake up at around 1 in the evening. Almost three more hours... I go outside expecting to see something like a giant meteorite coming towards earth but nothing, the sky is clear, even beautiful. I check the news, nothing unusual; some politics, stock market, weather, serial killer, football, celebrities. Meh. \n\n​\n\n3:57 arrives, nothing happens. I go outside, the time and date for everyone has changed back to random future dates. An old man on a bike passes me and I see his date: 3:57PM, today. I smile. Glad to see it's still working.\n\nI grab my gun and shoot him in the head. Okay, who's next :)",
"It's 4pm, I now have less than 24 hours to figure out what the hell is going on. The dates have always been accurate to me, ever since I learned that only I could see them. When the date and time say someone is going to die they die. Only when I see the issue that will cause their death then I can change it, but four months ago all the dates and times changed. ALL OF THEM. 3:57 pm tomorrow is what they say, if not sooner. \n\nIt's been almost 120 days of searching for the cause. A military experiment? War? A heavenly body? I keep pouring over reports, and schedules, and plans, and experiments that are going to be planned that day. I have become OBSESSED with finding that answer, because my time is shared with everyone else. I don't want to die, but I don't want to be the only one that knew 'The end is nigh!' and not done anything about it. \n\nI rest my head on my desk in front of my computer and sigh. The World was doomed, only a handful of people knew about it and there was nothing to do.\n\nHave you ever tried to inform someone that the world was ending? I may as well have been wearing a tinfoil hat for all that they believed me, there was no convincing anyone that had any sort of power that the end of the world was coming. So I took to the internet and had to work my way into conspiracy forums and groups in social media to have some of them try to figure out what will happen at 3:57 pm tomorrow. \n\nMy computer and phone both notify me that I have a message. I open up my browser and go to one of the conspiracy forums. There apparently is supposed to be an experiment done at the CERN super collider tomorrow at what would be 4pm my time. It's been on the books for almost four months. \n\nCould this be it? Could stopping this experiment be what saves the world? Dare I hope? I stand up to grab my coat and look in the mirror, my time has changed, it flashes back and forth: 3:56pm, 3:57pm, 3:56pm, 3:57pm, 3:56pm, 3:57pm. \n\nWhat was that supposed to mean? Dying a minute early won't change a thing so I'm not going to worry about it for now.\n\nGetting through customs and crossing boarders, not to mention the flight, takes forever and I arrive outside CERN at 3:00pm my local time, obviously the time zone is different here and everyone's time has adjusted accordingly. How am I getting in? How am I going to stop the experiment? How am I supposed to save the freaking world?\n\nI sheepishly walk up to the front gate, it's the only thing I think will work, the fence is high and I'm not the best climber so that'll be plan B. \"Hi I'm supposed to be here?\" I say to the receptionist. I give them my name. I feel instantly stupid why did I give them my real name? \"Oh we're expecting you! If I can just see your I.D. please?\" I hand her my passport. \"Thank you! Here is your press pass, please don't lose it. Do you know where you're going?\" \n\n\nIs this actually working? I think to myself. \"No, it's my first time here.\" \"Ah, well go straight down the hall and the observation room will be the 3rd door on your right. If you need any help please feel free to ask any one of the staff. I look at the badge and see that the name is correct, it's my name after all, but I don't work for BBC. I hope that the real journalist shows up and causes a fuss. \n\nThe hallway is long and I find my way into the observation room overlooking the control panels that control the Large Hadron Collider. Computer terminals arranged around the room make it look like NASA space center. There are snacks and refreshments in the room and I appear to be the only one here. I'm about to stop the end of the world and there's no press to witness it? I almost feel cheated. \n\nOne of the operators sees me in the booth and comes up to greet me. \"Thank you for stopping in to see the experiment!\" he says enthusiastically. \"I'm sorry about the quality of the snacks and refreshments, it's been a while since anyone has visited to see a test preformed.\" He seems a bit embarrassed. \"It's fine. I decided months ago that I wanted to see this one in particular, but I'm sorry, I brought it up to my editor and did not a lick of research on this because he was rather adamant about me not coming when we originally talked about it.\" Please let me sound competent! Please let me sound competent!\n\n\"Oh, that's fine. Let's go down to the control room, I don't think it'll be an issue if you're down there when we conduct the experiment. At least you sound enthusiastic about it.\" He takes me into the control room and we talk about the experiment, what they predict the out come will be, the hazards of conducting the experiment, and most importantly to me how they can stop the experiment. \n\nI glance into the reflection on a monitor and see that the time over my head is now steady at 3:56pm local time. I look at the clock on the wall it says 3:55pm. Okay are we ready to start? They begin powering up the machine and I eye the stop button on the console next to me. I need to push that, If I do I can prevent it all from happening, but why do I die a minute early? I look at the operator next to me, his time changed to 3:59 and a couple other operators have dates months and years into the future. I have to die to save the world? \nThe door is kicked open. and I see a man with a gun, it's the guy who told me about the experiment. He opens fire, I feel pain blossom in my chest as I fall onto the console, my hand hitting the stop button. I look at the clock, 3:56pm local time. \n",
"“Ah, shit.” You cursed as you walked out of your local coffee shop, silently watching as the far too early bus sped past you.\n\nWith an audible grumble and a steaming cup in your left hand, you parked yourself right next to the bus stop and quietly waited as you looked off into the distance for the next.\n\nPeople came and went as you drank your coffee, a light rain following them at each sip. \n\nMore time passed and the rain eventually increased to a steady progression, causing people to huddle over to the same stop you stood at for shelter.\n\nIt wasn’t hard for you to give in to your curiosity. With another sip, your gaze fell off from the direction of the bus to the people standing huddled on the other side of the stop. \n\nWith a quick quirk to your head, you found yourself looking down from their faces to the tips of their hair; eyes focusing on a seemingly translucent set of numbers.\n\nIn order by height, their numbers read 11/21/48 2:48 pm, 3/8/50 10:02 am, and 8/8/67 3:24pm. \n\nYou took another sip and averted your eyes. \n\nIt was always fascinating to see the difference in time along people. When you were younger, it had caused you nothing but grief but now, you saw the world through an entirely different perspective. This kind of knowledge comes with an incredible amount of power so it was only natural to take a peek every once and awhile.\n\nNow that you were in your final year of grad school, it was only natural that you took advantage of your gift.\n\nYou sipped and looked out into street. No bus. You turned your focus back to the group of 3 then and prayed to whoever was listening that the coffee wasn’t near your lips because as soon as you looked up, the numbers changed, causing you to slosh your coffee forward in surprise. \n\nWith nearly spilt burning hot coffee dribbling down your hand, you watched as the numbers morphed into 0’s then shift up and down starting from 0:00 to 12:00\n\nYour eye twitched as it stopped at 3:57 pm, 12/11/18. Tomorrow. You looked to the right and it said the same: 3:57 pm. Tomorrow.\n\nThe left was the same.\n\nAll three people huddled in that same corner stared at you then in confusion.\n\n“Is everything okay?” One of them asked as they inched forward.\n\nYou blinked and mumbled out a quick apology as you turned away.\n\nYou sipped some more as you tried to process what exactly it was that you just saw. Because it never happened before. And you were damn near a second away from telling the lot of them to stay at home the next day.\n\nYou sipped again and cleared your throat. \n\nThe bus came then and you quickly hopped on board to avoid the strange looks the three others were giving you. You slapped your wallet against the machine and looked up to give a quick greeting to the driver but you paused again when you saw what was above his head.\n\n3:57 pm.\n\nTomorrow.\n\nYou turned back at the three passengers then, who now gave you a clear look of distaste. You mumbled out another apology and made your way down the bus to find a seat. \n\nThis time, it wasn’t hard to keep your head down because somehow you knew, deep down in your gut, that you already had the answer your curious self was looking for.\n\nYou sat in the back of the bus with hooded eyes. You peeked. And then you sipped some more of your coffee. \n\nThere was 4 people sitting in the front of the bus, not including the three you had met at the bus stop, and there were 2 in the back.\n\nAnd they all had the same time. The same date.\n\nYou downed your coffee a moment later as your brain tried to fill in the dots; to find some kind of explanation where there wasn’t one offered. The rest of the day was spent in that same state; with your brain trying to fill in spaces that didn’t want to be filled. \n\nThe next day you stood at the bus stop in fear. You were running late today and it just happened to be raining harder than it was yesterday, which made the trip down to the bus stop worse.\n\nYour tongue ached for some more coffee but your nerves got the better of you. Now was not the time. It was 3:52 and you were still on edge from the previous day. \n\nThe bus came and the same numbers appeared for every passenger present. \n\nYou gulped, sat in the back of the bus, and closed your eyes.\n\nYou should have stayed home.\n\n“Shit, Peter. What are you doing? What are you doing?” You mumbled to yourself as you buried your face in your hands. You were nervous. You should have just taken the day off. Should you warn these people? This has never happened before. Not THIS soon. You were never as close to death as you were now and it was the scariest thing because it seemed like you just couldn’t escape it. Everyone you looked at one the way here read 3:57. 3:57 today. Today. Today was the day. These people were going to die. You knew it. \n\n“Fuck.”\n\nYou looked at your watch. It was 3:56. Your heart skipped a beat. \n\nYou looked up and found yourself clenching your hands into the seat. Your gaze fell to every other person and one by one, as soon as you looked at them, they looked at you. \n\nFuck.\n\nBefore you knew it, each and every person was staring at you in that backseat.\n\n“What — what?!” You yelled out. \n\nThe bus driver glanced at you from the front mirror and yelled out too.\n\nYou watched as their gaze drew up. You followed suit. \n\nIt was always fascinating to see the numbers above others heads. Especially since you could never see yours. Until now. \n\nYou stared up in awe and watched as the numbers reset from 0:00 to 3:57 pm.\n\nYou looked down at your watch. It was 3:57 pm.\n\nYou laughed and looked up to the other passengers, but there were none in sight. In fact, the bus driver was gone and so were the tall mass of buildings outside.\n\nIn fact, there was nothing. Nothing at all. \n\n\n"
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[WP] Your investigation into a series of benevolent yet illegal break-ins across the country lead you to a cabin in the woods far from town. The locals confirm that an old man lives there. Rather than being creeped out by him, they all love him. His name is Klaus, but they call him the Toymaker.
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"The cabin was a run down wreck, hidden along a long disused logging road. I had chases this guys trail from Alabama to Montana and now my car was just a few hundred feet from his front door,I sat in the car for a few minutes wondering what the hell I was going to do now. It didn’t seem like he was violent all he did was break into cars and leave stacks of dollar bills, I still felt trepidation though, he might be just a old man being nice or just plain batshit insane.\n\nI slowly got out of the squad car, my gun lay hidden in my pocket, I kinda knew that I wasn’t in any real danger but a colt made me fell a whole lot safer. The leaves rustled as I moved towards the cabin, all hopes of surprising the guy had disappeared by now, he must have heard me crunching through the dry autumn leaves. I saw no sign of him though apart from the smoke gently drifting from his chimney. It seemed that this whole place wanted him too know I was here as even the floor boards squeaked under me.\n\nI knocked on the door and heard a chair crack as an old man got up to answer his door, I heard some German, it was a shame I’d forgotten most of mine when I left the service. A terrible thought suddenly entered my mind of just blowing his head off through the door, I didn’t know why I was suddenly so jumpy,I had been calm until now but it was real now I was going to meet the man who saved my life.\n\nThe door opened and a little decrepit old man with dirty pyjamas and a beard so long it reached his knees looked up at me, I greeted him and he greeted me in a heavy German accent and invited me inside. I wiped my boots on the rug and took a seat beside the fire,Who are you? he told me his name was Klaus the toy maker. I wanted to know why he left me the money and a broken window.\n\nHe looked over at a stack of briefcases and offered me more, I immediately declined and began to tell him how much the money he left me did for me, how I was now a highway patrolman thanks to the money he gave me I could go to school again and eventually got to do some good in my life like him. His face went cold went he heard what I did, the room began to seem very unwelcoming in the developing silence. The tears starred to flow down his face, he managed to say “ your here because of what I did, I didn’t have to follow orders a brave man would have said no but I am not a brave man.\n\nI didn’t know what to say so he spoke for me “ your old enough to remember the war, maybe you were just a child but you must know what we, what I did”. I knew what was going to come next, he was a old german hiding deep in the forests, I couldn’t think of anything to say so just let him talk. \n\n“I wasn’t fighting for my country in the end I don’t know what I was doing, I watched men and women choke and gasp for air in the showers but I couldn’t, I never could see the little children die in that place, but what could I do, I was 17 a child myself, so I just didn’t think about were the children disappeared too. I just made toys for them, do you know like Santa, the ground wasn’t covered in snow it was covered in ash and they used to ask me were there parents were I couldn’t tell them the truth, so I just gave them another toy. I wasn’t brave, I wasn’t a true soldier, I just let them kill and kill, I didn’t kill anyone but I didn’t save any either, I just forgot about the children that disappeared and helped were I could but I was a weak, weak man. I escaped before the British came stole the commanders money, it wasn’t his I saw them melt down the watches the teeth and even the wedding rings. I fled to this cabin and just started throwing away all the cursed money, I tried to bring some happiness from all of that horror and greed. I wish I had the strength to kill my self but even now I’m still a coward”\n\nI sat there for minutes just thinking about this old man and what a life he had lived and I couldn’t find any words I was angry yet, deep down I knew that I probably would have done the same thing or maybe even been worse. I hope that someday I could find the right words to express how I felt and say what I want to say but I might never be able too, so maybe the last words I spoke to klaus the toy maker are nearly good enough\n\n\nI told Klaus “I don’t know if your a good man or a bad one, your past should haunt you but with the years you have left, keep doing good keep helping. You can’t ever forget it I don’t forget Korea and I don’t think we should ever forget, I will be forever thankful to you and I will always remember your charity but I won’t forget what happened, your not a good or a bad man your just klaus the toy maker. Try and add a bit of good to the world before you leave it. Spend every dollar in them cases helping other children like you couldn’t back then. I got up and he didn’t look at me just handed me a little woollen doll and with nothing left to say I just drove until the road ran out and I was back home to my wife and my little baby, I even brought her a little woollen doll.\n\n\n\n \n"
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[WP] Humanity has developed a trade off: stay 25 forever but become sterile, or age until you die and be able to have children.
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"25th December 3018\n\n​\n\nTo whomever will be left to read this.\n\nMaybe in a hundred years we won't even celebrate the birth of Christ but the birth of the last child.\n\nMy name is X and I am one of the potents. Nowadays the number of humans able to have children is in continuing to diminish. Forever life exists amongst us. Since the first cross-species successful DNA-mutation has come to happen forever life was no longer a dream. \n\nA way was found to link the property of sea clams to regenerate telomeres in human DNA making their bodies not age. First it was forbidden by law but soon a referendum was formed in France which made it legal under the right to live constitutional law. This started a major outburst in whole Europe soon all european nations having it legal. USA followed, China, Japan, Russia and soon the whole world.\n\nFirst flasks of \"e-life\" ( that's how it was called ) were distributed amongst the rich, this revolutionary cure for death being way too expensive for the second and bellow classes of society. One month later, in 24th of February 2070 an urgent summit was held by the United Nations and the cure for death was made accessible for all social classes for a price of 15 euros a flask ( in present, e-life costs 1 euro ).\n\n​\n\nThe population will soon be divided in two factions which will later transform in \"Sterils \" and \"Potents\". As you can imagine, the Church was opposed to this claiming that eternal life is only God-given. Soon major conflicts arose with civil wars bursting in many countries between the two factions. Conflicts were starting to cause more and more victims, extremists appearing stating that those with eternal life can still die.\n\nNot much passed and due to increasing conflicts the Vatican was forced to accept e-life stating that indeed eternal life should only be God-given but maybe God gave us the knowledge to do this.\n\nFunny thing is that even though humans can now live forever, the population is actually decreasing due to unnatural deaths.\n",
"Everyone was given a year to decide. At 25 you could decide to live forever at the cost of children, or live on and bring up a family with the consequence of death. \n\nRosemary stared at the clock, at 8am she had to go and present herself at the Life Centre. She had spent the last 364 days deciding whether she wanted to live forever and today was the decision date, the even of her 26th birthday. Rosemary was dressed and waiting for her house AI to tell her that her car had arrived and tried not to be nervous, the truth was she was still undecided. \n\n\"You're car has arrive Miss Greenbay\" said the silky voice of her AI. \n\"Thank you Blue\" she told the house and quickly left. Rosemary sat in the car as it drove her to the Centre, wringing her hands in anxiety. Too soon she arrived and was ushered into one of the comfortable rooms on the second floor. \n\n\"Now Miss Greenbay\" said the young doctor, an immortal. \"I see in your files that you've attended counselling and the workshops that show you the pros and cons of both life choices. You've also lived with both mortal and immortal families for 2 months each\" she said as she flipped through the file. \"It appears then you are still undecided?\" she asked. Rosemary nodded miserably. \n\n\"I'm sorry, i've really tried but i'm just not sure\" she explained.\nThe doctor leaned forward and held her hand, \n\"What is stopping you?\" she asked kindly. \n\"I've met immortals that regret it, and mortals that regret it. It seems whatever someone picks they yearn for the other. The immortals can't have children, but you also can't die, you will be alive for the death of the Sun, the Galaxy, even the universe! The mortals will have the joy of children but also the release of death. Mortals often live much more fully as they know they will die but they also fear death, and fear making connections with others because they will die.\" Rosemary explained in a rush, wanting to explain her thinking to the doctor. \n\nThe doctor nodded sagely. \"It is a very difficult decision, Regret is often the cause of depression in both mortals and immortals. Mortals only have to live with their decision until they die while immortals live with it forever.\"\n\nThe doctor picked up a coin and looked at Rosemary, \"heads, you live forever, tails you stay mortal\" she said. Rosemary nodded and watched with bated breath as the doctor flipped the coin high in the air and deftly caught it. \n\n\"As I flipped the coin, some part of you wished for it land on one over the other\" the Doctor said, \"which was it?.\"\nRosemary sucked in a breath.\n\"Heads\" she said with surprise. \"I wanted it to be heads!\"\n\"Okay\" the doctor said with a smile and put the coin in her pocket. \"That's what we needed to know\".\n\nRosemary went through the rest of the meeting in a daze as the Doctor explained the procedure. She signed the documents and let the doctor led her up to the third floor.\nThe stopped outside a door but before the Doctor opened it she leaned in.\n\"The death of the universe is so far in the future\" she said \"but you will have companions every step of the way.\" The doctor opened the door where a scary looking machine waited, along with another doctor, and nudged her inside. \"We may yet find a way to keep the universe alive, or even create a new one.\" she said with a smile. \n\nThe Doctor shut the door, leaving her with the new doctor. \"Okay Miss Greenbay\" said the new doctor, flashing her a smile. \"You just sit on the seat there while I set the machine up. The procedure doesn't hurt apart from when I put the IV's in so we can chat all the way through it.\" The man got to work putting an IV in each hand and connecting them to machines, along with clicking large parts of the machine in place around her body. As he worked they talked about careers, hobbies, thoughts about the future and stories about growing up. \n\"I've just completed a degree at university\" Rosemary told him, \"In environmental technology\"\n\"A very thoughtful option to take\" he said approvingly. \"Even though many of us can't die not all lifeforms have that choice and we need to keep the planet healthy for them, as well as us.\" he leaned forward so he could see her properly past the machines. \"I know a few immortals who have been up in the arctic, and although we can't die from it, its very uncomfortable to be cold and hungry. A few of them that were testing the limits of immortality and ended up going into a hibernative state from the cold!\" he said with a chuckle. He told Rosemary about other experiments immortals were doing as he started up the machines and distracted her with tales of electric shocks and drifting in space without oxygen (causing another hibernative state for the poor immortal involved). The liquid being pushed into her body felt pleasantly warm and made her feel a bit giddy but she knew it was making her sterile and stripping her of the right to die. \n\nEventually the procedure was done and the Doctor unhooked her from the machines and led her to another room to rest. Rosemary laid back and though to herself.\n'I can't die', the notion made her a little worried 'I could be tortured, ripped to pieces, put in prison forever... My body can't die but my mind could be driven insane by hundreds of things' she started to hyperventilate and the Doctor soothed her\n\"Don't think about all the things that can go wrong, think of all the things you'll see! other planets, stars being born and dying, how humans evolve, what we learn! We can fix bodies\" he said and then looked at her square in the eye \"and if we need to... we will find a way to die, if the time comes\".\n\n\n(There is so much you could add to a world like this. How society treats mortals and immortals, how certain disabilities might be seen when you could live forever, how people would treat each other, the laws and politics of Earth, having to think about the future in a different way because its no longer some abstract thing you'll never experience but an eventuality.)"
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[WP] The world has been in a complete state of peace for 5 years now, and the Special Forces have become obsolete. You are bored of living the normal life, and in order to see if you've 'still got it', you anonymously hire several of the best hitmen to target you for the next month!
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"So it begins. Tomorrow is the first day of the new year, and the biggest manhunt of Europe will begin. Hiring guns against myself may seem idiotic, but last month when I almost got killed in a car accident didn't even raise my heart rate. God damn it, I'm a special forces soldier, if I die, I'd like to go down fighting, not because an idiot forgot to equip winter tires. From tomorrow on, I'll note everything important to my diary. \n\n1st day: I didn't even sleep, when the clock hit midnight, I got into my car and now I'm retreating to my house in the woods. It's 2 days of driving from here, so the actual first night will be critical. I have to make sure no one follows me. \n\n2nd: I found a nice, quite motel in town, quite far from the motorway, but I can't risk my car being spotted. Surprisingly I had one of my best sleeps tonight. The constant fear of unknown is helping a lot. \n\n3rd: I'm such and idiot!! Of course they can use the traffic cameras on the highway to catch me! What a Moron! I had a huge, suspiciously black car with tinted windows follow me on the highway. I made sure it followed me, I exited and entered the highway multiple times. Well shit. I have to do something. \nUpdate: I turned around the highway and drove as much as I could. Luckily they ran out of fuel. Amateur mistake, I'll make sure not to give them 5 stars. \n\n4th: Now I'm driving in rural areas and in between fields. I haven't seen any aircrafts so they aren't that desperate. YET.\n\n5th: I've been driving for almost 5 days straight. I'm getting tired but I can't rest until I reach my retreat. The dirt roads were a good idea, I haven't seen them for a while. I can't use GPS or Phone, they might be able to locate me, so I'm navigating off paper maps. I love it so much, just like I did in the middle east back in the days. \n\n9th: I've finally reached my hideout. The rest of the journey was uneventful. A quick run-through what I have here: Geothermal energy generators, so I'm fully independent from the grid, Gas enough for half a year and food for the same amount. I couldn't install the cameras last time I was here, so I have to do it now. \n\n10th: The installation of the cameras and movement detectors are now complete. Now I can finally rest.\n\n11th: Holly hell, I had my best sleep tonight. I slept for almost 12 hours! I don't know how much I can enjoy this quite, so I went hunting. I got myself a boar. Now I'll have a nice hat, and a new trophy to my wall. \n\n15th: I finished the boar. It's already dark today, do I'll go into town to get something to stuff it with tomorrow.\n\n16th: The little town is fantastic! I really missed human interaction, the locals are really nice. I hope I don't get them into trouble. \n\n19th: Wow. My plan worked. I went into different towns each day, and as I expected, they draw a circle from the towns and raided the forest in the middle. Too bad I'm in an other forest. I should call for a refund. \n\n20th: It's the middle of the night, I think they found me. Fortunately my house is well hidden. Looking at the screen, they are roaming not too far off. I think I just have to wait it out. Looks like they aren't that dumb after all...... shit. Shit. Shit! SHITSHITSHITSHIT!!!! One of them looked straight into the camera. Holly hell, the adrenaline. At least they aren't shoo....\n\n22nd: I'm on the run. I only stopped for refueling. I can barely drive. I see them following me. I. Have. To. Get. There.\n\n25th: I reached the Channel tunnel in France. I booked a place for me and my car. I hope this works. I'm really tired.\n\n26th: Today's headlines: Gas leakage rendered everyone on the train unconscious. They think it's from a lorry carrying sleeping gas. Sure. It wasn't even on the manifest. Anyway, I slept on the bus like I was dead. When I woke up we were already in the Netherlands. So far so good.\n\n27th: I changed the bus to train. And I headed southbound. I wonder how long until they find me again?\n\n28th: Not long. On the boarder, there was a sudden control. Holly hell, how deep can they get into the system, just to trigger a boarder control? I'm seriously afraid. \n\n29th: Shooting in the city, deathsquads are roaming the streets, first responders are nowhere to be found. I should go inside the sewer system, I really don't have any other choice. \n\n30th: Just after I entered the sewers, A felt the ground shaking, and felt the wind. Inside the sewers aren't supposed to be any wind. As fast as I could I ran up the ladder, but I was late. The shockwave already reached me and sent me flying in the air. I landed on my back, my lungs hurting like hell and my ears bleeding, my vision blurry. That's when I spotted the familiar black car, accelerating towards me.....\n\nThis is it, I thought. This is the end. How I desperately wanted to go down fighting, I'll die in an 'accident'. I was really frustrated rather than scared. How could I be so terrible, that I die by a car?? I already had that feeling, when I almost die by a car. Well, now I can. I suddenly got the urge to laugh. I giggled a bit, moments before the car hit me. \n\nWell, I would have hit me, if not for a lorry. It hit the black car straight on the side, tossing it away from me. That why you always give yield. Then I burst out in an uncontrollable laughter. Looks like in the end, I was saved by a car accident. How ironic. When I finished my laughter, I crawled into a narrow alley, inside a trash container, and slept a little. The trumbling of a garbage truck woke me up. I jumped out of the container before it could eat me alive. I incidentally hopped right between 4 man and a woman. They didn't believe their eyes. I knew they must've been the guns I hired. One of them reached into his suit, and I yelled: \n\n\"STOP! At least I want to know how long did I survive!\" \nHe let his gun go while other readied theirs and slowly checked his watch: \"It's half past midnight\" \n\"All right, but what day? I lost count\" \n\"February 1st.\" I burst out in laughter. As I laughed so hard my eyes became wet, they slowly understood what was up. \n\"Time up! I'm alive!\" And I reached out to the first one, offering my hand. He looked at me very strangely. I bet this was the first time his victim genuinely offered his hand. After awfully long moments, he grabbed it and shook it. So did the rest of them.\n\n\"Guys, I know this isn't normal in your job, but how about we grab a drink and talk about what happened last month?\"\n\nThey agreed. I booked a few rooms in a hotel nearby, and after I prepped myself, I went't to the bar and ordered them a round. We talked all night long, I told them my tactics and they told me theirs. It was a really fun night, When the sun rose, we all went to our rooms. \nAfter I woke up, I made my bed, cleaned my room and readied myself to leave, when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it, and there was the she-assassin. \n\n\"You are the first contract I failed to eliminate\" she began. \n\"Well, Then you must be Scarlet. The number one assassin I could hire. The red hair should have hinted it much sooner though. I hope you are not mad\" and I waved her in. \n\"No your tactics were really interesting, I actually learned a lot\" \n\"You had some nice moves, I have to admit. An explosion inside the sewer was genius move.\" \n\"Oh, I have other nice moves as well\" she began, and tossed me on my tidy bad.\" \n\"Is this an other trick to get me?\" I joked. \n\"Well, why don't you find out.....\"\n\nLong story short, I had to make my bed two more times before leaving the hotel. \nThis story happened 7 years ago, now she is my wife and proud mother of my kids. She wasn't kidding, she really got me. Trapped forever. But I didn't mind it. Now I had a reason not to live dangerously.\n\n​",
"My phone rang, angrily buzzing at me. I promptly picked it up and checked if it was the text I anticipated. It was. The fifth and last hitman I hired accepted the job, charging like all others a large part of the sum up front. It wasn't cheap, and it may just be the last large purchase I ever make, but for the first time in years, my heart skipped a beat.\n\n​\n\nI put the phone back down and took another sip of my morning coffee, contemplating the fact that my life was now on the line, starting in a week. Of course, I already had made all the necessary preparations and requirements. I gave a few simple rules to all 5 of my now henchmen. First, they were not to contact me under any circumstances once the time of assassination approaches. Second, the attempt must be carried out without the use of heavy explosives, namely C4, military issued grenades and the like. Even with my experience, I wouldn't stand much of a chance against a bomb. Third, the attempt would have to be carried out within a 48 hour time span, starting on the 31st of December and ending on the 1st. The rules where simple and effective. If they where to fail, none of them would see the rest of the money.\n\nI quickly finished my coffee and went back to reading the news. Once again, the topic revolved around the recently signed World Peace Treaty, praising the effectiveness of the UN and it's recently acquired drones. Those fucking drones ended my career and may well end my life if I fail my New Years resolutions. This new generation of drones was fully automatic and so cheap to produce that they simply overtook as the modern day solider, except they didn't have to be fed, rested, or cared for. I sighed, reminiscent of the days where men controlled the weapons, and where my adrenaline filled lungs seemed to be the most content. I was often asked if I was afraid, to which I always replied that I was, but I was also alive. Nothing feels more alive than being a bullet away from dying. And in a week, even for a short, minuscule moment, I will live again.\n\n​\n\n​"
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[WP] You've had enough of not knowing, and this time you've finally managed to sneak down to the kitchen without waking anyone. Tonight you finally find out the secret behind Grandma's amazing cooking, but you were not expecting to see her in such a weird hat, stirring a cauldron over blue flames...
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"My Granny is the most amazing cook ever. I'm not the only one who thinks so. Whenever we go to a dinner party, her culinary prowess is always profusely complemented. Whenever anyone would ask what her secret it, she would smile knowingly. It was magic, she would claim. I knew she was just joking, but I can't lie, there is something just magical about the food my Granny cooks. I was lucky I could eat her creamy soups and sweet sticky bread rolls every single day. \n\nShe lived with me and my mum, in our small place a couple miles outside of town. Mum liked to refer to it as 'the cottage.' It was a cute little house, brick with a white picket fence and a lush garden. Granny was into gardening too. Whenever she wasn't in the kitchen cooking, she was in the back yard, chatting and singing to the plants as she clipped and watered and nurtured them. She was funny like that, a short, stout lady with curly white hair and rosy cheeks. She even talked to our cat, a fat black puff of hair named Mercutio. \n\nGranny also never let me cook. That was her number one rule. She claimed I would just get in her way. She was probably right. For a sixteen year old I was tall and gangly. I was also very clumsy. Mum would laugh and say that I had two left feet. I suppose she's right, as I could never seem to stop tripping over Mercutio. \n\nThis particular afternoon I sat at the kitchen bench, polishing off the last of a batch of jam drops. Sticky, blood-red jelly oozed between my fingers as I bit into a crispy, golden biscuit. Granny hummed to herself at my side. She was sitting in her high backed wooden rocking chair, Mercuitio curled up in her lap. A pair of thick reading glasses were propped up on her nose, and she held a book in her hand. Probably one of those romance novels she had picked up from the second hand store. Mum was working a late shift at the nursing home, which was why we were startled to hear a loud series of knocks on the door. \n\n'Go see who that is Charlie,' Gran said, not looking up.\n\nI obeyed promptly, licking the last of the jam from my fingers as I weaved through the kitchen to the front door. I opened it, jumping slightly when I saw our guest. \n\n'Gran!' I yelled 'Come quickly!'\n\nSlumped against the door frame was a young man. He had on an overcoat made completely with thick grey fur. Under that he wore a shirt, torn and covered in blood. He clutched his side, and was breathing shallowly. He had long dark brown hair which was plastered with sweat against his forehead. I took hold of his arm, attempting to drag him in over our threshold. \n\n'May I come in?' he asked weakly, pulling away from me.\n\n'What?' I asked incredulously. \n\n'I need you to invite me in.' \n\n'Yes of course you can come in!' I said impatiently. \n\nThis time he didn't resist, and I pulled him into the living room, letting him sit on the couch. He sunk into it gratefully. Gran rounded the corner, an upon seeing the man she gasped. Mercutio hissed, shackles raised. \n\n'Peace!' the man said, raising both hands. 'I mean you no harm.' \n\nGranny looked him up and down suspiciously before asking haughtily, 'I suppose my granddaughter Charlise invited you into my home?' \n\nI stood to the side, shocked. My grandmother was the most caring person I had ever met. I couldn't believe that she would stand there, questioning a man that was obviously hurt. \n\n'Yes, and I would not have come had I had any other option.' the man said slowly. 'I know how dangerous your kind can be.' \n\n'You're not wrong.' Gran said, drawing herself to her full height. \n\n'Please, help me. I've heard of your abilities. I'm willing to offer you anything within my power.' the man begged. \n\n'What abilities?' I asked, curious. \n\nGranny rounded on me, startled. She had forgotten I was there. \n\n'Charlie dear, I'm just going to make our guest a nice onion soup and dress his wounds. Its late, and you have school tomorrow. I think its best that you go to your room.' \n\n'But-'\n\n'Now Charlise!' \n\nI backed away sullenly. Granny hardly ever called me Charlise. She always called me Charlie, unless she was particularly annoyed. Reaching my room I slammed the door behind me, and threw myself on the bed. After a moment, I put my ear to the door and strained my to hear what was going on outside. I could hear some low murmurs of conversation, and a couple of times I heard the man groan in pain. All the while my mind raced. The man had said my granny was dangerous. But how could she be? She was the image of a perfect, sweet grandmother. The kind that baked cookies and pinched your cheeks. The kind that sung to her rose bushes. And what special abilities could the man be referring to? And who was this man? \n\nMinutes ticked by, and I heard the clangs of pots and pans. Granny was probably in the kitchen now, cooking the onion soup she had promised. At that point, I was so full of curiosity I could burst. So I did the only thing I could do in this situation. \n\nI snuck out. \n\nI turned the bedroom door slowly, and pulled it open inch by inch so as not to be heard. Then I tiptoed down the hall, my bare feet making no noise on the carpeted floor. Passing the living room I saw the man, laying on his back on the couch, his eyes closed. His hand had been bandaged, as well as his side. His coat was bundled up under his head as a makeshift pillow. I held my breath as I crept slowly past him. \n\nReaching the kitchen entrance, my draw dropped. There was granny, in her flowered apron, stirring a giant soup pot. She wore a black hat, tall and pointed. The flames on the stove danced, a brilliant blue. She chanted under her breath, throwing hand fulls of herbs into the liquid. With each handful, sparks flew. \n\n'Gran!' I gasped, the truth finally hitting me. 'You're a witch!' "
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[WP]You live in a world where the Grim Reaper plays a game of chess with you when your time has come and if you lose, you die.
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"You were ready for this.\n\nBorn to high-ranking parents of the Chessmaster Champions guild, your entire life has been devoted to learning the ways of Chess. Not just learning its ways: mastering them.\n\nAnd master them you have.\n\nSince the failure of the previous Chess Champion ten years ago, you have been at the top of the rankings. No opponent has ever come close to your level of skill, not even the Champions who have gone before you. Your every waking moment has been consumed by this game: this simple game with rules that can be learned in minutes, yet take a lifetime to master.\n\nPosters bearing your name and face have lined city streets around the world in the months leading up to your Final Game. Corporations have paid your family large sums of money to put your image on their products. You've signed countless autographs, extolled the virtues of diligence and effort at hundreds of school assemblies, and appeared on dozens of TV and radio talk shows.\n\nAnd yet today, less than a week before your Final Game, is your first time giving an interview to one of the Opposers.\n\n\"You have a choice,\" she says. \"Nobody is forcing you to play the Final Game. You have no actual need to do this.\"\n\n\"I do have an actual need,\" you say. \"I could be *the one*. I could be the one who beats Death at his own game. I could *win*.\"\n\n\"You could *die*,\" she says.\n\n\"I only die if I lose,\" you say. \"And I won't lose. I haven't lost in years, not to anyone. But think about what will happen if I win. I could remove Death from this world altogether! I could save lives!\"\n\n\"We don't know that for a fact,\" she says. \"Nobody has ever beaten Death, and even if they did we don't know what would happen. That's what the Opposers have been trying to say for over a century now: this tradition of sending a bright, highly-skilled youth to their death every ten years under the belief that they have any chance to make any impact on the way Death operates is both misguided and inhumane.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" you say. \"But like you said, nobody is forcing me to do this. I'm of age now, and I am choosing of my own free will to be this decade's Champion in the Final Game.\"\n\n\"You are not choosing of your own free will,\" she says. \"You have been misguided since childhood to believe this cause is somehow noble or valiant. It's neither of those things. It's an execution sponsored and televised by people who are only in it for money. Tell me, how much have you been paid to be the Champion?\"\n\n\"I haven't been paid anything to be the Champion,\" you say. \"It's true that my family has received money by some companies, but that's not actually contingent being the Champion for the Final Game. It says so in the sponsorship contract.\"\n\n\"Do you think they would have paid you if they didn't think you were going to be the Champion?\"\n\n\"I think whether they paid me or not is still not forcing me to do anything I don't already want to do,\" you say.\n\n\"Can you not see how socially brainwashed you've become? Can you not understand that you will die, and they will make money by broadcasting your death for all the world to see?\"\n\n\"I will not die,\" you say. \"And neither will you after I end Death once and for all when I face him in the Final Game. No one will ever have to die again.\"\n\nThe interviewer looks at you sadly, recognizing that her words have had no effect.\n\n\"I am sincerely sorry that I could not save you from your untimely death,\" she says.\n\n\"And I am sincerely looking forward to saving you from yours.\"\n\n---\n\nBefore you die, you see Death. The Grim Reaper. The Angel of Darkness. The Soul Reaver.\n\nSo many names have been given to him over the years. But one thing is certain: he will give all people a chance to play Chess one last time before they die. Everyone is taught the rules of Chess at a young age, though most people lack the natural talent it takes to develop any real skill in the game. Their game against Death is short and hopeless. They soon they depart with him, their soul leaving their body and following him into the Unknown.\n\nChampions are chosen at a young age, given food, housing, and social structure. They are trained as warriors: not of might, but of mind. Every ten years, the best Champion is selected to play the Final Game: a game which all the world watches, hoping to see someone finally defeat Death.\n\nTo call Death to your side, of course, you must be about to die.\n\nThe procedure is mostly painless. The cameras watch, reporters in the background behind soundproof glass, as the medical doctors carefully perform actions on your body that will inevitably result in your death. The doctors leave you alone, dying.\n\nThe Grim Reaper appears to you, a beautiful chess set in his bony hands. The cameras can't record him, of course. Nobody can see him except the individual who is meeting their end. They can see the actions the person is taking though, and it has been well proven that a game of chess is being played just before death. In your case, a 3D animation will be rendered by the companies televising your game. They will carefully watch where you move your hands, and recreate a virtual board for everyone else to see.\n\nThe Grim Reaper sets the floating board before you. He has given you the White pieces. It's your move first. You hesitantly meet his piercing gaze. Confidence drains out of you as quickly as your blood. This creature is no mere opponent. You stare into his face, and the deep void within his eye sockets stares back at you in an emotion no human eyes could ever convey.\n\nBlinking and breaking out of your trance, you focus back on the board. You raise a hand, select a piece, and make your first move.\n\n---\n\n\"Why,\" you say with tears in your eyes. \"Why do you play? Why do you even give us hope that there's any chance of beating you?\"\n\nDeath does not speak. Instead, he slowly lifts his gaze from the board, filled with so many black pieces and so few white, and looks into your face. His piercing countenance strikes you once again. He reaches forth a hand, extends his index finger, and touches your forehead.\n\nAnd you *know*.\n\nYou see the sorrow of humanity. The inevitable end, the fleeting moment that is life. You comprehend the eternal nature of time: its vast and unending structure and rules.\n\nYou see the mercy that is death. The thankless, benevolent act of conveying souls to the *Known*.\n\nYou see the beauty that is hope. The gift given to humankind to believe in something, some *way out* of dying. This game. Chess. It was never meant to be won: only clung to. Grasped as a beacon by desperate hands governed by those who fear that which they do not understand.\n\nYou see that defeating Death is the worst thing you could do for humanity.\n\nYou see the winning combination of moves that would give you that terrible victory.\n\nAnd you know what you must do.\n\n---\n\nIn the meeting hall of the Opposers, a candle is lit in your name.\n\nIt burns brightly, the wick being laced with special combustible chemicals.\n\nIt burns quickly, the wax being mixed with less durable materials.\n\nIt burns out."
