Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
Feel free to deviate from the POV if you want :)	[WP] in a tinder-esque world where to be able to talk to anyone you must mutually nod at each other, you are the only person to have never been accepted, never knowing why.	[ "Steven was used to it by now, the vacant stares, eyes avoiding him, people looking right through him. He started the day like any other, slogged through his routine without human interaction. The girl at the coffee stand knew his order, the transaction held in silence. His instructors never called on him in class, his classmates talked to all the people around him. Steven went about his day, existing without talking to another human being.\nThe process was simple: Two people nodded at each other, then they could speak. It had become so natural to everyone else, that you had to look closely to see the tiny acknowledgement. Nodding was subtle, yet effective; you didn't have to interact with anyone you didn't want to speak to, there was no harassment or negotiation. Every discussion was sanitary, private, consensual. The Process was started to avoid miscommunication, the number one reason for crime and war. Long ago the leaders had decided and the people had agreed, The Process was best for everyone.\nSteven disagreed, but there was little he could do about it. He couldn't force people to talk to him, he couldn't trick them into chatting with him, he couldn't plead with someone to just say \"Hello.\" He had tried countless times, each attempt met with complete silence. Steven was persona non grata and always had been. \nHis parents were the most understanding about the whole thing, despite the fact they had never uttered a word to him. When he was a child, they used chalkboards and post-it notes to communicate to him, smiled at him when he did something well, frowned when he was being bad. It wasn't as good as talking with someone--Steven assumed--but at least his parents did their best to raise him under the circumstances.\nSteven used chalkboards and post-it notes to communicate with people. Most of them looked grateful they would not have to reject his nod and freely wrote to him. He had managed to forge a few weak friendships this way, nothing like the deep, intense relationships he saw in other people. Sure his friends helped him, wrote to him often, even went out with him, but the bonds of true friendship were never strengthened or even tested. \nGraduation was in a few weeks, but Steven could not muster up enough enthusiasm to enjoy it. He had already accepted a job at a data processing farm, where he would work in his cubicle all day, coding and working for his team of bosses via email. It was easiest for everyone.\nThere were days when Steven would think about why nobody would talk to him. He wasn't ugly, he was better-than-average looking by society's standards. He was a runner and often ran with his friends, as they did not have to talk to enjoy a good run. Steven looked normal, as far as he could tell, so he wondered what else was wrong with him.\nHe tried different lotions, creams, strange haircuts, wild t-shirts, not showering for a week, showering 3 times a day, wearing silly hats--nothing, absolutely nothing would change people's minds. They refused to nod.\nIt was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, the sun filtering through the windows of the cafe where Steven sipped his coffee. Ironically, he enjoyed people-watching, as he knew they would never talk to him. He could openly stare, confident nobody would challenge him, except with an occasional note. \nIt was because he was openly watching a couple break up that he missed her. She was old, easily in her 80s, and wore a plain blue dress with navy blue flat shoes. Her hair was short and neat, her glasses quite stylish. She, too, was people watching, and had her eyes set on Steven the moment he walked in the door. From her corner she studied him, her breathing became heavier and her heart raced the longer she watched him. The old woman became still as a statue, her coffee sat cold.\nSteven started to gather his belongings to leave, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The old woman had stood up and was moving toward him. Out of curiosity he looked her in the eye and nodded, she returned his gaze without a nod. Steven rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering why he even tried. \nShe walked up to him, took his hand, pressed a note into and left the coffee shop. Steven held the note just like every other note he had. Sometimes the notes said \"I'm sorry,\" or \"Have a great day,\" or even the occasional \"You are good-looking.\" He was not particularly eager to read another pity note, so he finished grabbing his stuff and left the cafe to get to class on time. Steven shoved the note in his pocket.\nAfter another boring, conversation-free class, Steven remembered the note and decided to read it. He took the yellow post-it note from his pocket and unfolded it. In perfect block lettering in black ink it read \"You were chosen.\"\nSteven looked at the note, confused. He had expected some fortune cookie nonsense or a polite \"God loves you anyway\" note from the old woman. He certainly didn't expect those three words.\n\"You were chosen.\" He crumpled the paper and uncrumpled it, the words did not change, he was not dreaming. \nSteven was alarmed because deep down in the core of his being, it made sense to him. It seemed as good an explanation as any as to why no other human had ever agreed to talk with him. \nHe walked home quickly, for once avoiding eye contact with people for fear they could see how terrified he was. What did this mean? Why him? He tapped out a quick email to his mother and told her about the note from the old woman. His mother enjoyed hearing little stories like this, strange things that happened to him because of The Process.\nAll evening Steven could think of nothing else. He ate, watched a little TV, took a very long walk. He was restless, trying to put a finger on the feeling in his gut that was growing and gnawing at him. \nWhen he got back to his apartment, Steven's mom was sitting on the couch, holding the familiar chalkboard that had held thousands of messages. It was obvious she had been crying, Steven moved in to hug her. She squeezed him hard, a mother's hug that usually held love and warmth. This one held fear.\nShe broke the hug and patted for him to sit on the couch beside her. With shaking hands, she scrawled on the chalkboard and showed it to Steven: \"She found you.\"\n\n\n", "It's kinda bullshit. Well, no...fuck that. It is bullshit. Here I am, a 22 year old Senior at University and having no mutual approvals. My brother has mutual approval. My mom received some after dad died. Me? A young guy with a promising future and average good looks? Not yet.\n\nOkay, I lied about the last bit. I recently stopped dyeing my hair (Green this last go) and I still have braces (It's more off putting than one may think).\n\nThe way I look is far from the worst part of this all. Walking around a large ass campus continually seeking out mutual approvals with The Nod^TM looking like a dysfunctional outcast is the shame of the campus. I've had a few videos of my constant shamming due to my repeated Nods^TM that hit over 5 million views. Only a handful hit those marks and it's when i'm inside and give The Nod rapid fire due to a class letting out. Other students (also faculty) will give Nods just so they can put me down even further.\n\nThen came today. This day is the day I finally got The Nod. Holy Shit. Fucking Brick. As I was going off campus headed home I ran into a girl who must have tripped and dropped all of her books. I rush towards her to help her pick up her things. She's gorgeous. But not in the way you think is gorgeous. She's my type of gorgeous. An average girl with overly baggy clothing that isn't major but is major enough to thwart off others from hitting on her due to the fact that the baggy clothes somewhat hide her true nature. That's really my biggest turn on. Baggy hide-my-body clothes. Weird, maybe. But she had the normal hair, glasses, eyes, hands, etc in mixed color variation so that's always nice.\n\nAs I reached her I somewhat dropped to my knees but somewhat fell to my knees and before I could began shoveling her books in my arms I think I may have almost killed her with surprise because she snapped her head up so fast while I was continuing my decent and in our fall/snap looks we must have activated The Nod by accident and I heard the smooth soft chime that happens when you are accepted and that i've heard only through stereo headphones while watching Nod videos. \n\nAs soon as the chime rang I was caught up in the moment and I began to tear up in my left eye. My right eye's gland only tears up when i'm laughing. My left is the one that goes all-out for the joyful and sad stuff. Not sure why. As the first tear descends down my cheek I hear her voice. I hear this girl's angelic voice. In person, mind you. Not through some headphone bullshit contraption. I get the genuine connection face-to-face and we're only inches apart. Shit, are we going to kiss? Why hasn't she moved away? And before I can ask a question, before I can move in for a kiss, maybe? Her word is picked up by my ears and focuses in on what she has to say...yes? Yes my darling?\n\n\"shit\"" ]	2