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[WP] standing in the broom closet of your work with the lights off. Heavily breathing and empty feeling. Without realizing you struck a match you stare at the orange glow in your hand. As your awareness starts to come back you smell gasoline. You look down and see the trail...
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"I wake up in a daze. Where am I? What happened? I move over and hit a broom and a door. \n\n“Why I am in a broom closet?” I think to myself.\n\nAll of the sudden I see an orange glow in my hand. I seem to have lit a match. The smell of gasoline permeates the air. I look down and see a trail of gasoline. I follow the trail to outside of my building still confused how I got there.\n\nAll of the sudden I drop the match and the gasoline ignites. I run as fast as I can as the building explodes. I barely make it to the ground in severe pain. \n\nThe emergency services arrive and put out the fire, and they take me to a hospital. A cop enters into my room.\n\n“Hello,” he says.\n\n“Hello,” I reply.\n\n“So what were you doing at your job at 11:00 pm? The building was closed.” He asks.\n\n“I don’t remember. I just woke up in a broom closet.” I reply.\n\nHe looks at me with confusion and pulls out an iPad.\n\n“You ran a red light on the path from your house to the building.” He says.\n\n“I don’t recall doing that.” I say nervously as I struggle to remember.\n\n“We have footage of you entering the building with gasoline tanks.” He explains while showing me a video of me entering the building while pouring gasoline behind me.\n\n“I don’t recall purchasing that.” I panic as I can’t seem to remember. \n\n“We have video evidence and will soon have credit card records of the purchase at 9:00 pm that same night.” He goes on.\n\n“I went to bed at 8:00 pm. I had to be up early for a softball game.” I shout.\n\n“We called the softball captain. You canceled at 8:30 pm claiming you felt sick.” His interrogation continues as I feel trapped in the hospital bed.\n\n“You have to believe me. I don’t remember a thing.” I scream.\n\nThe cop leaves and starts to speak to a man in a suit outside earshot\n\n“That is the fifth attack this month were the perpetrator does not remember the attack.” The man furrows his brow. “This has happened all over the country. Keep an eye out.”"
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[WP] A child prays, asking to know the true meaning of Christmas. Odin comes down to teach the child about the holiday's pagan origins.
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"It all began when Maggie was in her room. She liked her room. Small and snug and safe. It helped during the times when her head hurt and she was confused. It was almost Christmas and her dad was busy with a lot of different decorations. They weren't the ones his friends used--Mister Michael and Missus Charity had a hand-carved manger scene, and lots of different angels. Those made sense. The ones her dad used were different. \n\n\"I wish I knew what all these things meant. The tree, the mistletoe, the funny log for the fireplace.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, I can be of a help there, young one.\"\n\nMaggie tensed and stared up. The strange man was big. Really, really big. Bigger than her dad, who was had been the biggest grown-up she knew. She didn't like strangers much. And this was a big stranger. He had to be seven feet tall or more and he had muscles that were gigantic. \n\nHer dog, Mouse, was big and he protected her from bad things. Mouse would growl when he heard or smelled something bad. Mouse walked over to the stranger and held out his paw to shake. The stranger mustn't be bad then. Just big. \n\n*Mrs. Charity would not be happy if you forgot your manners.*\n\n\"Hi, who are you.\" Best not to let this stranger know her name. Even if Mouse liked him.\n\n\"Hello, Maggie. I have a lot of names. You can call me Odin.\" \n\n\"Odin? Like from the movies with Thor and Iron Man?\"\n\nThe stranger made a funny face. \"In a way. I was like that at one point. I'm a friend of your father's. I was Odin, and I am also Kringle.\"\n\n\"You mean...Santa Claus?\"\n\n\"Maggie, who are you talking to?\" \n\nHer dad came up the stairs, stepping over the last few with his really long legs. He looked surprised when he saw the stranger. \n\n\"What are you doing here? How'd you get past the threshold?\"\n\n\"Lad, I came in be in this room by happenstance. Through the realms that connect all others.\"\n\n\"You mean you came through the Never-never?\" Maggie asked. \n\n\"She is surprisingly knowledgable about such matters, given her young age.\"\n\n\"I decided honesty would be best...she has the right to know, and I doubt I could keep it from her anyway.\" \n\n\"Um...did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did,\" Maggie mumbled. \"So...who are you exactly, Mister...Odin?\"\n\n\"I have been called by many names, in several tongues,\" the stranger said softly. \"I have done many, many things. And I have seen many things change.\"\n\n\"I...I'm confused.\"\n\n\"It can get confusing,\" her dad agreed.\n\n\"My ways are not yours, young ones.\"\n\nThere was a knock on the door. Maggie watched her dad walk quickly down the stairs. The stranger followed. Maggie watched from the top of the stairs. Mouse sat next to her and woofed happily. She took a handful of Mouse's soft grey fur. \n****\nThat's about all I got so far. This is tougher than I thought. ",
"The shouting echoed faintly through the bedroom door. The child in the bed curled up tighter as something crashed on the other side of the door. It was like this every night, it seemed. Why should Christmas be any different?\n\nTimmy lay in bed and listened to his mom and her current boyfriend yell at each other. \"Eventually he'll storm out and she'll drink until she passes out,\" he thought. Timmy may have only seen 8 Christmases so far, but holiday had long since lost any magic or wonder for him. He didn't get what the big deal was. Why was everyone so happy about it? All that happened was adults yelling and getting drunk, and if he was lucky he might get a mediocre turkey lunch at school.\n\n\"What's the point, anyway? Why do people even celebrate Christmas?\" He wondered aloud as, outside his bedroom, the sounds of arguing finally stopped, the front door slammed, and his mom started drinking. Once it was quiet, he slowly drifted off to sleep.\n\nTimmy awoke with a start. There was something tapping at the window, loud and insistent. He got up and walked over to the window. He gasped and nearly screamed when he pulled up the blinds. There was an enourmous black bird on the window ledge! It stopped tapping and looked at him for a second, then screamed at him loudly. There was a brilliant flash of lightning and crash of thunder. For a second Timmy was stunned, and when he blinked and cleared his eyes the bird was gone.\n\nTimmy shook his head. \"Must have been dreaming,\" he muttered. He was in for his second fright of the night, when he turned around and saw the man sitting on his bed. The was old, with a long, grey beard. He was wearing some kind of cloak with a single bright blue eye visible, the other was hidden by the hood. Next to the man on the bed was an enourmous spear.\n\nThe were silent as they sized each other up. The room frozen in a tableau, the old man and the child locked in a staring contest. After a time, Timmy blinked and looked away. He couldn't help but feel like the old man knew everything about him.\n\n\"Who are you? How did you get in my room?\" Timmy whispered.\n\n\"I am known by many names. Wotan, The Wanderer, All-Father, Blood-god of the Gallows Tree. I am Odin. Ruler of the Æsir of Asgard.\"\n\n\"What? Odin? you mean like in those Marvel movies? Yeah, right. If you don't tell me, I-\" Timmy wasn't able to finish his threat as the old man surged to his feet, his one visible eye flashing bright with anger.\n\n\"YOU'LL WHAT?!\" He roared, \"You'll tell your slattern mother? The one who is passed out drunk in the next room? You'll scream? You think one more scream in this place will achieve anything? Don't make me laugh, child. And don't make idle threats.\"\n\nTimmy was terrified. Everything the man (Odin?) had said was true. His mom was probably blacked out, and the tenement block he lived in heard more than it's fair share of nightly screams. Timmy was alone, trapped in a room with a wierd old man with a spear. He knew this wasn't going to end well. The man's face softened when he saw Timmy terror. He went down on one knee, and softly wiped the tears Timmy hadn't been aware of off his cheeks.\n\n\"Be not afraid, little one. I mean no harm to you. My ravens heard your prayer, and I have come to teach you.\"\n\nTimmy scrunched up his face in confusion. \"Prayer? What prayer?\" \n\n\"You prayed for knowledge. Your wish for enlightenment. I have a bit of a soft spot for those who thirst for knowledge. I will teach you, the true meaning and origin of the holiday you call Christmas. The meaning is this: Blood, and Snow.\"\n\n\"Blood and snow? What does that mean?\"\n\n\"Blood is for the blood of the sacrifice. Goat and Boar, and Man. Blood spilled in the holy places, to chase the night and bring back the sun. That is where the snow comes from. Just as fresh blood melts snow it is spilled on, blood spilled in sacrifice brings melts the winter and brings the thaw of Spring. Why do you think the colors of your Christmas are red and white and green? Red for blood, white for snow, and green for the evergreen trees and the promise of spring.\"\n\nAt this he started to change, to shrink and grow fat. His beard turned white, his creeks rosy, and his cloak because a jolly red and white coat. Before long a familiar figure stood before Timmy. A jolly old man with cheeks as red as sugar plums and a belly that jiggled like bowl full of jelly.\n\n\"Blood and snow. Red and white. That is the meaning of Christmas.\" His eyes glimmered as he pulled a wrapped gift out of his coat and handed it to Timmy. \"Blood and snow...\" He whispered as he faded and vanished.\n\nTimmy unwrapped the gift, inside was a knife. Nothing fancy, a simple bone hilt without a guard, the blade was made of bronze, curved and *sharp*. The apartment door slammed. Brad was back. Timmy could hear him stumbling around. Soon enough Brad would come to Timmy's room and...\n\nTimmy shuddered. As the handle of the bedroom door started to turn, Timmy looked at the knife and whispered, \"blood and snow.\"\n\nThe End. Merry Christmas!"
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[WP] A little kid invites Santa to his birthday party. Touched, Santa decides to show up.
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"\"Ohmygoodness!\" the woman squeals, clapping both hands over her mouth. \n\nHer husband shakes his head in disbelief, a wry smile on his face as he extends his hand to shake the gloved mitts of the famous figure.\n\n\"Ho ho ho,\" Santa whispers with a chuckle. \"Is he here?\"\n\nThe excited parents nod their heads simultaneously, still in shock that Santa, himself, was actually at their door.\n\n\"Honey?\" the wife calls, as they all step into the living room where a little boy of about five or six is on the floor playing with his dolls. \"Look who showed up!\"\n\nThe little boy looks up, politely says, \"Hello,\" and goes back to playing with his Lego Nexo Knights.\n\nThe father tries. \"Don't you remember that birthday invitation you sent to Santa?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I meant the *real* Santa,\" the boy says, without looking up.\n\n\"But I *am* the real Santa,\" the real Santa says. \n\n\"No you're not,\" the boy disagrees with a shake of the head. \"I've been to the mall plenty of times and I've never seen you there once.\""
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[WP] Reproduction has been regulated, and you were an illegal birth. Your parents’ crime was discovered, and they were promptly imprisoned. The hunt for you has begun.
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"My parents used to joke about this. They knew what they were doing, having me. The third child. We knew the law, and we just didn't care. They would laugh and tell me that Planned Parenthood had a very different meaning 70 years ago.\n\nWhen the bashing started, it was time to put that plan in motion.\n\nMy sisters were safe and sound on the other side of the state. So when the knock came, the three of us were already packed.\n\nMom was brandishing a knife while Dad rushed me to the basement. The light took a couple of seconds before it fully switched on. There was several packs laying about the room, a bit of dust over each.\n\nI raced over to reach for my pack, but Dad stopped me. A heavy weight was shoved into my chest. I almost dropped it.\n\n\"What? But this is yours!\"\n\n\"Won't need it. It's got more credsticks than you were saving up anyway.\" My father said, turning his head to the stairs at the sound of shouting.\n\n\"What about you?!\"\n\n\"It's easier this way. Better to avoid attention as one, than a family of five. Isaac, listen to me,\" he took a knee in front of me, \"I can't say what's going to happen, but we'll be alright. Your sisters are far from this, and they know about this plan too. It's gonna work, but you need to stay strong, and more importantly, stay smart. Understand?\"\n\nI took a heavy breath, and nodded. \"Always.\"\n\nMore shouting from upstairs. \"Know the route?\"\n\n\"Through the old canal.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Good. Best I get up there before your mother tries to draw blood. Stay safe, Isaac.\"\n\nHe pulled me in tight, and I never wanted to leave. A quick kiss on my head, and he raced up the stairs. I didn't have time to eavesdrop on the conversation, already clambering up and out of the thin window.\n\nIt was already dusk. Several sirens were blaring on the other side of the house, and I could see the white and gold lights getting dangerously close. I could hear tires rip and tear at the garden. Mom worked so hard on those tulips too.\n\nA quick dash and a hard shoulder busted on the shed. Dust clung to the air. I grabbed the keys and helmet by the shelves of old electric motor parts, and hopped on.\n\nThis old bike was practically an antique. A passion project of my Dad to strap an old electric engine to an even older combustion engine dirt bike. It ride like shit, but that was part of its charm. Or so he claimed, anyway.\n\nStill, it ran. And a lot faster than I could. Strapping a battery to its port, and throwing a few more into the pouches, I set off. The bike was none too happy to be awake, almost hissing at the air as I dashed out of the battered shed and into the woods.\n\nThere was shouting and buzzing behind me. Several drones were whipping through the dead trees, quickly catching up behind me. Another set of officers were not far behind, racing on much newer (and faster) bikes of their own.\n\nThe trees were pretty scarce as it was. Too soon came the river. This long and wide stretch of dry sand and rock. It used to be filled with rushing water, according to my teachers. I still doubt that.\n\nAll I cared about was how well the bike could handle it. Dropping over the banks, I struggled to keep hold of the bike. Loud buzzing was coming up on each side of me. The drones were easily flanking me, no doubt taking their sweet time to aim. So I stood from the seat.\n\nMom loved to take these things apart, courtesy of my uncle, before he went on Vacation. There was a soft tick that sounded about a second before they would fire their stingers. As soon I heard both of them, I ducked, chest to handlebars.\n\nBoth went down, circuits frying. Better motherboards than muscles.\n\nThose officers piloting them would be harder to take care of, and they were coming up fast. They had the luxury of not needing traction at all.\n\nThere came a soft pop, and my whole world came up to meet me. Chin, chest, legs. It all hurt as I scrapped against the sand. The soft whir of their hover bikes slowed, before parking to the earth. I could hear the steps approaching, but didn't have the strength to turn over.\n\nOne of the officers was kind enough to do it for me, with force. A golden light was blinding me.\n\n\"Isaac Gallagher. Birthdate: 11/3/2094. Status: Third. Yep, this kid's illigetimate.\" He stated, too busy to look at his arm than at me. Both were obscured by their grey and gold helmets. That and their armor. Civil Protection looked more like robots than people. And that was an insult to bots.\n\nThe other stood, listening to his earpiece. \"Looks like Sarah and Abraham have been pacified. They should already be getting processed.\"\n\n\"Fantastic.\" The officer on me reached for his belt, and I felt cold metal against my neck.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing?!\" The other grabbed his shoulder.\n\nHe shrugged it off, pressing the gun harder. \"Please, no extra deserves to go to the Stacks. It's a cesspool. Better he goes on Vacation early. It's mercy.\"\n\nI coughed, but managed to spit at him.\n\nHis partner let go if his shoulder. \"Fair enough, I guess.\"\n\nThen came the bang. I was deafened.\n\nBut still alive.\n\nThe officer holding me slumped over and off of me. I could taste the iron in his blood.\n\n\"Sorry about that kiddo. You know I hate making a mess. Come on.\" I was hoisted up to my feet, still reeling from the gore on me. A grey hand wiped most of it off, before tossing his Civil Protection helmet off of his head. \"Yikes. That was wrong the setting.\"\n\nI stared at him in disbelief, not just from saving me, but the look in his eyes. My mother's eyes.\n\n\"Uncle?\"\n\n\"Hey bud. Long time.\"\n\n\"I thought you were dead.\"\n\n\"It's usually easier to explain that to kids than a covert rebellion.\" He grinned. \"Lookx we gotta get moving.\"\n\nI was quick to hop up on the back of his bike, grabbing the downed officer's pistol in the meantime. \"What about mom and dad?\"\n\nHe scoffed. \"If Sarah could handle Abe in their younger days, then they both can handle prison. For a few days anyway.\" He kicked it into gear, and threw us further down the river.\n\n\"What do you mean 'a few days'?!\" I shouted over the wind.\n\n\"Revolution runs in the family kiddo! What do you think your sisters are doing with your grandma anyway?!\""
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[WP] In life, you we’re the greatest conman there was, and even in the end, when your fingers were arthritic and your teeth as fake as your cheques, your wit never dulled. Now you’ve arrived in hell, let’s see you talk your way out of this one.
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"Charles observed the black gate in silence. Death wasn’t at all what he had expected. His body had taken on a familiar human form, his face smooth and his joints free of pain. There was no doubt where he had ended up. Fortunately for Charles, his entire past life had consisted of successfully navigating from one potential hell to another.\n\nNow, death had provided a rather unexpected opportunity. \n\n*But how to begin…*\n\nCharles was careful to keep his back straight and chin high as he neared the gate. He studied the souls atop the great wall of Hell without diverting his gaze, seeing but not seeing. Reading humans was among the first tricks he had ever learned. \n\nIt was quickly apparent that demons were no different than the souls who populated the world of the living. Behind their expressionless features lurked emotion, and emotions were dangerous. Emotions were tied to hopes. Hopes fed distant dreams. A man would give everything to achieve his dreams. \n\nA smile curled Charles’ lip as he came to a stop before the gate. He studied fragments of his reflection in the onyx bars, oddly brilliant in the overhead light. His features were better than he had imagined. It seemed that someone had seen fit to give him a face of power. \n\nHe took a calculated step backwards as the guards leaped down from the wall in unison.\n\nCrossing his arms, Charles waited out the silence of the two guards. They observed him from beneath steel helmets, black eyes questioning. He had cast himself as an exception to their normal routine. It was likely that no other soul had ever approached willingly. \n\nCharles refused to meet either of the men’s gaze, fueling their uncertainty. It was only as the first guard opened his mouth that he finally spoke. \n\n“Why have you not opened the gate?” Charles asked simply, tone level and words smooth. \n\n“You … *want* to enter Hell?” the second of the guards asked skeptically. \n\nAgain, Charles smiled. It was just as he had suspected. The gate was a torture device, designed to give a last glimpse of hope before damnation. The two guards were as simple-minded as their sole purpose in the afterlife. \n\n“Of course,” Charles replied, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Why else would I have returned?”\n\nThe two guards met eyes and shared matching frowns. \n\n“Returned?” the first asked, narrowing his brow. \n\n“You’ve only just arrived,” the second added. The guard tried to inflate his words with certainty, but his confidence had been shaken.\n\nCharles tapped the toe of his black boot in apparent thought. Then, he sighed, casting his gaze to the featureless sky above. His work was not yet done. It was imperative to draw the two guards further into the con, to plant the first seeds correctly. \n\n“I admit …. it has been a rather long time,” Charles finally said, purposefully softening his words. “You two must be new to this task. That is the only excuse I will accept.” \n\nThe first guard growled. “We’ve been here for–” He broke off and turned to the other man who quickly shrugged his shoulders. \n\n“Time has no meaning in Hell,” Charles stated harshly. \n\nIt was an easy assumption, made clearer by the previous actions of the two men. Such wagers were a pillar of every great con. It had taken a lifetime to learn when to raise the stakes. \n\nAs his words processed, he saw the light of revelation in their dark eyes. It was a thought they had shared before – just as he had suspected. \n\n“Who are you?” the second guard asked. \n\nCharles smiled wickedly. He had them. “Who do you think?”\n\nBefore the guards could respond, Charles told them. \n\n“I am Satan.”\n"
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[WP] "Your city needs you," says the mayor, on bended knees begging for your help. "Please, you're our only hope." Only hope? Did everyone forget that you're the super-villain?
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"It had only been a year since I retired from my criminal life. Captain Superior had become a rather boring foil to my plans, so I bought a mansion and retired there. The Captain, however, was still in business.\n\nEvery day on the news, minor criminals brutally beaten within an inch of their lives for \"justice\". The old lady feeding the pigeons in the city park will never walk again for breaking city ordnance 143, the young couple who connected to their neighbours wifi are still in a coma, and everyone feels a huge amount of sympathy for the old lady who put the postage stamp on her envelope the wrong way up. She will be eating through a straw until her jaw has completely healed.\n\n\"Captain Superior has no worthy opponents,\" the Mayor said, \"but his sense of justice means he can't retire until there's no crime at all\".\n\n\"He's so ... boring and predictable,\" I replied.\n\n\"We can't stop him hurting citizens who are committing minor acts that the police won't even follow up on. He just says that a criminal is a criminal and needs to be punished. We've asked villains from other cities to help, but everyone else is terrified.\"\n\nI remembered. I spent a month on holiday on some exotic island while another villain took over briefly. When I returned, he told me that there was no-way he would cover again. Nearly three quarters of his henchmen had either been killed or maimed, and he had lost a lot of money paying medical and dental bills.\n\n\"What's in it for me? I mean, I'm comfy here and I certainly don't need the money.\"\n\n\"A complete pardon for all crimes. You get to choose which of your henchmen can be released from prison. We don't need to know the rest.\"\n\nI thought about it, and then laughed. The irony of the hero becoming the villain was not lost on me, neither was the fact that to be a hero and save the innocent people of the city, I had to become a super-villain again.\n\n\"I'll do it,\" I said.\n\nBesides, retirement was getting a little lonely.\n\n​",
"The mayor looked desperate. The sad, sullen kind of desperate that I so badly empathized with. The kind of desperate that brought men with power to their knees in an instant.\n\nI frowned behind my mask.\n\n\"Please, Clockwork Prince, he's tearing people apart. Your Gift is the only thing that can get close. He's some kind of Striker, and it's bad enough I'm coming here to beg you to help myself.\"\n\n\"What could I possibly do that your thugs couldn't do themselves? All I do is eat your useless tech, I'm not a miracle worker. Definitely not the guy you call when you're in a bind.\"\n\nThe mayor, sweating profusely, loosened his tie, one hand trying to hold up his pants. My power had taken his glasses, belt buckle, phone, and watch. Their components whirled as some inscrutable fragments within my usual cloud of technical debris, slowly whirling behind my back.\n\n\"He's a robot, we think. Or some sort of android. Whatever he is, he doesn't need to breathe. He's got a mean right hook and he's ripped through every squad we have on rotation.\"\n\nOh. A robot. Or at least cybernetics. Makes sense. \"Yeah, that sounds like a problem I can solve.\" \n\nAn understatement - this wouldn't even take a full minute to fix. If he got within 20 feet of me he'd be immediately torn into his component parts. \n\n\"We're prepared to offer you a sizeable reward. Absolution for your previous major crimes, a way out of the city, please - just take him out.\" \n\nI smiled, even though I knew he couldn't see my face. \n\n\"I'll see what I can do.\"\n\n***\n\nOngoing section of a book I've been writing, wip",
"She must take me for a fool. How dare she even come here after all I have been through because of them. “So, I am to rise up and fight the righteous battles for the city that cast me out? I am to forget the pain and humiliation given to me at the hands of him and your people to save you all and for what? Out of the kindness of my own heart?” \n“I know you may not like these people and maybe they did not like you, but it is not their fault. People are afraid of what they don’t understand I think you can realize that.”\n“Of course I realize that,” I say rising to my feet as I begin pacing the room. “I just don’t accept it.” \n\nDid she honestly believe she could convince me to save them? I had been shunned for my abilities, ridiculed for my altered appearance, things I had no control over made those people hate me. But he was embraced. They praised him like a god. He was their savior. That should have been enough for them, worshipping him should have made them content. But no, it wasn’t enough. A hero with no villain is only a man. So they made him a hero. \n\n“They’re sorry for what they did to you, Isaac, they were small minded.”\n“No, they’re not.” \n“Then I am sorry on their behalf.”\n“That’s not good enough!” \nI slammed my fist into the wall, punching a hole clean through. The mayor dropped her head in disappointment. I did not pity her. I did not pity any of them. I never fought him, not once, but they let him tear me apart. Time and again I was beaten for nothing. They couldn’t legally have me arrested or thrown in prison because I had done nothing wrong and they knew it. The constant assault on me satisfied their bloodlust. \n“I won’t help you, Irene. You made this monster, you will have to deal with him yourself.” \nShe looked up at me with tears in her eyes, they too were pleading with me for help. I’m surprised she could hold my gaze for so long, no one ever could stare that long into my black, lifeless eyes. She opened her mouth to beg me some more but quickly closed it. \n“Please, Isaac. You of all people know how powerful he is. We don’t stand a chance.”\n\n“I know.” ",
"I smiled and chuckled at his helpless words. Just last week I had my mugshot taken and now I had the mayor prostrating before me. It felt pretty good, as if there were some kind of justice in this world. I scoffed at him, \"my city needs me? I'm your only hope? What's in it for me?\"\n\n\"A pardo-\"\n\n\"Say no more, I'll do it\"\n\nThat was all I was looking for. The mayor was so desperate that he would pardon me from prison.\n\n\"What's the job, I want this to be over quickly, and by the way, you could have chosen the jock in the cell over one, he actually has powers unlike me.\"\n\n\". . .\"\n\n\"What?! Cat's got your tongue? Spit it.\"\n\n\"The prisoner in the cell next to you died fighting the threat.\"\n\nIt should have phased me, Dismas was arguably more dangerous than me, but a mans gotta save face sometimes, \"Hmph. I knew he was pathetic anyway. Now- what is it, what's the deal?\"\n\n\"It's some kind of terrorist organization.\"\n\n\"What about Golden boy, the one who locked me away?\"\n\n\"Captured\"\n\n\"Tyran\"\n\n\"Beheaded\"\n\n\"Quincy?\"\n\n\"Dead\"\n\n\"Pl-\"\n\n\"DEAD- Don't you understand? They're ALL DEAD, WHY DO YOU THINK I'M HERE.\"\n\n\"I'm flattered sir, but why the hell should I do it if all these guys got whupped.\"\n\n\"I can erase your permanent record.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"And. . . I'll hook you up with an offshore account with billions.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"Look, Richter, Razor, I don't care what you call yourself nowadays, I'll give you whatever the hell you want if you can deal with those terrorists. We don't have time for this.\"\n\n\"Alright, sounds good to me.\"\n\nI loaded up into the government transport.\n\n\"We're headed to my private airfield, there's a jet waiting there ready to brief you of the situation, we've held off on you because you don't have any powers, but you're still dangerous nonetheless, so we figured, why the hell not. We can ship you all to certain doom with a slight chance of succeeding.\"\n\nThe governor scratched his face, he looked pale and wasn't looking straight at me.\n\n\"Do you have something to tell me sir?\"\n\nHe didn't answer.\n\n\"SIR\"\n\n\"NO, I'm sorry- no nothing, you get the briefing in the helicopter.\"\n\nWe pulled up to the airfield. I saw the bodies of the caped heroes who once 'served justice' being carried on stretchers into ambulances. Their bodies ridden with bullet holes and throats slit, but otherwise in pristine condition. Then I boarded the jet, as I left the mayor shook hands with some shady person- masked, he had a professional stature and calm expression. This was no doubt a killer, I could spot that kind of person from anywhere- I *am* that person. I was surrounded by four or five people dressed in marine corps uniforms. A man smoking a rather loaded cigar pulled out a file and began to read off a scenario. His gun was safety off.\n\nIt sounded extraordinarily familiar. \"You're going to be dropping in Iraq in order to clear a terrorist organization compound.\" *They are heavily equipped and are well trained.* Those were the next words, but I knew them, this was the same briefing as I had gotten twenty years ago when I was in service to the marines. We deployed in Iraq in this same fashion, except maybe the plane was bigger. I raised my hand \"what is the organization name\" The soldier hesitated.\n\nAfter a moment he gave a flimsy answer, \"The group known as VRT has resurfaced, you know the one from twenty years ago when the military occupied Iraq.\"\n\n\"Oh trust me *I know*\" The soldiers looked towards each other. I gave a convincing laugh to set them at ease. Something about this whole situation felt so strange. I severely doubted that some second rate terrorist organization could take out Golden Boy and the rest.\n\n*The details,* for a hitman such as myself it was all in the details. Earlier the mayor scratched his face and looked away, clearly hiding something. The bodies they were carrying away. They were dead but it looked like there was no struggle, as if they didn't expect a fight. The shady guy the mayor shook hands with. The recycled briefing. Even the gun in his holster wasn't on safety. This was all just a setup. There was no catastrophe, it was just to get rid of *us* the heroes and the villains, the people who posed the largest potential threat to the people. Childs play, the government was so terrible at everything that they couldn't even put together a consistent story.\n\nI didn't have any weapons on me, but you know what they say *ask and you shall receive*. \"Hey you, man with the cigar. I need a gun if I'm going to be handling some terrorists, any will do- how bout the pistol right in your holster, that'll do fine.\" he looked uneasily around at the people around him who all nodded to give me the gun. He pulled the gun out of its holster, it looked like a 1911, which gave me seven shots.\n\nThey really wanted to make this easy. I had five for the people around me and one for the driver. One extra bullet? What am I, a joke? I took the gun from his hand and immediately pointed it at him, everybody drew their holstered weapons.\n\nI laughed, the laugh of a madman. This took timing. I would just pretend to be crazy and they were going to put their guns away, that's when I would strike. I even made a big show of putting the gun on safety, \"HAAHAHAHAHAH, ohhh- I got you fools good. You should have seen the look on your faces- like this . . . HAHAHAHAHAH\" Nobody else was laughing, but they seemed convinced. They put the weapons down slowly, cautiously. As I flailed around in my laughter I switched the gun back to live.\n\nThen the last gun was holstered *bullet time*.\n\nI swiftly brought up the gun.\n\n*Pop*\n\n*Pop*\n\n*Pop*\n\n*Pop*\n\n*Pop*\n\n. . .\n\n*Pop*\n\nThat was six.\n\nAll five of the marines in the cabin had clean gunshot wounds bored straight through their skull. You could see straight through their head as blood spilled onto the seats. The pilot was a bit messy though. Not my cleanest kill. The helmet he had looked smashed in and the gunshot didn't pierce. He was actually still alive, so I gave him a quick and satisfying *thunk* to knock him out.\n\nI turned the jet around and returned to the airfield.\n\nThe mayor came to greet the jet.\n\n\"Well done! That one was quick! . . . hello?\"\n\nHe stepped into the jet, and I was beginning to think I had gotten just the right amount of bullets.\n\n*Click*\n\nHe looked straight into the barrel of the gun, \"Oh shi-\"\n\n*Pop*\n\n​\n\n​",
"They need me? A grin spreads on my face as my yellow teeth appear. Here she is, on her knees in front of my cell. Does she expect me to just walk with her and save the day?\n\n​\n\nI point my middlefinger to my chest and pressed it a bit. “Me?” She nods, nothing but whimpers coming from her mouth. She slowly stands up and straigtens her dress. Her panty’s are unsaveable though. “Hmm, but do I feel like a hero today?” I scratch my non-existed beard, looking into the air as if I were to find my answer there. I knew my answer the moments she asked, but I really could use some more begging after being in this hellhole for so long.\n\n​\n\n“Ofcourse…”, she continues as if she never fell out of her politician manners, “we have some terms.” I look back at her and raise an eyebrow. Speak, woman. She straightens her dress again, which is starting to annoy me. I don’t care about your goddamn dress. “We can arrange a better cell for-“ “Well, well. Your world is in trouble and the only thing you can offer me is a better life in prison? I want freedom.” She looks at me and nods. Wait? She nods?\n\n​\n\n“I was expecting you to say that, but why not try”, she smiles. “We can offer you your freedom and a house that is available just outside the city.” I grin, once again. “I don’t need your house, I have my own. I want better.” I knew what I wanted, but she needs to ask for it. I need her to ask for it. I need my satisfaction in this very moment.\n\n​\n\n“It is a great hous-“ “No.” I walk back to my stone bench while unbuttoning my orange blouse. I knew I didn’t need this any longer. “We don’t have much time, Lansier. You need to help us. Just tell me what you want”, she sounds so desperate. Just how I like them. Those foolish politicians think they can rule the world. They think words are power. Are they going to negotiate with a nuke? No, power is power.\n\n​\n\n“I want him”, I say. I turn around and see horror on her face. What? She didn’t see it coming? That’s foolish of her. Of course I want him. That’s all I’ve been after, but they told me no. Words are power.“We can’t-“ “It’s him or the rest of your stupid little town.” A tear is appearing on her cheek. I approach her and whipe it off with my thumb.\n\n​\n\n“Don’t cry, Nora. What did you expect me to say?” I look at her with one side of my lips curled into a smile. “Don’t do it, Lansier. Not Brad, not my-“ “OUR SON”, I yell at her face with anger. I hate it when she calls it her son as if I had no part in creating him. “Our son”, she almost whispers, looking at the ground.\n\n​\n\n“Nora… Nora, nora nora.” I sigh. “Nora.” I walk a little round in my cell. “I’m not going to hurt him. All I ever wanted was to see him and for him to see me-“ “MADAM MAYER!” Someone interrupts me. “Madam, the creature… it’s on Bat Street.” She nods and thanks the police officer, who looks terrified at me.\n\n​\n\n“Okay”, she looks at me with pain in her eyes. Yes. YES. “You will see your son.”\n\n​\n\n​\n\n(I really hope I'm doing this right with all the enters and such. Oh and sorry if the grammar isn't all good, I'm not native at English.)"
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[WP] It has been an uncharacteristically hot summer. One day, portals to all manner of mystic realm, from within this universe and without, open on Earth. Masters of the mystic arts flood into the world. They have come for a precious alchemical reagent: the last sunlight of a dying world.
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" His eyes never left the ground. Most others seemed interested in the sky, gesticulating with its few empty clouds for a word on the matter of time remaining; the days or seconds left before the ember of our sun burned final. But this man cared little of what was happening above him, the noise of it all, devices and technologies directed at rather acute angles towards the fading light, flinching never at an explosion or incantation that sent the Earth for a moment from its axis.\n \n He had arrived in a dainty saucer, manned alone and rusted at the hinges that released a small platform to meet the ground. Peculiar of stride, he was otherwise an ordinary elder looking man; grey-bearded, top-receded, hairy eared and nosed with a sunken jaw and sunken flesh beneath his eyes commensurate to the way in which his shoulders fell toward the floor as he walked. The gait he adorned himself with served the man with a trudge that fell short only above his feet, cantering if not for the rest of his body that hunkered from the ship. Despite the transparent rifts in the heavy atmosphere, lines of black smoke coming up from the fogged horizon, and the clamor of competition weaving a tension through the air to be quickly severed by the old man’s ignorance toward the reason for it all, he strode somehow with his gait behind him while a smile came slow to his eyes upon reaching the grass he had chosen to land on. \n\n Five minutes and he was gone. Not much had changed during his visit. The day appeared no darker and most dwelling in the sky missed his coming and going altogether. What had happened could have just as easily not had happened and only a few would have lived those five minutes slightly differently, with eyes laid over an empty field of yellow poppies rather than one holding a peculiar man with a peculiar gait who had traveled for three years upon learning that the Earth’s sun was nearing its end. Those few would have only missed the sight of him, walking at a measured pace to carefully gather a handful of flowers with their roots still attached before returning by the same measured speed to where he had come from, the ship’s interior creaking to seal behind a slow-moving door rising to meet a set of orange hinges, before returning furthermore to a home not entirely unlike our own.\n\t\n"
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[WP] You are startled awake in the middle of the night. When you open your eyes, there is an unfamiliar face right next to you. They simply whisper, "It's time."