Any weapon, any type of warrior, any type of craftsman, any time era.	[WP] - You're a craftsman that is making a weapon for a legendary warrior. While working, you realize the perfect material recipe to release your masterpiece's true powers. The weapon is created, you name it.	[ "\"The clinger\"\n\nStep 1. Masterbate into water ballon.\nStep 2. Mix elmers glue, dog shit, glitter, cat urine\nShredded insulation into large bowl.\nStep. 3 shove ballon up ass and eat whats in bowl.\n\n\"Are you sure this will give me super powers?\" Said eric.\n\n\"Yeah, sure.\"\n\n\"And i wont get sick or anything?\"\n\n\"I dont know, maybe.\"\n\n\"Oh man! First thing im gonna do is go to the roof and grab my shoe that the bullies threw up there!\"\n\n\"Yeah, cool man, good luck with that.\"\n\nEric ran home after collecting all the ingrediants. He followed step by step and gained the power of flight. Didnt get sick at all really. Was pretty cool actually.", "It's the same old story, this bloke had to be somewhere at sometime.\n\nHe was some knight or something, I never really pay attention to stuff like that, all I cared about was how much he was paying me.\n\nHe said something about vanquishing the Black Slayer who had been ruling over his home country and turning it into some dictatorship hell hole.\n\nHe was willing to pay me 1,000,00 gold pieces for this sword he wanted me to make, I told him I'll have it done in a nine days. I just need some time to perfect the sword.\n\nThen he gave me half of the agreed price and left to gather the other half, I started making the sword, I chose an alloy of steel and the undying metal I had taken from a hell-tigers heart.\n\nThe process in mixing these two metals into an alloy gave off fumes that cranked you up and got you high. I was seeing rainbows in the dark.\n\nI took this to the local enchanter and paid him 100 gold pieces to enchant this alloy before I hammered it into a blade. He drew some runes and said some thing about satanic demons,\n\nthen he told me this alloy was too strong for him, so I should take it to the man on the silver mountain, he gave me a refund and I left on a pilgrimage to\n\nThe Silver Mountain. It was a three day journey. Along the way I met some interesting characters, some masquerade star high on cocaine half the time\n\ntalking about riding tigers or something, and some stranger trying to kill me, along with an iron man who also tryed to murder me. After three days\n\nI made it to The Silver Mountain I came across some guru who said he would do dirty deeds done dirt cheap, I said that would be unnecessary, I\n\nonly needed some undying steel enchanted. He told me it would cost 320 silver pieces. I gave him the money and watched him enchant it.\n\nHe gave it back to me and said that only the chosen one, the Holy Diver could wield a weapon made from this enchanted alloy.\n\nI climbed back down The Silver Mountain, alloy in hand, and I met some kind traveller willing to take me back to the village for free, on his horse.\n\nWe made it back in only one day. When I started working the metal into the blade I noticed something odd, the bloody thing was turning\n\ninvisible, well, less invisible and more transparent like glass. After I made the hilt out of a 1000 year old chair along with some jewels from some necklace\n\nmy great grandmother left around, while strangling some of the rocks in my garden in a fit of religous excitement and senility.\n\nAfter the sword was finshed I was surprised how heavy it was, I couldn't pick it up, let alone hand it to the knight.\n\nI decided to name the Heavy Metal sword after 4th crimson king of the knights country, DIO.\n\nI told the knight I was done with the sword and showed it to him, to my astonishment he picked it up with one hand easily.\n\nHe told me of the anchient struggle between the Crimson King and the Black Slayer.\n\nI told him halfway through to shut up and pay me.\n\nHe asked about the blade, I told him it was like broken glass, you get cut before you see it.\n\nHe left and paid me the other half of his bill.\n\nI checked the news the day after. CRIMSON KING DIO THE 4TH RETURNS TO REIGN OVER HIS COUNTRY, check page 8 for more info.\n", "I sat focused in quiet isolation, dark, wet, cold, and in the distance a faint hissing but otherwise silent. All of my training had brought me to this moment and this time my master would be unable to help.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nStill picturing the end result in my mind’s eye visualizing how each individual part fit together I deconstructed the blade in my mind piece by piece and put it back together in reverse order over and over as I had practised for half a decade. Polished metal aligned with reinforced bolts, the pommel spun effortlessly against perfectly crafted threads and at the heart of the blade a sky blue gem whose power pulsed through the hilt.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI visualized how the parts all supported one another, how the weapon would react to the commands given by a true master, a reliable blade for a true hero. A hero who could challenge the greatest foe and…\n\nNo, must focus like my master instructed.\n\nThe weapon would be unique, it was my masterpiece. Off in the distance a faint hissing grows louder as if to rush me to completion. I begin to seal the blade and wrap the handle in a soft exquisite leather embroidered with the name of the craftsman, my name.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFootsteps. He’s come so soon. I’ve only just finished! I leap to my feet and snatch up the blade prepared to greet my visitor. His hissing heaving breaths precede him as he storms through the entryway clad head to toe in black armor, a great cloak over his shoulders. He eyes the weapon I’ve just finished constructing and with an emotionless voice he speaks from behind his mask,\n\n“The force is strong with you Lostvision, but you are not a Jedi yet…”", "I have watched countless battles unfold throughout my lifetime. Many good men and women have been slaughtered by my hands. I am tired of the bloodshed caused by my gift. No more or so I thought.\n\nI recall it like it was yesterday, the day a young man knocked on my door. He wasn’t much to look at, but I saw something in his eyes. He asked of me what all heroes ask of me which the most powerful weapon that I could forge. I told him plainly that I am not in that business anymore and that I am tired of watching my weapons hurt others. It’s been 10 years since I last picked up my hammer to forge something for a warrior and it’s going to remain that way going forward.\n\nYoung man looks me up and down before saying quite plainly, “Make a weapon that you can be proud of. I will pay for it regardless.”\n\nA smirk passed my face as I considered his proposition, and then said, “Fine. I will make something that I will be proud of. Come back in a week” and so he left.\n\nIt felt odd picking up the hammer after so long, but the drumming of steel felt so familiar with just a single strike. I didn’t get a wink of sleep because I worked through the night on it, never once taking a break. It was as if I was releasing 10 years of suppressed stress with every familiar motion, from the cooling of the heated blade to the pounding of it with my hammer. It felt like heaven once more, because I finally realized the type of blade that I would indeed be proud of.\n\nThe week breezed by and the young man once more showed up at my door. The longsword that I had forged was flawless, my finest work by far. I knew no blade that I make afterwards will compare and that this sword will be my legacy. The blade itself was made of silver while the hilt was made of iron and it was as sharp as it was beautiful. The young man took the sword and he marveled at the light weight of it and balance as he swung it through the air a couple of times to get a feel for it. He nodded his approval and paid me my fee without ever asking me anything about the sword. I guess he will find out soon enough the secret of my sword, “The Lifegiver”.\n\nThat sword will never take a single life, and instead will grant the wielder the power to heal thanks to the herbs I mixed in when making the blade. He should’ve listened when I told him that I am tired of my weapons being used to hurt others, and now they won’t. Never again will another son lose their father because of me and my selfishness.\n", "As the zombies moaned outside his front door, the man sat at his table, looking down at the plans. He knew it could be done. Nobody had ever done it before.This sword would be a work of art. A thump. The zombie was persistent. He'd made sure to upgrade his door into a heavily reinforced steel door. Not that wooden crap everyone else used. This was probably why the adventurer wanted his services. He'd paid in advance, a few gold ingots resting on the side of the table.\n\nAnother thump. It wasn't a very smart creature. The man looked out his window. The moon was just passing the horizon. Soon, the sun would rise, the creatures of the night resting once more. The man moved from his table and walked over to his chest. Opening it up, he saw the mess of items strewn about, no order to anything. He reached in and pulled out the items he needed.\n\nMoving back to the table, he could hear the zombies burning as the sun pierced the sky, rising to its place on top of the world once more. He placed the items on the table, and started crafting the weapon. His client would arrive soon. he carved the wood into sticks, a wooden hilt was generally a bad idea, but he had faith in his skill that the wood would hold better than any metal hilt ever would. A knock rang out, and he'd turned to see the adventurer peering in from behind the open slits in the door. Reaching over, he pulled a lever that activated the doors mechanism, allowing the adventurer inside. Neither one of them saw the monster behind him.\n\nThe hissing came out of nowhere, and within a second the explosion, shooting the adventurer forward, and blowing off the front entrance to the shop. Then the skeletons appeared. Their safety from the sun rested in the treetops surrounding them, the forest just out of reach of the hut. That didn't stop their arrows though. The projectiles flew in through the now opening, piercing the man in the knee, several indenting themselves in the walls, a couple in the adventurers chest.\n\n\"Quick, the sword!\" The adventurer yelled, holding his hand out to the man. He turned back to his table, placing one of the sticks and two diamonds above it in a line, and watched as they melded together, a blue tinged blade of his newest creation shining in the daylight. He grabbed the sword and threw it at the adventurer, who caught it and charged forward towards the skeletons, just as a stray arrow embedded itself in the mans chest. \n\nHe dropped to the ground, feeling the beat of his heart slowly fading. He looked up as the adventurer sliced through the beasts, and as the world grew dark, the man had a smile on his face. The adventurer would save us all....after all, now he had \"Justice\".", "Orlien appeared in my doorway after nightfall, casting a faint shadow from the moonlight into the floor of my shop. The inky black leathers he wore blurred his edges with the night and hid most of his intimidating physique. He was a terrifying sight to behold, and for countless many, their last.\n\nIn the three hundred years I had been making blades, I had not poured my soul into my work such as this. But my age and my own story is a tale for another time.\n\nAs much as my craft was bladesmithing, Orlien's was death. And for as much of my soul that I poured into his blade, he poured as much and more of his hatred. A man this powerful would have power in his blood. I suggested that he provide some for the blade, and he obliged. Without wincing, he took his dagger to his arm and unleashed a steady flow onto the steel as I was folding it with my hammer.