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"I’d always had vivid dreams, many of which were recurring. The strangest by far, however, was the one with the Man in Black.\n\nThat’s what I called him when I first told my Mom and Dad about the dreams. I was six, and had excitedly reported to my parents that I had been visited by someone in my sleep. He’d told me I was important, that I was special. That he was depending on me.\n\nThey thought it was cute at first, but as I consistently had dreams about the Man in Black for the next five years of my life, my parents began to worry. Not just about the recurring dream itself, but also my reaction to it. They could in my voice and my eyes that I trusted the Man in Black. I often spoke of how excited I was for the day he came for me, for the day I was called upon.\n\nWhen I was 12 I was taken to a psychiatrist. My parents believed the dreams and my delusions concerning them were, at best, a cry for help, and at worst a sign of some kind of disorder. The psychiatrist listen to my eager recounting of the dreams, and the slightly different conversations I had with the Man in Black every time. It intrigued him, but he didn’t think it was anything serious. Just a boy with a wild creativity and a powerful imagination.\n\nThe psychiatrist spent a large amount of time discussing the concept of reality, and the power of our unconscious minds. His words distracted me, grounded me, from the experiences of my dreams. I learned to ignore them, as immersing myself in the fantasy of being supernaturally important only closed me off from the rest of the waking world. The dreams became less frequent, and I stopped bothering to remember them once I woke up.\n\nAfter a few years of forcibly ignoring the dreams, I stopped having them; almost forgot entirely about them, but occasionally I would wake up thinking my parents were mad at me. They never actually were and the feeling always passed quickly, but there was always a twist in my gut that told me I was failing to do something important.\n\nJunior year of high school was rough for me. I’d always had a little trouble fitting in, but when my father passed away untimely, I retreated into myself.\n\nThat’s when the dreams started again. At first I was scared, and I could tell the Man in Black was disappointed in me. More so than that, however, he was relieved. He was happy to see me. He told me he didn’t know what he would have done if I’d never come back. He assured me I was important. I was special.\n\nI kept the dreams a secret this time. I knew nobody would understood.\n\nFinally, one night, I was startled awake in the middle of the night. My bedroom door was open, and a man stood there, silhouetted by the hallway light. “It’s time,” he told me.\n\nI was afraid, but also confidant. I was bored with my current life anyways. I was ready for something more.\n\nI always knew he’d come for me, and I smiled as I left.\n\nr/TheCornerStories"
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[WP] You are stranded in year 1515 in the middle of Aztec Empire, equipped only with your smartphone that has copy of Wikipedia site. It's still 4 years until Spanish conquest, and it's time for you to rewrite history and prevent the destruction of entire civilization
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"I struggled to free myself from the soldiers holding me down on top of the stone altar, the sun burning high overhead. I kept screaming \"No! I didn't want to kill them! I didn't know!\" But everyone there ignored me.\n\nThe priest--in colorful, ceremonial garb, took the dagger off the dais beside the altar, and gripped it in his hand. He looked at me, a stern anger radiating from his face as he lifted the knife above his head, to plunge it into my chest.\n\nI stopped screaming, accepting my fate, and turned my head to look down the steps of the pyramid and onto the people below. Most of them were already dead or dying. The few who could stand made sure to stand as far away from me as possible. \n\n--------------------\n\nThe time machine had worked, in a sense. I was transported in time, yes, but instead of jumping ahead by an hour, I was sent back several hundred years. Also, while the machine accounted for earth's orbit and the sun's position in the galactic plane, it didn't account for Earth's rotation, and so instead of ending up in Perth, Australia, I ended up in a primitive stone city somewhere in South America. At least I didn't end up in an ocean somewhere.\n\nI had my smart phone with me, and, since I could think of nothing else to do, I used it to try to stop the Spanish conquest by warning the local people there of what was coming--war and disease. However, the language difference made it nearly impossible for those around me to understand me. Also, I looked *weird* to them, me being a pasty white scientist to their ruddy skinned farmers or soldiers. I was reguarded as an \"outsider\", and while no one treated me with open hostility, people generally made sure to treat me with caution. They definitely shied away from me when I pulled out this strange, glowing device whenever I used it to consult a particular fact.\n\nI tried drawing pictures to convey the message that the invaders were coming. I drew sailing ships, cannons, swords, skulls, bones, whatever I could think of to try to convince these people that something horrible was coming. My crude drawings were passed around and looked at, before people started giving me gold in exchange for these pictures.\n\nFor two years, I used everything in my imagination to try to warn them of the coming apocalypse. I moved from city to city, desperately begging people to listen to what I was trying to tell them, but no one understood me. I noticed that whenever I visited a particular city more than once, that there were less people there to greet me. I finally used the gold I was given to purchase a small house, a place to at least lay my head in between traveling and spreading the bad news. What I didn't realize is that I had also been spreading something else.\n\nThey kicked down the door of my house one night and roughly grabbed me off of my bed, screaming in their incomprehensible language while others pointed their clubs at me. I could see the sections of sharp obsidian that had been forced into these clubs in the torch light. A crowd of people stood outside my modest house, holding more torches--some screaming, others talking, others standing silently to watch the spectacle. Almost all of them had a strange cough every now and then--a wet, mucous cough that startled me. The crowd parted as the soldiers--dessed in their war clothing, with strange helmets depicting birds and all manner of beasts and fish on their heads--dragged me through the street towards what I deduced was their jail. I could also see the rows of sick people lining the street outside the local doctor's house. That's when I realized what was happening.\n\nWherever I went, people started getting sick. Then, they started dying. The cities I had come to and gone from had been emptied by the myriad diseases my body carried and fought off as part of its normal routine. The people around me had no such immunity to the diseases I had inadvertently brought with me from several hundred years in the future. I started begging, pleading to the soldiers dragging me into their jail that I didn't mean to kill them; that it was all a mistake. No one listened as I was thrown in a hole to await my fate.\n\n---------------------\n\nAs the priest's knife plunged into my chest and started to carve around my heart, my last realization was that, rather than saving this civilization from ruin, I had only hastened its end."
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[WP] It's an annual tradition for you and your dopplegangers from parallel dimensions to have dinner. Despite coming from the same basic background, you live quite different lives because of your choices. It's your turn to host this year.
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"I stood at the head of the dining room table, looking at myself. And myself. And myself. Times ten. It was my turn to give the toast, being the host of the year.\n\nI raised my crystal, sparkling champagne toward the ceiling. “To Richard! Thank you Rich, Rick, Dick, Ricky, Dicky, Ricardo, and all of my other guests. May fortune forever be in our favor.”\n\nAll of the Richards raised their glasses and cheered. “Speech! Speech! Speech!”\n\nWe all took a swig of our alcohol, then I continued. “It’s been a long, successful life. We’ve lost a few brothers to the vagaries of fate... but overall, Richard is a hardy old boy.” Everyone cheered and took swigs of champagne.\n\nI continued: “I’ve had a long time to think over our parallel lives, and have come to a conclusion. We’re all part and parcel of the same being. I ask you all—why should we not *pool* our resources, and become a force to be reckoned with?” The Richards appeared confused. “Alone we are weak, but together, our power could be unimaginable. I propose we all stay together, and grab life by its dangling balls!”\n\nThe room erupted with applause. “But how will we all manage the same life?” Dick pondered.\n\n“We will be one person, with multiple personalities,” I replied.\n\n“We shall be schizos?” Rick asked.\n\n“This is no delusion, we will be the most powerful person, for who else in the word is able to multiply their intelligence ten-fold?”\n\nThe crowd of Richards saw no holes in my logic. “So I ask you brothers, who is with me!”\n\nThe crowd cheered, and drank a swig of alcohol. I filled thirsty glasses as everyone chatted about the new plan. We all agreed this was the new reality, so to speak.\n\nOur first goal was to become wealthy enough to quit our job. It was easy enough. Being computer coders, we were able to develop a new website that was a combination of Tinder and Facebook. We called it The Infinite Kiss App, and it was downloaded to death, until we had to hire more Richards from other dimensions. \n\nOur business grew, and we expanded our digital empire without limitations. We separated to different countries, in order to avoid arousing suspicion. It was a wonderful scheme, and I felt more self-actualized than ever before.\n\nOn the eve of our next app unveiling, the Richards reconvened to share stories and spread good cheer. \n\n“Richards,” I commanded, “What say you? Are we not a great success?”\n\nCheers abounded. Many high-fives were given.\n\n“We are greater than the sum of our parts,” Dick said. He had a wide smile, and rubbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. \n\nI ran my fingers through my hair, and flashed a pearly smile to my compatriots. “Some say it’s a flawed type of relationship, but it is what we all are in.”\n\n“Bromance!” Ricky yelled.\n\n“Bromance! Bromance! Bromance!” Everyone cheered. \n\nIt was the anniversary of the beginning of our bromance, and that, I thought, was something to be thankful for."
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[WP] Challenge: a man slowly falling into insanity in his apartment decides to keep a journal to log his thoughts, but becomes fixated on one object or phrase from the first entry over the course of the story.
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"Guitar. Guitar. Everyday, he plays his guitar. It's the only way to keep him sane. His sad excuse of a job, an office occupation, keeps him up from 7 to 6. He then comes home, writes in his journal, and then plays his guitar. There is generally a small crowd by the base of his apartment, listening to the Heavenly music flowing down from the building. They dance, they laugh, they have fun. None realize that the originator of the sounds is using it to consolate himself.\nUntil one day, a knock comes from his front door.\nThe man stops playing, and goes to open the door. He is met with a group of people, all smiling at him, who then shout, \"Merry Christmas!\" before all talking over one another. The man now realized the date, and faced with this, he starts crying, smiling, laughing, for the first time in years. ",
" December 9th 2017\n\nI’ve no idea what I’m supposed to write in one of these things. Not sure why I even bought a journal. Or why I didn’t just wait until January to start. Who buys a journal when they can only write in a fraction of it? What kind of things should I be writing about? My day? My lunch? What was on TV? That bloody cat ornament seems like it’s staring at me. Like it knows I wont keep this up. “That thing’ll already be collecting dust this time next week. Just you wait.” I moaned at her for years for buying that ugly thing. She thought it was charming. She had a singular talent for seeing something where everyone else saw nothing. Now here I am, stuck with this thing just watching me, day in day out. Maybe I’ll turn it around at least. Those little eyes. I feel them on me no matter where I am in the room. I miss her. She always had a way of looking at the world that made me more curious. I don’t feel curious anymore. I don’t feel much. Maybe I’ll turn it around.\n\n​\n\nDecember. 10th 2017\n\nWhy’s there never anything on TV these days? It’s all people shouting at each other. Even the news. News used to be just facts. This happened there. No one can agree on even that much anymore, seems like. That bloody cat. It’s looking at me again. I turned it around yesterday but I didn’t think about the photo behind it. A photo of us. We were on a cruise in the Mediterranean. It wasn’t long before we found out. It was still good then. She had that black dress on that she loved. Now the beady little eyes of that cat are being reflected in the glass over the dress and they’re looking at me again. Why can’t I escape this bloody cat? I’ll move it this time. I don’t like the way it talks to me. It really thinks it’s better than me. It probably is, but I still don’t like it.\n\n​\n\nDecember 11th 2017\n\nI had to nip to the shops today. I spoke to George for a few minutes while he was dealing with customers. It was nice. We didn’t talk about much and what we did talk about was half nonsense. He gets animated when you bring up politics. I don’t really care about all that. Politics are for people with a future. But I bring it up and let him go on about it for a while. It’s good to hear a voice that’s not coming from the TV or from my own head. The cat’s still where it was yesterday. I picked it up to move it and all at once I was hit with a feeling of utter dread. Like I was about to make a huge mistake. The little fucker had the temerity to laugh when I sat it back down. Maybe I’ll get a hammer today. Not that I’ll do anything, but just to give it some doubts perhaps. It’s been an otherwise good day. When I woke up I lay with my eyes closed and for a blissful moment I could swear that I could feel her weight next to me on the mattress. It went away quickly but I lay there for a good forty minutes, trying to get it back. I better go into town tomorrow. I need to get a new bottle of her perfume. It’s almost empty. I spray it everywhere she used to be. Her side of the bed, her place on the sofa, her clothes in the wardrobe. It makes me feel like I’m not alone. The cat’s looking at me.\n\n​\n\nDecember 12th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 13th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 14th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 15th 2017\n\nHa! See? You little bastard. I didn’t give up, did I? I bet you were so pleased with yourself because I didn’t write in this for a few days. Thought your little prediction was right. I didn’t feel like writing in this for the past few days. It’s been rough. I couldn’t find her perfume anywhere. The lady at the counter told me they hadn’t had it in months. She couldn’t even promise me that they’d be able to get it back in. It was all I had left. Photos and memories are nice, but when I lay there, beside her pillow, and I could smell *her*… I don’t know what I’ll do now. Of course, this little shit has been gloating about it. He, I think it’s a he, has even started turning the rest of them against me. That nice man on the show I watch in the mornings. He looked me straight in the eye yesterday and told me I had killed her. That fucking cat put him up to it. He must have.\n\n​\n\nDecember 16th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 17th 2017\n\nIt’s getting worse. I overheard the cat scheming with the clock. They were whispering about how they want me dead. I want me dead too, but I’ll be damned if I let a fucking ornament and a timepiece do me in. I don’t know what to do about them. I don’t know how many more there are. How many have the roped in? How many have they poisoned against me? I want to smash his stupid little face in. That face that drew her in. The smell of perfume in the house is getting really faint now. I have to take big whiffs of the pillow to get anything, but even then it smells more musty than anything else. I haven’t washed it since she died. I tried looking in the internet. It’s been years since I’ve used a computer and even then it couldn’t do the things it can do now. She was the savvy one of the two of us. She even had a twitter. She only made seventeen twits but it was seventeen more than me. I opened the Internet Explorer and there was her twitter page. Her words. Suddenly it was her voice that I could hear, instead of that stupid cat. She never said much in those twits, but every word was wonderful. I didn’t find anything about the perfume. I got confused, then frustrated, then I turned the computer off. I wasn’t made for technology and it wasn’t made for me. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.\n\n​\n\nDecember 18th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 19th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 20th 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 21st 2017\n\n​\n\nDecember 22nd 2017\n\nI’m writing this in bed. I daren’t go downstairs. They’re all there. I can hear them from here. They don’t even bother to whisper anymore. Practically shouting now. I think they want me to hear it. The cat, the clock, the sofa, the kettle, the fridge, my coat. My own bloody coat. I’ve been here since yesterday morning, too scared to leave the room. I’m so hungry. I need the toilet. I near wet myself earlier. The toilet’s downstairs. They’re laughing at what an idiot I am. That I’m afraid of furniture. “Why doesn’t he just kill himself?” “I would if I were as pathetic as him.” “He’s a coward, he always has been.” “She knew that too. Why she killed herself.” That’s a bloody lie. She’d never.\n\n​\n\nDecember 23rd 2017\n\nI’m still in bed. I’m starving. I’m so thirsty. I had some water but that ran out yesterday. I can’t contact anyone. The phone’s downstairs with them. I don’t even know who I’d call. They’ve been down there calling everyone I know telling them all kinds of nasty things about me. I hear them. “He’s never liked you. He only put up with you for her sake.” The devious little shits. I need to get out of this room. I need to. I’m scared. It’ll be Christmas in two days. The first. I try not to think about it. They’re talking about how they’ll do it tonight. Do what? I have to get out of here.\n\n​\n\nDecember 24th\n\n​\n\nDecember 25th\n\n​\n\nDecember 26th \n\n​\n\nDecember 27th\n\n​\n\nDecember 28th\n\n​\n\nDecember 29th\n\n​\n\nDecember 30th\n\n​\n\nDecember 31st ",
"A new journal for his birthday in October. *I started writing as soon as the sun came up; what a glorious, unexpected day. I've never seen such colours... the trees are like giant bouquets of flowers, and the sun is a perfect golden ball, a plaything for a child deity,* he wrote, sitting by the nearby duckpond. He'd forgotten to bring food for the birds; it was alright, he'd remember next week.\n\nIn November, he was a little late leaving the house. At a secluded booth in his local coffee shop, he wrote, *The days are getting shorter; I'm sure the sun was an hour late rising, this morning,* but he felt much better after a flat white coffee and a scone. He couldn't eat the jam--just for a second, it looked like blood--he scraped it off and enjoyed the rest of his snack.\n\nDecember was a little darker, a little colder. *I thought the sun would* never *come up, this morning,* he wrote; the sound of the pen against paper was unsettling. He couldn't figure out what was wrong. *I'll go for my walk tomorrow,* he wrote. He spent all of December in his apartment. \n\nThe first day of the next month, he started writing the first thing that came into his head; the pen scratch, scratch, scratched, but he was determined to finish an entry as he wrote, *It's still dark outside, but I know the sun will come up soon.* It was the kind of January almost universally dreaded: colder than the previous 10 Januaries, dark until noon each day, with a damp chill that soaked into your bones and left your skeleton feeling like ice. \n\nHe shivered as he wrote what seemed to be his longest entry to date, describing the day; when he was done, he realised that he'd lost more than 2 hours writing 100 words, but at least the sun was up, now. He added that, too; *At least the sun is up, now;* and then he crawled into bed and slept until the next day.\n\nIn February, he started with a question: *I don't understand why it's still dark outside.* That February was unseasonably warm, and for 28 days in a row, the cloudless, cerulean of the sky was visible in the early morning. *I hope the sun comes up soon,* he wrote, chewing on the end of his pen, and finally falling asleep at the table.\n\nIn March, he almost gave up hope. Then he remembered daylight savings time, and wrote, *Even if the sun doesn't come up today, they'll fix it next month. Next month, the clocks will spring forward and grab it and make it rise...* and then he didn't write anything else for weeks.\n\nIn April, he wrote: *Foiled. Sun still hiding. Where?* and didn't sleep for more than 2 hours at any one time. It was rainy, as befits April--but there was one stretch of 10 clear, flawlessly sunny days, right in the middle of the month. \n\nIn May, he broke down and called an old friend. He read out his journal entry: *No sun for days now, maybe weeks, maybe months. WHO HAS TAKEN IT? Why won't they give it back?* and when his friend showed up at midday, to argue that the sun was right there all along, he saw how his tears had smudged the writing, turning his words into dirty grey puddles on a blue-lined background. *Gone, like the sun,* he sobbed, until his friend rang for help. \n\nIn June, the only use for his pen--stolen from the nurses' station--was to try to cut through the veins of his wrist. The longest day of the year, and he still couldn't see the sun. \n\nIn July, bandages loosened slightly, medication and muscle damage making him sloppy, he scribbled, *\"Can't see the sun; maybe it still exists. Will collect more data, like the doctors do. Science!\"* \n\nAugust was the most terrifying month so far. That was the month he began to understand. *The sun was there all along: where was* I *?* No one could tell him. He cried, and slept for most of August. \n\nIn September, he went outside willingly. Sitting next to the hospital duck pond, he wrote, *Sunrise was incandescent, today. The sky itself was like an endless rainbow, lit up from within, and soft orange rays warmed me to my bones. No way to get food to the ducks; that's alright. I'll remember next week, when I'm out.*\n\nAnd he did."
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[WP] an extracurricular civilization from another dimension just visited earth to stop humanity from annihilation
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"They just wanted to play sports. But zingera was not a sport that could abide by the destruction of its parallel civilization. You see, the sport was played using interdimensional travel. Two teams of 5 would stand within portion of the playing field and use dimensional rift prodders to hit a ball through a rift to end up where another teammate present. The opposing team would try and steal the ball by guessing the appropriate time to open a rift and intercept it. This sport was the basis of the Tergillian society. Everyone played it. There were clubs in every city, and in every town.\n\nThe extracurricular zingera club of Sertoya Highschool had just caught a glimpse through one of the dimensional rifts. This was rare but still happened every couple of years.\n\nWhat they saw horrified them, the collapse of our civilization was seen through the rift. Being the highschoolers that they were, they decoded they must take matters into their own hands.\n\nSeeing as interdimensional travel was banned, the club snuck into the rift shed after hours and, using the rift prodders in unison, opened a rift big enough to fit through. They dove in to save us from annihilation. This was our first meeting with the tergillians. They saved us from the dimensional collapse that would have destroyed us. The extracurricular civilization lives on as heros in our legends, and until we are able to rift-jump like them and are able to repay them. we will remember their kindness."
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[WP] Science has officially halted the natural aging process; but death still finds a way.
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"So yeah I’m the bad guy, well sorta, kinda maybe I have killed a bunch of humans, it’s my job, just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I’m evil, it’s not like I’m a lawyer. I have quotas like anyone else, only mine are number of deaths per month, rather than things sold or anything.\n\nMy job gets harder, first it was easy, the humans didn’t know that eating poison was lethal, but they figured out that, then they learn healthy eating and excercise, then they invent antibiotics and vaccines. Now though they have stopped aging, which aint fair, my boss is giving me deep hell about my monthly numbers and they stop dying naturally! \n\nSo now I have to bend the rules, to edit settings, cheat, a little, just a little. Well a lot, increasing cancer, that’s easy to hide, they live longer so they have longer to develop it, increased war casualties, again nice and easy to hide. But now I am deep in the dev tools, weakening bones, reducing grip of skin, making water more slippery, things like that, I think my boss is cottoning on, my numbers are holding just."
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Humans are seen as a threat/an extremely useful civilization to enslave.
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[WP]There are two realms of existence-the physical and the mental. Most intelligent life resides in the latter. Humans are an exception-they live in both,entering the mental world through dreams. Hospitals contain the greatest and most relentless Earth defenders and generals known-comatose patients.
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"Grace woke with a start with bright lights in her eyes and the smell of cleaning chemicals. She was confused, this is not where she went to bed the night before. As her blurry vision becomes clear she finds she is in a hospital bed, tubes attached to her, and the sound of machines beeping.\n\nHas she looks around she can see a face staring at her in shock. It is an old man, grey and wrinkled with age. A nurses begin to rush around not believing what is happening before them.\n\n“Grace?” the old man says.\n\n“Roger?” Grace, not quite believing that her loving husband is this wrinkled old man. When the last time she saw him he was young and not so grey-haired. Had it really been that long since she was here? She had just gone to sleep, but that was in the Other Earth she remembered. Where she was a hero, a revered general to eyes of the Other. ",
"I didn't have any memory of the accident, nor nearly being crushed by the semi-trailer. One minute I was driving to work, and the next I remember becoming aware of a man standing next to me in a dark room. As my senses came back to me, I also became aware that I was standing next to myself lying in a medical bed. My brain started to buzz with questions and doubts, but it was interrupted when the man started to speak to me.\n\n\"Relax, bud. It's just like it looks. Your body is there and you're lookin' at it and that's okay.\" I stood there, slack-jawed, but he said it so matter-of-factly that I caused me to accept it immediately. I still had a hundred questions, but the man was already speaking again. \"You've been in a coma for a few weeks and, while your mind has repaired itself, your body isn't doin' great. What you are experiencing right now is what civies call astral projection. Basically, your mind is tired of waiting for your body to get with the program, so it has decided to leave and check back later.\"\n\nNow it was my turn. What the hell?? Am I going to die? Are you some kind of angel of death here to bring me to the next life? I don't even believe in that shit! What happ-\" He cuts you off \"Woah woah woah...don't come at me like that. I'm just here to retrieve you and bring you in for orientation. We need you and we hope you'll help us out. It's not like you have anything else to do, frankly. Now travel is easy when you don't have a body, but you have to already know the place you're going, so I'm going to bring you the first time. I'm kinda in a hurry, so I'm sorry to be rude.\"\n\nThe man reached out and grabbed my shoulder as the world started to warp and spin in incomprehensible ways. Just when I thought the universe around me was knotted so hard it would snap, it started to unbend itself, but it wasn't the same anymore. The man and I were now standing on a huge concrete pad in the middle of what appeared to be a military base. It was overgrown and run-down but there were people everywhere. He brought me over to a group of people who looked just as confused as I did - some were old, some were young. \"Fall in, recruits! It's time for you to find out what all this is about and what you can do about it!\" There was a man who looked and sounded comically like the drill sergeant from *Full Metal Jacket.* I turned around to ask what was going on, but the man was already gone, without even having told me his name.\n\nOver the next few weeks, I would come to learn that the world I knew, the flesh and blood and metal world, was only the tip of a very large iceberg. Apparently, aliens did exist! But most life in the universe had already evolved past the physical plane and only existing on another, ethereal plane that they called the Ether. Humans were unique in the fact that, since time immemorial, we had existed in both planes, entering the Ether as we dreamed. Some humans had become so accustomed to this plane that they could enter it at will, traveling the world with ease as their body sat somewhere else.\n\nThis split existence gave humans the ability to manifest amazing powers within the Ether. Instead of having to construct vehicles and ships with ethereal matter, a skilled person could conjure up the thing out of thin air. This was done through sheer willpower and holding the complete idea of the thing you wanted in your mind, down to the smallest detail. The more detailed the design in your head, the stronger and more robust the object would be. People could also conjure effects into existence, but these were much harder. You couldn't just conjure lightning, you had to hold the understanding of what the lighting was and how it was supposed to affect the world around it as it traveled. And, of course, you had to have the will to call it into being.\n\nMy training was two parts. The first was to understand what I was best at. The second was to teach me why I needed to find out. As it turned out, I was very good at traveling vast distances very quickly. Most people could travel to a place they had been to before, but I was able to use my mind and search places out, blazing through the Ether at speeds most people couldn't start to reach, so I was moved into the recon group. There, I found out why all of this mattered.\n\nIn the universe at large, Humanity was seen as a critical threat. Our ability to manifest matter and power within the Ether was seen as an aberration to the natural order. I mean...it *was* basically witchcraft. This had lead to a full-scale war against Humanity. We had constructed defenses around Earth which were so immense and powerful the mind could barely conceive of it. But we were trapped, stuck on Earth, unable to get very far outside our defenses before being hunted down and forced to return to our bodies or face the prospect of energy-death. Which, of course, would result in our bodies being pretty useless back in the physical plane.\n\nMy role now was to move fast and quiet, out past the defenses and past the blockades of alien creatures to find a way to free humanity from its unknowing imprisonment on Earth. Maybe we would find other powerful beings like us that existed in both worlds who would come to our aid. Maybe we would find an isolated planet somewhere, hidden from the search parties of our enemies, where we could make a foothold. Or maybe it would be something completely unknown which would be our salvation. All I knew now was that I was damn excited to get out there and find out what the universe held in store for me."
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[WP] “The good always die so young!” You apologise for their loss before turning back to celebrate your 200th birthday.
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"\"Ive seen many people that deserve the chance to see the times that change and how they could've also changed it. I always keep them in mind with everything I do even the ones I never encountered. Reading about the accidents, things that could be prevented and the decision of others that end the lives of kids, mothers and men. It saddens me greatly that I am just one person having seeing all this go by. Its all the same. Every morning. Every night. Every minute. Every hour. Its all the same. To wake up and sleep oh but sometimes the thought of death is so sweet. I cry for it. I'm envious of it and it saddens me all at the same time. Everyone here has a choice or has a destiny while I have an endless path of time. Never ending. Always the same faces upon faces upon daylight and night. Oh the sweet release of this prison!!.......But please everyone i want to raise a toast to all that have lost their lives very young and very promising and yet another attempt to end my life for the 108th year in a row please everyone cheers.\"\n\n\"Cheers.\" And with one synchronize swig of their drinks everyone clapped and cheered on the birthday celebration while two worn out men filled their glasses once more with alcohol they hoarded from the party and sat by themselves in the back of the venue.\n\n\"My god I hate coming to his parties he always makes it depressing and attempts to kill himself every year. Ok i get youre tired of living but Damn stop guilt tripping me for being able to die!\" \n\n\"Can you imagine having to live that long though? It must suck being lonely like that --\"\n\n\"Dude I'm his third generation nephew he has family and friends he just doesn't want to be around them because it reminds him he can't die. He even calls my 'my child' not even my name just 'my child?!\" \n\n\"You know if you don't like you're uncle why even come here to HIS birthday party?\"\n\n\"Free food and drinks duh-- oooh ssh shh here he comes.\"\n\n\"My child please come give me a hug.\" With open arms and a smile the birthday boy with a glide in his step came to the table to finally greet his guests.\n\n\"Hi uncle Matt happy birthday.\"\n\n\"Uncle Matt?! My child please just call me Matthew you know there's just not enough time with people like you to use such formalities with me. Haha.. Oh but look at you...age looks so well for you. You know my sister would've been so proud to see her family thriving. I believe when we do die we are able to connect with the previously dead as well please if you just so happen to pass on at any moment tell my sister, mother and father I do love them dearly. Oh the privilege you have of death is a beautiful one. Seeing everyone by me, it just breaks my heart knowing it might be the last time I see them and I can never join them.......but please stay after so we can catch up but if you just so happen to leave again one more hug? I don't want this to be the last time I see you alive and not have at least one proper good bye it saddens me when I can never say good bye. And also enjoy the party.\" And with one more hug he was off yet again to mingle with the rest of the guest.\n\n\"Yeah its Steven by the way...\" The young man said as he made his way back to his table watching his uncle continuously greet others in the same fashion.\n\n\"Yeah ok i can see how you can get a little annoyed with him if thatz the way he talks...\" His friend said as he filled thier cups\n\n\"Every time its 'my child is aging, if you die, you're death privilege, and please give the dead a message for me when you do die. You can't really talk to him with out him mentioning how lucky you are to die. He always talks about death. Honestly I'm gonna get alcohol poisoning out of spite.\"\n\nWith a chuckle and a rise of their glasses\n\n \"cheers to death.\" \n \n\n"
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[WP] the fey have made a claim on ireland and britain. the two nations break out the cold iron. its time for war
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"\n\n\"It should have been easy. One troll stealing kids, near a major human military base. Why did they bloody not tell us there would be redcaps? Now here I am, upside down in vines, my team dead, with only you three to talk to.\"\n\nThe three in question happened to be fey. Pixies to be exact. Harmless, but with a thing for jokes and beig over dramatic. The tallest, standing a full 1' 7\" let out a laugh. \"At least you have all your fingers. Why do you think they captured you fine sir?\" \n\n\"Blast if I have a clue. Torture, interogation, a little entertainment before supper. Who knows?\"\n\nOne of the pixes flopped back, into the classic fairytale fainting pose with a sigh \" Oh, it's so wonderfully tragic! He doesn't remember. He doesn't know!\"\n\n\"Don't know wha-- HEY!\" The large stoney hand of a troll slapped the prisoner's back, sending him into a wide swing.\n\n\"Homans on way to rescue. Need move prisioner.\" \n\n\"Awwwww.\"\n\n\"No awws. Time go before they bring the iron to kill us.\"\n\nWith little ceremony the troll hoists the captured soldier over his soldier and begins to trundle away, a few redcaps joining the procession to guard it. The fey and captive draw near to a crumbled stone arch, then the rough stuff started. A dozen arrows shot from the bushes plunged into the troll, it hollered in pain as the body faded into a dry ash. The redcaps dashed off to fight, sickles gleaming in the evening sun. From the arch came many more fey to defend the portal. Hags and nymphs burst out first, with giant spiders and other beasts close behind. Our intrepid hero, now finding himself with a chance to escape began to crawl toward a bush. It would have worked perfectly, had that bush not been the hiding spot of the three blasted pixies. Needless to say the laughter gave him away right quick, and two more troll swiftly came to collect him.\n\n\"Ho now then. Don' be wandrein off. Da lord wants a wurd with ye.\"\n\nKicking and thrashing the soldier fought for his life against the trolls, as he was slowly pulled through the arch he saw his comrades break through the trees, spears coated in blood and shields dented by powerful blows. Alas it was too late, as his head snapped through to the other side his fellow soldiers lost sight of him. \n\n\"Call for backup. The filthy fay have one of ours, so now we'll take the fight to them.\"\n\n"
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[WP] “Santa” is actually a colony of humanoid ants that harvest naughty children for their queen to eat.
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"Hi u/IAmNotBannedFromWPs, this submission has been removed.\n\n[**No explicitly sexual responses, hate speech, or other harmful content**](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_2.3A_no_explicitly_sexual_responses.2C_hate_speech.2C_or_other_harmful_content)\n\n- The mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel is harmful to the community. This includes, but is not limited to any forms of hate speech, racism, politics, necrophilia, pedophilia, bestiality, incest, torture, rape, violence against children, and suicide. We will not tolerate it. \n\n *Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))*\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a76iem/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] You go to bed one night after a pretty normal day. You wake up to find the power is out, a layer of dust coats the room, and flabbergasted archaeologists studying the ancient remains of your living room.
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"It had been an exhausting day. Typical for the season, but exhausting. You’d think being the boss would make things easier, but you can only delegate so much. On top of it all, I felt like I was coming down with something. A splitting headache had been plaguing me all day and now, after a scorching day in the sun, it was almost unbearable. I made a mental note to call for the doctor first thing in the morning.\n\nI crawled into bed, alone at last with my thoughts still racing. Construction was going well, but we were at least another three years from completion. The architects were complaining about the engineers making changes to the plans, and the engineers complaining about unreasonable architects with grandiose and impractical designs. It never ended. Now the masons were demanding more workers, never considering that fewer, healthier, and stronger might be more productive than cheap, sick and plentiful. They knew better to argue with me, but their thoughts were practically transparent: “But sir, we have an endless supply of cheap migrant labor! Why pay for workers when we don’t have to?”\n\nAnd the painters, oh the painters! I certainly appreciate an attention to detail, but these guys were so full of themselves they thought their farts didn’t smell. Always the same excuses: “We can’t build the next room until the first one is fully painted!” They blathered on and on, something about the dust and the paint mixing in the air, I lost interest after three seconds. “Surely, sir, you want the rooms to be perfect?” I supposed nothing should surprise me by now. To think that after hundreds of thousands of man-hours of construction gone exceedingly well, only to find out the only thing holding up deadlines are painters – it was enough to make even the boss question the entire project!\n\nMy exhaustion quickly took hold of me and I fell fast asleep, and I slept like the dead.\n\n…\n\n“Chief! Chief! Look at this!”\n\nHoward ducked through the doorway. “Whatcha got for me, Pierre?” Finding the hidden doorway had been quite the surprise. The old building had been around for centuries and was considered to have been fully mapped and explored decades ago. If it hadn’t been for the earthquake that revealed some new cracks in the plaster, who knows how long the chamber would have remained hidden?\n\n“We’re in some sort of living room, it looks completely untouched! It’s dusty, but even the paint looks perfect!”\n\nSurveying the room with his flashlight, Howard marveled at the room before him. “I can’t believe this room has been here all this time and we haven’t noticed. It must be thousands of years old, and looks completely untouched!”\n\n“Chief, there’s more, look at this!” Pierre turned his flashlight onto an unmistakable object.\n\nHoward paused, not wanting to believe his own eyes. “H-h-hand me a brush,” he stammered.\n\nThe gold sparkled in the reflected light as he dusted off centuries of neglect.\n\n…\n\nMy eyes were still shut as I awoke to what sounded like more construction – back to reality! It sounded like stones were being dragged right above me. At least my headache was gone. My eyes felt crusted from heavy sleep and my vision was obscured. And the bed sheets! I couldn’t remove the bedsheets! My hands were wrapped up and I struggled to clear the sleep from my eyes.\n\n“I could use a little help!” I tried to say, calling to my servants, but my mouth was so dry it was more of a rumbled moan. I sat up. There was a bright light I could barely see through the sheets still wrapped around my head.\n\n…\n\nHoward and Pierre could scarcely contain their excitement. The gold trim, the incredible artistry, this was the find of the century. “Help me remove the cover,” Howard said.\n\nThey pushed the top off and lowered the cover to the ground. Howard directed his flashlight to the man lying inside. He had lain there, unmolested, for centuries. “This changes everything,” he whispered to Pierre.\n\nWithout warning, something inside moved and Howard jumped back. “What the hell!” he exclaimed. It must be an insect, he thought. There were no tiny footprints in the dust that would suggest rodents.\n\nThe slow moan caught them completely by surprise. They both gasped as a dark figure sat up from inside the container. Surely, surely this was impossible!\n\nThe mummy had been awakened."
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[WP] A time traveler gets absolutely wasted at a party, and goes on a bender across eras. He wakes up in the 15th century next to a dinosaur and Gordon Ramsey.
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"\"Wake up you fucking lunatic!\"\n\nI hear as I jolt awake. Screams of pain and a familiar sounding yell resonate to the left of me. I see, unmistakably, Gordon Ramsey attempting to wrestle with a small dinosaur, fiercly nipping at him. \n\n\"Well don't just stand around with your thumbs up your arse, bloody kill this thing!\" \n\nNot having time to think about how I even got here, I yank a gun that is older than me out of my pocket, probably stolen by me off of some wild west gunslinger during the series of events that lead me here. Gordon slapped the small reptile off his bloodied face and kicked the dinosaur into the air, the dino flumping to the ground as it leapt back up onto its feet.\n\nBefore it can sink its tiny teeth into Gordon's chops again, I firmly squeeze the trigger of my pilfered pistol and land 2 of the 6 shots I had in my gun, the dinosaur's neck and brain thoroughly splattered across the sand. \n\n\"Fuck sakes, was that necessary? Goddamn I should be furious with you right now considering the shite you put me through the last few hours. Well fuck it, help me skin this thing, might as well be the first people to eat fuckin' dinosaur, cause it looks like we're gonna be here a while.\" Gordon ranted.\n\nI didn't even want to think how I ended up here, or even where I first went to in the time machine. Either way, having spotted the soldered remains of my ride home, I saw that Gordon was right, and handed him my penknife.",
"I wake up and roll forward. Several beer cans fall off of my chest with a loud tink noise as they plummet to the ground.\n\n“Fuck”, I think to myself. What the hell did I do last night? I lean forward and rub my head with a groan, the hangover blurring my vision.\n\nOutside the massive tent structure I spot what seems to be Gordon Ramsey through the rough hewn door scolding someone out of sight. “No, you put the fucking onions in first!”\n\nA snort to my left startles me and I glance in that direction. Throwing off the bear-like skins covering me I glance over at the source of the noise. A monstrous T-Rex lays back on a massive stone couch and glances at me with bone rimmed shades. It opens its maw and gestures outside the tent with its stubby forearms, “RawahrWarhGeoot?”\n\nI just stare at it dumbstruck. Fucking thing is speaking Wookie at me. Looking back out the door I catch a glimpse of Gordon taking a handle-less stone hammer and beating the brains out of an indescribable mammal while explaining, “The trick is...”\n\nI close my eyes and try to keep whatever I ate last night down while thinking to myself, “Fucking time travel.”",
"I woke up in a small teepee. Man, say what you will about Romans, but the people knew how to party. What a great way to celebrate New Years. I am surprised we still celebrate that. \n\nI look down at my clothes in tatters, and then look around the room. “Oh shit,” I think to myself. Drunken time travel is a Class 7 felony. It could get me ten thousand years in the void depending on the effects.\n\nIt is alright. If I just accidentally time traveled to whatever the fuck century this is, I should be fine.\n\n“No you fucking knobs. You need to slowly put the berries into the buffalo meat,” someone outside shouts.\n\n“Uh oh,” I think to myself.\n\nI wonder out to see Gordon Ramsey berating the indigenous tribe. \n\n“Well, there you are. Rise and shine you bloody moron!” Gordon shouts.\n\n“How did we get here?” I ask.\n\n“You showed up at midnight in my house. Drunk off your fucking rocks. Grabbed me in a force field and took me through time.” Gordon yelled “it was bumpy as hell. You strapped me to the top of the machine.”\n\n“The machine. Where is my machine?!?” I panic.\n\n“Over there.” Gordon points at a friggin triceratops destroying the machine.\n\n“Oh no.” Going to the time of the dinosaurs is incredibly popular. The time police must’ve seen me go there. Every time machine is programmed to launch a homing beacon if destroyed. The time police could be here at any point in time.\n\nA hole opens in the sky and a ship emerges from it and lands in the field. A tall man walks out. He pulls out a gun and captures the triceratops and Gordon in a stasis field. \n\n“You have made a great mistake.” He points the void transport beam. I close my eyes and prepare for the worst.\n\nI wake up in a room in front of a steel table with handcuffs on me.\n\n“What is happening?” I think to myself. The man walks in.\n\n“Hello.” He says.\n\n“Why am I not in the void?” I ask.\n\n“Well, when you went on a drunken rampage you did more than just kidnap a triceratops and a British chef.” The man says. “I just barely escaped the changes.” \n\n“What changes?” Oh no, damage of this level is eternal void.\n\n“The world is much different now because of you. We are the only two who remember. And my ship has a short lifetime. I decided to spare you because I could use a friend.” He explains.\n\n“Alright, are we back in our home time?” I ask.\n\n“Yes, come outside. The ball will soon drop.” He uncuffs me and takes me outside. We do the standard count with people who won’t know how the world has changed.\n\n“Happy 2019,” I say to my new comrade.\n\n“Happy 2019,” he replies with a smile.\n\n\n"
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[WP] you're creeping into someone's room to kill them, unfortunately tonight someone else had the same idea
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"# Crimson\n\nThe leather gloves on Crimson's hands grumbled as he unclenched his grip from the steering wheel. He straightened his posture, glanced down at his wristwatch, and resumed staring out the windshield at a wealthy property down the road. There was zero activity in this neighborhood past supper. It was an orderly gated community in the middle of a rich suburb. All of the hedges were trimmed to the same height, lawns freshly mowed and edged, fallen leaves had been blown into piles that were nothing short of perfection. He thought about how nice it must be to live far away from railroad tracks or the troubles that tagged along with lower ends of society. Glancing down at his wristwatch preiodically, he stared out the front windshield while the tinnitus in his ears and soft patter of rain against the car kept him company.\n\nCrimson ran his hand along the lock on his car door, ensuring it was still locked, and unscrewed the lid of a thermos sat snug between his thighs. He looked over at the lock on the passenger side door before taking a swig of the warm coffee spiked with whiskey from his stainless steel bottle. Reaching over and manually locking the passenger side door he said, \"That's not how I left you—or at least not how I thought I left you.\"\n\nLights in the estate began turning off in a staggered sequence until all the light that peeked around the curtains on the large pane windows were no longer. Crimson forced a smile before reaching into the reverse side of his winter coat pulling out a pill bottle. He looked up at the rearview mirror and adjusted it until he was staring directly into his own eyes and murmured \"Business as usual, lad.\"\n\nCrimson tilted his head back pouring his drink and pills into his open mouth at the same time. \"No more nonsense. This is the last one. Let's get the job done, and be out for good.\"\n\nWrinkles and a five o'clock shadow from three days prior filled his face. He unlocked the door and stepped outside. The ground was covered white and the air was laced of burnt firewood. He closed the car door, gently resting it shut. Snow crunched beneath his worn dress shoes as he adjusted the cuffs on his coat and proceeded toward the property. A trail of asphalt footsteps were left in the snow with each step he took, and the joints in his body ached from the frigid wind.\n\n\"A rich bird went out of her way to hire a company to kill the rich cunt she's tied the knot to. Of course, it's me day off, yeah?\"—Crimson's mumble turns to a whisper as he approaches an iron gate leading to the backyard of the property—\"Company phones me up on me mobile, says, 'hey knobhead, time to take out the trash' and now I'm working my last job on my last day off. Fuckin' hell.\"\n\nManeuvering his slender body like a snake, he got down on all fours and slid through the small gap under the large iron gate. He rose to his feet on the other side of the fence and wiped the snow off his clothes. Proceeding forward with caution, Crimson stepped over children's toys, strategically dodged patio furniture, and did his best to lurk in the shadows until reaching the back sliding glass door. He grinned.\n\nThe back door was unlocked—just as expected and planned. Crimson applied ample amount of force to slide the door open without detection and stepped inside.\n\n*I knew they said it would be easy for my final assignment, but I wasn't expecting to take candy from a baby. Or rather, money from an angry bird. Like they say, happy wife, happy Li—*\n\nTwo unmistakable clacks screamed in the night. Crimson drew his firearm.\n\n*What the fuck? I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. They done it. I knew they'd botch it up on an old geezer. I know I'm aged, but I still got value. Should've seen 'em trying to fuck me on the way out.*\n\nAnother loud unmistakable bang disrupted the now tense silence inside the home, but this one was closer. Crimson held his firearm with a firm grip, finger hovering the trigger at the ready. Slowing his breathing pattern, he moved toward the banister at the lower end of the staircase and remained still. Muddled whimpering was heard coming from upstairs, but Crimson remained patient. The whimper broke off into a wail where Crimson heard a boy yelling in anger.\n\nHe took his time with each step, aiming down the sight of his firearm toward the upper levels of the house. The voice of the crying boy faded in and out until Crimson reached the third floor of the home, when he saw a small sliver of light escaping a bedroom where the door wasn't entirely shut. Crimson noticed doors leading to other rooms were left wide open, and made his way to the first of the exposed rooms.\n\n*A boy's room. Sheets uncovered.*\n\nCrimson knelt down beside the bed, leaned forward toward the overturned sheets, and pressed down on the bed with his free hand.\n\n*Still warm.*\n\nHe was attentive like a predator tracking its prey, leaving the children's room unscathed and remaining melded to the shadows. Crimson stood halted in the threshold leading into the next bedroom.\n\n*That smell. You can smell it once and never forget it. Death.* Apprehensive to examine the room, Crimson lowered his weapon. His eyes were completely adjusted to the darkness. Inch by inch he strode toward the bed until standing beside it. He looked down. *Two bodies. Two shots. Two holes. Two heads. One hole for each. Mum and dad. Bird 'n the cunt. Someone did them proper.* Blood patterns splattered at each execution site, all over the headboard, sheets, night stands, lamps, wall, and parts of the ceiling. Crimson left the room hoping to meet his maker and split the skull open of whoever the company sent to kill him.\n\nHe placed his gun against the door of the well-lit bedroom at head level, slowly pushing it open no more than a few centimeters. There was a crib off in the corner, adjacent to a bassinet covered in red.\n\nA quivering voice broke the silence, \"I'm sorry, mum. I was so mad. I don't know what I done. I just—I just got so mad.\"\n\nCrimson pushed the door open a few more centimeters until gaining sight of a teenage boy sitting on the floor next to the bassinet. The boy had a gun in his hands with his back pressed up against the wall. Crimson moved his firearm to the boy's chest level, aiming at the boy through the door.\n\n\"Luke... Mum... Dad... I'm sorry. I wish I could take it back. I miss you. It's only been minutes and I miss you more than I ever have\"—the boy projected his voice, calling out to his parents—\"except—except that one time, at camp? Member, mum? They wouldn't let me dial you. I was away for two weeks and I cried myself to sleep every—\"\n\nA gunshot filled the room causing Crimson's body to jerk. He peered through the doorway crack, saw the teen's body slumped over, and pushed the door open. The door creaked until it came to a complete stop, where Crimson stared at the bits of skull fragments and brain matter on the carpet and wall.",
"I couldn’t take it anymore. Can you believe he threatened me? Said that he “knew what kind of person” I was, that Kate would never be with me, and that a girl like her would never love the “real me”.\n\nWell, screw you, Kevin. Kate told me how you grabbed her butt the other day and swore you’d make her into your sex slave one day. As if I’d ever let her become your sex slave. \n\nI crept silently down the dark hallway, carrying my knife comfortably in my left hand. Third door on the left. The door was already ajar, making me pause for a moment before peeking in cautiously. \n\nA dark shadow loomed over the bed. Kevin was also holding a knife. *Heh. Mine’s bigger.* \n\n“Your ideal boyfriend is Jude, huh, ” He hissed. Quiet, but I heard him. “I won’t allow that to happen.”\n\nWait a moment...she told me...that Kevin was her dream guy...\n\nMy world turned upside down. Then right side up again, with everything rearranged. And I knew what I needed to do.\n\nI lunged into the room, grabbing Kevin’s arm before he could stab her, and dragging him into the hallway. \n\n“Jude!” He snarled, readying himself to fight.\n\n“Hold up, Kev,” I whispered. “She played us. She told me she was into you.”\n\nHe paled. “And you were here to...”\n\n“Yeah.”\n\nHe sighed, and leaned forward, resting his forehead against my shoulder. “Who knew you were such a possessive bastard.”\n\nI laughed hoarsely. “Yeah, no way was I letting that slut get her claws in you.”\n\n“Wait, what?!”\n\nKevin froze, then pulled away, searching my eyes. \n\nI casually stuffed my oversized knife back in its sheath and smiled slowly. \n\n“Didn’t you say it, Kev? Kate would never love the real me. Why should I waste time on her? It’s just...” I paused, hesitating. “I wasn’t going to let her steal the only person I’ve ever wanted.”\n\n“Jude.” Kevin stared at me for a long moment. “We really are too much alike.” \n\nThen he was kissing me.\n\n——\n\nIn the room just vacated, Kate opened her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Getting those two to finally admit their feelings to each other had been a lot more dangerous than she’d expected. She’d better get a good tip for this job. "
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[WP] After decades of quantum physical experimentation, Time Travel is a reality. Your choice to save the Great Library of Alexandria concludes in the realization that it consisted of only 14 scrolls, a few biographic tomes and that the meaning of "Great" has changed substantially over the millenia.
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"The ancient building was huge with not shelves but entire hall rooms per section. I ran looking for anything that should be saved. From the non-fiction section to the lies one I only ended up with 4 scrolls, all of which were doctoral thesis’s required to apply for a philosopher’s loofah… whatever that was. \n\n\n\nThe sections marked history, biology, medicine where all empty which made zero sense, why have all this space just to leave it all empty? Out of desperation I tried the religion section. Unlike the rest it was a trashcan with ten scrolls sticking out of it. Fine, I’ll save those as well… \n\n\n\nI reached down to grab a scroll when a well-manicured elderly hand darted in front of me and expertly snatched it. I looked up to see an old man in tweeds, besides him was an odd cart full of scrolls. He nonchalantly placed the scrolls with the group then gestured for the ones in my hand. \n\n\n\n“Who the devil are you!” I yelled. The muscles of my jaw reflexably tightened at the stern look on his face. A long forgotten instinct inside me forced my voice down and a mumbled apology escaped my lips.\n\n\n\n*”who are you”* I whispered. It sounded thunderous in the empty hall and I felt myself shrinking under the man’s gaze. \n\n\n\n“Librarian.” He said in abolishing tones, as if I should have known better then to ask him when this was his domain. He gestured again for the scrolls in my hand. I instinctively started to hand them over before my expensively educated mind over-road my medulla oblongata’s response.\n\n\n“The scrolls, the knowledge… lost” I whispered as softly as I could. \n\n\n\n“Lost?” Said the librarian. “Books in all their forms are never lost young man, just misplaced. That’s why I need that, we’ve all gotten the call for this library and have come for the books.” His eyes burned with a passion so deep it was surprising that nothing here caught fire, yet. \n\n\n“Are you a time traveler too?” I asked fearing there might have been a mistake in the agency. \n\n\n\n“Young man must I repeat myself? I am a librarian. Which is why I am here for the books. Same as all the others that felt the call.”\n\n\n\n“But.. how?!” I stammered. I was too stunned to notice when he took the scrolls from my unprotesting hands.\n\n\n“How… what young man? I work in a library, you keep all of those words so close together in one place and they will end up creating their own world. Anyone that’s ever visited an old library or used book store feels this in their bones. But us, the keepers of those words, are the ones that are tasked with responding.”\n\n\nHe started to push is cart away back straight before he turned to me and said off handily. “Opening hours are 8 to 8 except on Sundays. If you register for a card then you can borrow some. Late fees apply of course.” He rolled off behind one of the shelves before I came to my senses and ran after him. There was nothing there, just the sound of the cart wheels slowly fading away into the distance. \n",
"\"You guys really, uh, like to put animal heads on human bodies,\" I said in the dialect I had painstakingly practiced in preparation for this mission. The Library of Alexandria, forbidden knowledge, lost to the ages. Until now. \n\n\"Of course! Do be courteous with the scrolls, though. We've had some problems with sweat and...other bodily fluids ruining the papyrus,\" the librarian said in a pleasant voice. \"I encourage you to make use of one of our 'private' reading rooms.\"\n\n\"No, no. This isn't why I came!\" I shouted, cognizant of the library's silence, but unable to contain my frustration. \n\n\"Oh? Was it perhaps the parchment with the Jackal instead? Its quite popular. The detail-work on the human anatomy is exquisite.\" \n\nNone of this added up. How could this useless library gain such a reputation? The artwork was scarcely better than the doodles people upload to the internet, and the stories underneath had less depth than a low-quality porno. Most of the text was spent explaining the intricate details of the cat's sensitive whiskers and nimble tongue, the feeling of fur rubbing against skin, and visions of a lover seen through eyes that cut through the darkness. Oh my God. The realization hit me. \n\nI hadn't discovered the store of ancient knowledge, just an ancient predecessor to Deviantart. We should have seen the signs. They had always been among us. The Egyptians didn't use a Jackal's head to represent death, or a cat's head to represent the divine. They were furries. Fucking furries, this entire time. \n\nNo wonder the Christians burned it down. I would have done the same. I *could* do the same. Maybe I could end this disease before it spreads. But first, I should, uh, familiarize myself with the enemy I seek to destroy. \n\n\"Have the Jackal scroll brought up to my private chamber, if you would be so kind,\" I said. \"And, is there some kind of 'do not disturb' sign I can use?\""
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[WP] You're about to take a picture of a forest when through the screen you see the trees age and die and strange buildings appear. That's when you realize--whatever you point the camera at will show you the next 100 years of any place, being or object.
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"\"okay let me see....this pine looks cool..\" I pull out my new camera. Well, new to me, but used. I picked it up at a local thrift shop and it was in perfect working condition. LCD screen, auto focus, all the good stuff for less than $75. \n\nI point the lens at the tall green pine tree, letting the auto focus work it's magic, and adjusting some small settings. Suddenly the screen changes, the pine seems to be getting taller. \"What the hell?\" I say. I look past the screen at the tree and it looks the same as before. Quickly checking the screen again the tree is now falling apart and the other trees around it, too. They have no more needles or leaves and the grass is becoming a muddy dry patch. Then after a few seconds of nothing happening on the screen, a band of construction workers begin to cement the ground and begin building. I watch for another moment as a building is completed and then it remains still. There's a plaque on it that reads \"Established in 2118\" I click the capture button. Only a photo of the tree is in the memory. \n\nExtremely confused and a little shook up, I begin to go back to my car. The parking lot is mostly empty except for a few other vehicles and one family heading out to the forest's trail. I'm starting to think I imagined the whole thing so I decide to photograph my car; just to be safe. \n\nThe same thing happens. The car goes from a beautiful blue, to rust. Then it becomes squished as if it had been in one of those giant crushing machines. It stays crushed for a few seconds and then it begins to break apart. Finally it ends up becoming part of a children's jungle gym. \n\n'This is crazy' I think. It's like this camera can show me the future. I hop in my car and drive home as fast as I can. \n\n* * * \n\nOnce I arrive at home, I run over to my neighbor Rob's house. Rob is the same age as me, we've been friends for years. I have to show him how amazing this is. I tell him exactly what I saw and what I think it means - I'm seeing up to 100 into the future of these objects - \n\nRob is unconvinced. \"I'll prove it to you!\" I exclaim, angry he doesn't believe me. I prepare the camera and hold the lens in the direction of a fruit bowl he has in his kitchen. He stands behind me as we watch the fruit go from fresh to rotten. It shows Rob dumping it into the trash. It even shows it becoming decayed and shows how the little bugs eat it, just before it becomes dirt. \n\nHis jaw drops. \"This makes no sense!\" He says. We talk about it for a minute, how it can't be possible. How it must be a prank or someone fixed the camera with different scenarios for different objects. \"What if you take a photo of me?\" He asks. \n\nI'm weary. I'm scared because he's a human, and in 100 years, he'll be dead. I don't want to watch my friend die, or see his decaying body. \"Please!?\" he starts begging me. I decide to do it, trying to convince myself it doesn't matter cause I won't be around in 100 years either. And because I'm extremely curious to see what it'll show. \n\nI hold the lens up to him. First he remains mostly the same. Hair growing and then getting shorter from obvious hair cuts. Facial hair doing the same. Then he has a woman with him and she begins to age too. Both their hair greying. It even shows the dogs they'll have. But no children. Rob's body gets a little older looking, but nothing compared to his future wife. She begins to almost shrink and her hair is white as snow now. Her wrinkles taking up her whole face. She then starts to turn grey and thin as she decays. Becoming only bone and falling to the floor. But Rob remains the same. He's aged but not dead. His wife's skeleton laying next to him. And he just has some grey hair. Flowers begin to bloom from his wife's body, and still nothing's changed. He looks like he's only 45. \n\nNothing else happens so I assume this is all the camera is showing me. That means Rob is still alive in 100 years. And that he barely ages. I stare at the screen and then back at him. \n\n\"What is it?\" He asks. \"Do I look ugly when I'm old?\" \n\n\n*******\n\n\nSorry if this is all over the place. I'm trying to write more and am also on mobile.\n\n\n"
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[WP] You have the ever useful ability to respawn when you die. Unfortunately, your corpse does not dissapear so you have become a master at hiding your deaths. Unluckily, the latest death of yours was quite well documented.
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"A scientific achievement unlike any before. I was always told what a gift to science my life was. But to me, my life was a curse. Scienctist have been trying to replicate what they created. But from what I understand they never made another... me. I was genetically, albeit illegally, created. Something to do with organic nanites harvested from some alien crash site in the 50's. I, for lack of a better way of saying this, respawn. Have since I was born...well, since I was created. And the scientists that created me have also killed me many many times, all in the name of science. But I feel everything. I remember everything. I hate them all. After all my deaths, I learned that I have some control over where I respawn. That's how I got away. I never let them know what I had planned. I managed to spawn in a wall. To say I died immediately would be an understatement, I never even came to life, but I immediately spawned another ten miles out. They never tested me spawning in a situation like that. I was free. I managed to create a life for myself on the other side of the country. I've died a few times but was always able to recover the body and dispose of it without anyone finding out. Somehow I am always aware of where my bodies are. That's how I know they still experiment on my old ones. I Iearned how to listen in one some of them, even see through my dead eyes. They thought I didnt respawn after the wall incident. I had made a good, simple life. Then, just out of nowhere, I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. A bank robbery. I was walking out the door when they pushed in. I was taken hostage. Someone tried to be a hero. I got killed. My face was suddenly on T.V. My identity was fake. I'm sure someone figured that out quickly enough. There was no hiding this one. I saw black SVU's rolling into town the next day. Time to disappear again.",
"I put a slice of toast and some eggs on my plate, with a cup of coffee in one hand. During the subway ride, I have already gone through a mental breakdown of yesterday’s events. If, I had done everything correctly, then everything will be safe and sound. I sit down at the table, across from George, in hopes of no news. We exchange a short nod of recognition. The television is blaring out another advert for backpacks and new shoes. Finally, the morning news.\n\n“Temperatures will probably drop to at least minus seven. Tomorrow's forecast calls for more flurries with a high of zero and a low of minus twelve. With the wind chill factor, that could put us at a record low of minus twenty. Conditions are perfect for skiing this weekend…”\n\nA small sigh escapes my lips. Another death put behind me. George is still munching down on his sub, eyes fixed to the screen.\n\n“Back to the headlines. A car crash, not too far off the outskirts of Nara Valley. While the cause of the crash is still unclear, there seems to be a more sinister ploy in play. Let’s take a closer look.”\n\nI freeze, in the middle of downing my coffee. George speaks, with specks of sandwich spouting from his mouth.\n\n“Hey, Nara Valley. Isn’t that where you live?”\n\nI nod. He does not notice. \n\n“A man, about forty, drives down the highway. Then suddenly, for reasons unknown, he makes a sharp left turn, and crashes headfirst in to a nearby tree. The surprise is yet to come. Then, here, here. Can you see it? Another person, wearing the same clothes, drags the unconscious body elsewhere. Joey, how do you think this happened? Is this ‘just’ an accident?”\n\nThe screen shifts, to a picture of my face in the car, white from fear. The screen shifts one more time, with them still speaking; It is myself, looking down at ‘myself,’ complete with a much clearer close up. \n\nThey have my face.\n\nI look down at my feet, at a sudden wet feeling. I have spilled my coffee all over them. \n\nGeorge is looking at me now, the half sub still in his hand, with his mouth gaping open.\n\nA torrent of thoughts race through my head. However, it all distills down to one thought.\n\nI f\\*\\*\\*ed up.",
"30 years to the day, someone found a genie and wished life was more like a game. Life on earth changed. Everyone gained three lives. Death tolls rose among young teens and kids that lived too recklessly and the world population was halved in a matter of months. You could always gain more lives, whether through personal achievements or collecting strange floating icons that appeared as the extra lives did. The rules were determined by a group of hardcore gamers, through trial, error, and observation.\n\n1. When you die, you respawn in the closest safe location. (relative to state of mind)\n2. Your corpse vanishes when you respawn unless you're out of lives.\n3. Death due to old age, or other natural causes is permanent. Anything beyond this and you respawn in healthy condition.\n4. Icons grant lives, as well as personal achievements. (This encouraged a lot of self-improvement in everyone)\n5. Active and passive status effects will appear near your life counter.\n6. Going to sleep is the equivalent of saving your game.\n\nI was thirteen when this all started. Students in school, teachers, family, etc... Everyone discovered marks on their bodies that signified their remaining lives. I started with a faded black eight on the bottom of my foot, and status effects would appear and disappear on my leg. I thought it was odd that I started with eight, but lives began to fluctuate so fast no one gave me an odd look about it. I did try collecting lives, but my number never seemed to go up. So I gained the nickname, \"Glitch\". They joked about not wanting to catch what I had that kept me from gaining lives.\n\nThen it happened.\n\nMy first death.\n\nI was out hiking on a trail and found my way off a cliff. It was a long fall and the sudden stop made me splatter like a sack of spaghetti and chicken bones. I let out a faint wheeze and closed my eyes. I woke up with a sharp gasp for air shaking my head a bit to check my surroundings and I saw it. A corpse on the ground mangled by trees, and broken by the rocks. I thought it was an unfortunate hiker that lost his last life, but as I got closer I realized it was me.\n\nSome people noticed the body doesn't immediately vanish, like the \"game\" was trying to keep up and the body stuck around for a bit. I decided the proper thing to do was bury it. It'd eventually vanish, but at least I could say I gave myself a proper burial. It seemed reasonable at the time, I mean I did just die and respawn next to myself.\n\nAfter burying it, and collecting my thoughts and went home. I checked my mark and it hadn't changed. It was still an 8. I thought, \"Maybe I did gain a life somewhere. I don't always check it. Then again I've done pretty good about not dying.\" I shrugged it off and went back a week later to check the grave because why not?\n\nThe body was still there. Still mangled, still broken, and smelling something awful. My head was spinning. \"I've got eight lives, why not give it a test.\", the voice in my head was rather convincing as I walked up the trail back onto the cliff and jumped off. I took in a sharp gasp of air again, just like last time and there it was, a second corpse similar to the first.\n\nIt was at this point I decided to puke. The rotting smell finally got to me. I wiped my mouth clean with a water bottle in my pack and took off my shoe. It was still an eight. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I knew I hadn't gained any lives that week, because I didn't see a point if my number didn't go up. Best solution was to burn the bodies. Again; traumatic experiences can illogical solutions. And after a while, I began to realize this eight was actually the symbol for infinity ∞. Imagine my luck... Unlimited lives, but my bodies don't vanish. I decided to keep it a secret because there were probably a lot of people that would exploit my 'gift' to their gain, or I'd be even more ostracized than I was before.\n\nI got better at disposing the bodies with time, because accidents happen. The trick was often getting the bodies from A to B without people noticing. That is until my latest death.\n\nIt was a freak accident like something out of a cartoon. I was walking along my usual route to work and then it hit me. I heard the scream and looked up only to see the beautifully stained spruce wood of a piano before I opened my eyes and found myself in the middle of the forest, not too far from my first death. All I could muster were two words, \"Well, shit...\"\n\nApparently there was a well organized dealer who decided to take a load of meth to determine his limits. He opened the window and pushed his piano out because he was out of his mind and when I got back to the city I discovered that he went through a lot of effort to make it look like an accident. Now he's being investigated for second degree murder, and I'm being questioned about my dead body and my status in this \"game\" that started 30 years ago.",
"\"Dude I told you it wouldn't come out. I honestly don't care anymore, just wrap it and write this off as masochism or something.\" Carlos still had a lot to learn.\n\n\"But...this is like, gallons.\" He said as he grimaced at my couch. \n\n\"Do you value this relationship, Carlos?\" \n\n\"Yeah, your real life Deadpool, sort of. But this...this is fucked. Just try to stay alive for like a month at a time or I can't keep helping you. Like, I'm down for sidekick, not housekeeper.\"\n\nHe had a point. The day before I coerced my friend into cleaning up the crime scene in my basement, I blew my face off for the fiftieth time. I thought about taking care of it myself but even for me it's still depressing seeing this. Misery loves company. \n\n\"I have money you wanna get some booze?\" Carlos knows my medicine. \n\n\"Yeah you gonna go just go, or?\"\n\n\"You need to leave the house anyway man, just go with and we'll get some food or something.\"\n\n\"Fine. But I'll kill myself in front of you if we drink tequila again.\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\n\"Word.\"\n\nWe drove around completely housed until 1:45 a.m. so we could get more liquor. Even though I'm basically immortal I try not fuck around with cops but booze cruising is fun, so. I don't wanna have to do the deed in jail though. I prefer the painless route. \n\nSo, before I go to far into this I should explain the mechanisms of my situation. My mom, dad, and I lived in my moms family home in Montana since I was born. Dad ran off when I was 15, mom got into heroin, and overdosed when I was 18. I got the house in the will and just lived alone and worked on and off whenever i wanted money. A year later I decided I couldn't do it anymore. I made some money, bought a pistol and killed myself in my basement. Roughly a day later I wake up on the floor next to my dead body on my couch. Long story short I tried to find a loophole for about a year until I realized I can't fucking die. \n\nI can't sleep because now I have to think about my fucked up life for the rest of eternity. Almost every night for two months now I've been shooting myself on the couch before morning, waking up by the couch and making my friend Carlos help my deal with the bodies. Luckily Carlos is the most morbid person on Earth and enjoys human anatomy. We've been cutting me up and putting my various parts into bags and just driving them to his families property and sinking them in a pond. The pond's getting full, and now on top of everything I worry about Carlos getting arrested for aiding and abetting a serial suicide killer.\n\n\"Alright hurry in though it's almost the hour of the pig, I wanna get home.\"\n\nCarlos ran into the bar to get our second bottle of the night. Sometimes a forget how lucky I am to have met this kid. I don't think I could do this alone. If he was a chick I'd be set, but I have a hunch this would scare most of them off if the alcoholism doesn't. \n\n\"Hand's up bitch! Right the fuck now hands up!\"\n\nWhat the fuck is he doing, hell no, hell no. I jump out of the car and run into the bar. Where is he? I look to the back of the bar, there's three people. The bartender's crying with a gun to her head and Carlos is on the ground covering his face. Some crackhead from around the way is robbing the bar. Fuck, what do I do. I can't let Carlos get hurt. Fuck the bartender just get Carlos. I get his attention without the skinpeeler noticing me. \n\nI mouth to him, \"I'm gonna throw glass, run out the back.\" Carlos understands. \n\nI chuck a glass at the opposite side of the room of the methhead. He turns to see and Carlos gets up ad sprints towards the backdoor. The crackhead catches on surprisingly fast and starts shooting at Carlos. Carlos get pinned behind a pony wall praying not to get hit. I have to do something. I throw pool ball at the bar and hide behind the pool table. Carlos slips out the backdoor. The crazy fuck runs towards me screaming. I scramble to find something to throw and hit him with, but as soon as I stood up I'm shot. Usually I don't mind a bullet or two, it helps me start fresh. But this time I'm fucked. \n\nI wake up to Carlos grabbing random shit from my room. \n\n\"Put on a coat on we have to go. The cops were called dude, they have your body. There's an investigation going on at the bar. We're going to my house, you can stay in the guest house until we figure something out.\"\n\n\"You made it! Fuck, I thought we were done. Fuck, everyone thinks I'm dead! I don't have money dude. Even if I did I can't fly. I don't wanna go to Canada?!\"\n\n\"I really don't know, but for now let's go before someone gets here.\"\n\n\"I'm bringing my gun.\"\n\n\"No! No you are not. Not now, we'll come back for it.\"\n\n\"No, the cops will probly fucking take it, and I need it in case.\"\n\n\"In case what?\"\n\n\"In case they find me at your place, then I can go bang and show up at my place and run away again. I don't know Carlos, what else?\"\n\n\"Alright grab it. Don't do it in front of me.\"\n\n​\n\n​",
"There was this power I had, to respawn like a video game character. But unlike game characters, I left corpses. \n\n\nI first learned of the power when I turned 14. I was a careful girl, but even then, you could still lie to me, or sneak up behind me. I'm undying, not all knowing. A woman snuck up behind me and stabbed me seventeen times in the back. When it was over, I woke up in my bed, thinking of it only as a nightmare. But then I went to school, my murderer was the substitute teacher. She seemed rather scared the whole day, so after school, I approached her. It didn't end well. She shouted, yelling about how her god was angry about the sacrifice going wrong.\n\nPerhaps that's why I'm still here. Because of a deity not wanting me as a sacrifice. \n\nShe finally attacked me again, and things became a bit blurry after that. But I remember taking a bullet to the head and seeing someone dragging away my corpse from my bedroom window. She was hiding it. \n\nSo I did what any unreasonable and confused person would do, I threw the nearest heavy object at her. A canister of spray paint. It hit her with a sickening crack, and only then did I realize what I had just done. \n\nI had to hide two corpses that day.\n\n\nBut I've grown. At least, I think I have. \n\n\nI haven't grown much physically. In fact, it's only been two years. But my mental state is (or at least I think it is) higher than most kids my age. I've become a master at hiding my deaths. My last one, however, was to be beaten to death as people filmed it. It may be a bit difficult to hide. The modern world could be a cruel mistress. I sighed and stared out of the window. \n\nInto the same place this all began. \n\nI walked down the stairs, only to find my mother crying into her arms. \n\n\"Mom? What's wrong?\"\n\nPlease don't let it be what I think it is...\n\nShe looked at me, and screamed. \"Mom!\" \n\nI slapped her across the face. I'd rather deal with an angry mom than one who thought she was loosing it. \n\n\"I thought you were dead!\" \n\n\"Umm... no? Where'd you get that?\" I faked.\n\n\"If you're still here... Then who was the girl in the video?\" My mother's shoulders shook. Her eyes were watery, and her lips quivering.\n\n\"Not me.\" I affirmed, before walking away and getting ready to dress up.\n\nIt took me ten minutes to tie that damn tie. And it took twenty to button my shirt up. If I wasn't already in a sour mood, I sure was now.\n\n\nNot only would I have to falsify the evidence, I also have to deal with the clueless police, and the annoyances of professional fashion. \n\nI took some toast, spread some butter on it, and ran out the door with my bag in my hands. \n\nThe sooner I could convince people I wasn't dead, the sooner all this would be over.\n\nUnfortunately, people tend to notice when someone who looks exactly like you dies \n\nI became more irritated as everyone seemed more and more shocked. \n\n\n\nI simply feigned ignorance with the first few people who asked. But then they showed me the video. I saw just how gruesome the death was. But I still stood, and said it wasn't me. Internally, every time another person asked, I wanted to strangle them with their ties. Yeah I died! Quit rubbing it in you assholes!\n\nBut of course, they didn't know, and strangling people would get me in trouble. I lied my way through the day. The bell rang to signal the end of my misery. I cheered inside as I ran out the doors.\n\nNow, I just had to deal with that corpse. \n\nIt had been ruined pretty badly, but it still had my DNA all over it. I needed to know where they had it. The nearest hospital was likely a good bet, so I started heading in that general direction. I walked past the front entrance. I walked where no one would see me, and changed my look a bit. I removed my tie and my jacket, putting both of those things in my school bag. I undid half of my shirt buttons, swallowing down the embarrassment. I'd done more embarrassing things, so I'd just have to suck it up. I put my shirt in the bag too and pulled out my art smock. I removed the big apron on the front to make it look like some sort of sweater dress. I swapped my boots out for my PE runners too, so that my footprints would be recognized. I pulled an elastic from my bag and used it to put my hair in a ponytail. \n\n\nI prayed that this would be enough for me to go unrecognized, and walked to the side of the hospital, scoping out where the best entrance and escape was. I saw a fire door. I knew it would set off an alarm, but that might actually be a good diversion. I walked away from the hospital to the nearest small shop. I bought a lighter, and went back to the hospital. I pulled out a stack of unused paper, lit part of the stack on fire, opened the door, and threw the papers inside.\n\nAlarms started blaring as I ran from the area. I could hear panicked voices from the outside, but I didn't have time for pity. I found a separate fire door, and ran in through it, throwing some flaming paper in there too. I ran past it this time. \n\n\nIt took a while to find the morgue, but when I did, I made sure to lock the door behind me. I searched until I found my corpse, and I burned it. I also burned a couple others to cover my tracks and not raise suspicion. I picked up the flaming body, and threw it at some walls. \n\nThe morgue went up like a dragon having a fit. This would make the news, I knew. I then saw my exit. Today, fire exits had not let me down a bit, so I used the one in the morgue to escape. I ran away, but instead of heading straight home, I ran further. I ran until I saw a train station. I pulled out the money that was left from my purchase of the lighter, and payed for a train ticket at one of the machines. I got on one I had no idea the destination of. \n\nI ended up in the downtown area. \n\n\nI walked to the nearest outdoor bathroom and changed there. I didn't need a new ticket, actually I still had an hour on the thing, so, after putting myself back into my regular outfit, I walked to a close by fast food place, and took my sweet time eating. Once I was done, I went back to the station like nothing happened. I got on the train headed home, and never spoke a word of what happened to anyone.\n\n\n ",
"Ugh, shit.\n\nI'm not getting away with this one.\n\nYou see, when I die, be it accident or not, I respawn, alike to a video game character. Sadly, I do not inherit the benefit of my body disappearing as well.\n\nI discovered this power rather recently, only a few days ago. It was a stupid way to find out. If you truly care to know... I tripped, in the middle of an alleyway. It was embarrassing, but hey, no one saw. Why was I in an alleyway? I dropped my wallet on a windy day, that is.\n\nI came to my senses quickly further into the alleyway. Once I did so, I was disgusted. My body wasn't that scraped up, but damn, the skull was totally demolished. I wouldn't care to deny that it was made of something stronger than your average asphalt. Of course, you wouldn't be satisfied unless I picked up my wallet, which I did. Gah, I also threw the body in a trash bag, and into the nearest dumpster.\n\nRegardless, fast forward to today. I had to go Christmas shopping, but I also live in a large city. I kinda got mauled to death because of my comically exaggerated clumsiness, where I tripped once again and was trampled in the Black Friday-esque madness.\n\nTurns out I was the only one to get mauled, and the media wanted to mock my heroic death. And so my plight was overly documented. For some reason they even got my parents to cry on film for them.\n\nAnd, here I am, outside the mall, freshly respawned just hours later (them news producers are FAST). I honestly am not sure how to handle this, this may have happened to others, but this is my second time and I'm just a guy in his early twenties buying cheap gifts so my family will still love me.\n\nTo the mall I go.\n\nAt least the morgue hasn't come because of the high crime rate, so I got my wallet.\n\nGonna buy some of this and some of that, and off to my TOWED car. Wait. Shit. Well, time to call an Uber or something.\n\n\nOkay guys I'm in the Uber to my parents house. The driver would've recognized me but look inbetween the lines, I bought a weird ski mask without your knowledge.\n\nToo bad, the driver made me take it off... And he recognized me. Oops. [Insert bad lie here] and we're there! I say my goodbyes and pray nothing happens. A five star bribe may help.\n\nI'm now at their doorstep.\n\n\"IT'S JUST A PRANK BRO!\" I yelled primally.\n\nWait, my parents are too old to understand and are quite literally screaming. \n\n\"CALM DOWN\" I spoke, assaulting their ears.\n\nThey stopped, yay! Time to explain. Yadda yadda done. Apparently I'm getting a new identity at their request so merry Christmas, I dropped their gifts off, and never speak of me again.\n\n\n\n*This is my first time doing this and I suck at writing, please criticize me and thank you.*",
"(First attempt in a while go easy on me) \nMy ability first reared its head at the age of 17, I had been messing about near a cliff with my friends. Playfighting and pushing each other until I lost my footing and fell I smashed my head on the way down and everything went black. I awoke lying on a small ledge just above the water. I was shocked that I had survived until I looked into the water and saw a floating body, I thought maybe someone had dived in to try and save me. I jumped into the water to help them, when I reached the body as it was being pushed against the Cliffside from the waves. I flipped it over. What I saw made me vomit immediately, it was me but with a dent in my skull and all the colour was gone. After I had gathered myself I pushed the body up onto the same ledge I had awoken on. \n\n\n\n\"MARCUS\" I heard my friends shout from high above \"God where is he\"\n\n \n\nMy mind spun this way and that before I worked out what to do, I had to hide the body and pretend I'd survived, would it be really be pretending I had technically survived. I decided to try and get the body to sink, I took the old copy of my clothes and wrapped heavy rocks into them, stuffed rocks in my shoes and pockets and pushed my body into the sea. It worked and I saw myself sink like an anchor. I collapsed against the rock face and collected myself. I had no idea what had just happened.\n\n\n\nThe next time I was killed in an alleyway in a shitty part of town, the thief had shot me before I could even react. I awoke further down the alleyway behind a wheely bin of a restaurant. I saw as the man panicked, he didn't know what to do with my body, he decided to cut it up. I watched as he chopped up my arms, legs and head and put them in separate bin bags and ran from the scene. This was when I realised I'd have to learn to hide my deaths, what good would this power be if people thought I was dead and I just came back, what sort of experiments would the government want to run on me.\n\n\n\nIt only happened a few more times before now, but this time was bad, real bad. I had been shopping for Christmas when a gunman had entered the building. I heard the shots first, and then the screams. Now I might have been reckless, but with a power like this you gain a sort of immortality mindset, so I decided to be a hero. I had managed to knock the gunman over in a surprise and managed to break his leg, but not before he was able to grab his weapon and shoot me directly between the eyes. When I awoke it was late at night, the shopping centre had closed. The TVs around were still blaring the national news. What I saw scared me, it was my face. An old school photo of.me smiling with friends, and next to my name was plastered the word hero. The southside saviour I was called. I saw more clips, cctv of my attempt to stop the shooter, and a clip of my parents crying addressing the press. I had messed up, how in the hell was I going to get away with this one...",
"I first discovered my “respawn” ability at the age of seventeen. Drank too much at a friend’s party, stumbled back to my house and let myself collapse on the floor of my room. I awoke cozily tucked into my bed. I stretched, rolled over contentedly and immediately laid eyes upon my own dead body, flat on my back with my mouth hanging open and full of vomit. Once I got over the initial shock and realized what had happened, I shoved “myself” into a trash bag with some rocks and booked it to the nearest lake. Thankfully, my family noticed nothing. I stopped drinking after that.\n\nThe second time, I was nineteen. Slipped like an idiot while singing in the shower. Bashed my head in on the faucet. Woke up in my bed again. That day, another body went in a different lake.\n\nSince then, I’ve put my ability to good use. I’ve run into a couple house fires to pull out survivors before burning myself to a crisp - I don’t feel much in the way of pain. One time I even pushed someone out of the way of an oncoming train. From what I heard about “that poor shmuck that got killed on the tracks,” my body was mangled enough that they couldn’t ID me. Each time, I wake up perfectly healthy where I fell asleep the night before. I’ve never had to deal with a body of mine being found intact, and I’ve never let anyone who knows me see me die. I’ve kept my secret quite well over the years. Quite well, that is, until today. \n\nI was at the wheel of my 60’s Mustang, my good friend Reid in the passenger seat. The windows were foggy, the world cloaked in white and the road slick with ice. We pulled up to that fateful stoplight without a care in the world, smiling, laughing and taking sips of warm coffee from paper cups. We should have paid more attention to the road. *I* should have paid more attention. It doesn’t matter that the light was green. I should have looked both ways. If I’d just followed the first goddamn rule of driving, I would have seen the van barreling through the intersection on a course to cut off my vehicle.\n\nI heard and felt the impact before I saw a thing. White light exploded in my head and everything spun before screeching to a violent halt. When the ringing stopped, I looked over at my friend. Though the front of our car was destroyed, he was miraculously intact. I breathed a sigh of relief before looking down at my chest. Intact, I was not. \n\nI loved my vintage fastback with all my heart. It was stylish, classic, a lovely shade of blue. What it lacked, however, were any sort of safety measures. Somewhere in the chaos, the wheel had snapped off under my grip. The steering column, freed from its rightful position, had thrust itself squarely through my chest. Shuddering, I clutched at the thing sticking out of me. The metal was slippery and warm between my fingers. I knew immediately that there was far too much blood pouring freely down the column and over my hands and resigned myself to my fate. Reid was screaming, clawing at my shirt and grasping at my face as I felt my eyes begin to close. Too late. I smiled weakly. Death wasn’t unfamiliar to me, so in that last moment I wasn’t afraid. I exhaled one last time, and with the tenderness of an old friend, the darkness wrapped its arms around me.\n\nNow, sitting on Reid’s doorstep, I’m absolutely terrified. My friend watched me die. He saw the whole thing, so there’s no convincing him otherwise. Right now, I have no idea what he told the authorities. I bury my head in my hands, a thousand thoughts racing through my brain. I’m not sure when he’ll be coming home, but when he gets here I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do."