\n\nCountless times the steel was folded, adding charcoal dust for strength and flexibility. The dagger was one solid piece of folded steel, the dark and light layers rippled like lightning across the blade, and the handle was precisely fitted to Orlien's hand. I polished and stropped the blade, giving it angry bite. Testing it with my thumb, it effortlessly sliced through, yet somehow the pain it caused was as if it were burning and tearing through my flesh, no doubt the loathing inside Orlien's blood gave the blade this property.\n\nI wrapped the blade in a satchel of leather and handed it to it's master. Etched into the leather was the name I had given my work, \"Animus\", for if hatred could be manifest physical, it would be the object wrapped in his hands. He removed it, and tested the evil edge himself. He wasn't happy, I'm not sure the man had ever known happiness in however long his cursed life was, but he was pleased with my work. After dropping a purse of gold coins in my hand he disappeared into the night, no doubt to find the person that would be the sheath for his new blade.", "My arms burn with the effort of each strike of the hammer on the anvil, as I slowly pound out the form of the tool. The weapon, truly, though none know it but myself and the one who commissioned it. I thrust the glowing metal into the drum of oil to allow it to cool, and wipe my brow, contemplating this strangest of jobs.\n\n\"You are the only one remaining with the skills to make the tool I need, and it must be forged by hand.\" His deep, sonorous voice resonated in my mind. \"I will provide you with as much currency as you need, and any equipment you cannot provide for yourself.\"\n\nMy breath back, I pluck another glowing hot bar from the furnace and begin rhythmically striking it, and thinking. I took up this strange trade as a hobby, learning to craft from an old man who was equally an oddity. An Aberration? That would be the perfect name for this. A strange object made by a strange man for yet another strange man.\n\nI worked on, forming the hilt and cutting it. Binding the hilt to the blade's tang. Wrapping the hilt in leather, and finally taking a laser- the most modern tool he would allow me to use- to etch in the symbols, as well as the sword's name. Odd, it almost seemed to glow. No matter, probably just a trick of tired eyes.\n\nGently, I wrap the sword and set it on the rack, and head for the tube. The mysterious man's starship would arrive tomorrow, and with him, I felt only trouble could follow." ]	7
	[WP] A cruise ship that once you board you can never get off.	[ "So it's a Class three Sealiner. Amelia Earheart is rumoured to have crashlanded right next to one of these babies. Not... ha!... not this one, obviously. That would be impossible!\n\nLet me show you around. Over here is the skeeball. You might think it's just a game for kids, but oh boy! Just you wait. You throw the balls, it goes up into these holes, and then... then!\n\nWhat do you mean, 'then what?'\n\nYeah. Then you do it again. And there's points. Hey, maybe it is a game for kids. Anyway, you want something more adult, we've got everything. Eight bars, there's two nightclubs - we've even got a casino.\n\nWhat's that?\n\nOh, if I had a ducat for every time someone asked me when we'd get to the next port! \n\nA ducat. Ah, right, right. Anyway. Over here, we've got minigolf. A lot of good times had on this course, let me tell you. I played on this very course with Lord Lucan, you know.\n\nWell, duh! Obviously before. I mean. Hah! 'Before?'. You kids. Anastasia Romanov actually - you know what? Never mind. Right over here we've got the bingo hall. It's my favourite. I mean, a lot a new games around, a lot of technology on the ship, but some good ol' fashioned bingo always hits the spot. \n\nOh, if I had a nickel for every time someone asked when we'll reach the destination! Nickels are still a thing, right? I'd be rich! Rich with current, legal tender.\n\nSo, the wifi password is foreverandever, and our concierge is available twenty-four hours a day. We'll have you back to the thirteen colonies before you know it. Any questions before I get back to my post?\n\nAny other questions?\n\nAny others... at all?\n\nAh... I hate this part. Did you notice our gangplanks? Our lifeboats? Our doors?\n\nExactly.\n\nI'll leave you to figure the rest out with the other guests. Our oldest guest, Mr Hoffa over there - he's quite vocal on the subject.\n\nSee you at dinner?", "Dec. 12 1986 - first entry.\n\nFor months ive been on this ship, masturbating non stop. \nThere is no getting off. My penis is but a shade of its former self. I have altered the direction of the ship in search of a new destination. An island. A cure. And end to my suffering.\n\nMarch 2nd 1987 - second entry\n\nWere lost. Lost at sea. My crew is turning on me. My cock is a bloody mess. Literally. Theres nothing left. I will not give up. i will get off.\n\nOct. 7th 2017 - third and finally entry.\n\nI did it. I fucking did it. I jizzed. All over their corpses. I had to cut my balls open and spoon it out but i did it. Weve arrived today. A beautiful new world. I shall claim it. For engIand. I shall call it \"america\".\n\n\" and that was the story of christopher columbus...\" Said the future teacher to the bored students.\n\n\"Any questions?\" She said with her robot lips.\n\n\"Yeah, why are we learning about this shit? Isnt this galaxies away.\" Ghxbtp said.\n\n\"Fuck you ghxbtp.\" Steam shot from the teachers wings.\n\n\"Any other questions?\"" ]	2
	[WP] First contact with an advanced space-faring race is made in major cities on the eve of WWII in 1939	[ "http://image.slidesharecdn.com/modernworldhistorytextbooksocialtb-140208031911-phpapp01/95/modern-world-history-textbook-social-tb-16-638.jpg?cb=1391830310\n\nChapter 32: World War II and Initial Contact\n\n1. The First Message & It's Cultural Impact\n2. Hitler's Lightning War\n3. Japan's Pacific Campaign\n4. The Holocaust\n5. Arrival of the Ambassadors\n6. Europe and Japan in Ruins\n\nhttp://image.slidesharecdn.com/modernworldhistorytextbooksocialtb-140208031911-phpapp01/95/modern-world-history-textbook-social-tb-17-638.jpg?cb=1391830310\n\nUnit 8: Perspectives on the Present\n\nChapter 33: Foundations of the New World\n\n1. Mild Tensions Between Superpowers\n2. Colonization of China\n3. Colonization of Korea and Vietnam\n4. Ambassadors, Superpowers Unite\n\nChapter 34: A Period of Unease\n\n1. The Rise and Fall of Mahatma Gandhi\n2. Uprisings in Southeast Asia\n3. End of African Nationalism\n4. Failed Colonization of the Middle East & Central Asia\n5. Protests within the Superpowers", "Poznan, United People's Polish Republic\n\nThe man I visited in my journey was on a cot in a gray colored room. His face was stern and had piercing grey eyes. Bartek Nosek held a cane to support his frail body. \n\nWhat was the state of affairs in Poznan on August 30th 1939?\n\nGod, where to start. Everyone knew what was going on, no matter what the government told us, we knew what was coming. The German army was going to jump the border and take Poland. We heard their aerial drills, seen the folks from the immediate border leave their villages. A lot of my neighbors as well fled including many of my friends. Poznan itself wasn't spared from the panic. As soon as people saw the refugees fleeing from the border, the grocery store shops were selling everything they could, cars filled with gas ready to flee at a moments notice. \n\nWhy didn't your family flee?\n\nTo be honest with you, I don't know why we didn't flee. My father must've thought it would've been impossible to get out- my mother denied that war was coming. In a way, I suppose both of them were right in the end. At least, it wasn't the war we all thought was coming.\n\nWhat happened when they arrived?\n\n/I'll come back to this later, I have a good feeling bout this prompt." ]	2
	[WP] In a fantasy world, you are a sailor that is exploring the "Unknown Regions". Every day, you document your trip by writing a letter and then release this document to sea in its own bottle. Write one such document.	[ "43 Martide, 1301 of the Revenant Era.\n\nI'm scribbling this note furiously so that I can toss it into a bottle and whip it off the ship as quickly as possible. But it's imperative this is written. Imperative! Because we've done it. We've found land! Our first major landmass and it's only taken three hundred days! Our stores were running low and a few men came ill days ago, but for the most part the journey has been smooth.\n\nMany of us expected sea giants, foreign pirates, mermaids, whirlpools, and all manner of natural and unnatural obstacles. That hasn't been the case. There simply isn't a reason, from what we've yet seen, that no ship has yet returned. I, Jacob Stamos, tell you that any steadfast ship with a resolute crew should find themselves able to happen upon land with the proper bearing. I send this note in the case that I'm not blessed with the opportunity to tell the motherland myself, but hope that all goes well.\n\nI beseech the man who reads this to immediately return it to the state for a sum of no less than 50 Wicker Bars so that men may lead follow-on expeditions.\n\nSigned,\n\nJacob Stamos, Imperial Navy\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI held the letter in my hand, reading it over and over to try and recall the emotions I'd felt at the time. It had been an incredible surge of emotion, tossing the bottle and watching it float away. From there, we'd made our way toward the land mass. It looked ripe for the picking and full of opportunity. The sort of place where you see fruit-bearing trees by the dozens and pigs the size of bears.\n\nUnfortunately, not minutes after I'd tossed the bottle, the ship made impact on some sort of obstacle under the water. We'd later find out it was a reef that had formed a buffer around the land mass we approached. That, paired with the peril of the waters below, meant only two of us made it to land. Myself and one other.\n\nI held the soggy note in my hand. It had shattered the hope I'd clung to for weeks. The beach was littered with my bottles. Every message I'd penned in the last three months could be found here, but I hoped beyond hope that this one had made it. And here, in my own hands, was proof that it did not.\n\nThat night, Jessica committed suicide. She'd dared to hope with me and I thought her strong, but she abandoned me. She swims in bluer waters now. But I.... I knew, at that moment, that I must go on. My message must reach my people, no matter the cost. As long as I lived, the story of me, and of my crew, rested on my shoulders alone. So I walked.\n\nFor days I wandered on my own. The land was forgiving. The wildlife appeared alien to me, but not impossible to understand. I was cautious enough to avoid the fauna, and subsisted almost purely on meat. I wasn't the best hunter and sometimes had to go days between meals. Luckily, I had found a river within the first month had no worries when it came to water.\n\nAfter three months of following the river, the air grew noticeably colder. Leaves turned from green to red, and I knew my time was running out. It was within the first week of autumn that I encountered them.\n\nThe others. Human, like me. But not without quirks. Their eyes were different. Black, where mine were white. Their noses turned upward in a devilish sort of way and they had no hair on their heads.\n\nThe clothes they wore, though.... My, did I envy them upon our first meeting. They dressed in such a way as to make me feel ashamed of myself. I hadn't had a change in attire for what must have been four months, but even if I'd worn a fresh suit I would still be little more than a pet to them in their lavish garments. And it told me so much more about them as a people. I knew, in that moment, that these were an intelligent people. I never once feared for my life, not in a conventional sense.\n\nThey took me in immediately, as curious of me as I was of them. Over the course of months and years we taught one another our ways. I took a Sheidlaein wife and she is with child now, so that I know we share a common ancestor. I speak their tongue fluently and work to become a scholar among them.\n\nMy mission will be completed, though never in my own lifetime. What I have done and continue, to this day, is chronicled every moment of my journey within the pages of this lofty tome. What you've read is simply a sample of this journey, the barest minimum; as much I could relate within the space of the cover. You who read these words know, you who can decipher the \"designs\" on this cover, will be the first to truly understand how I came to this continent. For no man other than myself has ever read these written words in my old language.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBeginning", "Fifth day of Sundtorn, year 215 A.F.\n\nIt's been three weeks now since we left Jakos Island and five of our crew members behind. I still don't get the appeal of the island. I mean, it was a nice place, the locals were quite friendly and the food was delicious, but how can one choose to spend the rest of his life on such a desolated and isolated place when you can sail the Unknown Regions?\n\n\nThere were about twenty-five of us left now after forty years of sailing. For the amount of time we've been gone it's actually surprisingly there are still some of us left. I mean, a lot can happen in forty years. We had casualties, mutinies, desertions and even a short case of the pocks, but somehow we made it this far. I'd like to give myself on credit for that, I am a Healer after all.\n\n\nSo, three weeks since the last time was saw land, small as it may have been. All around us, the waves sway calmly on the wind and occasionally, a brownfish jumps out to greet us. As I'm writing this, one of the sailors attempts to spear the magnificent beast with a mighty throw. A small smile appears on my face as he misses the shot and gets berated by Captain Serath. Brownfish are sacred animals in his religion, claimed to be the embodiments of the God of Guidance; Y'vu.\n\n\nTo my surprise, the brownfish doesn't seemed to be scared off by the attempted murder. He starts circling the ship, leaping into the air every so often and clacking his tongue in a series of loud clicks. As the sailors halt their work to look at the aquatic acrobat, Captain Serath calls me to his cabin. I can see by the look on his face he has some unpleasant news in store for me.\n\n> \n\nMore over at /r/Neite !" ]	2
	[WP] You are given the option to see how you're going to die. The problem is, every time you finish watching, your death changes, because knowing how you're going to die allows your future self to prevent said death.	[ "The streetlights blazed against the harsh darkness of midnight, glazing the damp asphalt in streaks of reflection. It was beautiful, in the calm way darkness tends to be--probably. But Andy's mind was too muddied with exhaustion to appreciate any of it. Aside from the beauty of the green lights which shortened his trip home, that is. \n\nHe barely managed to change out of his work uniform before collapsing. His bed welcomed him with open arms--and soft sheets.\n\n****\n\nSilence.\n\nThere was nothing but silence. All around. No physical objects. Nothing to look at. Nothing to see. Just blaring silence.\n\nSlowly, Andy became aware of a soft clacking, like shoes against marble. But there was no marble. There was no floor. Yet there must have been: he himself had to be standing on something. And if it was footsteps he was hearing, whose? He hadn't taken so much as a single step. \n\n\"They would be mine.\"\n\nA man had strode up next to Andy. An older man, but somehow, he seemed unaged. He was the only other person--or thing, for that matter--visible, but he seemed to be exactly where he belonged.\n\n\"I'm sorry, who are you?\" Andy was startled, but not at all afraid: the man radiated benevolence.\n\n\"Michaelangelo, Keeper of the Gate.\"\n\n\"Keeper of the--\"\n\n\"Just call me Mike.\" He waved his hand, dismissing Andy's confusion. \"You're about to be given a once and a lifetime chance, Andrew. If you so desire, I would like to grace you with the knowledge of how you die.\"\n\nAndy furrowed his brow, shook his head, then sighed. The questions filing into his head didn't seem worth sorting through. So he kept it simple: \"Seriously?\" \n\nMike chuckled, a hearty sound that only added to his kind appearance. \"Yes. I wish to show you how you will die.\"\n\nHe must be dreaming. That was the conclusion Andy came to. And that conclusion was ultimately the thing that lead him to agree. And so they began their walk forward on not-there marble into nothingness. \n\nOr so he thought. But instead of ending up in more silence, Mike had brought Andy into what appeared to be a living room. How they got there was a mystery--the carpeted floor, leather couch, and flat-screen TV seemed to appear out of nowhere.\n\n\"We remodeled recently. An attempt to keep up with the changing times, you could say.\" Mike spoke as if they had just taken a stroll out to his apartment or place of work. He seemed unfazed by Andy's lack of response, not skipping a single beat as he reached for a remote and clicked on the TV. \"Ready?\" \n\nAndy shrugged. \"As I'll ever be, I guess.\"\n\nStatic screamed across the TV, clearing to reveal nothing more than Andy himself--slightly older, but still just Andy--standing behind the register at his own personal Hell of a job. Several minutes of normality passed. \n\n\"I don't know, man. I look pretty ali--\"\n\nBang. Andy whipped his head around, just in time to watch a bullet pierce his forehead. \n\nMike shook his head. \"No, that's not right.\" Another click of the remote and the TV was playing back a different scene, this time of a much older Andy whose life was stolen by a heart attack.\n\nConcern and confusion tugged at Mike's expression. Another click, another scene. This routine was repeated countless times over was felt like only a few minutes but was probably more. Time had faded into the nothingness shortly after Mike first appeared. Watching himself die over and over in so many different ways rendered Andy nauseous. He bent down, fixing his gaze on the floor. But there was no longer plush carpet for him to look at. Instead, he was faced with another image of himself: one of him lying in bed, skin sunken and paled with starvation. \n\nAndy's eyes glazed over with fear. He turned slowly to Mike. \"How long have I been here?\" He had only enough time to catch the flash of shock that enveloped Mike's face before his vision faded to black. ", "Ted reclined in his chair and watched triumphantly as his friend Dale took his most prized invention for a test drive. He tilted his head to glimpse out the window and up to his house at the top of the hill. His wife had made him move his workshop nearly two hundred yards from the house. Being a \"mad scientist\" was keeping the baby awake at night. Dinner would be ready in an hour or so, it was nearly 7PM.\n\n\"Your machine is broken, Ted.\" \n\"What!? What did you do? Did you drop it?\" \n\"No, I mean it still shows the future it's just... broken\" . \n\"What the fuck do you mean \"broken\", how can it be \"broken\" if it's showing you the mother fucking future, Dale!?\" \nDale took a deep breath. \n\"Calm down Ted, I'm not shitting on your invention, it's just that it doesn't really work as intended.\" \nTed straightened his back, narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. \"What exactly do you mean?\" \n Dale was careful with his next words, seeing as Ted was quick to take offense at any criticism of his invention.\n\"Well, it keeps changing... the future, I mean. I looked up what I was going to be doing ten minutes from now, and I saw myself eating lunch, when I looked again, I was having a conversation with you. A conversation very similar to this one.\" \n\nTed sighed, and a smile started to crawl across his face. \"Oh! You had me scared for a minute. That's the whole point of the thing, Dale. You're changing the future. What's the point of seeing the future if you can't change it?\"\n\n\"But I didn't change anything! All I did was use the machine again.\" \n\n\"Don't you get it Dale? Simply by knowing what's going to happen, you changed things. Like, imagine if you saw that you would get hit by a bus tomorrow... you're sure as hell going to look both ways every time you cross the street for the rest of your life.\" Ted's voice trailed off at the end of the sentence as realization hit.\n\nDale's eyes grew wide and he grabbed the headset of the machine. Dialing it forward as far as it would go, he zoomed to the end of his life. He saw himself, at sixty three years old, massively overweight, climbing the stairs at his best friend's house at a New Year's Eve party. Suddenly, the color drained from his face, and he clutched his chest, he tumbled down the stairs.\n\n\"Ok, so that's how I would have died, if I had never used this device again. No more KFC for me, I'll be as fit as a fiddle, and I know I'll live past sixty three.\" Dale said with confidence.\n\n\"Well... you might actually end up dying sooner. You may not make it to sixty-three.\" Ted reached toward the headset, wanting to take a turn of his own.\n\nDale squinted, obviously not following Ted's line of reasoning.\n\nTed continued. \"For example, what if next January you slip on some ice outside the gym, and crack your head. You wouldn't have even gone* to the gym if it weren't for that last glimpse into the future.