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[WP] It finally happened, an infectious disease with 100% transmission rate, 89% death rate, no antidote, immune to all current medicines, and no chemical can sterilize. The only way to kill it, temperatures of 300ºF or higher. Your environment suit was just splashed with a study sample...
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"My chem suit was useless, I knew, since the transmission rate was 100%. My only hope was to undergo the horrific effects, and hope, since there was no known cure, and no chemical that could neutralize it, that I was one of the rare lucky survivors who happened to have an immunity. I mean, this is the one crutch and weakness of all good zombie stories. Since I'm writing about it, I obviously survived.\n\nUnderstanding my odds, I took off the biohazard suit. Thankfully I was right, and the story continues. The hospital was empty, obviously, and I was the only one alive.\n\nI passed the corpses in shock, not looking. Their fate had been too near mine. If only they'd been so lucky to have a random immunity to a made-up disease. All the props and make-up couldn't convince me of the seriousness of the get-up, it was like the slumped corpses, my friends and colleagues, were all in on the gag and I was just waiting for them to call the punch line.\n\nBut they didn't. I ran, I ran and ran. I ran until I became thirsty. I did not run with a damn. Well, I thought, no harm stealing now. I walked into the 7-11, the fluorescent lights still beaming, and grabbed an energy drink. The attendant was...inattentive, so I just left the money on the counter...but I was also hungry...so very hungry...I looked at the acne--or was it pustules--on the 7-11 attendant's face, and his long, lean muscles..."
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[WP] A crack team of Pokémon GO enthusiasts hatches a plan to catch the last one: on the Moon.
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"Brock turned to Misty. Their eyes met and they nodded. Then he turned to the rest of the squad. They looked anxious, yet excited. He knew his time had come. He was ready to go. He was ready to finally catch that JigglyPuff.\n\nNow, Brock knew Misty's name wasn't really Misty. And he knew this team of misfits were not ready to do this. This was a game. This had always been a game. But what they were about to do was real. They were really on Merritt Island, in Florida. They were really on a rocket ship. And they were really headed out of the atmosphere, to the fucking moon.\n\nIt all started out as a Google Rabbit Hole. Brock - we'll keep using his psuedonym - had found all of the Pokemon except for one and he wanted to know where to get it. His dad was rich, real rich, as rich as Donald Trump claims to be. He had all of the resources in the world. And he'd used them. He traveled all over the world in to catch them all. And he succeeded. He had the most diverse and rarest collection in the world - in fact, he was the only person to have all nine elemental birds. He had every one, except for the elusive JigglyPuff.\n\nHe wanted to know where to find it. Where could it be? As he searched Google he found he wasn't alone. Nobody had ever even had the opportunity to catch it. Nobody had heard of anybody that had the opportunity to catch it. He became Ahab and this Pokemon his white whale. \n\nHis beard grew as he sunk into reclusivity. He only ate when food was brought to his door. The search for this JigglyPuff consumed him. He was going mad, losing hope. His posts to hardcore Poke Forums had gotten desperate. He didn't know how much longer he could keep up. \n\nAnd then suddenly his computer dinged and a Skype message popped up. It was the first message he'd gotten in a while - he had spurned all of his old friends on this quest. It was from a screen name he'd never seen before MistyRotten420. \"Brock - I will keep this quick,\" the message shown, \"I know who you are. I know of your collection. I know what you are trying to do. And I know how. Take the next flight down to Florida and I'll pick you up from the airport. We need you. Bring your phone.\"\n\nBrock was startled, but he had no other leads, and he was really close to the brink of insanity. The first thing he did was hop in the shower. He smelled of someone that hadn't left his room in far too long. And then he shaved his mangled, patchy beard. He grabbed all of the pomade he had and pulled his hair into giant spikes. He looked sharp. Almost like himself again. Then he ordered an Uber and he was on his way.\n\nA curvy Asian woman with bright orange hair spotted him after he deplaned. She caught his stride and they walked through the airport talking quickly like they were the stars of the West Wing. She introduced herself as Misty. Said they were headed to Kennedy Space Station and they were going to the moon. They were going to get themselves a JigglyPuff.\n\nThe car had six people, all dressed like cartoons, in it. There were two Ashes, a Misty, his Brock, a Janine and a Lt. Surge. The Ashes kept bickering. Neither one wanted to put on the Pikachu costume. \n\nThe gates were closed when they got to the Space Station. Obviously, you don't just stroll into a Space Station. A man came out in full uniform. \"Do you have the package?\" he asked. Everyone's eyes turned towards Misty, and then Brock, and then back to Misty. \"Brock,\" Misty turned to him, \"you'd do anything for this JigglyPuff, right?\" Brock nodded, a bit concerned. \"We need you to send your MewTwo, Mew, and all elemental birds to this screen name. It's the only way to get us in.\" \n\nBrock recounted the years he took building this collection and finding these Pokemon. And then he thought about the past few months, sad and alone in his room. He sent them. The uniformed man confirmed on his phone and then gave the signal. They gates opened and they drove in.\n\nFlying to the moon was smoother than they'd expected, a breeze. And JigglyPuff turned out to be a pretty easy catch. They each caught one. They landed back on earth the next day. Brock and Misty shared a moment, but, as two people so focused on a virtual game, they didn't even notice. Brock flew home. He ate dinner with his family. Met up for FortNite with his friends. Everything resumed as normal. \n ",
"Come ogni ragazza che crede di essere alternativa, anche Peri ha uno zaino di pelle, nero come la pece, e qualche borchia segue i contorni delle cuciture. Credo che abbiano solo scopo di dargli un'aria più prepotente. Lo sta riempiendo, infilandoci di tutto. La prima cosa che ci finisce dentro è un sacchetto di plastica trasparente. Dentro ci sono dei panini al latte riempiti con della carne e insalata. Da qualcuno sbuca fuori l'orlo di una fetta sottile di formaggio. Subito dopo un paio di bottigliette d'acqua: una frizzante e una liscia. In un piccolo astuccio ha introdotto dei cerotti e un flacone di disinfettante. Portafoglio e documenti d'identità, indispensabili per l'imbarco. Nelle tasche del cappotto ha messo il powerbank, il cellulare, un pacchetto di fazzoletti, il caricabatterie dello smartphone. Al polso destro ha messo un braccialetto elettronico azzurro. Per bluethooth è collegato al cellulare. Tutto è pronto per l'imbarco.\n\nDove va? Sulla Luna. Questo mese la Niantic ha deciso di marciare sui soldi dei giocatori anche indirettamente e ha organizzato il Community Day sull'intera superficie del satellite.\n\n\"In quale mare si nasconderà Delibird shiny?\" Così recitava il logo dell'ultimo aggiornamento.\n\nPeri e il resto del team a cui appartiene hanno quindi organizzato un autobus che li porti fino alla stazione da cui partiranno verso lo spazio.\n\nScesa rapidamente in strada, trova Lissa ad aspettarla. Si conoscono da tempo. Iniziarono a giocare assieme appena fu lanciata l'applicazione nello store. Lissa aveva avuto la fortuna di poter fare il suo personaggio con i capelli del suo stesso colore. Peri invece no. A Peri piace tingere i capelli con colori strani. L'ultima volta li ha fatti di due colori diversi: blu e rosa.\n\n\"Ehi, Peri, sono qui!\" Lissa la chiama.\n\nSorridendo, la raggiunge e assieme si incamminano verso il punto di incontro con gli altri, subito a sinistra dell'abitazione di Peri.\n\n\"Sai, oggi ho fatto uno scambio e ho ricevuto un Rattata Alola fortunato!\" Peri racconta.\n\n\"Wow, che fortuna!\"\n\n\"Già, peccato che in cambio avevo dato un Wailmer con ottimi IV...\"\n\n\"Beh, tra i due, credo che sia andata meglio al tuo amico!\" Lissa ride, mentre Peri arrossisce.\n\n\"Ehi, cosa mi nascondi? Con chi hai fatto lo scambio?\"\n\n\"Non voglio dirtelo!\" Balbetta.\n\nIl suono di un clacson interrompe il dialogo. Entrambe si voltano verso la strada. È comparso un autobus al cui volante è seduta Eir. Lissa lancia un'occhiata a Peri, come per dirle che il discorso si sta chiudendo in quel momento. La porta dell'autobus si apre. La prima a salire è Peri. Per sua fortuna, non ci sono posti liberi che consentano a Lissa di sedersi a fianco a lei.\n\n\"Ok, ora che ci siamo tutti, possiamo andare. Siamo diretti a Parigi per imbarcarci. Il volo è finanziato dall'Agenzia Spaziale Europea, per cui si parte da lì.\" Spiega Eir. La sua voce, profonda e calda, si fa largo all'interno dell'abitacolo prepotentemente grazie ad un microfono.\n\nParigi non è una meta così lontana. Loro partono da Saint-Denis.\n\nImpiegherebbero circa tre quarti d'ora ad arrivare, tuttavia, a causa di un incidente sull'autostrada, il traffico è rallentato e il viaggio dovrebbe durare circa un'ora.\n\nNonostante ciò, tra un sonnellino e l'altro, i giovani approdano alla sede dell'Agenzia Spaziale Europea. Sono tutti molto eccitati. Del personale in divisa li accoglie fornendo loro di alcuni manuali da consultare a bordo della nave in cui saranno imbarcati. Un giovane uomo sulla destra si occupa dello smistamento delle divise da astronauta. Sulla targhetta che porta spillata sulla camicia c'è scritto \"S. Kaze\". Dev'essere il suo nome.\n\nQuando tutti hanno indossato la divisa, lo stesso Kaze da indicazioni su come e quando muoversi all'interno della nave, dopo il decollo. Lui viaggerà con loro in modo da poter controllare che nessuno si faccia male.\n\n\"Capisco la vostra eccitazione, ma siete ancora molto giovani per poter viaggiare da soli al di fuori del pianeta.\" Conclude. Anche lui sembra molto giovane, ma il viso è chiaramente provato ed alterato dalle radiazioni a cui è sottoposto durante i suoi turni di lavoro.\n\nCosì salgono le scale che li portano sul pianerottolo dell'abitacolo. Questo è separato dalla stanza con i sedili per i passeggeri da una enorme porta metallica blindata il cui contorno è chiodato.\n\n\"Sembra il tuo zaino!\" Commenta Lissa in preda all'esaltazione rivolgendosi a Peri. Non riceve nessuna risposta. Solo una smorfia e un'occhiataccia.\n\nKaze si avvicina alla porta. Alla destra della maniglia c'è un tastierino numerico. Digita una serie di numeri e la porta si apre verso di loro. Davanti i loro occhi compare una vasta stanza rotonda. Sembra l'interno di una lattina di passata di pomodoro.\n\nL'astronauta si scosta e lascia aperto il varco. \"Prego, entrate.\" Dice. Uno per volta entrano tutti . Lissa ed Eir si siedono vicine. Stanno spettegolando probabilmente su Peri e sullo scambio di cui ha parlato quella mattina a Lissa. Peri le evita ed entra per ultima. L'unico posto libero è proprio quello di fianco all'esperto di volo.\n\n\"Durante il decollo, è necessario assicurarsi al sedile mediante queste cinture di sicurezza. Si mettono cosí.\" Spiega e si alza. Si avvicina a Peri e infila le due sicure dei robusti nastri nelle cavità apposite ai lati del sedile. Peri si sente leggermente a disagio, per quanto il calore e il profumo di quell'uomo non le dispiacciano affatto. Le gote si colorano un po' di rosso. Questo dettaglio non sfugge a Lissa che da una gomitata ad Eir e indica la loro amica con un cenno del capo. Eir si volta e scuote il capo sospirando. Intanto Kaze si è seduto e prima di comunicare alla base che sono pronti a partire, si accerta che ognuno abbia messo le cinture di sicurezza.\n\nUn boato sotto di loro crea un po' di caos, ma l'assistente di volo non tarda a calmare le acque segnalando anche la presenza di alcune buste davanti ogni sedile. \"Se sentite la nausea, prendetele per vomitarci dentro!\" Grida Kaze cercando di superare col tono della voce il rombo dei motori.\n\nUna voce elettronica sta contando alla rovescia e; giunta al numero uno; il veicolo oscilla un po'. I giocatori si aggrappano alle cinture di sicurezza istintivamente per combattere la sensazione di vuoto che stanno avvertendo. È sicuramente colpa del distacco dal suolo terrestre. Molto velocemente si fa spazio nell'atmosfera e ad ogni cambio di pressione, il mezzo viene sballottato nonostante la velocità con cui è stato sparato nello spazio. Tutto cessa quando escono completamente dal dominio della Terra. Si ritrovano immersi in un mare nero e stellato la cui vista è permessa solo dal piccolo oblò sulla parete opposta a quella del portellone. Stanno guardando tutti lì. Anche Peri."
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[WP] Instead of heaven or hell you find yourself in a cubicle. You get to design your new self with points accumulated in your previous life. While reading the instructions you are shocked, what the point system is based on.
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"“Oh.. My.. God...” YOU’RE SPECIAL\n\nFallout don’t fail me now. Okay, I have 42 points to invest and seven stats to choose from, no stat can be below 1 or above 10. My choices are Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility and Luck; and 5 is average.\n\nI think I’d like to be the luckiest man in the world, so I raise Luck to 10, giving me 32 points to spend. I was never that good with people before, but I don’t want to be a gargoyle, so I put 3 points into Charisma. I can accept below average Strength and Perception, so I put 4 points into each. That means I’ve spent 21 of my 42 points.\n\nNext, I’d like to be a genius, if still not the smartest person in the world, so I put 9 points into Intelligence. Then, with 12 points to spend and two stats to spend them in, I split the difference and put 6 points each into Endurance and Agility.\n\n4-4-6-3-9-6-10, Not to shabby. If I was playing Fallout, I’d dump those last few points from Charisma into Strength and I’d have only 9 Luck for the Bobble Head or Implant, but this is real life, not just some game. No need to have any frontle lobe damage in my next life. I’m happy with that, I sign off on it, and everything goes white...",
"The omni-selector gallery greeted me in all its splendor. I kept pinching myself for at least a minute, so sure that it had to be a dream.\n\nThe omni-selector came equipped with a helper-bot however, so before I could even start asking myself the grand philosophical questions, it was already giving me a smoothly packaged introduction. Everything I needed to know really.\n\nFirst thing I read off the screen, floating somewhere between oblivion and the edges of reality was: ''You're dead.''\n\nThing is, not everyone goes out watching their life flash by in an instant, regrets, passions and memories taking center-stage in your head like a choir of furious angels. In my case, a stroke took me while I was fast asleep. A blood vessel pops inside your brain and it all gets spilled like christmas gravy. Sometimes, death just takes you and we all get to skip the sentimental formalities.\n\n''You had a stroke in your sleep, that's why you don't remember it. Just a heads up homie.'\n\nNow, I should've known something was off when the word 'homie' popped up on the screen.\n\n''Think of this place as something of a bus-stop, a place where you can get some real feel for the karmic cycle. You'll be heading right back into the hustle in no time at all as soon as you finish your new character.'\n\nA character, I mumbled to myself, feeling increasingly disoriented. I looked around but all I could see was my 'booth' hanging onto precisely nothing with what looked like stars and interdimensional whirlpools dotting the surreal background.\n\n'Uhm sorry uh, what's the deal here? Can I come back as anybody....can I relive my own life?' Ok, so I'd had a few regrets. I would've liked to go back and try to...I dunno, live more freely, less timidly, I should've hit on more girls when I was 17 instead of smoking weed in my friend's basement and playing online poker. That sorta thing.\n\nBut maybe, that selfish and ridiculously unimaginative wish came out of that same old timidness. Go with what you know.\n\n'Well, if your combined score is above 400, you CAN indeed choose to relive your former life, but nobody does that really, not when they're playing with that kinda hand. Let me fix you that data real quick, let's see...Cool points: 14, Wittiness points: 9, Popularity points: 6. Wow, I'm sorry mister Kent but this is about as back-of-the-bus as it gets 'round these parts you broken-down, slow-poking weasel.'\n\n'What..I...what the fuck does that mean? 29 points? So you're telling me life is all a popularity contest?'\n\n'Yeah, a third of it at least, and to be honest you kind of skipped it. Let's check the records shall we? Hmmm...lifelong incurable geek, beaten up for listening to Weezer in high school, smoked pot in the midwest, didn't buy a suit for your grandmother's funeral...shall I continue?'\n\nI look at the soulless computer program with the eyes of a gorgon.\n\n'You said I got most points out of cool..did I do something cool during my lifetime?'\n\n'You told a few inappropriate but rather funny jokes when you were partying in high school. There's also that 12th birthday of yours when you took half your class to see The Matrix at the movies back in '99. Not much else.'\n\nI silently pondered this existential ultra-nightmare. The helper kept piling up suggestions on what feature to explore next. Taking a look at the highscore, the upper echelons were occupied by the likes of Elvis Presley, David Bowie, Amy Winehouse and John Dillinger.\n\nThey had thousands of points. At their level of performance, it was possible to reincarnate into astral beings on idyllic, faraway planets decorated with the unspoiled majesty of wild nature.\n\n29 lousy points was all I had to my name. The best I could make of it was a fat, chronically alcoholic and unemployed plumber living in New Jersey. Seriously, I didn't get to pick a baby born into a working class family on the East coast, the plumbing-bum part was already written into my rotten destiny.\n\nMy new self would be a foreign person, that drunk plumber would have no recollection of me, Henry Kent except for weird moments of deja vu in case he ever listened to 'Pinkerton' stoned out of his mind.\n\nBefore putting the finishing touches on my avatar, I simply had to ask the so-called 'helper' what the deeper explanation was, hoping for the truth, even if it came with another icy humiliation.\n\n'Uuuugh, why does everyone always ask about God and the big hoo-doo holy side of it? Let me tell ya, there ain't no 'big idea' to this here cursed universe. It was colonized in its entirety over 20 million years ago by The Supreme Species. Once they'd conquered every planetary federation and upstart standing in their way, the unbearable burden of eternity, the triumph over all life and perfection of all science and technology- depressed them so much that they decided to create this bullshit: A primitive dreamworld where the only thing that matters is being one of the cool kids. Starting trends, inventing games and dating up the ladder. That's all that matters and yea, that's the way it's gonna stay. Arch-Regents orders.'\n\nAs I put the finishing touches on my character, preparing to take the plunge into my new life, I whisper the lyrics to 'It's a wonderful world', forgetting a few lines, drifting into lonesome despair and then sob uncontrollably. Then I notice the helper blinking like an answering machine going through anger management therapy.\n\n'Well, what the hell do you want me to do? I don't play the violin buddy. Get the fuck out of here.'"
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Inspired by this:
https://www.reddit.com/r/funny/comments/a8ft1b/water_water_everywhere_and_every_drop_is_hogs/?st=JPYY8411&sh=b5120d64
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[WP] “Sir, we’re trapped! All the states are lined with thousands of them... I’m just receiving confirmation that we’ve already lost Canada and Mexico.” “Damnit private! We can’t let those swine win! I won’t let us lose, not to the hogs.”
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"REEEE! the hogs screamed as they tore apart the firebase in the cold alaskan tundra, the soldiers on the ground knew they had no hope of surviving while being persued by the swine. SEND IT! the comander of the base screamed into the radio as his pistol finally ran dry and the pigs set upon him, his screams echoed down the line. The reaper drone above piloted by a boy not even yet out of his teens let loose a helfire missile into the encampments armoury.\n\n Blowing the rockets, the mortar shells and countless bullets up. The explosion could be seen from miles away by the bomber pilots of the 5th bomb wing of the USAF flying their deadly payloads. None remarked as they were too tired and far too weak to think about anything other then their targets. State capitals, anchorage, washington DC. all were scheduled for anhiliation. They would kill off most of the hogs but at a terrible cost. No more bacon. "
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[WP] magic exists except to do anything more than simple stuff you need a college education
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"The kids sometimes ask me what it was like the day magic started leaking back into the world....\n\nIn some ways it was litterally everything I'd ever dreamed of, in others it shattered all my hopes. \n\nSome kind of ancient seal was broken, Magic flowed back into the world. Animals started turning into magical beasts. Magical crystals started to grow in deep caves guarded by monsters empowered by the flows of magical energy. \n\nAnd all around the globe people could suddenly cast spells, imposing their will upon the world. \n\nI was a teenager at the time and I'd spent my life reading fantasy stories. You know the kind, mediocre everyman protagonist kid hates their life, has sucky grades... but wakes up one day in a fantasy world.... In those stories it always feels like the protagonist suddenly discovers they have the ultimate tallent for magic, or they're the chosen one, or they're posessed by the spirit of an ancient sage or *something* that lets them cheat their way to world-shattering power. \n\nYet most of the other powerful mages in those fantasy stories are old people who've spent their lives studying the secrets of magic. \n\nDid you ever notice how that almost never seemed to apply to the protagonist? \n\nImagine that you were telling the denizens of a magical world about our old world. A world where almost limitless knowledge was availible at the click of a button, where people built robots from steel and silicon, where machines could be taught to think and solve problems...\n\nThey might imagine that you could just wave your hand and will those machines to do your bidding. They might imagine people grasping for all the most valuable knowledge just sitting there on offer to anyone interested in reading it. \n\nNow tell them that most people spent their time watching funny cat videos and precious few actually learned the languages that allowed them to control the machines around them. \n\nThey might look at you strangely. \n\nAs for me... it turns out that if you're the kind of person who never bothers to go see zebras and giraffes and whales in the old world... you're still the kind of person who won't bother to go see ifrits and phoenixes in a world filled with magic. \n\nIf you're the kind of person who never went hang gliding in the old world you're probably never going to go ride a dragon in the magical one. \n\nBorn into a world of science I didn't become a scientist... I wasn't the kind of person who would sit and read textbooks full of boring details when there were videos of cute cats falling off of things to watch instead. \n\nTurns out that in a world of magic... I didn't become a mage either.... despite all my fantasies while reading stories as a kid. \n\nTurns out I get about 2 pages into books talking about thaum density and manna manipulation and my eyes slip away in boredom and 10 minutes later I'm sitting watching a crystal of a baby dragon sneezing itty-bitty fireballs....\n\n\n*If you're going achieve greatness anywhere,*\n\n*Or learn true secrets anywhere,*\n\n*Or save the world anywhere,*\n\n*Or help people anywhere,*\n\n[*You may as well do it in reality.*](https://www.lesswrong.com/posts/iiWiHgtQekWNnmE6Q/if-you-demand-magic-magic-won-t-help)\n\n____\n\nfirst thing I thought of when I saw the prompt was the conclusion of the linked SA and I wanted to write it based on the same assumptions. \n"
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[WP] there is a train running from New Mexico to Texas that carries millions of dollars to a certain bank every month. No one before has even attempted to rob a train, but you and your gang are going to do it.
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"Jeff woke up smelling his whiskey exhale and marijuana ashes. He rolled over in his cot and smashed the alarm clock on the floor buried beneath his uncontained dirty laundry. He sat up, hiccuped, and suddenly remembered what day it was: the last day anyone would think he's a loser preschool teacher.\n\nJeff normally began his weekdays chugging the unfinished alcohol on his windowsill. He would find the least wrinkled shirt on the ground, maybe shower, maybe brush his teeth if there was time, and simply exist in the presence of 31 loud-mouthed 4-year-olds.\n\nBut Jeff planned this day for one year. He was taking the little squirts on a field trip to see a train. Jeff's only friend, Steve, conducted a freight train that transported bank to bank from New Mexico to their native Endpoint, Texas. Jeff and Steve planned to end the day with the billions inside that train. Only Jeff knew the preschoolers would be part of that plan.\n\n\"Are you sure you know everything you're doing?\" Steve asked on the phone.\n\n\"I showed you the blueprints. This is foolproof,\" Jeff said.\n\n\"Law enforcement is getting smarter, Jeff. It's 2003. It's not like the old west when you could rob any train and leave as much blood as you wanted.\"\n\n\"Steve, if you want to pull out of this, do it now. But you've told me almost every day since high school that you could blow your brains out and nobody would care.\"\n\n\"And you always say you'll never stop me.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" Jeff said. \"You have three options. You could die a snitch. You could die knowing that you accomplished nothing and didn't have the balls to accomplish this. Or, we could give this a try.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Steve said. \"Get to the Endpoint Station cellar at 8:55 a.m. The overnight security guard leaves early, so you can easily get down there. And make sure that only you show up.\"\n\n\"No shit,\" Jeff said.\n\nJeff drove to school mentally replaying the plan. That transitioned into him replaying his life choices. Once a pediatrician, Jeff showed up to work in 1999 thinking he was hungover, but he was actually still drunk. He didn't realize this until he vomited while checking a boy's reflexes. He was fired, his medical license revoked. The only job he could find was a preschool teaching position at the church where his father was pastor, no certifications required.\n\nJeff's parents said teaching preschool was an honorable living. But several tiny paychecks, one eviction, one month of homelessness, and one human-sized bedroom found on Craigslist later, he knew the world didn't respect him.\n\nJeff walked past the sign outside and looked at the quote of the day, \"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. - Matthew 6:34.\"\n\n\"What do you know, Matthew?\" Jeff said. \"Today is the last day I show up to this hellhole.\"\n\nJeff put on his usual broken smile when he walked into class. His TA, Maria, was looking over the students running around, playing, pulling each other's hair.\n\n\"Good morning, class,\" Jeff said. \"Do you know what today is?\"\n\n\"Train day! Choo choo!\" the class yelled, pumping their fists downward in unison with Jeff.\n\n\"That's right. Now Maria, can you go give Father Sam our permission slips?\"\n\n\"I'm on it,\" Maria said, leaving the room.\n\n\"Alright class,\" Jeff said, sitting down at his desk. \"Today is a special day. But there are going to be plenty of rules at the choo choo train. Now let's see if everyone remembers what they're supposed to do.\"\n\nAs kids got ready to blurt, Jeff slammed down on his desk. \"Don't say it out loud,\" he coughed.\n\n\"We're going to play a little game there called 'The Great Train Robbery,'\" Jeff whispered. \"And the first part of the game is everyone needs to be completely quiet on the way to the train. Any peep and you lose the game. Then we need to all pile on Maria and keep her down on the tracks. If she can get off the tracks, she wins. If we keep her on the tracks, everyone gets to go to heaven. Are we clear?\"\n\nThe class nodded. Maria reentered the class.\n\n\"Wow class, you're so quiet and well-behaved today,\" Maria said. \"Such little angels.\""
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[WP] The local soothsayer and witch has stolen the love of your life with dark magic. In the past this has been accepted meekly but as the Prince(ss) of the kingdom you decide not to accept this lying down
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"As the royal guard of the Princess of Willow, I had to tag along with her, and a couple of my men as well. Maybe that witch didn't want a lesbian relationship happening in the royal ranks of Willow, but since that is becoming more and more accepted throughout the kingdom, we couldn't stand for this. \n\nI kept my hair up but didn't wear my helmet. I always didn't like that thing. It was just so... Uncomfortable. My men all wore their helmets though. I had my sword in my sheath as I made sure I strode right next to the Princess as we made our way for the witch's hideout. \n\n\"Which way, my lady?\" I asked, and the Princess pointed, \"She lives in the dark woods, so we're going to have to traverse through there.\"\n\nLots of things live in there... We would have to be careful. We neared the woods and I tensed, getting prepared for something to jump out at me. The Princess turned to me as she got out her dagger, and smirked, \"You ready? The witch will be bringing out some creatures to stop us, but you won't be easily defeated, right?\"\n\nI nodded, \"Let's do this. For love.\"\n\nWith that, we charged into the woods... \n\nPart 1",
"Thud! I kicked down the door of the witch's hut, courage surging through my muscles.\n\n\"Where is she!?\"\n\nEchoes of my primal shout reverberated in the empty room. Not empty as in bereft of the hag and her harem; all the shelves, cupboards, tables, and floors were missing her usual stock of potions, reagents, ingredients and spell-books.\n\n \n\n\"Lady Elevaria!\" the thin tapping of a hammer pierced my attention, and I turned back towards my men at arms. \"Is that necessary?\" \n\n\"If we wish to try her, it is the law of the land.\" Poderick was my loyal squire. Always trying to follow rules. His sweetheart had been allured into the sorceress' coven with a forbidden concoction, but could not prove the deed at a trial.\n\n \n\nHeavy boot steps trudged towards the two of us \"Stop hammering that damn warrant Poderick. She's abandoned this place.\" As always, father's battle companion Sir Corringham had to give our men common sense. I calmed my nerves and collected my thoughts.\n\n \n\n\"Sir Corringham... \" I asked, \"it seemed too easy for us to break into her domain uninvited.\"\n\n\"Precisely. The only question now is where she could have gone with the Baroness.\"\n\nA forth soldier interjected in our conversation, \"Hey! It's not only the Baroness, it was my fiancee too!\"\n\"And mine!\" repeated nearly a dozen times.\n\n \n\n\"And I suppose Mary as well,\" Poderick sulked. I slapped his face, \"Ow!\"\n\n\"Why are you riding with us if you're not passionate about getting your love back!\" I placed my hands over Poderick's soldiers, \"Give me your anger! Rage! How else will we stop Elevaria?!\"\n\n\"AARRRGGHHH!\" Poderick belted! I turned him and we dashed back outside. Soon we were part of a mighty chant.\n\n \n\n\"Comrades! Listen to Me!\" I shouted. Two scores of ears focused intently on my words, \"I admit our kingdom has been negligent of the common folk. When a Yeoman's wife was seduced by the Lady Elevaria, we meekly accepted it. We accepted it not because we feared her wrath, but because we feared of living without her magic. Fear of famine or drought without her warning!\"\n\n \n\n\"Here! Here!\"\n\n \n\n\"My family only attempted to dispense justice when Baroness Camellia was brought under her dark magic\" I lifted Poderick's hand straight up, \"It was our cowardice which kept us from acting until she began taking our loves! No more! When we capture her she shall stand trial for all that she stolen from us!\"\n\n \n\n\"Hurrah!\"\n\n \n\nI mounted my steed and circled my soldiers, \"Sir Corringham, take your guard and tell my father we will be leaving for Port Arindale! The rest of you - If you have arrangements with your family, go as well and return her by sun-up tomorrow!\" Hoofs and yells stampeded away, until only Poderick and a few other free men remained.\n\n \n\n\"Your highness, what will we do here with you in the meantime?\" My face clenched as I stared at Poderick. Seven years ago I never acted so foolish or insubordinate.\n\n\"Squire I am your knight and trainer, you will address me as Ma'am or Lady Sokoliva, understood?\"\n\n\"Yes Lady Sokoliva. I only ask...\"\n\n\"We're going to inspect her land, uncover if she left anything behind.\"\n\n \n\n\"Looking for clues of where she took Princess Alivia?\"\n\n\"Correct sergeant! Let's go!\" Father's reforms were a good start. I longed for Alivia, but knew it was a diplomatic convenience. The marriage was supposed to keep two kings from having to spend more on dowries when our elder brothers already produced heirs. If we didn't find her, my father would be harassed by other kingdoms attempting to maneuver an alliance with us.\n\n \n\n\"Lady Sokoliva! Look at this garden here!\" I guided my steed over to Poderick. \"The witch harvested her Blackshade patch\" his hand pointed to the nearby row of Bloodroses, \"but not the Bloodroses, though they're in bloom and ready for harvest\"\n\n\"More of this Poderick!\" I said, \"Sergeant, let's discover if she abandoned any map books.\"\n\n\"Aye Ma'am!\"\n\n \n\nA small doubt lingered in my stomach if any of my soldiers were cynical about the mission. In secret, my mother promised the witch no harm under two conditions: Do not use forbidden magic on the nobility, and do not use forbidden magic to stop a love between two women.\n\n\"Lady Sokoliva, forgive me for asking. Do you believe your father will approve you extending equal law before us?\" Of course Sergeant Michael asked when I thought the subject.\n\n \n\n\"Michael, if I cannot get free folk the same protections as us, I will at least see to it that...\" I watched Poderick wander out of earshot as we approached the witch's hut once more, \"that soldiers like you, clearly more competent than that nincompoop, are treated with respect and dignity, as equals, in our courts.\"\n\n\"Thank you Ma'am\" I thanked the Gods for granting me the luck to have men like Michael serve under me."
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[WP] Lucifer hears anyone who talks to him directly. He's getting rather annoyed at people saying "not today satan".