\"\n\n\"Shit, you're right. Okay, here's an idea. I'll keep watching, over and over, until I end up dying in my sleep in my eighties twice in a row, that way I know I've found the winner.\"\n\n\"Ha! Okay. Have at it, Dale.\"\n\nMuch to Ted's surprise, after only twelve times watching his own death, apparently Dale had managed to secure a recurring death at eighty-five years old, lying in bed surrounded by family.\n\n\"Eighty-five! Beat that, sucker!\"\n\nTed couldn't help but laugh even though Dale had just watched himself die twelve times.\n\n\"Alright, my turn.\"\n\nTed powered on the device and placed it over his eyes. He dialed it forward to the end of his life and it showed him in a car accident at fourty-five.\n\n\"Well, that's no good, what else do we have?\"\n\nHe powered it up again, and dialed forward. This time, the device only showed twelve minutes into the future.\n\n\"What?\" Ted whispered as he kept watching. He saw himself coughing up smoke as his charred body lied on the grass next to his house.\n\n\"This is ridiculous... I'll try again.\"\n\nEleven minutes into the future now, Ted watched himself die in the same manner, moaning on the ground with his skin singed and blistered. \n\n\"What the fuck...Why would I...\"\n\nTed rewinded to the few minutes before his death. He wanted to know exactly what he did to burn to death, and then do the opposite. Ted could see the air waving eerily in front of the stove. A gas leak. His wife Cate, distracted by the baby crying in the next room missed the deadly sign, and when she turned the burner on, the house became engulfed in flames. Thirty seconds, only thirty seconds later Ted saw himself burst through the door, chest heaving out of breath. But it was too late, the house was was a hellish inferno, his wife lay unconscious on the kitchen floor, and his 3 month old daughter was screaming from her high chair in the dining room. Smoke filled the upper half of the room, as he crawled on his hands and knees toward his terrified child. \n\nHe scooped her up and ran out the door, laying her on the cool grass. Her skin was pink, and she was coughing, but she would be okay. Ted took off his coat and wrapped it around his head, in a pitiful attempt to filter some of the smoke out. Rushing back into the blaze, he was hit with a wall of heat and smoke. He could not see his way to the kitchen to find Cate, but he was able to guess well enough. He did not have to have a mirror to know that he no longer had eyebrows. The heat was stifling and his arms were licked by flames as his ran blindly into the room. \n\nHe tripped over Cate's leg as he fumbled his way into the kitchen. Down on the floor on the tile, it was at least fifty degrees cooler, she might make it. Ted grabbed her ankles and dragged her across the house to the door, to keep her from inhaling smoke. The coat Ted wore around his face had fallen at some point, but it was a lost cause. The fire had blistered his eyelids closed. He pulled her until he collapsed on the grass, coughing up smoke.\n\nTed tore off the headset and looked out the window up toward his house, and suddenly a bright orange glow emitted from the kitchen window. \n\n\"Oh God.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] A few people shrieked, two people fell off the bench, one person nearly fainted, half the table gasped, and most of the rest jumped.	[ "\"Now ladies and gentlemen!\" The magician declared, bringing his white gloved hands to a slow stop in front of him, with such a flick of the wrist on his wand hand to suggest the call for their attentiom was more of a spell than a request.\n\nThe room - now a photograph of disarray - simmered down to heed his request; jaws rested rolling on the floor and eyelids clung back to the skulls of their owners, who had all come to the same subconcious conclusion that it is of the greatest importance that, from this point on, they refrain from blinking. The Magician's wire black moustache curled up with his mischevious smile as he traced his wand through the air savouring the silence, which was only broken by the faint dripping of blood falling tentatively off of the end.\n\n\"Ladied and Gentlemen I assure you! That by the grace of my power and magic, the man who see before has felt no pain!\"\n\nHe theatrically throws his hands to the side, thrusting them toward the body of his brave volunteer Jeremy - who's blood has now stopped racing out from his head wound and instead expands slowly in a marvelous puddle toward the feet of the Magicians closest spectator - who is unconcious.\n\n\"You've murdered him!\" A voice cried out from the audience whilst the Magician wiped his wand clean of blood and placed down a small number of towels too comically small to adequately deal with the aftermath of his last trick.\n\n\"Oh? And how did I do that?\"\n\n\"I-\" the challenger gasped for words and turned to the statuesque spectators surrounding him for any support whilst the Magician, content in his mopping, gleefully pulled a bouquet of flowers from his sleeve, presenting them to Jeremy. \"You put that wand against his head and he just died!\"\n\n\"I know wasn't it brilliant?!\"\n\n\"Brilliant? He's dead! One minute he's giggling and waving toward his wife and the next-\"\n\n\"Brilliant!\"\n\n\"It wasn't 'Brilliant', you just put that against his head and it exploded. It was like-\"\n\n\"Magic.\" The Magician said, and the challenger hadn't noticed him glide between the audience to stand before him, his top hat hanging from his hand upturned as he stared intently downward. \"You can give whatever you feel is fair.\"\n\nHis free hand shot behind the challengers ear and returned once more seconds later, a large silver coin sitting between two of his gloved fingers, only to disappear entirely into the of his hat when they let it fall.\n\n\"But I would ask for no coppers.\"", "The restaurant was filled with men and women in clean suits and long dresses, blouses that revealed too much skin and shirts that, had they been any tighter, the buttons would have most definitely found their way across the dining hall and into the depths of a shining wine glass sitting on the many tables amongst the chattering mouths and shrieking utensils. \n\n\"How's your steak?\" Yusef asked his date, a beautiful red-haired woman he'd been dating for seven years. \n\n\"Wonderful,\" she replied. \"Chewy and just right. And yours?\"\n\n\"These lips haven't tasted meat this delicious in all my years,\" the fair-skinned man said with a wet smile on his sweaty face. \"Say, Tori, let's play a simple game, shall we?\"\n\n\"Yusi, over dinner?\"\n\n\"This one will be simple, love. Shall we?\"\n\nShe nodded, taking a sip of the chardonnay. \n\n\"Truth, or dare?\"\n\n\"Yusi, we have been together for ages now.\" She wiped her lips with the napkin. \"What kind of game are you playing here?\"\n\n\"Now, now. You must choose one!\" He stuffed another slice of steak into his mouth, chewing violently with a wide smile. \n\n\"If I must...I'll choose dare.\" \n\nYusef swallowed the meat and threw back the entire glass of wine, pushed his chair out from the table with a quick kick of his heel, and threw the table the to side, as if possessed. \n\nA few of the guests shrieked as the table flew across the dining hall, two women fell out of their chairs and landed on their backsides, an elderly man with thick-framed glasses and fake teeth dropped his head on the table and fainted, and the neighboring diners gasped and jumped. Those who remained seated, unphased by the man's psychotic stunt, focused their attention on Yusef, who was now out of his seat, bending on one knee with a small box in his right hand. \n\n\"Tori Gurid, I dare you to marry me?\"\n\nHer eyes glistened wide with excitement and legs trembled underneath the tight blue dress. \"Yusef! You crazy fool. I'm both embarrassed and entirely shocked.\"\n\n\"Tori!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Yusef. Yes! Yes, I will marry you, you crazy idiot!\"\n\nThose around them, those who weren't sprawled on the ground or faint over their plate of expensive cuisine, cheered and hollered. \n\nYusef rose off his knee and leaned forward, kissing Tori on the lips. \n\n\"Yusef,\" she asked.\n\n\"Mhm?\"\n\n\"What would you have done had I chose the other?\"\n\n\"Tori, oh, Tori.\" He laughed. \"Well for starters, I wouldn't have thrown the table!\"\n\n" ]	2
A friend of mine used this as an interview question, and it became a hotly debated topic amongst his circle of friends - how long will you last?	[WP] In a bare-knuckle, Battle-Royale scenario, how many 12 year old kids can you take down, before they take you down?	[ "They drugged me, stripped me of all but my boxer-briefs, and dumped me unceremoniously into the pit. It was there my awareness returned to me, back-down in the grit and dirt. I remember the sun was fading, off into the distant horizon, and I remember torches- lit by unseen hooded figures, as I struggled to rise.\n\nAs far as I could see, I found myself surrounded by walls of oak. Their trunks were primal, not ever stripped of their bark lined the circular form around me, twenty feet high or more. Within their confines, the sands stunk of iron; iron.. and gore. I felt the vileness sink in-between my toes, and my feet dug into the turf; a price for my first uneasy steps. \n\nA chill fell upon the air, as my posture soon solidified, and I made towards the center of the strange prison. What was this place? Who had brought me here, and for what purpose?\n\nAs though my thoughts had triggered some unseen snare, set only of the mind and mental fortitude- a scream was heard- far across the sands. Its horrible shrill drew my attention, as the oak trunks opened, lifting like a gate to allow a single boy forward, from the darkness beyond them.\n\nI was uncertain of what to do, surely this was one of the most- if not the most bizarre of situations I'd ever found myself in, but then the order came: A booming voice shouting to the heavens and hell below. \n\n\"FIGHT!\"\n\nAt that, the boy came for me. His legs flying forward with unbelievable speeds, his arms whirling in uneducated and irrational attempts to throw himself towards my person. Though comical at first glace, it was also intimidating. Before I had realized enough to stop myself, I found I shifted into the long remembered defensive stance, my hands raised and ready. \n\nIt had been years since I practiced the martial arts, settled in for more mundane methods of exercise- but I had not forgotten everything. Though mountain biking and trail hiking had replaced the prior methods of physical exertions I had once practiced, my muscles had not yet lost all of the long instilled training from years upon years of sparring. I remembered how to fight.