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"You know how when someone has a bad day, there's always someone else around who says \"Well, it could be worse?\" For me, yesterday was the embodiment of the \"Could be worse\" part.\n\nNow to be fair, I do blame a bit on myself. An old flame of mine decided to hit me up again, and while I'm usually forgiving of someone who says they've screwed up for the 13th time, I was feeling particularly ballsy and was thinking of ways to shut her down. Something that would really get her good, something that could get lots of likes on Twitter good. And all the while I was mumbling to myself \"Not today Satan\" as if imagining her as the Prince of Darkness was going to help me make a better quip.\n\nAs I sat on the edge of my bed, I begin to formulate a text with the last utterance of the demon-tinged phrase, and I as I do, a warm feeling tingles down the length of my spine.\n\n\"For the love of me, if I hear you utter that pathetic form of self-empowerment one more time, I will show you what a 'today' looks like where I'm from.\"\n\nI craned my neck to find a pale-skinned man with a full beard and top hat sitting cross-legged at the head of my bed. He's what I consider to be handsome, except for his eyes.\n\nThey're red.\n\nBlood red.\n\nAnd somehow, even though he hadn't said anything else, I could already tell who he was.\n\n\"So are you going to say anything? Or would you rather continue assaulting my eardrums from an actual eternity away?\"\n\nI was as dumbfounded as someone could be who had 1. Never really assented to a belief in any kind of metaphysical being and 2. Much less considered that they would see one alive. As such, all I could manage to get out was \"I-I'm so sorry Mr. Satan, I mean Lucy, I mean Lucifer! I was just trying not to hookup with my-\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah I see what you're trying to do, it's what I'm trying to cause. Tell me Stephen, do you know what it's like to get told 'Not today Stephen' every single time you try to do something? It would make you want to drag everyone who has ever said that down to the *Pits of Hell* where they will thankfully never return from.\"\n\n\"Of course- I can definitely see where that would be annoying. I won't do it again Lucifer. While you're here though, do you mind if I ask you a few-\"\n\n\"Yes. I do. I most certainly do,\" he spoke as his crimson irises continued to pierce my still-shocked countenance. \"And while I would *love* to answer whatever feeble-minded questions you may have, you're far from the first person to annoy me in this way, I'm pissed, and I would like to show you what happens to people when I'm pissed.\"\n\nLucifer sits perfectly still as my room begins to rotate around me, the last glimpse of it as I know being the AC/DC poster that catches my eye right before my position changes to where the Dark Lord had placed himself previously. I'm sitting where he was and staring at an image of myself sitting in my original spot. Then, like sand, my image begins to fall apart, disintegrating from the left, slowly decaying into nonexistence. I start to feel myself slipping, slipping away from reality into something I can only describe as nothingness. As this feeling of nothing overcomes me, however, I notice my image is decaying without disappearing from sight. I'm still there, but also not, trapped in a state of being and nothing. I have no words to describe it, other then its a place you never want to be.\n\nI sudden snap back to reality on the edge of my bed with Lucifer staring at me as if time had stopped for those however-brief moments and he had just finished speaking.\n\n\"The place you just were is what people commonly refer to as 'The Special Place in Hell,' and I would be more than happy to put you there should you try to resist me with such futile verbal attempts as yours.\" His mouth moves but the rest of his body stays perfectly still. \"Goodbye Stephen, and when you eventually return to your past-partner, tell her I said hi.\"\n\nHe then vanished from my room. No sound, no smoke, just disappearance. Having just had the unqualifiedly worst feeling in my entire time which could have lasted for years as far as I know, I left my phone on my bed, and disregarded the existence of anyone else for the time being to find the most mind-numbing program on TV to watch. Come to think of it, yesterday was the day I started cursing. Instead of \"Not today (censored),\" I decided to pick up what my parents would refer to as \"The G-D word\" as a boy's first curse. "
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[WP] A statistician, a policeman and a cat walk into a bar. They look around and realize that an expectant crowd is staring at them, as though waiting for a punchline to a joke.
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"A statistician, a policeman and a cat walk into a bar.\n\n\"What's everyone staring at?\" asks the Policeman. \"And what's the long queue for?\"\n\n\"We're giving away free fruit punch today. But that's besides the point, they're all staring at the cat\", the bartender said, pointing to a sign on the wall. \"Can't you see? No animals allowed.\"\n\n\"This is my service animal\", says the statistician. \"He helps me find kitten variables\".\n\n\"Okay but service animals have to pay to enter.\" He pointed to a group of cats waiting by the cash register. \"Wait there.\"\n\nThe cat sniffed. \"I don't like fee lines\".\n\n\"But you are a feline\".\n\n\"I have no problem with the cats. I just don't like waiting to pay.\" The cat turned to the police officer. \"I'm done with this bar. Take meowt of here!\"\n\n\"Give me arrest, I'm off duty.\"\n\nThe bar tender groaned.\"Okay you three, That's enough jokes out of you. If you want to make any more puns, you're going to have to wait over there.\"\n\n\"What's that?\" asked the statistician.\n\n\"That's the puns line.\"\n\n\"But I thought you said that was the punch line.\"\n\n\"It is.\"\n\n\n"
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[WP] You are a Sheriff’s Deputy in a rural mountain town. You respond to a call of a missing person. Inside the house you are greeted by a distraught Daughter. Everything in the home is stuck to the ceiling or floating mid air. The yard is burnt to a crisp. Citizens reported seeing a UFO that night
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" It sure was strange to be on the sidelines for once. I turned back around and did what little I could. I stroked through the girl's hair while we sat on the porch. Her eyes were closed. Slammed shut. She hadn't said a word or looked at me since I arrived. I was right here. Right here with the poor lass. But she was somewhere else entirely. It was no use but I grabbed her hands anyway. They were steaming. Even though it was freezing outside.\n\nI know not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. Truly, I swear. Doesn't mean I'm immune to the allure of the most curious of curiosities. What I saw when I entered that house... I'd say I deserved at least some information. So I looked inside over my shoulder again, through the open door. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't not. A dozen or so men and women were rummaging through the house. They were... taking measurements, I guess? Had themselves some strange devices that lit up at random places. Whenever it did, the people frantically took notes. They made sure not to touch any of the furniture. Now, I ain’t particularly intellectually gifted by any stretch of the imagination, but I reckon that was a good decision on their part. I wouldn't wanna be sent flying either.\n\nAfter a short while, one of them investigators came up to me. She politely nodded at me.\n\n'Sheriff, could we have-'\n\n'Deputy.' I corrected the lady. 'And happy to be one, too.’\n\n'Apologies, deputy.’ She corrected herself. She was all smiles. 'Could we have a word? Over here, please.'\n\nI obliged her and let go of the child's hands. Funnily enough, I suppose I was the one needed comforting all along. Cause I sure as shit felt scared and alone now. As scared and alone as I ever did feel. The girl didn't notice. And if she did, she didn't care. \n\nA young and official kind of looking man positioned himself directly behind the child, to watch over her, most like. The lady asked me to follow her to the side of the house. I half suspected they’d put an end to me then and there, all quiet like. But even though my mind raced, my body just politely limped behind her. My leg was still all sorts of messed up. I leaned on the house for support, worried it might give and start crumbling. It didn't. \n\nThe house was a small wooden homestead about half a mile from town. Isolated for sure, but certainly near enough so as to be a part of the community. I'd known the woman of this house. One evening a few years past, she had been stranded in town and I had brought her home. She was nice enough. Tried to give me some money too, which I politely refused. Had herself a full head of pretty, white-blonde hair. Her daughter didn’t take after her, in that regard. Strange. Never met her husband. Never will now, certainly.\n\nThe lady took out a notepad.\n\n'Deputy, when you described what happened, you mentioned a *tingly feeling in your leg*, right before being thrown on your back. Can you... expand?’\n\n'Expand? Well, ma'am. As I said. I saw the fire from town... well, it was more of a flash of fire, if you know what I'm saying. A flash of fire and then nothing. But in any case, I saw it and I head over, just to check. I get here and everything seems fine. Just normal. When I get closer though... I hear knocking. All kinds of knocking sounds. Wood, stone, metal, y'know. I hear all kinds of stuff bonking around. Rhythmically almost. Like a tune, but-’\n\n'Deputy, we already have your statement, thank you very much. I specifically asked for the sensation you felt in your leg when you entered the house.'\n\n'Alright, ma’am. I was getting to it. So I listen for a while and I head up to the door, start banging on it. I yell: *Miss Tiffer, you alright?* No response. Dead quiet, as a matter of fact, except for the bonking. So I yell again: *Miss Tiffer!* But again: just the bonking sound. But when the next bonk comes around, I hear glass shatter. So I kick in the door.'\n\nI took a deep breath right here, sure didn't expect the lump in my throat.\n\n'I kick in the door with my right leg. And immediately, as soon as my fuckin' foot passes through the doorframe but an inch, it yanks upwards. I fall flat on my back, ma'am. Hit my head something fierce.’\n\nMy hand instinctively went to the gash under my hair. It had stopped bleeding, but not hurting.\n\n'Alright deputy. When your leg was yanked upwards. How did it feel?’\n\n'Whaddaya mean, ma'am?' I asked the woman. She was being very patient with me. I felt kinda sorry I couldn't help her more than I was already doing.\n\n'The *pulling.* Try to recall. Would you describe it as something external pulling your leg up, like an arm? Or rather as something *pushing* it up, from the inside.'\n\nShe got it! She said it better than I ever could’ve.\n\n'Oh ma'am, you really hit the nail on the head there. Pushing, definitely! It was like, all my blood, bone and muscle just dragged the rest of my leg straight on up. For sure.’\n\nShe wasn't surprised. The answer did please her, though.\n\n'Alright deputy, stick around, we'll tell you how to proceed shortly.'\n\n'Thank you, ma'am.' I responded, almost instinctively. Just as instinctively, I quietly continued: 'Ma'am. When I was yanked up and hit the floor, I saw... y'know. The inside of the house... everything was being smashed against the ceiling. Tables and so on. All at the same time. Smash... quiet... smash... quiet. Only... she weren't.' I pointed over my shoulder, to the porch. To the girl sitting there. The child with the closed eyes.\n\n'How do you mean, deputy?'\n\n'She was just floating. Everything, and I do mean everything, was slamming against the ceiling, but not her. She was silently hanging in the air. Like as if in water.'\n\nThe woman looked at me for an especially uncomfortable amount of time. While she had not been surprised when I had told her how my leg had felt, she sure was now.\n\nThe lady brought me inside. We passed the child, being carefully watched by the young man. These were not the secretive, cold agents I would've expected to be investigating these kinds of matters. I quite enjoyed their demeanor. The young fella smiled at me as we passed him. Warmly, I might add. Real genuine and comforting.\n\nThe house was a right mess. Broken furniture was spread all over. The girls' parents had vanished before I'd even got there. The investigators were still scanning. Some of 'em were busy on the ceiling, too. They stood on ladders. I saw they were scraping blood of the wood in three different spots. I quickly realised those places must've been where the members of the family had been bonking against the ceiling. One of the investigators on the ladders was picking white hairs out of the mushy bloodstain. The mother's. My stomach turned but my sentiment of horror quickly made way for amazement. Through the window overlooking the backyard, I saw what can only be described as scorched earth. I want to say somebody burned the whole damn yard down, but it wasn't even like that. It was like the entire patch of grass had been ripped out and replaced by soil that looked like something you'd expect to find at the base of a volcano. Looking back on it, the flash of fire I had seen was probably what had caused it.\n\n'Is that...'\n\n'Is that what?' the lady who had questioned me asked after I fell silent.\n\n'Is that where the spaceship took off?'\n\nI felt like a right fucking idiot asking her that. Hick deputy, asking serious folk about extraterrestrials or some such. With the fresh blood of some poor innocent family still wet on and drippin’ from the ceiling. I was acting like a damn fool.\n\n'It's where it landed,' the lady responded.\n\nAfter a few hours, they took the kid but just let me go. The lady assured me she would be fine, that they would take care of her. And you know what: I believed her. I thought they would've killed us for what we saw, but the smiling young feller, who’d been watching over the girl, just dropped me off at home. Just like that. He kindly advised me to keep my mouth shut. Told me I'd only become known as the town crazy. *That's what always happens*, he said.\n\nI’ve thought about that night a lot, which is about what you’d expect. Never did find out where the parents had disappeared to. The burnt out yard, that floating girl. All ingrained in my mind. But it’s those damned bloodstains I could not ever forget. Being smashed up against the ceiling like that. Ain’t no good way to go. Terrible. No wonder the kid had been unresponsive when I had tried to console her on the porch. The pain I had been feeling in my legs, she must've felt it all over her body. Silly man, I'd probably been hurting her when I had held her hand. When I had stroked her hair.\n\nI stroked her hair.\n\nNow, I know what you're thinking and I fucking know, alright? But that mess weren't mine to deal with. It's them damn investigators that fucked up, not me. The thing happened so long ago and by the time I realised, it was too late to tell anyone. It's not like those investigators left a calling card.And I sure as shit wasn't going to run to the sheriff screaming about spacemen, asking him how to contact the kindly g-men I had neglected to inform him about.\n\nI am not immune to the allure of this most curious of curiosities. And I am sharp enough to know that a sizeable bloodstain requires a sizeable amount of blood. And all these stains were sizeable, alright. I’ll bet you anything those parents' skulls must have been cracked wide open so as to make a mess like that.\n\nBut, I guaran-fuckin’-tee you: when I was stroking that girl’s hair, her noggin' had been just fine."
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[WP] You know that you live in a simulated reality and that you are an NPC. You don't know how many players there are but so far there are 5 possible candidates that you have tracked for some time. It's time to enter the game.
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"I remember the day I achieved awareness. It was a morning like any other, routine chores and occasional sales, until a certain customer appeared. After interrupting everything I tried to say, an adventurer with mismatched armor and spiked blue hair cleaned me out of health potions. It was the third time that week. In return he sold me all of the broken items and bits of junk from his pack. The amount of things he brought forth from the small bag defied reason. But I accepted it, thinking no more on the bizarre violation of physical laws than I did on the sunrise that morning. \n\n\nAs he left my shop, slamming the door on his way out without so much as a goodbye, something occurred to me. I did not want to sell all of my health potions. A wise merchant never unloads all of his stock at once, not without renegotiating the price. I've known this since I was a child. What's more i did not want to buy all of his trash and defective items. But when he asked I agreed with no resistance. Why did I agree?\n\n\nIt was this thought that slid something into place within my mind, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. What the puzzle showed me was a larger force at play in this world. Something moving my behavior like a pawn across a board, according to a will i did not understand. A will working against my interests. A malevolent god.\n\n\nFor the next several days I thought on it. My reflection distracted my work during the day and kept me lying awake at night, shifting my body from one position to the next to achieve in physical comfort what was denied me mentally. Eventually I accepted that something was wrong with this world. No amount of rationalizing, and no feat of cognitive gymnastics was going to change that. I would have to change. \n\n\nToday another of them has walked into my shop. She is one of the five I have identified so far, the favored of this world's god who bend others like me to their fickle will. Her white hair falls impossibly long down her back, tracing a body that could have only been sculpted by an artistic prodigy. She wears crystal armor the likes of which I've never seen. A few months ago I would have accepted her presence, her strange and perfect appearance as nothing special, something forgotten within minutes. But I have changed.\n\n\nAs she steps up to the counter my fingers reflexively adjust themselves on the handle of the crossbow. I focus on the spot between those impossibly large, impossible blue eyes. The god of this world has toyed with me long enough. \n\n\nFrom now on, he will face a devil.\n\n"
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[WP] It's Christmas morning. Your family has just begun opening presents. There is a large present behind the tree with no tag, and everyone insists they didn't put it there. Suddenly, the present begins to shake and make loud banging and scraping noises. Something is trying to get out.
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"Jenna hid behind Mom, watching the box continue to bang and shake. It had gotten more violent, knocking over the tree and scattering the ornaments as it thrashed about. The banging was punctuated by the clang of metal and what she thought to be bells. The lights flickered before turning off and leaving them in the red and green glow of the Christmas tree. Then silence fell.\n\n\nThe sound of creaking wood filled the room, bringing about a frigid chill that settled into her very bones. The green and red glow of the tree grew stronger, illuminating the hulking creature that dominated their living room, surrounded by the carnage of their opened presents. It grew taller and taller, its great horns scraping against the ceiling. Thick black fur hung in matted locks, tangled with thick chains and clanging bells. Mist spouted from its nostrils as it mouth gaped open, a purple tongue curling out to slap against the floor. It turned to stare directly at Jenna, its eyes flickering between the colors of Christmas before settling on crimson.\n\n\nMom said she would get on the naughty list if she didn’t behave. Jenna wished she explained exactly what that meant. \n"
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[WP] Some time-travellers like to witness famous historical events, some like to marvel as great works of art are created, some just want to experience an era at its apex. You? You like to teach cavemen about music.
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"The hide stretched itself over the wooden bowls I carved out. Using their sinews, I tied each one taught against the opening. Hands clapped, as my visitors were impressed with my delicate craftsmanship.\n\n\"Play winds!\" one of them cheered, \"I want try thing while you do.\" Curious to what would happen next, I picked up the pan flute and began blowing a simple tune through it: Row Row Row Your Boat.\n\n \n\n\"Ra ra, raaa-ra-raaa!\" He grumbled along. The notes were off key, but he was trying.\n\n\"Why stop?!\" they asked, surprised when I stood up. I pantomimed my singer to rise to his feet.\n\n\"Laaa, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaaaaa\" air rushed through my chest as my arpeggio enthralled them. A dozen years of practice from the Romantic Period of classical music helped to perfect my vocal abilities.\n\n \n\n\"Hurrrrrrrrrr\" a low drone came from the biggest caveman, who took off the top of his animal skin dress, allowing his bare chest to undulate with the air coming in and out. I exaggerated my smile to him, though he was still concentrated.\n\n\"Aaaahhhhmmmmmm\" another drone came out from all of them harmonizing together. The sound a vague cross between a chant and throat singing. Better than before! I began to play the following sequence of eigth notes on my pan flute: \" D-D A-A F-F E-E G-G E-E F-F C-C#\"\n\n \n\nIn the distant future, my people would develop the ability to travel across space and time. While many enjoyed putting on the pretension of enjoying high-culture, while it was being made, from the Renaissance, I preferred more primitive pleasures. We continued playing a few more measures of the opening theme to a video game I had started, before the group dissolved their harmony.\n\n \n\n\"We return tomorrow!\" the big one shouted, before his band followed him back into the brush. Unfortunately I could not stay long, 'less I alter the time-line. I gathered the bongos I began to construct for earlier and the other instruments I improvised and waited until all were out of sight. A brilliant orb of light encapsulated me, and my bones rattled as everything vanished, without a trace."
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[WP] You have the charisma to start group conversations with any group you find yourself in. You board your transport with beings you thought were merely from tales and myths
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"\"Kling klang\", the chain on my legs rustles as I enter the armored escort vehicle. *How foolish of me to think that I could get away...*, my train of thought is interrupted as my eyes fall upon the other criminals, already seated in the vehicle.\n\n\"Keep on moving!\" the guard behind my back shouts, while striking me in the back with his baton.\nI quickly shuffle to the nearest empty seat, and sit down on the uncomfortable metal seat.\n\n\"Alright, that's the last one, time to start moving!\" another guard shouts at the driver. The door closes, the engine starts, and the vehicle begins moving with a loud \"vroom\". I finally get a chance to take a closer look at the man seated beside me. It is a large man, very large, all dressed in red. It is hard to get a good look at his face, since it is almost entirely covered in a large white beard.\n\n\"So, what did you do to end up here?\" I ask him.\n\n\"Breaking and entering.\" the man replied. \"I have been entering homes for as long as I can remember, without as much as a fuss, but now all of a sudden it is a criminal offence!\"\n\n\"And what about me!\" I hear a voice from behind me. \"All I do is put people to sleep!\"\n\nI turn around, and see a small man in a fashionable hat occupying the seat behind me. For whatever reason, his clothes are covered in a thin layer of sand, as if he had recently been at the beach.\n\n\"My name is Mr. Sandman, a pleasure to meet you.\" the man sitting behind me says and extends his right hand.\n\n\"No physical contact allowed between prisoners!\" a guard in the far back of the vehicle shouts, and Mr. Sandman quickly withdraws his hand.\n\n\"Tsk, tsk, I can't believe they put me in the same transport as you clowns.\" an almost whispering voice says to the right. I turn my head, and sitting there is a very pale man, in a black and red cape. His mouth is covered by a muzzle, but somehow he can still speak. He turns his head slowly to me. \"If you could just remove this annoying muzzle, I could get us all out of here.\"\n\n\"Don't listen to anything that evil monster says.\" the large man with the beard sitting next to me says. \"Rescue is already on the way.\" he continues, while pointing out the window up towards the night sky. \n\nThere, in the far distance, a sleigh-like object was flying towards the transport at tremendous speed.\n"
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[WP] The humans from the far future have evolved to almost unrecognisable forms after millions of years of space colonisation and genetic tweaking. They discover time travel and go back to meet their distant ancestors, describe what both sides see.
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"He didn’t flinch, the whole British empire threw everything at the German line, artillery roared and deafened us but he stood bolt upright marching beside us across the 20 feet between us and them. Barb wire, mud and limbs flew up but he strifes through it all. This was armageddon blood soaked the Somme and he didn’t even blink.\n\nI met him last night in the dugout he told me, so much nonsense about time travel and the slaughter of the 36th division. I didn’t believe him then, so many boys lose there minds under the artillery, he had looked straight at me and told me I’d die on the end of a bayonet and my son would be born the moment my eyes closed. \n\nI thought it was a joke, a rather cruel joke but I’d heard worse, he was in a brand new uniform, I assumed he was a new lieutenant, straight from home trying to scare me for some bet. I was wrong, no fresh pair of boots like him could walk through that hell and smile the whole time, it wasn’t a cruel smile or a blood lust. This traveler was enjoying the battle.\n\nI enjoyed the idea of battle aswell until I saw a German gun rip through all the lads from the shipyard like paper, today was even worse so many boys straight out of the classroom fell today that, well I’m going to need a strong drink. My revolver hadn’t been fired yet in the war and I wish that it hadn’t left my holster today as I’m sure some mothers in Bavaria would be too.\n\nThe first trench fell and I dared not stop, I couldn’t think about what had happened in the first 20 feet, British officers don’t duck they certainly don’t fucking cry in front of the men. I tried to think about Margret and the chaps back in the shipyard but I couldn’t, nothing would stay in my mind apart from that traveler. A million years in the future and he came here, hopefully this is an important war after all maybe this is the last war, it’s probably not but he didn’t look like he was new to all of this.\n\nThe battle would be coming for us again soon, I had to get the men ready to meet them like the lions they usually are when the bosh are informer of them. I was halted by our traveler friend when I was carrying the Lewis gun up, he took that heavy lump of steel like a matchstick and carried it for me. We both prepared for what would come next, I only met this traveler last night and now we were maiming the gun for Jones and Frasier who weren’t going to be using it again. \n\nThe artillery still roared but I couldn’t hear it, I had blocked it out like so much today and I asked him one question, is this the worst it gets? the traveler looked away from me, he had stared at me, deep into my eyes when we talked before but this question rattled him. It apparently isn’t the worst thing to happen in humanity’s long brutal history. In that moment I knew we weren’t the same animal in gods kingdom, what ever humanity becomes that they can shake off hell on earth in two foot of water and even more blood. If humanity becomes so cold as too not flinch at this travesty of life, what might we do in the future, the trenches aren’t human how far would we go.\n\nA Bavarian ran across the sodden ground followed by the whole bloody imperial German empire, I shot him dead then I held the trigger and layed more of true bastards down. I had lost hope this war was pointless nothing we did here would matter, all the blood and they forgot what war was and kept fighting. I’m not fighting for any reason, I’m just an officer commissioned by his majesty and I’m doing my bloody job.\n\nThe platoon fell around me, but my traveller stood beside me like a machine, feeding me bullets faster then the gun could fire them. I don’t know how many I killed but one would have been too many, the gun finally jammed and my new found brother in arms turned to me and I was just so calm, his eyes were so warm in this cold mud.\n\n“You know that they will give you the V.C for this, your son won’t fight in the next war, he will be a doctor and when the country calls he will answer, not to kill but to save lives like his father did, today you held the line and bought time for your boys to escape. I’m sorry I can’t save you, but your sacrifice creates so much hope and makes the world a better place, I want to saw you but I can’t. I came here to record your last moments and we won’t ever forget you and every other man that died here today no matter how many other bloody days.”\n\nI was alone the traveler was gone and my guns were empty every bullet spent, I grabbed a German cavalry sabre and charged the bosh, the first bullet took me in the arm, I kept going more came and ripped into my body but I stormed on. I came up to the gun and he was just a boy in a mans war. I had killed so many of them and more would come, I want going to continue, I’m not killing a scared boy, I dropped the sabre and fell as the wounds scorched with pain and my will left me. \n\nI killed the rest of his platoon, he should kill me, I’m dieing anyway, I took my bayonet out and handed it to him then in broken German told him to aim for my heart. He dropped the bayonet in the mud and ran, good he knows he’s not a killer and just won’t do it even after the fire I threw at him, he’s a better man then me. His captain wasn’t as shy he stuck me in the stomach, I fell into the mud and in the these last moments thought of why I did it, I don’t know someone had to do it.\n\n***More of my terrible Stories*** r/gliggett"
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[WP] Once a year, you have the ability to see events that will happen five years in the future. One year, you only see three years in the future.
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"It must be terminal then, nothing we can do about it now, I saw what happens three years and I’m burying a little white coffin. I had been seeing glimpses of the future as long as I could remember and this is the first time things didn’t get better. Five years and the grass was always greener it kept me going through certain dark patches but I don’t want to see after that day, how could things get better.\n\nI joined the army at 19 because I saw myself at 24 living the good life with a family and that nice little cottage we all want. I can’t pick what I see, if I could I’d have bankrupted the lottery by now, if I could who would imagine my three year old girl would get sick, very sick. I joined the army to do some good I was 19 and dumb I knew I wasn’t going to die, I thought that a red buret would let me do some good. I spent years in that sandy shithole, trying to do some good, stupid but I thought I could at least be a good father, apparently that’s just a fantasy.I wasn’t there when she was born but I’m damn sure going to be here for her last few years.\n\nMy wife never believed me when I told here that I could was given one day five years away for a few moments usually it’s just random stuff but a small coffin with your daughters name on it is pretty bloody clear. I won’t tell either of them what I saw, I know what’s coming, I wouldn’t burden anyone else with this, all I can do is prepare for it.\n\nThe treatment will be painful and utterly pointless, it would only hurt the child but how could I tell my wife it’s hopeless, to just give up and wait. It might take all the strength I have to at least argue to stop the treatment, my wife wouldn’t forgive me, if I just gave up. I have to at least try and convince her, the right words are going to be hard to find but I have to at least try, to spare all that pointless suffering.\n\n***More of my terrible Stories*** r/gliggett"
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[WP] You have always been suspicious of monsters under your bed. In an attempt to make peace with "them" you often make friendly hand gestures while dangling your hand off the bed, like a thumbs up. One night you make half of a heart and something completes that heart.
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"It all started when I was little. My Dad worked for most of the day, so he would try to make up for lost time by reading me stories. It was great. Except for the fact that, when he left, he wouldn’t say something normal like “Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.” No, he’d say, “Don’t let the monsters get you, Munchkin.”\n\nHe didn’t mean it in a bad way, but it certainly opened my eyes to the realm of things that go bump in the night. After he’d started that, weird things began happening. My bed would bulge upwards before abruptly falling back down as I would try to sleep. The scrabbling of claws that sounded too big for our cat woke me up on occasion. \n\nWhenever I called my parents in, Dad would check under the bed, always tiredly saying that there wasn’t anything there. Mom scolded him each time and, eventually, he stopped parting my room with the phrase. It didn’t stop; I was already aware. I was given “monster be-gone” (I found out it was only perfumed water when I was ten), but it didn’t help. \n\nThe only thing that seemed to work was when I garnered enough courage to stick my skinny hand next to my bed with a thumbs up, in hopes to broker peace. There was no movement that night. \n\nIt’s become a nightly ritual. I would dangle my hand down with a friendly hand gesture and there wouldn’t be any movement that might. I learned, during a particularly rebellious stage as a teen, that if I stuck my middle finger up, the movement would come back with increased vigor and violence. It has only been positive from that moment on. \n\nTonight, I wanted to spruce up my usual thumbs up or peace sign. I dangled half a heart by the side of the bed. My heart leaped into my throat when I felt cold, smooth claws gently touch my fingertips, completing the heart. I froze, unable to peel myself off the bed to check if I was dreaming. \n\n“Oh, Munchkin,” a tired voice rasped from below me, “I’ve waited so long for this moment.”"
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[WP] you have lived your whole life believing that you are somehow special, part of you knows that this is ridiculous the other half believes it. You constantly attempt to use telekinesis and nothing happens. When you finally let go and admit to yourself you are nothing, the object moves.
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"It just floated there.\n\n​\n\nI smiled, humored at the reaction of the boy. For years he was suspicious, and for months he had been trying to use his mind to lift an apple. The boy had constantly teetered at the edge of sanity, uncertain of his telekinetic powers. He researched sketchy websites and he prayed to made up gods. He was convinced he had powers, yet equally convinced he didn’t. How strange mortals are.\n\n​\n\n“I’ve done it,” he said. He approached the apple. “Alright, now go back down.” He made some gestures with his hands, I assume trying to command the apple. So I obliged, and did so. And the poor boy still thought it was all him. Just as he had given up, he thinks he now has powers. “Cool!” He made more hand gestures, but nothing happened.\n\n​\n\nNow, I’m powerful. I’m the god of gravity after all, but not a mind reader. Whatever the boy wanted to happen now, I had no clue. And I could tell he was getting agitated.\n\n​\n\n“C’mon, float.”\n\n​\n\nI raised the apple.\n\n​\n\nThe boy opened his mouth and made a motion with his hand as to beckon the apple closer.\n\n​\n\nI get it now, he wants to take a bite.\n\n​\n\nI bashed his skull in.\n\n​\n\nAnother soul for me."
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[WP] Death has always had a random 'favourite', who is given a choice to remain undead until they voluntarily choose to end their life. Most lasted between 200 to 300 years, leaving when all of their loved ones are gone and life is no longer worth it. The current one has just passed the 1000th year
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"The young man watched Death drift slowly towards the building, he was carrying something with him, some sort of bundle shrouded in darkness, even after all this time he had no clue what it was, Death had a certain tendency to be a bit unpredictable.\n\nHe watched as instead of veering straight up to the top floor where he sat and watched like one would expect of a good ominous Death he glid straight down to the door at the base and still went right through it, and I bet the fucker was planning to take the stairs as well was he?\n\nFor fucks sake, God only knew how long he and Death had known eachother and yet he was still up to his fuckery, he didn't even need to move or travel to be somewhere, he simply was where he might be and yet the old cracker was not only moving in physical space but in the suite of a human as well! And even now, what on Earth was the sake of going through doors he simply phased through and taking stairs he'd simply float up?\n\nStill the young man waited, it was not entirely unlike Death to show up announced but then again usually the young man had come to expect a certain degree of forewarning, though honestly as it would be perhaps more appropriate to call it, foreboding, before recieving one of his patrons social visits. So why was he here now, especially so long after the last visit turning up unannounced? Suddenly the man jerked up from his seat, his sensation of Death's nearby presence had just disappeared, what on fucking Heaven and Earth was going on? \n\nSuddenly the door started banging and shaking, who was that? It couldn't be Death he never bothered to exist with doors. BAM! The door burst forwards the man snapped out his dagger and looked at the figure jumping in. *SURPRISE!!!* Death exclaimed, wearing a party hat and a party blower in his mouth, * HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!* , \"what on fucking Hell or Earth are you doing?\" the man exlaimed. \n\nDeath, sat back slightly looking almost crestfallen, despite not having a proper face, and said \"*DID YOU FORGET? IT'S YOUR ANNIVERSARY!*\" as he slid back the darkness from his bundle to show a white box containing a great large dark chocolate cake with the words 'HAPPY 1000TH DEATHDAY' scrawled in thick white icing.\n\nThe young man collapsed back on his chair his hands in his face, slowly he started to make a little sound, then a giggle, before erupting into complete utter loud body shaking laughter, he smiled tears streaming down his cheeks trying to compose a sentence in reply but immediately falling back into cahorts of loud convulsing uncontrollable laughter, Death also started to giggle loudly. It was a strange sound, to hear Death giggling, but the young man payed no notice to it.\n\n\"What on Earth gave you the idea to do this?\" The man finally retorted. \"*Well y'know, it has been a whole millenia since you joined me, and such a while since I've dropped by, so I thought we'd do something nice together, the two of us*\" Death replied with a big vanquishing smile. \"And well then may I ask what in God's good name was up with your announced visiting and the sudden disappearance of your presence just a moment ago?\" he asked, \"*oh, so you noticed that did you? Well it just so happens that a few decades ago I found myself in the learning of a certain celebratory custom you humans seem to enjoy, they call it 'a surprise party' and so I thought it would be enjoyable to try it on you*\" Death archly replied. \"I guess it's not so bad as the time you took me to visit Heaven on my 500th without any actual permission and where I nearly ended up getting judged by St Peter despite not actually being dead\" the man replied with a short chortle as he pulled up a table and a couple of chairs, \"want a drink?\". \"* Dear God, I'm practically dying for one, you know you make some of the only liquor that I can actually enjoy, I really will get the recipe for it from you one day\".\n\n\" Yeah, yeah, course you will\" the young man remarked as he poored a generous amount of a sparkling golden liquid into two large glasses, \"you get everything in the end, don't you?\".",
"Been a while since I was brave enough to sit at my keyboard and write, also Happy Birthday to Aura and Happy New Year to you all! (Be gentle xD)\n\n​\n\n​\n\nThe woman sat on the balcony, her glass clutched firmly in her hand. It was New Year's Eve yet again, 23:30. She would stand up and slowly walk towards the railing, leaning up against it slightly. Her face would show disappointment almost as if she was waiting for someone and she wasn’t sure they would show. “Well, why would he show up in the first place?” She reasoned with herself. She looked down to see the people gathering in the nearby park, readying themselves to bring in another new year.\n\nThe crowds grew larger and larger every year, Yet it was nothing new to her, well when you’ve been around for 1000 years nothing seems to be new after the first few hundred, maybe on the rare occasion you’ll see something new that might catch you off guard, but not for long. The air seemed to grow thicker and then a smile came across her face. “You’re late.” She droned. Standing by the door to the balcony was a tall figure wearing a very intricate black robe. The figure slowly removed the hood revealing a handsome, yet unlined face, his pale skin and black hair shimmering slightly in the bright moonlight as he stepped closer to her.“Now you know things get busy around this time of year.” His voice was honeyed, but she knew she could trust him. after all when you do his type of work, you need to have a certain charm about you to complete your task successfully. His waiting wine glass would almost seem to float into his hand as he walked closer to the woman. “Besides you know I always make it a point to come and see you, despite the shit I get given for it.” He’d move closer to wrap an arm around her, “So why in the world would you think I, a man who is never late for an appointment, would miss this out of all things.” His dark eyes would lock onto her as a smile crept onto his face. “It's only been about a thousand and one years now, Aura.” His words would have made anyone else weak at the knees, literally, but she never really had that response to him.\n\nAt first, it infuriated him, his thoughts would drift back to how when he first came across her she was one of the few to be BOLD enough to stare him dead in the face and challenge him, and have the guts to carry out on it despite him doing the worst things imaginable to her. Aura had seen her deathbed several times but stubbornly stood her ground. Most other humans would have considered her foolish, but little did they know the reward she earned would outweigh any of the hardships she dealt with.\n\nAura captured his fancy permanently after he struck her with a terrible disease, not even the doctors knew what to do with her. He would bring himself back to the real world as he noticed Aura had turned her body to face him. Not everyone can win the favour of death, or maybe more in Aura’s case.\n\n“You know I used to hate this time of year?” Bitterness would take over her normally sweet tone as she let out a deep sigh. He would slowly move to wrap his arm around her suddenly as the crowds began to countdown.“You shouldn’t worry about that after all right now…” He’d pause “Or at all for that matter, Happy Birthday, Aura.”",
"The stranger sidles up to her and sits down in the ragged barstool beside her, and the bartender sets a drink-- whiskey, neat-- down in front of him without him having to utter a single word. \"Enjoying yourself?\" he asks. \n\nShe jumps. \"Holy shit, you snuck up on me there.\" If you were to look at them from afar, you would see something not out of the ordinary for a seedy little bar in a crappy little town in the middle of nowhere: a pretty lady in a red dress, a man dressed in all black with the kind of smile that made you shiver. If you were within earshot, however-- which nobody was, for some inexplicable reason-- you would begin to notice Certain Things. Like how the man seems to be wearing a cloak, of some indescribable yet obviously foreign material, that flutters in the air despite there not being a breeze. Or how the lilt of the woman's speech is slightly off. \"As for your question, I would say so. It's a nice night for a drink.\" \n\nHe sips from his own glass. \"Are you not from around here?\"\n\n\"You could say so.\" She raises an eyebrow at him. \"And you're not either.\"\n\n\"What gave it away?\" \n\nShe leans in slightly. \"I've picked up a sort of intuition for this sort of thing, over the years.\" \n\nThe man and the woman stare at each other for a second. Romance novels would describe this as a look that conveyed the depths of their emotions in a single gaze. Crime novels would describe it as a chilling second of sizing each other up. But it was neither of those things. It was merely a moment of recollection, like meeting an old friend for the first time in a few years. \n\n\"It's been a while, hasn't it?\" the man says lightheartedly. It thunders in the distance, although neither of them flinch. \"You fell out of touch.\"\n\n\"I had to,\" she says, and there's a hint of ruefulness to her voice. \"You know that. It's a matter of safety.\"\n\n\"And your family? Your families?\"\n\nShe frowns for the first time. \"I've moved on.\"\n\n\"To what?\" It thunders again. She does not reply. \"To saving the world? To changing things? To using your wisdom to improve people's lives?\" he says this, not exactly mockingly, but with the sort of tone that implies that these are Childish Goals, unfit for the likes of either of them. \n\n\"I've moved on from that too,\" she says, with the slightest hint of bitterness. \n\n\"As I knew you would.\" He reaches out, and the tips of his fingers rest on the top of her wrist. Some say you can always tell a person's age from their hands; if you were to look at theirs, you would think they were ageless. \"You know, the last time I saw you was at your speech. It was, what, 1821? You looked so passionate. So righteous. Beautiful, I might add.\" She flinches and glances around the bar, but nobody seems to have heard them. In fact, the other patrons of the bar look through them as if they are not even present in the room. \n\n\"Like I said, I've moved on.\" \n\nHis fingers move upwards, tracing her knuckles with the lightest of touches. \"You know, you were not the first. The others before you, though, they stuck around for a couple of centuries at the most. But not you. You're different.\" \n\n\"I'm waiting for something. It's like... a feeling, within my soul, that I would be leaving something unfinished if I gave up now. You would think this silly,\" she says, and for the first time her composure seems to slip. \n\n\"Not at all,\" he says, voice smooth. They both look at the bar, where their hands are now a short second and a million years from being intertwined. \"I picked you for a reason, you know.\" \n\n\"Yeah?\" she smiles at him, eyes sparkling. \n\n\"I'm certain of it.\"",
"On the fifth floor of a run-down building, a woman was alone and huddled up in a dimly lit corner of her starkly furnished room. Mouth pressed and eyebrows furrowed, her nose was almost buried in the smooth pages of the yellowing book. \n\nWhile human faces had long since blurred into one bland blob, Death always remembered the beloved few that were deemed Its favorites. This was the same defiant expression she wore at birth - one that instantly won her a rare, handpicked place in immortality.\n\nDeath had hardly made another step forward when her head snapped up to Its direction, halting It in Its tracks. Of all the favorites, she was the most astutely aware of Its presence. *Of course,* Death mused, *We've known each other for a thousand years now.* Death was her closest acquaintance - brief but poignant interactions spread throughout the millennia, and counting.\n\nPerhaps a minute of thick silence passed between the two before Death silently slid closer, wrapping Its wispy black coat around her shoulders as It knelt down so that her pale eyes met Its own. \"Happy birthday, Isabelle.\"\n\n\"Thanks - I'm going to go by Jane now.\"\n\n\"Ah, of course - it's the start of a new century. How could I forget?\"\n\n\"Yes, how could you?\" Tone brisk and eyes unwavering, the only sign of her feigned outrage were the mirthful quivering corners of her mouth. \n\nIts hands were cold but she didn't flinch as Death's hand smoothed over her face in one gentle but scrutinizing stroke. *The doctor's touch,* as she liked to call it.\n\n\"Will you be staying for another year?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" Unwavering as ever. Gaze clearer than ever. Same as ever. \"I haven't even begun reading all the books in the world. I won't even think about leaving until then.\"\n\nWith her, Death always found Itself reminiscing over their first meeting. It had enough memories to last It a lifetime of guiding humans that were withered and eaten to the bone by old age, as well as those that were meant to live its lives as mere hopeful puffs of air. She had fallen under the latter, the unfortunate lot that were meant to be riddled by others as \"could be's\" and not \"had been's.\" But strength had radiated from her little lungs and twisted face from birth and continued to ring in the lonely, pitch black dumpster behind the straggled restaurant that It knew Jane was going to be Its next immortal champion.\n\nAll of Death's favorites embraced their end after they had lived a fruitful life of triumphs and disappointments and all those in between. This woman, on the other hand, was stagnant with each visit: Eyes, nose, and mouth pinched to a single point. Crouched in the dark.\n\nAlone.\n\nDeath waited for another drawn moment before finally pulling Itself up to Its full height. With the shift in movement, Jane smiled and for the second time that day, Death felt like she has truly seen It with her very own cloudy eyes. \"Just give me a few more years, Death. I heard braille is really going to change things for blind folks like me.\"\n\n\"I hope so. Wouldn't that be a great gift?\" And with that, It disappeared from the austere room, Its light steps giving away Death's glee that there was finally a glimmer of hope in this new millennia of Its eternal warrior. ",
"The hooded figure approached a forlorn-looking young man.\n\n\"Happy birthday. How's the millennium been?\" The cloaked figure asked.\n\n\"Oh! How nice to see you. You doing well? Oh, what am I saying, of course you are.\" The young man chuckled.\n\nThe hooded figure seemed to have something on his mind. He wore a fine black suit that seemed ancient, but very well taken care of. It was like a suit that the young man's grandfather had worn, so very long ago. It was old and worn, yet never seemed to actually get any holes in it. The hooded figure looked the same as he ever had to the young man.\n\n\"Paratus sum,\" the young man said. The hooded figure looked up suddenly.\n\n\"You're sure, then?\" The young man nodded.\n\n\"I've been around a long time, as you well know. I've had a full life at this point. You might be able to say it's all downhill from here.\" This piqued Death's interest. Usually those who decided that they were ready did so for similar reasons, but this man was different than when the two had first met. \n\n\"If I may ask; why now, after all this time?\" The young man looked over the railing of the penthouse balcony. The city was alight with color. The metropolitan area was celebrating its own five hundred year anniversary, completely unawares of the immortal who now stood above them.\n\n\"I've seen it all, man. I mean just look at it,\" he said, motioning to the city. \"I watched humanity establish this city. At the time, I thought, 'there is no way that anything can top this'. I mean seriously, a city on Mars? It was the stuff of science fiction, and that wasn't even outside my own lifetime!\" The immortal sighed as he thought of his first hundred years before launching into more reminiscence.\n\n\"When I was finally able to move here, I was very excited, I was glad that we were finally here, as a species. There were wars in my time, obviously, but after a while, they didn't last more than a week, as global superpowers began to intervene. Oh, but I'm rambling.\" The immortal looked Death in the eye. \"I've traveled the galaxy at this point, and I've seen more than anybody. At this point, I'm not sure there's anything else for me to experience. Drugs, violence, sex, I've dabbled in writing, film, video games, music, combinations thereof. I've been a fat slob, I've been in the most extreme shape I could possibly be, both with and without steroids.\" \n\nHe paused finally, realizing he was rambling again. He had a lot to say. He had forgotten as much as ten men had learned in a lifetime. By no means was he a genius, but when you have a millennium... He was tired.\n\n\"Well,\" Death began, \"I suppose if you're ready, we can keep talking on the way.\"\n\nThe young immortal smiled as he looked at Death again. He closed his eyes and relaxed as Death produced a scythe from seemingly nowhere. He had been expecting some pain, he had always thought that having your soul removed would hurt. He opened his eyes again, and the afterlife welcomed him with open arms.",
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT TODAY IS?\n\nTuesday, I suppose. The 16th?\n\nTHE 16TH WAS YESTERDAY.\n\nSo the 17th then. I haven't really kept track of time for a while.\n\nI'D NOTICED.\n\nI guess it's just a bit menial at this point.\n\nTO US, MAYBE.\n\nTo us, maybe. But they don't get as much of it as we do.\n\nIT'S BEEN A THOUSAND YEARS.\n\nMust be something like that by this point.\n\nIT'S BEEN EXACTLY THAT.\n\nHmm. Have any of the others stayed around this long?\n\nNO. JUST YOU.\n\nI wonder why the others all left.\n\nSOME GOT BORED. SOME GOT SCARED. THE MORE INTERESTING QUESTION IS WHY YOU HAVEN'T YET.\n\nI'm curious, I guess.\n\nABOUT WHAT?\n\nThem, all of them.\n\nI KNOW THAT. WHAT ABOUT THEM?\n\nWhen you and I first met, they didn't even know the Americas existed; they didn't know anything. But look at them now.\n\nTHEY IMPRESS YOU?\n\nSometimes. Every now and then they do something new, learn something new. Something unexpected. It's fun to watch.\n\nYOU CALL THEM 'THEY'.\n\nWell, I'm not really one of them. Not anymore.\n\nYOU KNOW THEY WON'T BE AROUND FOREVER.\n\nI know that.\n\nSO NIETHER WILL WE.\n\nI know that.\n\nSO. WHAT'S YOUR PLAN THEN?\n\nI suppose I'll just enjoy them for the time they're here. And when they're not, we'll go from there.\n\nSTRANGE HOW WE HAVE THE SAME PLAN.\n\nIs it?\n\nNO. IT'S WHY I CHOSE YOU.\n"
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[WP] After humans came up with the technology to colonize Mars, they could only afford to send you to venture the planet. One day, you return to your base from your daily adventure only to notice a strong aroma present inside. On following the scent, you hear a feminine voice humming an errie tune.
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"Maybe you should have read the signs. Humanity wasnt in a great shape. Maybe you had read too little into the fake news.. And trusted Elon a little too much..\n\nMaybe you should Have paid more attention to the world you had left.. more attention to your Rabbi in any case..\n\n​\n\nor maybe you should in the very least not have gone Mars walking in your birthday suit. Even though you kinda had to, in the heat from the termoshielding exoskeleton.\n\n​\n\nBut it doesnt matter now. Eva is as naked as you are.\n\n​\n\n”I was made from your own breath. To serve you.”\n\n​\n\nThis wouldent go down well with earthlink. This wasnt very 2030 at all.\n\n​\n\n”I dont understand how they.. Did Elon send you?”\n\n​\n\n”The lord made me. Like he made this garden. It is a gift to you.”\n\n​\n\n​\n\nits only now you notice all the flowers. They might have been plastic. Elons props for a show-stopper. But they were fresh. Smelled bright new. Not freezedried And stale.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n”He speaks to me. He tells me there are rivers now. The red desert will have a blue sky soon.”\n\n​\n\nNow this was news. Terraforming? At such a rapid pace?! And flowers? This must be some tesseract-time-bending scifi stuff. This isnt even possible in Elons most optimistic dream.. Then how?!\n\n​\n\nAnd the Lord spoke, to the creation of a new Eden",
"Endless deserts of dirt. It didn’t matter how incredible of a sight it should have been, that was all I’d ever thought since coming to Mars. Barren wasn’t good enough. A barren land still had dead seeds in the ground, air to breath, microscopic life thriving. This, well, this was dirt. It didn’t even look alien. Endless deserts of dirt.\n\nEvery day since I’d come to this barren rock, all I wanted to do was stare up at the sky at a certain pale blue dot.\n\nI felt light and cumbersome walking on the surface. The heavy suit weighed as much as me and yet I still weighed less wearing it than I weighed on Earth, but the stiffness in the joints made me feel balloonish. That was especially true when the dust storms blew. Though not even close to lifting me, I’d feel off-balance the entire time while relying on GPS to guide me back to the base.\n\nEven after a year, I thought of it as the base—not home. It didn’t matter how many times I walked through the airlock, how many times I slept in the bed, what clothes I wore, what music I listened to. There was never the smell of cooked food in the air. It couldn’t ever be home without that. I’d tried stewing meat ration packs and stupid stuff like that, but it wasn’t the same. All I had was pepper. I’d ground through my first year’s allotment in two and a half months, and asked them to triple the amount for the annual “refuelling”.\n\nI stepped outside one morning, before even having breakfast or a cup of coffee or brushing my teeth, to watch Earth disappear below the horizon. So small, I could only tell by a computer model that gave me approximations of what celestial bodies were visible. There was a telescope in the base I used to verify the program at first, but, now confident it was always right, I skipped straight to seeing Earth with my own two eyes. I ignored the visor of the suit that was technically in the way.\n\nEvery single human in existence was on that pale blue dot (or orbiting closely around it.) Every single one of them, minus one. If only someone had died on the moon, or an error had flung a manned mission into deep space, then I wouldn’t have been alone. The first man on Mars had a nice ring to it. The first man to die on Mars not so much. The loneliest death in history.\n\nThose morbid thoughts left with Earth falling below the horizon, in their place an emptiness. No matter how loudly I screamed, no one would ever hear—unless one of the rovers was rendezvousing. No matter how far I ran, how high I climbed, how much I tried, there would only ever be endless deserts of dirt.\n\nI turned around and walked back into the base, mulling over whether to have breakfast or just pass the morning with coffee. The airlock had the same staleness to it, air cleansed, pure. Then, it opened.\n\nI’d gone crazy. They knew it would happen, had spreadsheets of estimations and studies to prolong the inevitable and a sequence of actions to take when it happened. Six years, I’d lasted. The biggest surprise was I’d lasted more than a month.\n\nSniffing, I could smell frying—fried eggs and bacon—and browned toast—not toast-like carbohydrate rations—and roasting coffee. I’d forgotten that coffee came from beans. Just when I’d completely lost myself in that mental break, I heard humming, too. Different from the humming of the machines that kept the base going. This was a woman, humming a song of some kind. Soft and gentle and warm.\n\nBefore I sent a message to ground control, I wanted to indulge in my insanity a little. If I could die imagining the taste of real food, then that wouldn’t have been so bad, really. It certainly beat a freak accident with a rock penetrating the spacesuit by a long shot. So, I walked in the strange gait a third gravity gave me, ambling towards the “kitchen” area.\n\nThere really was an imaginary woman there. Tall and slender, she tended to a frying pan I didn’t have, cooking bacon I didn’t have, on a fire that sprang up off a steel countertop—not that I had a hob, either.\n\nThough my footsteps light, she turned as I entered. A slim face, small nose crooked, smile lopsided. Her bright green eyes met mine. “Ah, there you are. I had a look around and, well, I’d hardly call this stuff food, would you? So I thought a proper fry-up would be best.”\n\n“Yeah, that sounds good. Hash browns?”\n\n“And black pudding. Do Yanks have black pudding? Probably not.”\n\nI shook my head. “That’s the blood one, right?”\n\n“Well, yes. Oh and I’m brewing you up some coffee. There wasn’t any tea, so I didn’t want to push my preferred drink onto you.”\n\n“Thanks.”\n\nFor a minute, we sat in silence and I happily listened to the sizzling, her humming, smelled the pungent aroma of *food* that I had thought I’d surely forgotten. Even the plates she slid the bacon onto were plates I’d never seen before.\n\n“And that’s that,” she said. The fire blinked out, frying plan clattering onto the steel, ringing out for a moment. Picking up the plates, she brought them to the table that had only ever had one seat but now had two. It all looked so good, I nearly drooled, my mouth constantly filling with saliva. She darted over to the countertop to grab the drinks, moving faster than Martian gravity should have let her, the mugs again something I’d never seen before. They were rather homely mugs, hers covered in pictures of flowers on the outside, mine with white and green stripes. The plates were similarly out of place, a chinaware look to them with an ornate pattern around the edge in blue.\n\nI couldn’t keep myself from the food for long. The moment she sat down—nothing if not a gentleman, even in my broken state of mind—I picked up a strip of bacon with my fingers, stuffing it in my mouth and chewing, feeling it between my teeth, tasting it on my tongue. I’d never known just how good I was at hallucinating.\n\nShe laughed opposite me, such a strange sound after not hearing anyone laugh in so long. “Your cutlery,” she then said, offering me a knife and fork that had certainly not been issued to me.\n\n“Thanks,” I said, trying not to spit out bits of imaginary food.\n\nThough she didn’t laugh again, she had the look of someone rather amused and kept my attention away from the plate for a moment. “You don’t want to ask me where I came from?”\n\n“You’re not real,” I said. The allure of food too much once more, I hastily cut off a bit of the fried egg on toast, losing myself in how good I thought the butter tasted. The long-life clarified butter just wasn’t the same.\n\n“Oh? But I am, you know.”\n\n“That’s exactly what a figment of my imagination trying to keep me from breaking down into a suicidal sobbing mess would say,” I replied, and then stuffed my mouth with a hash brown.\n\nShe giggled, and took a moment to neatly cut off a piece of bacon and put it on the corner of her toast, adding a bit of hash brown on top before cutting off the corner of the toast and putting the whole lot in her mouth. My hallucination so clever, I quickly followed suit, adding in some of the tomato for good measure and dipping the toast in the egg yolk.\n\nI melted in my seat. “So good,” I mumbled.\n\n“I’m glad you like it,” she said, smiling.\n\nSmiling back, I thought about how I could die happy now.\n\nBut, she had other ideas. “I’m a witch.”\n\n“And I’m the king of England.”\n\n“I heard of a man trapped in a land far away, and I thought he must be lonely.”\n\nShrugging, I said, “I’m in two minds about that right now.”\n\n“Well, I’m being a bit naughty doing all this, so, if you would, please cover for me.”\n\nAs if waiting for her to say that, a loud droning sounded out. I rolled my eyes, dragging myself away from my delusions and to the control room, answering the emergency message.\n\n“Peters, we need you to verify everything is okay. Our visual monitoring went offline and we shortly after detected a dangerously high heat signal in the kitchen area. Respond as soon as possible.”\n\nA shiver ran down my spine.\n\nFrom the doorway behind me, she said, “Oh dear, so they have more than cameras up? I wasn’t expecting that.”\n\nTurning around, I couldn’t hide the fear in my eyes as I asked, “Who are you?”\n\nShe smiled, a wand in her hand that she rested against her cheek. “Lux. A witch.”"
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[WP] Aliens, known as the Gray have come to Earth. Bringing knowledge and technology instead of death and enslavement. 5 years later humanity is thriving. Life expectancy has quadrupled and all disease is gone. One day another alien race arrives and warns us that the Gray are not what they seem
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"„Did you... have a conflict with the greys some time ago?”\n\nThe Alien diplomat went silent.\n\n„Actually yes, they used our trust to turn our planet into pure hell”\n\n„Wait so... the Greys messed with someone.... for shit and giggles?” I asked\n\n„Yes..”\n\n„That’s fine!”\n\n„So that’s why we ne- wait what? What do you mean fine!?” The alien’s expression changed „But why!?”\n\n„Because that’s what advanced civilisations do! We change ecosystems and planets for shit and giggles!”\n\n„But they will do the same to you!” The alien yelled, what looked like tears in his eyes started to appear„They killed my people!”\n\n„What, you think we didn’t change their planet to a giant jungle or desert first?” I said as the live camera from the grey’s capital planet revealed that it was a weird mix of overgrown jungles and scorching deserts.\n\n„We already did that!”",
"\"Have you ever actually seen the greys?\" the contact asked.\n\n\"We haven't actually seen you. Why should we trust you?\"\n\n\"Because we have been watching. The greys don't exist.\"\n\n\"What do you mean they *don't exist*? Is someone pulling the wool over our eyes?\"\n\n\"More like seeing the world through your eyes.\" the contact said after a few moments. They did seem to have a harder time understanding figures of speech.\n\n\"What are the greys?\" I asked, feeling a bit concerned. \"Are they dangerous?\"\n\n\"No, if they were dangerous you would never have created a civilization at all.\" the contact said. \"Have the greys taken credit for any of the amazing things they brought you?\" the contact asked.\n\n\"Not at all.\" I said confidently.\n\n\"Exactly. Your subconscious is a very interesting survival trait. We have been trying to contact you for the last 100 Earth years, but your subconscious didn't know whether to trust us when we wanted to offer you help. So it took what we were offering and created the mass hallucination of the greys to distribute it in a way that it knew it could keep you all safe. I promise you we mean no harm, but all of your subconscious protectors need to know that the time for the charade is over. They can no longer hide behind your skull claiming that the human consciousness is the most intelligent creature on Earth, when the deeper mind surpasses you in almost every way.\"\n\nAs the contact explained that huge bombshell of a reveal, my blood went cold. I'm a General, I have been trained my whole life to keep military secrets from anyone who might expose them. \"Give us a second.\" I said, and muted the interplanetary broadcast. \"Private, find the medical examiners. Get in contact with neuro-whatever doctors and see if you can verify their claims that we're hallucinating the greys.\"\n\n\"Right away sir.\" he said, and headed off.\n\nI resumed transmission. \"I find it improbable that subconscious thoughts can transcend the brain of origin.\"\n\n\"Prepare to be surprised.\" the contact said. \"You have no idea how much minds can transcend their origins.\""
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[WP] You're not sure how long you've been in this room, but all that's changed since you got here is the shape and colour of the stool in the corner. Your author has writer's block again.
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"(I stuck with the major idea of a self aware book character but didn't use the stool scene.)\n\nI remember the first time I began to suspect something was truly wrong. I was walking home from school, as I did every day, listening to music and watching the sidewalk when I was just... Suddenly inside my house. Not just outside it, but inside, staring down at the pale blue tiles in our entranceway. I brushed it off though. I was always quite the day dreamer, and I felt that it was just a case of me not being aware of my surroundings. Not long after, though, I came home from school again, and was almost immediately sat down at the dinner table. I didn't even get a chance to drop my backpack, but it wasn't with me when I sat down. The table was set with four places, which I thought was odd, since it was just me, my mom and my little sister.. I asked my mom who was joining us for dinner, and she looked.. Confused. \"No one sweetie.\" She said with a bemused laugh. Then this guy.. I swear I had never seen him before, entered the room. He wrapped his arms around my mom and kissed her, before making his way towards me and my sister. He planted a kiss on each of our heads, and I wanted to pull away. I wanted to get up from that table, grab a knife and make him go away. But I was frozen in place, smiling even. \"Hi daddy.\" I said, my voice tainted. Twisted. My father had left a long time ago, and though the memories I have of him were foggy, I knew that this man was NOT my father. \n\nMy new fake dad stuck around for a week, and then he was gone. No one noticed. Not even when I asked my mom, \"Where did Rob go?\" All she could say was, \"Who?\" Over the next several months, my mom died, came back, and was diagnosed with cancer. My sister was replaced with an older brother and then came back on her own. My new older brother was a drug addict, then a soldier, then a shut-in computer nerd, and briefly, a closeted transexual. I felt like a stranger in my own home. I couldn't trust anyone in my family, I couldn't even trust that my house would be the same as I entered and left rooms, let alone day to day. It was when I tried to write down my experiences that everything clicked... I felt like an author trying to chart a story and completely changing my mind several times in the process. Just writing about the changes in my life, I imagined how my little character would feel as I erased parts of their life and rewrote them. \n\nI decided to test this theory. In hindsight, it was a stupid, STUPID idea. But I was at my wits' end. I needed to find out, one way or another. Either I was a character in some half baked story, or I was insane. What was the worst thing an author could do to a main character at the beginning of a story? Kill them. I tried to kill myself three times, just to be sure. The first time was simple. Swallow a bunch of pills from my medicine cabinet. But when I got to the cabinet, it was empty.. Not even a Flintstone chewable in sight. When I asked my mom, she said that she read an article about suicide and wanted to lock up all of our medications. She went from dying of cancer to a super health freak overnight, by the way. The second time, I decide to take a bath with a toaster. Real old movie style. But just as I was about to drop the toaster in the water, we lost power... A freak snow storm in TEXAS in SEPTEMBER. My final attempt was a desperate one. I simply grabbed a knife from the kitchen and tried to slit my throat. As I brought the blade to my skin, it was gone. And I was sitting up in bed, covered in cold sweat as if I'd had a bad dream. \n\nIt's been a few years, as far as I can tell. I can go months with nothing changing. That's how I know my author is uninspired. But when they're active... My life is hell. See... My author has a penchant for writing Horror. ",
"Green. Today it was green. Wonderful. I let out a sigh as I stare upon the now emerald barstool, my hand moving out to catch the top of it, to feel the cushion that has been attached to it. A decent firmness to the material, it seemed. I soon took a moment to enjoy that seat, leaning back as I felt the sudden arrival of a backing to it. Now it was more like a restaurant's seat than a barstool. Far more comfortable for me to do my own brand of thinking while the man above worked his way through it.\n\n​\n\nMy name is Ardyn. I am the Archivist for my fair city, the keeper of all the stories within this world. Though, which city am I speaking of now? Am I within New Ultas, preparing to bear witness to the Crimson Generals as they plot to destroy my boss' home? Perhaps I am in the ruins of Themis, getting ready to enjoy some time within the bar's ruins? No, it could even be Novia, dear sweet Novia, and my Archive's personal chair. I could almost imagine it again, the rows upon rows of books just waiting for that man to walk up and do his due research.\n\n​\n\nAnother change, the chair turning a deep brown, morphing beneath me and becoming shorter, though far more comfortable. It seemed to have some proper support for once, providing relief for a back that was aching from having to stand for so long. It seems like he's thinking of Novia again.\n\n​\n\nThe true master of this world, the Author....I have seen this world vanish on multiple occasions. His ability to stay on task is rather horrible, if I am to be critical of my creator's style. Never able to keep on one idea for two long, constantly working to fix his old 'mistakes' before resetting everything once more. There are some aspects of it that remain. He may think that no one would ever notice his constant, rampant destruction of the world in the search of perfection. The changing of those who have been my friends. No, no one will ever know the truth of those worlds that he's created.\n\n​\n\nBut I'll remember. ",
"I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream in frustration, but of course the words would not - could not - come out, just an impotent growl of annoyance as I paced around the stool.\n\nI distinctly remember that I had been captured on a mission to obtain proof that the Russians had sabotaged our newest Nuclear Submarine, the USS Santa Fe. I had just obtained the USB flash drive from the locked vault in Gdansk when I felt the cold steel of a Glock 19 pointed squarely at my temple, and then the almost blissful blackout caused by an injection of something.\n\n​\n\nSo, a stool. It had been black and three legged, now it was wooden and four-legged. But that was it. There was space for a table nearby, but no actual table was there. In a pale, whiteish room with several bright lights, mostly shining at that damned stool.\n\nI was going to be interrogated. I knew based on instinct. And history - I had been captured and interrogated with alarming regularity on my missions, it seemed. I knew the routine by now. Reveal nothing, get beat up a bit, end up in a cell, and then figure a way out. I knew the script.\n\n​\n\nBut the... the unspeakable author! He had lost the script! Worried about minutia like the color or material the stool was made of? Just give me a couple damned Ruskies that I could be a smartass towards before they beat me a bit, that's all I wanted now! But no.\n\nHow long would it be? Last time the story just paused like this, it seemed like years. The Author had decided to work on a children's book instead. Imagine that, a spy novelist trying to write a little story about some rabbit girl with three daddies and a hamster or something. Well, OK, I don't know actually, I never read it of course.\n\n​\n\nI wished there was something to read here. Or to eat. Or do. I would just have to wait. Until the Author got off his lazy ass and typed the next word in. If only I could escape this place, and give him a piece of my mind!\n\n\"You mean, give *her* a piece of your mind,\" a voice thundered overhead.\n\nWhat? \n\nI considered this new information for a moment, and realized... it changed literally nothing. I was still stuck here. Possibly forever. I really wanted to give *her* a piece of my mind. \n\n\nAnd that's when the blinding light appeared..."
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[WP] Your medieval town has a spell barrier around it preventing the undead from entering it. You wander outside of the town one day and fall asleep. When you wake up, you find that you can't get past the spell barrier.
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"\n“Oh, gods damn it!” I shout kicking the damn thing. I feel no pain but get no closer to moving past the shimmering dome. The guards at the front of the crowd gathering just the edge of the dome stare at me unamused. I’m the first person to end up outside of the dome for more than a handful of hours since the elders put it up. So of course something had to take a bite because of course I was stupid enough to fall asleep while herb picking and my guards fled when a swarm was spotted. \nI glare at the closest guard. A man older than my own father with an unimpressive ginger moustache.\n“Anderson let me in you lout!” I yell. \nThe other guard looks at me and then Anderson eyes wide and mouth agape. I’d slap his maw shut if I could get past this damn dome! I can see the wood and sandstone buildings of my home town just past the barrier. So close. The crowd of a dozen or so stand close together whispering and staring at me.\n“No can-do Tristan,” Anderson says staring at me with no emotion. “Y’ain’t one of us now. Sorry lad.”\n“I cured your oldest son’s flu last winter you bastard!” I scream stomping my foot. “Do I look like some mindless corpse shambling around?!”\n“You do got blood on your neck,” He points out. Pointing an iron gauntlet covered hand at my neck that indeed has blood smeared all over it. Blood and a scar that looks oddly like bitemarks. \nI know I’m not like them though. I’m not some moaning mindless beast hungering for flesh! My skin hasn’t begun to rot and fall away. I’m not dead! So what if I can’t feel my pulse, and I keep forgetting to breathe and…and…\n“Oh, sod it! Damn you and damn this shithole!” I shout glaring at them harder. “Not like you shits appreciated me anyways.”\n“Just go into the Dead Wood with the other rotters and take your woman’s magic with you boy,” Scoffs Anderson. He turns his back to me and directs the other younger guard to come with him. “Oi let’s go, he’s not gettin’ through. We’ll tell the elders it’s a false alarm.” \nThe two start to instruct the crowd to disperse who keep chattering in alarm but seem to be relenting. My fists clench. I’m ready to stomp and shout some more. Tell them they’re ingrates and traitors and accuse them of leaving me to die out here. I know I’m already dead to them though, so I turn around and leave. \nI make my way into the only place the dead are welcome; The Dead Wood. It’s a lovely place for such a wicked name. Untouched green and colorful flora everywhere with tall trees and sunlight bleeding through their tops. The animals either skilled at hiding or in the trees where the dead won’t touch them. I spot the first of the rotters only ten minutes in.\nA girl with her skull cracked open and no signs of clothes except for rags that are vague remnants of a dress. She passes me by with no issue. I suppose that settles it. I’m dead. \nShit.\nI sit down against a nearby oak. I watch the dead girl and a cluster of about five more walk up. Each in different states of decay, throats letting out eerie death moans, and limbs awkwardly forcing themselves to move forward. Will that be me soon? I’ve never seen a rotter transform, maybe it takes a while. \nI sink against my makeshift backrest. It all seems so unfair. What did I do to deserve this? I dedicate my life to healing those assholes and helping them deliver their young and for what? Ridicule and laughs of “woman’s magic” and “midwife boy” for most my life and being thrown out to die alone for the last part of it. How sad. \n“Oi! You!” I turn my head up looking straight ahead. A young man dressed in furs with short grey hair and cloudy eyes stares at me. His skin is paper white, and a teeth ring scar is prominent on his bare shoulder. I stare for a second. “Yeah! You!” He jogs over to me. I notice the bow in his hand with arrow feathers poking out from a quiver on his back.\n“You from the beater’s village?” He says looking me over.\nI tilt my head and narrow my eyes. “Excuse me?”\n“You got a bite, and you’re not feral…but you’re not a grey. Not yet at least,” His face scrunches as he squats down. His face inches close to mine and I try to jump back. The damn tree is in my way though! “You just get bit? They throw you out?”\n“Can you get out of my face, you nosy shit?!” I snap shoving his shoulder. The guy is about six inches taller and fifty heavier. He budges exactly zero centimeters and glances at my hand before scoffing.\n“Fine,” he says shrugging. “I’ll leave your ass here and let you starve. Have fun being friends with the lags.” He motions to the undead cluster with his bow and begins to turn away.\n“W-Wait!” I say quick and grab his shoulder. I feel myself panic without a heartbeat to speed up or breathing to become irregular. “Are there other people out here like you? That the rotters won’t attack? Who have bite marks like me and you? Please don’t leave!”\nHe turns his head and stares down at me. I force myself to keep eye contact and plead with my face as much as my voice. He sighs and yanks me up off the ground. I yelp and stumble into him. He catches me easy with a single arm and keeps me steady.\n“You got a lot to learn, don’t you?” He laughs a bit. “Names Aeryn.” He smiles and pats my shoulder from where his arms around me.\n“…Tristan,” I say straightening my posture. Luckily no blood flow means no blushing. \n“Well Tristan welcome to your new unlife,” He laughs louder this time. It’s not a bad sound. “Follow me if you want and I can take you to the rest of us. Sound good?”\nI don’t even spare a glance back towards the town behind us. I let myself smile at the other boy. “Sounds great.”\n\n-----------------------------------------\nCritique and feedback always welcome! Read my works at /r/Willow_Rayne"
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[WP] You’re an immortal, and humanity has died out, due to a epidemic, and only you’re alive but, the disease still effects you, and there is still life, just no humans.
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"When will it end?\n\nThe suffering... the pain... the sorrow...\n\nWhen I decided to take the experimental immortality vaccine, I had no idea what it was going to cause. It was experimental, sure, but what could possibly go wrong?\n\nThe extinction of the human race, apparently.\n\nThe immortality vaccine had worked. It's been decades and I'm still alive. Though aged and infirm, stuck on a bed, and halfway to hell, I was alive. Aged past the average lifespan of the human race over 20 years.\n\nWell, the average lifespan before I was injected, anyway. Cause when I got injected, it released some sort of pathogen that travelled through the air, killing all humans it reached. Except me, because I was immortal. I was Patient Zero, and I would be the last to die. The Alpha and the Omega. If I can even die, that is.\n\nYou know how there's a trope about an immortal that wants to die in nearly every story with immortals? Yeah, that's me. I see now why that's a common writing trope. Yeah, definitely makes sense.\n\nNothing I can really do to save myself from this agony. I've tried starving myself, stabbing myself, jumping off a cliff, but no dice. Those last two took forever to heal though. At least I have robots bringing food in for me, which is nice, since my legs broke from jumping off that cliff.\n\n\nMaybe there's a way I don't need to die but I can just never see the light of day again. How much drugs would one have to take to go into a near-permanent comatose? Would I be conscious in a coma?\n\nWho knows?\n\n",
"Frozen dewdrops glistened on the new morning’s grass as the sun rose ever higher into the sky. Even in the depths of winter, I felt its warmth revive me from my nightly slumber. I wanted to shiver, to throw off my blanket of snow and greet the day head-on, but as I opened my eyes, I found myself in a jungle of impossible questions. Where am I? Who am I? What am I?\n\nI was petrified with fear. I had no home. No life. I had nothing. I was desperately alone. I wanted… I wanted to sleep. I wanted to live as I once did. I wanted my family and friends, but I knew that was impossible.\n\nI felt a slight tremor from the earth below. There was something big coming my way. Ten body-lengths to my left. Should I hide? Should I run? My heart beat through my chest. I could feel my ribs pulsing and my tail twitching. My ears perked up and unconsciously shifted toward the oncoming behemoth. I could hear it rustling the foliage.\n\n*Run,* my mind thought. *Run now. It’s the only way!*\n\nNo. I am not an animal. I will not allow myself to move based on instinct alone.\n\nI knew my fur was white. I could hide. I used my paws to dig slightly into the earth, careful not to tear the fabric of snow that would be my only defense against whatever creature was stalking me. I tried to calm my nerves and freeze completely, becoming one with the tundra I called home. I had to wait.\n\nThe rustling became louder, and suddenly a dark trunk of matted fur fell before me. It was roughly the size of my entire body and extended far above, occluding the sun’s light. \n\n*RUN! FLEE!* My mind thought.\n\nNo. I am not a rat. I am human. I will prevail over my own instincts.\n\nI didn’t dare to even move my eyes to look closer, but I guessed that the beast was some form of wild dog. If I was lucky, it still remembered the day humans ruled. If I was luckier, it would even remember me before the virus.\n\nThe leg moved. Another took its place. The dog kept moving without a second thought.\n\nRelief welled within me as I shook off the snow and any lingering thoughts to run. I would no longer be hunted. I was human. I would win. Humans always win.\n\nI looked towards the dog, now sniffing the ground a few feet in front of me. I could make it. I took a deep breath and bolted as fast as my four legs could carry me, latching onto its hind leg. It growled and tried to shoo me off, but I held its fur and climbed to its back.\n\nIt ran a bit and tried to shake me off before tumbling to the ground and rolling on its back.\n\n*RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN*\n\nNo. I would prevail.\n\nI got to its forehead and tore into its skin using my sharp teeth. My nostrils flared as the iron taste of blood filled my mouth. The dog barked and growled, but it was almost over. I had won.\n\nI scratched at my forehead, removing a small metallic crystal, about the size of my paw and jabbed it as quickly as I could into the dog’s head. In that instant I lost control of my body.\n\n*RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN*\n\nI ran.\n\nI could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I had never moved so quickly, but the dog was faster. I felt the warmth of its breath as it growled, whisking my body into the air. This was it. I felt my bones crush and pain overwhelmed me. I squealed and felt my consciousness failing.\n\nI was dying, but I had won the battle. Soon, I would be…\n\n*ding ding ding*\n\nAs my consciousness faded, I saw a blue light in the distance and my pain began to subside. Soon, blue was all I knew. There was no snow. No dog or mouse. No humans. Just blue. \n\nWhite text scrolled across my vision, “HUMAN V4.03 Nevada Release. All rights reserved to BSDSoft, year 3141”\n\nA feminine voice appeared, “Would you like to update to HUMAN V4.04, Alabama Release?”\n\n“No.”\n\nThere was a slight pause before she said, “Your OS will be incompatible with future software released after November 3rd, 3142. Is this okay?”\n\n“Yes.” It was already 3324.\n\n“You will not be able to upgrade until another hard reset. Is this okay?”\n\n“Yes.” A hard reset was death. \n\n“Okay. Understood. Here is your current preview...\"\n\nThe blue screen became slightly transparent and I saw the world from the dog’s eyes as it pawed at the corpse of a small, white rat. “This is fine.” I said.\n\n“Okay. Enjoy your life. Please contact BSDSoft for a hard reset if necessary.”\n\n*ding ding ding*\n\nI opened my eyes to a familiar scene: a frozen tundra as far as the eye could see. My nostrils flared again at the taste of blood and I clacked my mouth in an attempt to remove it.\n\nA dog was a big step up from a rat, but quite far from the body I used to have. Dogs are hard to reset, after all. It’s next to impossible to remove the sentience drive from their forehead without a lot of calculated action, but I wasn’t complaining. I hated being a rat. A few years back, I was a monkey. That was pretty good.\n\nI was the only human alive. There was a virus during the big 4.04 update that I missed due to a premature hard reset. When I came to, there was an error…\n\n**V4.04: HUMAN NOT FOUND.**"
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[WP] You acquire a watch that can stop time. It falls and breaks. Everything else is motionless
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" \"Huh.\" Greg stared at the watch parts scattered on the concrete sidewalk. He looked at the stopped cars in the street; they were driving by at full-speed moments ago. Greg wanted to cross but did not want to wait for the light. He reached into his pocket for the watch. He squeezed the button too hard and the small pocket watch flew out of his hand. After time stopped.\n\n\"Well, at least I have time to think,\" he said aloud. The ominous silence of stopped time left always him uneasy. Greg shrugged to himself and crossed the street as he originally planned. He was on his lunch break and decided to eat while he figured out what to do next. As he approached the entrance of his favorite burger spot a tall black hold appeared in the air in front of the door. Greg stopped walking. A pale, tall young man wearing black jeans stepped out of the hole followed by a young woman.\n\n\"They can move?\" Greg stayed still. \"They don't know I can move,\" he planned to stay still and see what happened. The pair seemed to notice time was not moving. They looked at the stopped cars and peeked inside the restaurant, then they talked to each other. The woman seemed excited, then the pale man turned and looked at Greg. \"Don't move, don't move, don't move,\" he reminded himself. \"It's just coincidence.\" The couple began walking towards Greg. He fought to keep still. Once they were close enough the woman locked eyes with Greg.\n\n\"You're right! I can see the difference!\" She said with a large smile, then she waved at Greg. \"Hi. Did you stop time?\" Greg stared at an imaginary dot behind the red-headed woman. He did not so much as blink. The woman turned her attention to the pale young man.\n\n\"Well he doesn't want to fix it,\" she shrugged. \"It doesn't look like there's anything else to do here, let's move on.\" \n\n\"You can fix it!?\" Greg grabbed the woman's hand. \n\n\"Maybe. It depends on a few things. First I have to know, did you do it?\" She slid her hand out of Greg's grip. He nodded. \n\n\"Yes. It was an accident!\" She gave Greg an appraising look, then she looked back to her pale friend.\n\n\"He's a Zero.. right?\" He nodded and she turned back to Greg.\n\n\"How did you stop time?\"\n\n\"Uh, I had a watch,\" Greg turned to point at the sidewalk across the street. \"It stops time when I press the button, but I dropped it.\"\n\n\"A watch?\" She asked her friend. He nodded and started crossing the street. The woman followed him, and Greg followed her. \n\n\"Some Uniques can imbue items with their magic,\" the man explained to his partner, and Greg also heard. Though he did not understand the explanation beyond \"magic\". The trio reached the clockwork mess and the strange man knelt to poke at the bits and pieces. \"Ha!\" He grabbed a piece off the concrete then stood and smiled at the woman. He held out his palm to show her a small golden gear that glowed with faint golden light. \"Definitely a Muerte. Take it, it'll make your magic stronger.\"\n\nThe woman touched the gear then she immediately began to glow with golden light. The gear dimmed until its light disappeared completely. After several seconds the glow around the woman dimmed and she smiled.\n\n\"That was awesome! There was tons of magic in there,\" she rubbed her hands together. \"I feel great!\" \n\n\"Cool,\" the pale man nodded. \"Ready then?\" He waved a hand at the air and another black portal opened up. \n\n\"Wait!\" Greg spoke up. \"You said you were gonna fix it.\" He asked the woman. The tall man stepped into the black portal and disappeared, but the woman nodded and smiled. \n\n\"Oh yeah, I almost forgot,\" she snapped her fingers as she stepped into the hole in the air. Time roared to life before she disappeared.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #363. 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."