\n\nBut was that truly what this was?\n\nThe space between us was closed swiftly as the young boy screamed his unholy battle cry, hands curled like claws ready to strike at me. I understood then, clearly.\n\nIt was either him, or me. There would be no in-between.\n\nMy roundhouse kick, backed by a solid frame of two hundred pounds, shattered the child like glass. I felt things that should not shift, do so en masse. It is only now, that I remember that horror of that attack. I felt it mingle with pity, deep pity, as the boy crumpled to the ground, and my shin felt the sting of recoil. The fresh slap of ribcage, crushed to fragment, that act of brutality that I could not take back.\n\nThe boy tried to rise, and I stepped away- unwilling to deliver the final blow. Violence was for the last resort- defending one's self was its only purpose. I had been taught the way of a peaceful warrior, and the thought sickened me. It was wrong... but the boy, nay- the fiend, struggled towards me. Eyes desperate, body tense, muscles creaking in agony. \n\n\"Kill...\" he whispered, \"Must.... Kill... u/jakethesnakebakecake...\"\n\nAnother scream came across the arena, and I turned to see another young boy charging towards me. This one was fat, panting with every step he took in my direction- but like rolling cloud of pre-pubescent rage, he screamed for my demise.\n\n\"So that's how it is huh?\" \n\nI clicked my tongue in irritation as I surveyed the ground around me. Blood had been spilled here, and it gave off a scent that could only be described as death; rotten and corrupted.\n\nThere was no alternative. I knew then that it had only just begun, that mercy, when found- should be given. To do otherwise, would be to cause suffering.\n\nI turned to the injured boy, and acted. A swift twist of the neck, so quick, so simple. The popping of bone, the tearing of nerves. His body came to rest, still and quiet on the sands, and I came to face my next opponent.\n\nThis was going to be a long, long, night." ]	1
	[WP] In a world where traffic lights flash random colours at random times but everyone still has to obey normal traffic laws, our hero is crossing an intersection.	[ "Nobody's sure what the lights are for or where they come from, but for as long as there've been roads, there have been The Lights. Every culture has a different name for the phenomenon, but anywhere you go on earth, they will look the same. Great spinning discs of rainbow light that fluctuate based on god-knows-what. Above every intersection in the city.\n\nNobody really took note of them until the 1800s, when some scientist decided to try and work out the source of the discs. Since then, nothing's really been found. On occasion, a road gets closed because a disc starts emitting x-rays or microwaves, or the radio gets filled with static because a nearby Light is unstable. But nobody's ever found the source.\n\nI've seen a Light being formed before. It's nothing special: as soon as the first human being uses a new intersection, a faint glow appears overhead and boom, here comes a new disc.\n\nI ignored them as I crossed the street. It was just another day.", "\"All right son, I think your ready. Go ahead and take a right and will head back home.\"\n\nMy nerves were palpable, my sweat visible. But I dare not admit it to David. My first driving lesson was going so smooth and with the exception of parallel parking I felt confident in my ability. But driving on open roads? I didn't even have my permit, I didn't even know if it was legal. But I dare not pass up this chance to prove myself. \n\nI turned out and hummed along the bumpy back road to the west. The sun was setting and had I been the passenger I would have reclined slightly and enjoyed the warm Texas air on my face.\n\nThere were only three intersection between David's office and the house, two had stop signs and one a traffic light. I navigated the stop signs with ease. I stuffed my back, tighten my grip and moved on to the final intersection. \n\n\"Just relax. Nothing to worry about.\" David said, as he patted me on the shoulder. \n\nNothing to worry about?!? Signal intersections were THE only thing to worry about. Ever since that knee jerk reaction from lawmakers to make randomly changing lights to force drivers to pay attention, traffic lights were really the ONLY thing to worry about. \n\nI could see them changing in the distance. Yellow, red, yellow, green, red. Some quick some slow and one lane seemed to be stuck on red. \n\nI slowed my approach and got behind a rather large truck (a safe bet no one would T bone your car) and followed closely behind. Right as he entered, and I began to follow, the green light changed red. I panicked and slammed in the brake. Our heads flew forward and the sounds of horns quickly followed. \n\n\"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.\" I mumbled. \n\nI tried to move forward again but was swiftly cut off from a north bound sports car. I panicked and started jerky movements that inched forward and back trying to free myself from the right intersection. Right when I begin to freeze, I hear the car door close. David had left. \n\n\"FUCK, now what am I supposed to do?\"\n\nAs if in answer to my question, I hear David bellow \"That's enough!\" As he walked across the intersection waving his mammoth hands in the air until the honking ceased and the cars remained still. \n\n\"You. Forward! You wait! You back up!\" David shouted as he directed the cars blocking my path. \n\nOnce my path was clear, he calmly walked back to the truck, sat down and whispered \"your turn\" while motioning forward. \n\nI pulled into the driveway and with a sigh of relief pulled the keys out and handed them to David. \n\n\"You did good bud. Don't let what happened back there get to you, it gets easier with practice.\" \n\n\"Thanks dad.\" \n\nThose words hung in the air for a moment, after all it was the first time I ever called him dad. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "The driver of the vehicle to my right was shielding her eyes against the flashing lights. Said lights were indeed flickering between colors faster than I could remember seeing before. The poor girl, young and innocent-looking, I might add, clearly feared suffering a seizure.\n\nNo one knows what went wrong with the Interlights, as some now call them, but we've tried our best to maintain order despite the issue. Obviously the government is \"working on it\", with their \"best people trying to understand the problem and find a solution\".\n\nI've worked in IT. I know what they really mean.\n\nTo my left, a middle-aged and rushed-looking man in a blue flannel inched bravely a few meters into the intersection. The Interlights shifted to red menacingly.\n\nHe appeared to steel himself and launched forwards, narrowly missing a second car that propelled from the building-obscured right. He safely reached the distant other side and, though I couldn't see his figure, his entire vehicle exhibited a sense of relief.\n\nThe girl to my right whimpered and pouted. She glanced over at me and I nodded knowingly before she patted a restless-looking and more elderly figure in the passenger's seat.\n\nA siren blared. A black form launched from my left, followed by a pursuing vehicle of black and white. And red and blue, reflecting the Interlights that now began to flip-flop between green and orange, as if mimicking the officer.\n\nSuddenly, chaos erupted. The action was enough catalyst to incite pandemonium from all directions as high-speed vehicles rocketed towards the center... all towards the same spot.\n\nMy entire world was consumed by the sound of dozens of horns, all blaring wildly at once. Then, all I heard were metal crunches and the banging clatters of flung pieces of debris.\n\nI dared to peek up at the scene. Wreckage of vehicles and vehicle operators were strewn everywhere, including many hesitant cars still in the lanes on the four sides that were hit when many decided to launch forwards.\n\nI turned off my engine, swung open my car door, and ran out onto the sidewalk. I grabbed the nearest piece of debris and chucked it, hard as I could manage, at the flaring Interlights that appeared to be cackling colorfully in all shades and hues.\n\nMy action spurred a movement in all of the remaining drivers onlooking the wreckage, who almost simultaneously mirrored me. All of a sudden, metal bits were being flung like mad at the Interlights, which began to flicker in an alarmed state in red and orange. One muscular man threw a larger hunk of automobile at the lights, acting as a final effort to tip it over the edge. One light sputtered and burst before the contraption fell to the ground. Soon after, the other three met a similar fate. Looking down the four streets, I could see distant drivers copying our acts of defiance and taking down the Interlights on every road.\n\nOver across the intersection, I noticed some police officers rolling up on motorcycles. Each grabbed a rock and began to throw.\n\nMy smile widened.", "“Say, you want to get coffee? Chinese? Maybe Netflix at my place?” His boots clopped happily on the pavement.\n\nNot on your life, pal. “Um…I’m not so sure that will work for me today,” she smiled broadly. Take the hint and beat it.\n\nPaul (or was his name Ron? Chad? Whatever…) matched the expression, “Oh no problem. How about I get your number and we try some other time.”\n\nHer smile returned, eyes glistening, “Thanks, but I’ve already got a boyfriend.”\n \nPaul’s expression changed from casual to defensive, “Who says you can’t just get coffee with someone? You just seem like an interesting person. I’ll bet a girl like you just plays hard to get to chase away the losers.”\n\nWhat’s with this guy?\n\nAll too consciously, she knew they’d reached the intersection. Stopped. Together. For who knew how long. Why doesn’t somebody do something with these damn street lights? Who runs the city these days anyways, a bunch of twelve-year-olds?\n\nThe streetlights were a disaster. Everybody knew it. Nobody talked about it. There was no rhyme or reason to the “progressive” contraptions. The colors and timing were randomly generated, which “promotes increased driver alertness, thereby decreasing traffic accidents.”\n\nThe silence lingered between them. Paul looked away for a moment, then added, “I’m not a ghost over here, you know. You can’t just ignore me.”\n\nNo, I certainly can’t do that. His bleating continued.\n\nIt was rush hour. The street was busy as ever. She didn’t care.\n\nGod, if you’re there and all, I know I’m not the best all the time. I can’t stand to be by this guy for another second.\n\nHalf closing her eyes, she stepped into the street. The lights stayed the same. Cars zoomed past. \n\nWell...shit. She stepped back onto the curb." ]	4