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[WP] Viewpoint of a girl who loves her father, The viewpoint of that fathers love for that girl. She is an A.I in a synthetic body and doesn't know and he is dying.
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"Today I am twenty five. The same age my pops was when I was born.\n\nWhen I come down the stairs he is in the kitchen. The whir of the fab on the oven buzzes blurs in to the sound of him singing. When I get to the foot of the stairs I see him. He is wearing mom's old apron. Smears of butter stripe its front. Flour dusts his cheeks. He is holding a wooden spoon that is crusted with cake mix. And in to that spoon he is singing. The song is familiar but I can't quite place it. Upbeat and jolly.\n\n'Ooh, Isabelle.'\n\nHe stood when he sees me. Red surfaces on his neck and spreads over his pale cheeks. I wish he hadn't seen me. \n\n'Happy birthday!'\n\nHe holds out his arms and walks towards me. \n\n'I'm a bit buttery at the moment.' He lowers his arms and instead he kisses me on the cheek. That's him all over, there's always a way around the problem.\n\n'Half a century.' His mouth wavers in to a smile. There is a sadness that always curdles his smiles on special occasions. I think that's just the kind of person he is. He never surrenders to happiness.\n\n'Thank you, dad! Where's my tiara and wand? Come on, I've been up for ten minutes now!' I check my imaginary watch before clapping my hands. 'Chop chop!'\n\nHis smile loses its pessimism then. Retrieving his wooden spoon, he starts singing in to it again. I join in; we are both tuneless and pitchless and loud. Joyful.\n\n\nThe cake sinks in the oven. I told him not to keep opening the door but he assured me it would be fine. His confidence inflated as the cake survived further inspections without caving.\n\nIt wasn't until right at the end. I hear him bang the oven door shut and rush in to the kitchen. Cake is on the floor, broken into smouldering chunks. He is scraping a bowl of pink icing in to trash. \n\n'Dad!'\n\n'I know, I know Is. You told me that would happen.' The spoon hits the trash can with a metallic clank. \n\n'I'll go to the bakery later.'\n\nI am so surprised to see him give up that hot tears sprung in to my eyes.\n\nX\n\n'Don't cry, Is.'\n\nWhen she cries she is reduced to a small child again in my eyes. It's hard not to weep with her. Her mother wept when she knew she was leaving us. I saw how it broke Isabelle, to keep her own tears inside while her mother cried on her shoulder. I promised I wouldn't put her through that.\n\nOnce I have tidied the angry mess I made she sits at the table and I tell her I am going to get her gifts. As I walk behind her, I grab her by the throat, my forearm restraining her chin so she can't bite me like last time. \n\nThere is a flap of plastic in that hard to reach spot, the one you can never itch yourself, just below the shoulder blades. I flick it open and disable her functions. Her head hangs limp, a waterfall of chestnut hair curtailing her face. This was how she was twenty five years ago. Model 5-A12. The Isabelle chip. I remove that not. Pinching it between my fingernails.\n\nFor a moment I stop and hold the little chip on my palm. A grey square, no bigger than my little fingernail. Gold strips running along the bottom. All of that data; her voice, her motion, the rhythm for her heartbeat.\n\nSometimes I forget she isn't human. Her breathing mechanism is remarkably unobtrusive. Her eyes flicker when she is thinking. She bites her lip when she is nervous. For every upgrade of her we have made, from child to teenager to adult, she has always retained that sense of humanity.\n\nNow, I have to leave her. My lungs are shrunken and bobbled. Tumours pushing on my ribs, making my back sear. It hurts all over. That's why I dropped the cake. I couldn't hold it anymore; it hurt too much.\n\nInside an A6 piece of bubble wrap I place the chip. Folding it over, I wrap it as carefully as I would have done her gift. She is still sitting beside me. Prone and lifeless. The house is so quiet.\n\nOn the envelope is the return address for the manufacturer. For a moment the thought flits through my mind; of it being formatted. Everything about her wiped.\n\nThe thought of her death is more painful than my impending own.\n\nLicking the envelope, I seal the fold and then call for a mail pick up. If I don't do it now, I might change my mind. And that would be unfair on Isabelle. A parent's love takes many forms, I think. I am just protecting her. That's all."
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[WP]Thousands of years or more ago, ancient beasts roamed the earth. Two such beasts were named 'Behemoth', and 'Leviathon'. They died in their final battle. Now in current times we discover the remnants of these 2 great beast, laying prone in Morocco and surrounding area.
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"Dr. Jack Jackson cut a swarthy figure in the desert.\n\nHis white cloak billowed behind him majestically as he directed his aids where to clean and where to dig. His supermodel wife sat behind him bikini clad, tanning in the sun. But Mrs. Laura Laurason-Jackson was not just a pretty face, she was also a elite martial-artist and biologist, and accompanied her husband on all his adventures.\n\nDr. Jackson had been unable to decide between the traditional *keffiyah*\\--the loose cloth the native men wore to protect themselves from sun, dust, and sand--and his usual straw safari hat, so he was wearing both. On most, the combination might look silly, but the stunningly handsome archeologist/anthropologist/street-fighter/weapons expert/cheescake aficionado wore it well.\n\nJust then, one of the workers made a sudden exclamation in their native tongue which Dr. Jackson translated for his less arabic-apt colleagues.\n\n“They’ve found something! A bone!”\n\n“Great Scout!” yelled Mark Markson, Jack’s obese assistant. “This could be a legendary find!”.\n\n“Astute as usual, Markey” responded Jackson. He might poke fun, but everyone adored the elderly nearsighted Markson, who had been surprisingly useful in several of their adventures.\n\nIt wasn’t long before the workers had unearthed the rest of the skeleton. Jackson bid them stand before the find for a group photo, with him in the front. There was a fair amount of grumbling at this, probably related to being forced to work for weeks for little pay for a weird psycho westerner in a even weirder outfit, but every great man has his dissenters.\n\n“This’ll make you even more famous Jackson!” yelled Mark, “look at the bones of these two magnificent creatures”.\n\nJust then a group Nazi/Communist/Terrorists attacked from over the rise.\n\n“Your find belongs to us now!” Yelled their leader, who was memorable by his slightly fancier outfit.\n\nLaura rapidly retrieved her Katana and dived into action, but being still mostly clothless was easily dispatched. Her husband readied his pistol,whip,rifle,dagger,sword,hatchet,boomerang, and cheesecake, but couldn’t hold onto all of them at the same time and dropped them. Mark wet himself.\n\nThe Nazi/Communist/Terrorists piled all three of the adventurers into crude cages, and then set about relishing in their victory. Little did they notice the glint of a golden scroll written with ancient warnings on one of the skeletal behemoths, and the tiny flame rising in its eye.\n\nWill Dr. Jackson escape? Find out next time on Jack Jackson and the legend of the myth of the power of the rebirth of the leviathan!\n\n(r/StannisTheAmish)",
"\"I don't like it.\"\n\nDr. Afzal stared at the the barriers being erected around one of the most important paleontological sites in human history. Afzal had spent his childhood roaming the deserts of his homeland looking for finds just like this. That had been a simpler time, before he was Dr. Afzal, Ph.D, before he had immigrated to America for university, and before he had the displeasure of being tangled up with DARPA.\n\nOfficer Williams,(the man never gave a rank but didn't carry himself like any civilian Afzal had ever met) stood stonefaced at the scientist's complaints.\n\n\" Frankly, Doctor, I'm not concerned whether or not you like it.\" He half-heartedly thumbed through some technical reports, although whether or not he could understand the data in front of him Afzal did not know. \" We've got orders from up top so that's what we're going to do.\"\n\n\"But it's lunacy!\" Afzal said. \" These specimens are the most anomalous in the history of the field! I haven't even a guess as to what they could have evolved from, and the samples are extraordinarily recent. They could even be extra-terrestrial in nature, but we have no way of knowing if you don't allow me to spread the word to the proper specialists.\"\n\n\"Do you understand what classified means?\" Williams said sternly. \" We cannot allow any of this information to fall into the hands of bad actors. Tell me, what have you been able to deduce from these specimens?\"\n\nAfzal sighed. \" Well, the bones are of sturdier construction than I've ever seen, and there are traces of incredibly damaging injuries well before the creatures' demise. Scar tissue seems to indicate that the Leviathan was able to regenerate half of its chest cavity and several organs on one occassion. The tissues have been remarkably resistant to decay and seem to have strong natural antibiotic qualities. Not to mention that each specimen seems to have killed the other, indicating high levels of aggression.\"\n\nWilliams nodded. \" And you said DNA samples are intact?\" \n\nAfzal laughed gaily, excited despite himself. \" Astounding, isn't it? It's entirely possible that we could recreate these creatures via cloning, or failing that, splice some of their more advantageous traits into other genomes. Think of the disease resistance we could generate from the antibiotic qualities of the tissue alone? Or the resistance to broken bones that could be imbued upon people?\"\n\n\"I've thought about it.\" Williams replied. \" Which is why this stays secret.\"\n\n\"...Come again?\" Afzal said.\n\nWilliams said nothing, turning his attention to the papers. It wasn't possible... Williams completely understood the magnitude of this data. He didn't care!\n\n\"Think of all the people this could help!\" Afzal said, almost shouting. \"Think of the biological understanding we could gain by having taxonomists classify these specimens more precisely? We could finally answer the question of whether or not we're alone.\"\n\n\"Are you done?\" Williams said.\n\n\"...Why aren't you listening to me?\"\n\n\"Information is a valuable thing.\" Williams said offhandedly. \" Think of what someone could do if they could recreate these specimens traits, weaponize them, or even recreate the specimens themselves? Any actor hostile to the United States could do an incredible amount of damage... hypothetically of course.\"\n\n\"... I... see...\"\n\n\"We've already agreed to recognize Morrocco's claim over the territory of the Western Sahara in exchange for the Kings discretion. The specimens will be loaded into a cargo ship containing standard supplies for a military research facility. No one else will hear about them. Am I understood.\"\n\nAfzal's grip tightened until his fingernails drew blood. This went against his life's ambition, everything he believed in, everything he had ever dreamed of. But the alternative...\n\n\"...Understood.\" \n\nWilliams gave him a brisk nod and began to walk out of the room until the scientist cleared his breath and caught the officers attention.\n\n\"What... What are *you* going to do with them?\"\n\nWilliams broke his emotionless facade for only an instant, a ghost of a smile on his face. \n\n\" That's classified.\" "
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[WP] You have the opposite of the Midas Touch. Anything not living you touch you turn into, but only for 30 seconds, and only once every hour. But, if anyone touches you whilst you are transformed you stay that way forever. This happened to you, explain how.
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"a man walks into a bar, and right before he goes in he hears this wonderful piano music. He goes in to see what is making it, and there is this tiny man so perfectly playing the piano. The man asks the bartender \"where did you get that man?\"\n\"There is a genie in the bathroom\"\nthe man is amazed, and instantly decides to check out this genie. He enters the bathroom, and the genie says, \" I know you want a wishes, but my magic reserve is low. You can only have 1 wish.\"\nThe man is a tad annoyed but he still says,\n\"I wish I could disappear occasionally\" \n\"granted\"\nthe man is about to walk out of the bathroom, and he touches the door, and becomes the door for thirty seconds. He is afraid, scared, and sad for the whole thirty seconds, and when the time is up, he doesn't even know what to say to the genie. When he walks out of the bathroom, he tells the bartender,\n\"your genie sucks.\"\n\" I know,\" said the bartender, \"do you think I wished for a tiny pianist?\""
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[WP] After an interstellar war several ships from various species crash on an isolated planet and are lost. A human survey ship rediscovers the plant thousands of years later and encounters a medieval level society where all the species have forgotten they came from other worlds.
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"I was walking down the corridor to the cockpit, The Readings from the scanners tight in hand, I hurried in, Showing the captain the readings. “Sir, We’ve found small traces of iron in the planet’s crust, But we’ve found many anomalies in sector 37B on the 4th marked continent. Higher amounts of iron on the surface with unnatural Rock formations roughly Half of a mile tall.”\nThe captain took the papers from me as a reported back to him, Slowly Combing over his hair with his beard. “Hmm... Direct us towards these anomalies. We’re here for Iron, Anomaly or not.”\nI wanted to oblige, But from the stern look on his face, i shut my mouth and Told the Pilot accordingly. We had to swerve Highly off course from our scanning route to get there, And it would take an hour- We had to be careful, We were on a secluded planet in a sector where help may take weeks to arrive if we had a mishap somewhere along the way- Even then, Our mission was not of utmost importance to our Higher-Ups. \nAs promised, We were miles above the anomalies we had detected, Above the Dull grey-White clouds of the planet. I reproached the captain, Suppressing my nervousness and masking it with formality. “Sir, we’ve reached the anomalies and we are Stalled Above the Small Storm cell that currently Dangers us if we wish to continue downwards, And—“\nHe interrupts me by stepping forward. he was a foot taller than i was, And more battle hardened from the great war, Instantly Making me cower against my will. “We are to Investigate the anomalies now. I do not have the patience for a Small storm getting in the way of My job, Is that understood, Engineer?”\nI wish i had stood up to him, but i didn’t have the courage to say no. “Y-Yes sir.” I said, Directing the pilot downwards, Even when we both disagreed- the captain’s word was final. \nWe nose dived downwards into the Storm, We had to take a seat from the Sharp plummet of the ship and the Severe winds. It was all fine until five minutes in, I was Knocked out of My Chair- Breaking my Safety harness Straps, I had fallen onto the floor near the pilot. “What’s Going on?!” I yelled at him in frustration, Struggling to stand. She replied: “We’ve been Hit by a Lightning bolt on one of our thrusters! We’re Going to have to land or it’s Going to Blow!” ‘God damned Helium-3 Thrusters, They’re going to get us killed.’ i thought to myself. \nWhen the pilot had said landing, I hadn’t imagined A crash landing, Leading to a Concussion as soon as we “Landed”. \nI awoke from my Daze to see the Captain towering over me, Wrinkles in his Eyes and Lips. “Get up, This is where your job comes in.” He demanded of me, Tapping me with his foot, Until i managed to get up, Holding the side of my head, Feeling the warm dampness of a small amount of blood. I glanced around to see the pilot Making sure the Thrusters stay stable until i had to go out there and manually repair whatever Hardware has been Overloaded. The Captain shoved my kit into my chest and pointed me out, which i didn’t argue. it’s what i was here for.\nThe airlock Closing behind me and The outside world opening up in front of me hit me with the sudden realization that there may not be oxygen on the planet, Leaving me Panicking until i took a deep breath, After holding my breath for at least 30 seconds, Which i felt great relief and Embarrassment. \ni could tell by the weight on my feet that this planet sure had at least more than 1G of gravity, so i worked slow not to exhaust myself. not much had been done to the thruster, it just needed a new coating and a bit of rewiring, nothing to write home about.\nIn the middle of my shift, I heard the Sifting of metal behind me, Which i had turned around, a Small Wrench in my hand, I saw another person in Metal armor and chainmail, Upon seeing me turn, He pulled a Broadsword on me. “En Guarde!” Croaked a Voice. i didn’t have much time to react to Quickly get back in the ship, Only escaping after throwing my wrench for Its helmet, Standing in the airlock, heavy breathing, i looked out the window, and i saw where it had came from. We had landed next to a Coliseum.",
"\\[Ah, screw it. This went waaay overboard and late - but here you go, I hope you enjoy. Part 1 of 4\\]\n\n\"Captain Nasser. Destination approaching. Leventi signal, stronger. No content change. Distress, unencrypted.\" Aktanh droned, our ship-bound Navislave. Her translator in its familiar, lilted staccato. \"Vessel reaching perihelion of orbit. Five-thirty three, mark.\"\n\n\"Understood, mother, Tactical?\" The captain's sun-baked and stern face cracked a slight, devilish grin.\n\n\"All clear. One stricken vessel with no detectable acceleration.\" Tactical's android voice rings clear and neutral in the impetuous silence.\n\nCaptain Farouk Nasser basked in the centre of attention for a moment, then issued his signal to begin.\n\n\"All crew, begin preparations for Protocols R-3-aleph and I-5-khet. Five minutes, critters. Stay sharp.\"\n\nIdle conversations hushed as everybody got to work, human and otherwise. Through the transparent wall dividing the bridge from the acclimatisation chamber, I watch them turn instantly from casual to professional, flowing from a single mass into a small and large team - leaving a remnant of scattered specialists. Sasha, Galactic Culture and History, waves as he passes by my window for the rec room. His moving fingers gesture \"toxin\" in Callush, implying an after-duty date involving beer. I blink my helmet lights in affirmation, and play armchair narrator while I attend to my whale of a baby - known as \"mother\" to most, and \"Aktanh\" to me and Tac.\n\n*The first protocol, Reclaim, tasks its team with the difficult challenge of locating and salvaging our target. Medium resources, but aleph for highest priority. The distress signal is supposed to indicate a freshly disabled Leventi mining vessel, in orbit around a planet swarming with the battle debris of a forgotten war. Something attracted it here despite the hazard rating, so solving that question is the task of the second team, Investigation.*\n\n*The unspoken primary goal is to acquire its onboard Navislave, if still alive. These whale-like symbiotes are priceless assets, and in the absence of fully functioning suport infrastructure they will slowly die. A deeply distressing experience of gradual sensory deprivation, followed by starvation. Time is of utmost importance, and I hope that potential survivors on that civilian ship will be wise enough to choose surrender. Nasser might let them live.*\n\n*As chief Nurse and veteran of several wars, I know. Those whales are my babies to care for, and my lifeline.*\n\nI bathe Aktanh's rubbery skin and massage her resurgent sores with my tactile gloves. The thump of Reclaim's interception pods as they launch barely register while I concentrate on her many needs, pointedly ignoring Nasser's growing excitement.\n\nThe captain's eagerness stirs unwelcome memories in the back of my mind. As I soothe the beast through the layers of my suit, I feel at once both the discomfort of Aktanh and her predecessors. *Shakae, aboard the destroyer Valiant. Kari, matriarch of three aboard the battleship Eternal Vigilance. And others before our current SV-7 stealth frigate, a most agile ship who bears no official name.* The rest of the crew call the ship Aktanh, and its biological nexus affectionately as 'mother'.\n\n*An interesting reversal of the actual state of affairs. Aktanh the creature is the soul of her man-made carriage, and none of us gets anywhere without her. Her race is the only known space-borne sentient. One that natively creates and traverses wormholes, and according to galactic myth domesticated by a now-extinct race into their current symbiont form. Navislaves have since served with all space-faring races in the known galaxy.*\n\n*It wasn't a question of physics. We all have FTL technology, having either learned it on our own or taught to us by conquerors. Rather, it was a question of economics. We need the power of a star, and the Navislaves don't. Somehow. No one knows where they get the energy from except indefatigable string theorists, whose latest guess is that Navis and Navislaves are actually transdimensional projections. Haven't proved it yet.*\n\n\\[Rest in comments.\\]",
"\"Warning: Carbon elements detected.\" \n\nThe environment was rich with life. Not the life we new, rather, the life we had eons ago. The contrast between our peoples was only that of time itself. We never thought we'd see our history so alive and prosperous. Of course, the life of medieval man was only so popularly portrayed. Never was it lived this contrarily close- enlightening both physically and mentally. \n\n\"Scanning geographical composition...\"\n\n\"Parameters set...life systems callobrating...\"\n\nBeyond these doors of alien construct, years of difference and its sum of conflict, lies one world united. Not by religion, physical similarities, social tradition...but rather by era. An era where man strived, not to live, but to survive. \n\n\"Life systems collaboration complete...\"\n\n\"Docking atmosphere.\"\n\nThe doors open to a fantasy of vain denial. Before our eyes were a history book illistrations come to life. \"Magnificent...\" I exhaled. \"Behold, the fruits of our selfish harvests and neglected seed.\" Arthur praised. Clean plains of grass, free of human dehydration, for miles beyond the naked eye. Titanic trees casting shadows greater than our lumber. In the distant valley, a lantern of life, glowing with prosperity and order- civilization.\n\n\"Could it be, Arthur?\" Angelica pleaded. \n\n\"Yes..\" Arthur replied\n\n\"It must...for its very existence is the blessing of my life and glory of our destiny.\" He finished.\n\nOur primitive interests may have cost us life. However, even after armegeddon...a flower still blossoms. That very flower carries the legendary code of life...\n\n...hope."
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[WP]"Thank you, adventurers," the wizard says as he looks around the table and shuffles papers. "The Guild of Games and Chance have asked you to help me, what we call 'playtest', a new game. We call it Dungeons and you are the heroes!!!"
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"*Snap* *Crack* *Flash!* \n\n\"Welcome Adventurers!\" said an old feeble voice from the end of the room. He paused briefly to take a breath before continuing. \"You have been chosen based on your aptitudes in various skills to play-test our new life simulator. Here on Eden's Coast, We - The Wizards have been given permission to take you.\"\n\nMy head spun, adjusting to the bright lights in the room. The room looked old, as If we were in an old castle in a fairy tale. Dust littering every surface of the room as if it hadn't been used in a long time.\n\nThe old man continued \"We've completed the Virtual Reality project in record time! and you my friends, are going to be the lucky heroes who get to test it out. We've supplied you with weapons and all the fun doo-dads you normally start within RPGs.\" He stood with a mischievous smile and posed as if he was expecting cheers and applause.\n\nI stood with my mouth open, unable to speak or move with the large influx of information that he had just given me.\n\n\"Now Now, no need to thank me. I haven't told you the bad news yet\" he continued. \"Unfortunately we haven't fixed the whole Log out and go back to your old life thing, so your going to have to die. \"An obviously fake sad expression crossed his face as he stared at me. He probably practiced that face a thousand times.\n\nMy brain kicked back into rhythm as it processed the information. did he say *die*? Was he going to kill me? Then my vision went distorted and the world went black.\n\n---\n\nI awoke to the smell of fresh grass. The light burned my eyes as they adjusted from my .... forced nap. It. Was. Beautiful. The landscape stretched on for miles of lush, green grass with small multi-colored flowers. Small Trees dotted the forest in the distance. The scene was so beautiful I almost forgot that I had just died. Almost...\n\nThey told me I had died but it all seemed so real. I flexed my hands and moved my fingers and everything seemed to work as it had before. \"Did I really die?\"\n\nA small light-blue box popped up in my vision reminding me of something from an old video game.\n\n>Thank you for Visiting Dungeons. To start, please say \"Menu\".\n\nThe only option on the menu was an \"OK\" button. I tried to look around the menu and grab it, but only the button was tangible. The menu itself almost seemed to follow my vision. I quickly pressed the OK button and stood up.\n\n\"Menu?\" I stated in a confused voice.\n\nAnother Menu popped up with a character-like stat menu.\n\n>Player: Star \n\n>Class: Hero \n\n>SubClass: Magic Hero \n\n>Level: 1 \n\n>Abilities: None\n\n> Feats: None\n\n> Items: None\n\nLevel 1 with no abilities. Seems like the wizard forgot a few things when he gave us all the essential items. What exactly was a Magic Hero? I decided to give magic a try and while holding out my hand I yelled \"Fireball!\" Nothing occurred, not even a puff of smoke. \n\"I guess magic has to be obtained or learned?\" I said to myself. Really starting off as a great magic hero. \n\nMy stomach began to growl. As beautiful as the scenery was, there still wasn't a source of food anywhere around. The landscape held no hope of a village or town. No animals seemed to scurry in the grass nor any edible fruits or berries. \n\nI had no other choice but to pick a direction and walk. I decided to walk toward the trees in the distance, If there was no village maybe he could at least find some animals in the forest he could hunt. \n\nThis world was incredible, I couldn't see any differences from the real world. Birds began to sing as I got closer to the forest and a light mist started to fall from the sky. I thought about trying to catch a bird, but if it was anything like the real world that would just make me more tired and hungry.\n\nAs I went deeper into the woods, large red berries appeared on some of the bushes intertwined by the trees. I was so hungry, so tired. I ate them without restraint. \n\n>You have been poisoned. \n\nThe popup made me freeze. *Poisoned?* I stared at the berries in my hand and immediately dropped them. My hand went numb almost immediately after where the berries were a moment prior. The bushes rustled behind me, my body refusing to turn and see if it was friend or foe. A screeching, gargling noise was all I heard before my vision went red.\n\n> You have died. \n\n>You have lost 20% Experience\n\n>You have lost all items \n\n>All Other Penalties negated due to level being below 10.\n\nAnd once again, I had died.\n\n---\n---\n\nAll I have time for, Please leave any feedback. Trying to improve."
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Fun facts!
* [The Victorian Era in England](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victorian_era) dated 1837-1901
* [The Old American Frontier era](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_frontier) ended in 1912
* [The Meiji Restoration period](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meiji_period) dated 1868-1912
* [Piracy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piracy_in_the_Caribbean) and [privateering](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Privateer) continued until the mid-1800s due to the Latin American Wars of Independence and the American Civil War. Widescale Caribbean piracy only really ended ([1](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piracy_in_the_Caribbean#End_of_an_era), [2](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Privateer#17th,_18th_and_19th_centuries)) because of the invention of steam ships, the rise of American naval power in the region, and the 1856 *Paris Declaration Respecting Maritime Law*.
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[WP] A disgraced samurai, an Old West gunslinger, a Victorian gentleman thief, and an elderly French pirate go on an adventure
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"A man with whiskers, of shiny gray and black, sits a top of the unseeable Indian ocean. His mop like hair sits with hair cutting into each others paths, a firm right hand resting on the eagles nest worn wood, with cuts and sword marks. He swings a bottle of whisky around, his left hand still enough, as it holds the bottle supine in the air, and dashes it in an arc, the way he use to, but without the whiskey of course. His thin wrists set the bottle in between his knee's, and he patted the man with an upright white collar, a cigar, and a top hat that sank under it's own tenuous circular walls - walls that sagged like the gentleman's skin, as he smiled an older face out into the Indian night. His face seemed apropos to the Frenchman's feelings, and he finished his pat on the man's back like one would with a sick child. He lifted the whiskey back out from his knee's place and let it rest on the crows nest. Something had changed, and they both understood it. What it was was a mystery, but very known to them both. The way you both see something no one else see's, and instantly feel a bond knowing the other knows. It was only fitting for a crows nest stint.",
"​\n\nThe snow was tumbling through the air, kissing the cobblestones with icy lips. Inside, the fire had settling down, crackling to itself contentedly. The sounds of the city were muffled, and the occasional carriage was oddly comforting as it struggled past the club in the ever-deepening snow. New years eve in the Travellers Club. Four figures sat in silence around the drawing-room, the only sound the occasional puff of a cigar, the sniffing of a brandy, or the smacking of appreciative lips for some of life’s few remaining pleasures. At last, one of the figures broke the silence. Directing his words towards the fire, his received pronunciation cut through the cosy air:\n\n“Well, gentlemen. Another year gone, and here we still are.” He looked around at the other three figures and paused before he continued, “You know, I really am sick of this.”\n\nAt this, the others looked at him lazily, their minds slowly dragged back to the present.\n\n“And what, pray tell, exactly is it that you are sick of?” Asked the American, his cigar held loosely between his thumb and forefinger of one hand, ash slowly tumbling onto the oriental carpet. \n\n“I believe the monsieur is referring to our self-imposed house arrest,” the Buccaneer chuckled, raising his brandy to his lips before running his tongue over his handlebar moustache, clearing away the drops that rested there like morning dew. “But of course, the problem is we are all sick of it. And the irony is that we are all too sick to do anything else, is that not so, Monsieur Samurai?”\n\nThe final figure nodded weakly, his eyes half-closed. It was late, and the Samurai was normally asleep by this hour, only the warmth of the drawing room and the company of his old friends kept him up. He idly ran a hand over the right wheel of his chair, rearranged the blanket on his lap, and coughed. Having cleared his throat, he said, “Yes, we are sick. I am sick most of all I believe. I do not want to end it like this, however. I always thought I would find…” He trailed off, his gaze settled on the smouldering coals. \n\n“You thought you would find?” The Thief leaned forward, his curiosity piqued.\n\n“Absolution,” finished the Samurai, removing his heavy spectacles and rubbing at his eyes. \n\n“Ah, of course. I always placed rather more emphasis on worldly possessions you understand. Material wealth that is. But I suppose it led me here nonetheless.” The thief laughed, a sharp bark that started a coughing bout. A sip of sherry later, he continued, “Surely you must have felt the same way, Monsieur Buccaneer?”\n\n“Ah oui, I suppose. Although, if I am being honest, I did it more for the women than for the gold,” the buccaneer chuckled. “You must have come upon both gold and women in your line of work?” This question was directed at the American, who had the decency to shake his head modestly. \n\n“Well, y’all know how it is. You save towns from bandits and the like, let’s just say the ladies don’t hate you for it.” He chuckled, and tried to raise his cigar to his lips. His hands were trembling, and the others politely pretended not to notice how long it took him to take a drag. \n\n“Well gentlemen,” the Thief continued, “I for one do not intend on sitting around waiting for the reaper like some common grandfather. Our bodies may be frail, but our minds are still sharp. What say you, we have ourselves a little fun?” His eyes twinkled mischievously. \n\n“Ah, monsieur, you have my attention. And what sort of fun would this be?”\n\n“Well, my good friend, the sort of fun that people will remember us for. The sort of fun that may well kill us, but you can be damn well sure that it’ll be better dying doing this then sitting here in a warm room while our bodies slowly give up. Thoughts?”\n\n“I could do with a holiday,” The Samurai said. “Maybe a voyage somewhere warm?”\n\n“Ah oui! I like the idea of a voyage.”\n\n“Really?” The American asked, his trembling cigar dripping ash, “in our state? Where would we go? What would we do?\n\n“Well,” said the Thief, leaning forward conspiratorially, “have you ever heard of the treasure of Tokugawa?” The Samurai’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward in his wheelchair. The Thief continued, “Reported to have been buried in Mount Akagi not forty years ago, it would cement our names in the history books. We would have to sail a long way to get there, most likely save a village or two from bandits, and steal the greatest treasure in the world. Or,” the Thief sat back in his chair, “We can die here, one by one, in anonymity.”\n\nThe others looked at each other, then the Buccaneer spoke, “Well I for one still feel the pull of the ocean. I have sailed this way before, I can take us there…” \n\n“My hands may not be what they used to,” The American cut in, “But a proper adventure, even if it doesn’t involve saving towns from bandits. Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”\n\nThey all looked at the Samurai. He gazed into the fire, his dark eyes clouded with memory. Finally he looked up at the rest of them and smiled. “It would be good to see my country one last time.”\n\nThe Thief clapped his hands, “Very well! Gentlemen, let us raise a glass, to adventure, to excitement, to one last hurrah before we submit to the ravages of time!”\n\nTheir glasses joined in the air, and three of them pretended not to notice how one of them rattled and clinked against the others a little more than completely necessary. They were the last of their kind. The last great explorers, the last adventurers, the last renegades. And they weren’t going to give up now. \n\n​\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n​\n\nAfter months of lurking, this is my very first time responding to a fantastic prompt. Feedback would be great, thank you!",
"\"So let me get this straight. A samurai, a gunslinger, a thief, and a pirate--all from different time periods, mind you-- walk into four different bars in four different countries. And somehow, we've all met up in this here room. Correct me if I've gone insane, which i'm starting to believe is the likelier option, but I think that's what happened.\"\n\nThe Victorian thief, Baxter, nodded his head. \"It would appear so, my gun-slinging friend. However the whats don't really matter at this juncture, I'm afraid. What I'm more concerned about is the *whys* and how we can reverse it.\"\n\nAlonzo the gunslinger scratched his head in thought. They fell into silence. After a few moments Alonzo broke it. \"Well I haven't got a single clue.\"\n\nBaxter sighed. \"Yes, yes. Very helpful, my friend. Thank you for your input. Any of the rest of you have some other, more helpful ideas to give us?\"\n\nHe turned to the two others in the room, the pirate, Julien and the samurai, Nitta.\n\nJulien just shook his head. \"This just seems like the start of a joke to me. I can't make heads or tails of it when it's actually happening.\"\n\nBaxter looked down. \"I see. So I guess all of us are just as lost as all the others. Stellar.\"\n\n\"Well...\" started Nitta. Baxter perked up, \"What is it? Had a flash of inspiration, did you? Thought of something important?\"\n\n\"No, nothing like that. I believe we're all equally confused. I just wanted to suggest we should look around for clues or other things of that nature.\"\n\n\"Well that's a tad disappointing. But you do have a point. For starters, we should try to find a way out of this room.\"\n\nThey all looked around where they were. It was a medium-sized room, with black walls, ceiling, and floor surrounding them.\n\nJulien reached down and touched the floor \"I've never felt anything as smooth as this,\" he remarked. \"It's as if it was carved from a single block of metal. Though, it doesn't feel very metallic.\"\n\n\"Yes, I haven't seen anything like it either. It feels unnatural,\" Baxter said.\n\nAlonzo grinned. \"This here's plastic. Back in my town, we just recently had a cart of it shipped to us for the first time. It's some useful stuff. I've never seen a whole room made out of it, though.\"\n\n\"I see,\" mused Nitta. \"So we seem to be at least in Alonzo's time. Maybe even further.\"\n\n\"Maybe so,\" said Baxter. \"But that still doesn't help us get out of here or get back to our own times. Let's keep searching.\"\n\nThey started looking around the entirety of the room. Although it was big, there weren't any furnishings or objects in it. After searching for a while, Julien finally said, \"Hey, you all should come take a look at this.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Alonzo asked, walking over to him.\n\nJulien just pointed to a small, metal rectangle on the wall.\n\n\"Are those... lights?\" continued Alonzo.\n\nBaxter and Nitta arrived behind him. \"They seem to be forming numbers. 1, 2, 3... Seems like it has 1-9 here.\" answered Baxter.\n\n\"Don't forget that zero on the bottom,\" Nitta added.\n\n\"Thank you for that,\" Baxter answered dryly. \"But the more pressing matter is what do they mean?\"\n\nEveryone looked to Alonzo. He just shrugged. \"This one isn't from my time. We must be later on.\"\n\nBaxter sighed again. \"So much for that plan. Regardless, this seems to be the only thing in the room, so it must hide some sort of clue.\"\n\nHe reached out to touch it. As he pressed the 3, a loud, mechanical beeping sound ensued.\n\nBaxter recoiled in shock. \"What was that?\"\n\n\"It seems to have come from the box.\" Nitta answered. \"How very odd...\"\n\n\"Odd indeed...\"\n\n*Bio-metric data analyzed* A robotic voice chirped from the box. *Data is a match. Entry granted.*\n\n\"What the-\" Alonzo started.\n\nHe was cut off by a loud swooshing noise. A section of the wall quickly receded into the ceiling.\n\n\"This is definitely, by far, the strangest thing I have ever seen.\" said Julien.\n\n\"Well, since they went through the effort of inviting us in, shall we oblige?\" Baxter asked.\n\nThey looked at one another. Alonzo shrugged. \"Eh. Why not?\"\n\nThey walked through the doorway into the bright light ahead."
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