	[WP] Write the big climactic plot-twist. No context...just the plot-twist.	[ "\"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND\" he screamed. The winds whipped and the clouds had blotted out out the sun. He backed towards the cliff edge, clutching his bag of vital meme crystals. \"You don't have to do this\" I shouted over the howling typhoon. He looked at me in despair and he glanced over the edge: the great ramen sea frothed and foamed, chunks of noodle and onion being dashed against the rocks. \"We can still give the sacrifice, there is still time for Chin Chin to be appeased!\" \"DON'T YOU SEE? IT'S NEVER BEEN ABOUT THE SACRIFICES\". He was surely delusional, after all, it was written many Chromosomes ago that Chin Chin must be appeased by sacrifice. \"IT WAS ABOUT CHEF ALL ALONG\". I dropped to my knees. It couldn't be. Chef had returned", "Her tears disappeared in the rain coursing down her face as she helplessly watched the life drain from his broken body. She could see he was trying desperately to tell her something, and so pulled him nearer to her and listened closely. The words trickled from his lips, barely audible in the storm. \n \n\"Looks like... you're not... adopted... after all...\" \n \nThe chill that ran down her spine had nothing to do with the water soaking through her jacket. Fear and understanding abruptly washed over her sadness, leaving her wide-eyed and trembling. She carefully laid his head on the ground as the last light left his pale eyes. As she slowly stood and turned around she spotted a dark, obscured figure standing in the downpour perhaps thirty yards away. Without another thought, she turned to run.", "“How could you leave me? How could you do this to us?” I shrieked, hands balled into fists, my voice dangerous, annoyed, reeking of all the emotions I had kept bottled up these past few weeks. There he was, and there I was, and I was going to make my stand here, under the softly falling snow, wrapped in a thin sweater, chilled to the bone. \n\n“Please, wait.” He pleaded, his voice broken by a barely held back sob, his hands outstretched, almost begging. He was in a thick jacket, and then hand reaching out to me was wrapped in leather gloves. He had always had the foresight I often lacked. That’s why we had been perfect for each other, we had covered for each other’s mistakes. \n\nTears began to well in my eyes. That’s why when we had split, it had been explosive, fiery, and hurtful. They had known each other’s weaknesses perfectly. “I’ve waited long enough. You left me for too long! This ends now.” \n\nHe lowered his voice, and his voice steadied. The bastard’s mouth twisted into a smile. \n“Yes, it does.” he said, as he suddenly slammed his hand onto a button I hadn’t seen. \n\nSuddenly, fruits came raining hard and fast, dropping on his head and mine. Oranges, cherries, grapes, and our favourite, apples. Falling with the gently snowflakes was a cornucopia of sweet, delicious, ripe fruits. My mouth gaped open. He had saved the village, given back the things that had been stolen away. He had saved her. Everything made sense to me now, all the things that he had done the past few months that hadn’t made any sense at the time. He had done it for her. All of it, for her. \n\nI ran forward and hugged him. Johnny Appleseed had saved Christmas. " ]	3
	[WP] Someone finds their own corpse	[ "I stepped out, dizzy and dehydrated, shielding my eyes from blinding bright lights. My head was spinning like a carousel as I tried to find a place to sit down and re-arrange my senses. A grim looking chair, with metal cuffs on the arms, and an ungodly looking metal thing jutting out from the top had to suffice. I slumped into it, clutching my head, breathing deeply. I didn’t think too much about what the device I sat in was for. I didn’t really think about anything at all, to be honest. It took a minute for me to actually start looking around and start to comprehend my surroundings. White, sterile walls, quiet beeps and whirrs, strange devices strewn about the room, Pieces of paper, with frantically scrawled notes strewn about the tiled floor. \n\nI was in the centre of a genius’s workspace.\n\nRemoving my hand from my head, I stood up, walking around, trying to find some substantial evidence as to why I was here. Something was missing. I felt that if I saw one little bit of information, one tiny thing, I would figure out what was happening. Or, more importantly, who I was. \n\nIt was by this point I realised that I was stark naked, and quickly grabbed a towel hanging off a table on the right side of the room to save my embarrassment.\nAfter I wrapped the towel around my waist, I paused for thought. ‘Why would I be embarrassed? There’s no one here.’\n\nBut, certainly, there was someone here earlier. A cup of coffee, still steaming, sat on the table. A Computer on the opposite side of the room was switched on, prominently displaying a document containing a wall of text. I decided to investigate further. Sitting at the computer, I scrolled through the text, which seemed like a sort of speech that one would present to an audience, and, through the eloquent wordings and descriptions, I figured out two things. One, this room belonged to a scientist. Two, they were on the verge of a breakthrough. This breakthrough in particular interested me, partly due to my curiosity, but mostly due to the way they described it as “The most astonishing breakthrough in scientific history.”\n\nSuffice it to say, I wanted to know what was at work in this den of science. Before I walked back to the table, to take a look at some of the documents, I looked back to where I entered the room, and proceeded to kick myself for not looking before. A giant, steel, behemoth of a machine met my eyes. Two pods, each with a door, were connected to a huge box of blinking buttons and flashing lights. One pod, presumably mine, was already open, with the dark, chrome interior being fully illuminated. The other pod was still closed. \n\nAfter taking my good look at the machine, I turned to the table, picking up a note with copious amounts of equations, underlinings and encircled passages scattered across the page. Not one thing pointed to what the ‘breakthrough’ might be. Page after page, only numbers and calculations met my eyes.\n\nI was on the verge of giving up, until I noticed a whiteboard next to the computer. Two big words made everything very clear.\n“Cloning Experiments.”\n\nAnd there it was. There was the answer I was looking for. I, or should I say, they, had managed to clone themselves, and I was the result. Scientific breakthrough indeed!\n\nI looked back at the great machine. The second pod was still closed. Jogging towards it, I smiled, gripping the handle, and pulling open the door, readying myself to greet whomever was inside. \n\nDead, empty sockets. Grey, peeling skin. Thin, loose hair. \n\nI was dead. \n\nI’d failed miserably.\n", "It didnt feel like me. I stared into those lifeless eyes and looked with contempt the wrinkled, dry body, and saw something. I knew it was me, although I hated that it was. The hair was grey and long. The only question in my mind when I saw me was, was I really that old?\n\nSeeing myself dead made me think. I thought back on my life, and reminded myself of all my deeds, good and bad. I reminded myself of my first love, the way her eyes lit up, and starting into them warmed my heart. I reminded myself of the time I graduated, watching the pride on my fathers face, flood over him like the ocean tide. I recalled going on vacation with my closest friends, and spending the warm summer nights out in the open, gazing at the stars. And as I recalled this, it was almost as if my body before me slowly returned to life.\n\nBut it was many years ago. The bitter thought stood out among the otherwise joyful mess in my head. And slowly, the small bit of life that I had seen, faded again. It was so long ago since I even spoke to my friends. My parents were long gone from this world. Suddenly, these happy memories didnt feel as happy. They reminded me of all that I had once had, all that I've since lost.\n\nI am alone!\n\nI didn't like the way my body stared back at me. Every second I looked into those faded eyes were filled with grief. I took it out to my backyard and had it burried.\n\nNow I lay here in the cold, dark place that is my property, and I wait. I wait for the hunger and thirst to consume me, and take the last bit of pain away. After all, all I saw in the mirror was my own corpse, although I didn't want to recognize it. Untill I did.", "Yesterday was my graduation, the day where all of my life finally comes together and everything starts to make sense.\nAll of my friends and acquaintances went there own way.\nEverything moved so fast.\nsix months came and passed.\nPathetic.\nI mean i knew that I didn't have a plan.\nI usually didn't need one.\nI can see all of my friends moving on, and they're just as lost as me\nIt seems like everyday since graduation, I've let more and more of my self fade with their memories.\nInitiative finally set itself ablaze in my heart, knowing who I was again I could once again give myself to art.\nAs I wrote my final goodbye, I looked in the mirror and saw my corpse leaving me behind.\n", "Darkness. Pain in the lower back. A faint electric humming. Then, that dark reddish nothingness which you see when you close your eyes.\n\n“Canmmm you heaar me? Wakeywakey.”\n\nThe eyelids are stuck together. Everything’s numb. Something’s missing.\n\n“Can you please move your eyes to the left to indicate that you can understand my voice?” You move your eyes to the left. “Alright, that‘s an audio-visual confirmation of success. Sew, can you read me the …” The Audio breaks off. Something’s missing.\n\nYou remember how you left your house in the morning, just a little too late. It’s the holidays, they always make you feel a slight depression when you have to go back to the regular day-to-day. The depression in turn, makes you hit your snooze button a bit more often, leading to the situation where you bust out your front door in a rush, crossing the street without looking left or right. Was that it? No. You remember getting home after work. Relaxing for a few hours with the VR, hitting the sack early, and plugging in the ConsBU system.\n\nA sharp pain in the back of your neck disturbs your train of thought. It makes you clinch your fist and contract your leg muscles. The numbness is gone. Something’s still missing.\n\nYou hear a door open and close. Someone is in the room. You pry your eyes open. You get blinded. It hurts. You close them again.\n\n„Hehe, yes that still hurts, doesn’t it? Let me give you something for that.” You feel fingers touching your face. Your left eye gets opened forcefully and something cold drops on it. You close your left eye. The fingers open the right eye, repeat the procedure. You feel a tear running down your cheek. “Just keep them closed for 30 seconds, it will contract your pupils.“\n\nYou feel a warm rush stream through your body, making everything feel like soft pillows. “It’s possible you feel some pain. Your new host has had some damages. We don’t exactly know what has happened to it. Had to implement a synthetic pulse-less heart. In fact, we don’t even know its original owner. Uh sorry, I’m not supposed to say host. Body I mean. New regulations, helps customers, uh patients, to identify with their new body more quickly.“\n\nYou blink. Your eyes are watery. The room is bright, sterile, and very blurry. You cannot make out any details. You blink. You recognize the ConsBU doctor standing to your left. „Well, well, we have a quick one here. So, let me show you your new face, hehe.” The doctor grabs a mirror, holds it in front of your face. You blink again. You stare into your own eyes.\n" ]	4
(Or "him")	[WP] "I can bring her back… for a price."	[ "I felt the car collide with me before I ever saw the headlights. Glass shattered from my right as metal bent and twisted with every tumble we took down the grassy knoll. We landed right side up, the interior a shining mixture of glass and blood. \n\nMary's eyes were locked on to me from the passenger seat, and I could just barely see the wedge of the window shrapnel sticking out from her neck. A dark red streak ran down her throat, across her seatbelt, and onto her faded blue jeans. \n\nI scrambled to unbuckle. \n\n\"No. No! Hey, hey, hey. Mary! MARY! No God no!\" I cried out in anguish. I felt her neck for a pulse, trying to ignore the sticky substance that now painted my hands. There. It was faint, but there was a pulse. \n\nFumbling, I felt for the keys and tried to turn the ignition over, my only thoughts on a hospital, but it wouldn't start. Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing.\n\nThe light from the other vehicle shone over the crest of the hill. I quickly ran up the hill, looking for the driver. He was in his car, his neck bent backwards by the force of the blow, yet still alive. I knew what I had to do. As fast as I could, I raced to my car, gently pulled Mary out, and went back to the other driver. Laying Mary in the back seat, I took off my shirt and wrapped it around her neck, hoping to stop the bleeding. I knew I shouldn't move the driver, but I had to get help. I moved him to the passenger seat, and commandeered his vehicle. The first house, I told myself. That's where we would call for an ambulance.\n\nDown the dark country road we drove, and I scanned left and right, looking for anyone, anything that might help. Finally we came upon an old house, Victorian in appearance. As I ran to the door, the porch light came on. An older man stepped out, maybe 60 in age. His frizzled black hair, with the softest streak of grey, looked like he just got out of bed, but his attentive stare from behind his thick framed glasses indicated he was wide awake.\n\n\"Who is there?\" His accent was different, maybe slightly Germanic?\n\n\"Please, I need help. I have two gravely injured people in my car and th-\"\n\n\"Quickly, bring them inside! I will go get my medical bag!\" He shuffled away, leaving the door wide open. I carried Mary in first, leaving her on the red floral couch of the living room covered in my jacket, and brought back the other driver and laid him on the thick wooly rug that covered the dusty hardwood floor.\n\n\"How long have they been injured?\" The old man's voice beside me made me jump. He was peering at them as he put on gloves.\n\n\"Um maybe 15 minutes? Twenty?\"\n\n\"Uh-huh, let me see...\" He surveyed them both, poking here and there, taking readings of vitals, and examining wounds. Finally, he looked up at me.\n\n\"Which one is yours?\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"They are both not with you. Which one is yours?\"\n\nI pointed to Mary. \n\n\"Her,\" I said.\n\n\"Well,\" the man began, wiping sweat from his brow. \"I can only save one of them in the time I have. They are both so close to death.\"\n\n\"I have to choose? What the hell man...\"\n\n\"If you do not choose, they both die.\"\n\n\"Well...\" I glanced at the driver. \"Who has a better chance?\"\n\n\"The girl.\" The old man replied almost instantly. He then stopped and pondered a moment. \"Yes, the girl has a better chance.\"\n\nSilence hung in the air.\n\n\"Then save her.\"\n\n\"Of course. Now, I can bring her back...for a price.\" He was now looking directly in my eyes.\n\n\"A p-price?\" I stammered. Money was tight, but Mary was worth every penny in the world to me.\n\n\"Yes. No, not money. I want something.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"That man's body,\" he declared, pointing a thin finger at the other driver.\n\n\"What the fuck? Are you crazy?\"\n\n\"No boy, I am not crazy!\" The old man grabbed my shirt. \"He will die regardless, and if you want the girl saved, you must let me have his body and tell no one.\"\n\nI looked at him, then at the driver, then at Mary. I nodded, knowing this secret would never be revealed.\n\nThe old man released me as soon as I gave consent, then took the other man from the floor, down the hall, and descended in to the basement with him. He came back up with several bags of blood.\n\n\"Which is her type?\"\n\n\"A positive, I think.\"\n\nHe worked feverishly, removing all the glass, stitching her up, and pumping new blood in to her. His eyes would frequently avert to the cellar door, but his hands never left her wounds. I watched from the doorway as he worked, praying she would live.\n\nAfter a while, he called me over. I cautiously approached her.\n\n\"She is well. Her pulse is steadily increasing. Be cautious when moving her.\" He got up and walked to the doorway. \"You are done. I must now ask you to leave while I clean up.\" \n\nI picked up Mary, expressing my thanks, but he waved me off. I took her to the car, and I heard her gently exhale. After I placed her in the car, but couldn't find my jacket. I searched all over, but it wasn't in the vehicle. An image came to mind of Mary on that floral couch, covered in my jacket. \n\nI raced back inside, but the jacket wasn't where she once laid. I looked in the foyer, the kitchen, and the bathroom, but it wasn't there either. I ran up the stairs, checking every room and closet, but I didn't see it. Nor did I see the old man. Then I heard him. The old man screamed from the basement.\n\nI ran down the stairs, wrenched open the cellar door, and flew down the steps. I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight that came before me. The other driver lay on the floor in a pool of blood, he chest ripped open, ribs sticking up with violent edges. The old man sat in a high swivel chair with a spool of thread behind him on a desk, which was otherwise covered in old faded pictures of military buildings, hospitals, and tanks. In his hands was a faintly pulsing heart. The old man turned a bit, and in the dim candlelight I could see his body was covered in crude stitches. Multiple incision marks left deep white scars on his body. I watched in horror as he cut his body open, removed two of his own ribs, and placed the other driver's heart in to his aged body. I gagged, and the sound of my repulsion got his attention.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" He stood up, and I could see my jacket on the back of his chair. \"You must not be here! You cannot leave this place alive!\" \n\nThe old man came after me, his chest still open, with a bloody scalpel in his hand. I turned and flew up the stairs, slamming the door behind me, and locking it. His hands pounded on the door, his voice called out to me, but I knew I had to call the cops. I recalled the phone upstairs, and ran to it.\n\nAs I entered the bedroom and grabbed the receiver, I stopped and looked around. The same dusty, faded pictures lined the walls. Picture of a man with dark hair and glasses in a lab coat, working on patients. No...not working. Torturing. He held scalpels in some pictures, battery leads in others. All of the patients were crying out in pain. Every picture in that room told a different story, yet all the same. Finally, I came to a dresser. I pulled open the drawers to see medals and ribbons in the top most. The second of the three drawers contained a neatly folded coat. I pulled it out, and saw the Nazi emblem sewn on to the sleeve. Throwing it aside in disgust, I pulled open the last drawer.\n\nIt contained a folder and a box. I opened the folder first, and read the files. They told of experiments done by the Nazis in the 40's, of torture and dissection. The old man was a lead scientist, trying to discover ways to prolong life. Ignoring the pounding from the cellar, I read on. The Nazis had developed a way to harvest organs from the nearly dead to help prolong the life of an individual. The only flaw was that the organs would not last as long in a new host body, and had to be replaced every few years. The last document in the folder was a list of dates, many of them more recent. \n\n3 Jan 1995, one man, liver \n29 Dec 1997, one woman, heart \n18 Nov 2001, one man, eyeballs, one woman, one kidney \n9 April 2008, one man, heart \n21 May, 2009, one man, heart\n\nI threw the folder aside and opened the box. In it was a gun. I took it and checked the magazine. Two rounds. The pounding from the basement grew louder.\n\nI calmly walked down the steps. I grabbed the handle and the pounding stopped. I racked the slide. Unlocked the door. \n\nI aimed the gun and pulled the trigger twice.", "“So will you do it?”\n\n“I can bring her back….for a price” he was saddened by this “You will need to do as I say”\n\n“Okay, but promise me you will bring her back” said his friend strung out of his mind on a cocktail of drugs that would have killed anyone else.\n\n“Tom, listen to me. This is serious; you can’t keep doing this. You’ll kill yourself” Tom used to be so bright and cheerful, but nowadays he was a shadow of who he used to be.\n\n“No….No….” Tom was trying to get up off the floor of the washroom, holding onto the toilet for support he slipped on the tile and fell down again “Uhg…I need to see her again” he heaved into the toilet bowl.\n\nThe room was empty, but the sound from the music that the band played vibrated off the walls and made a dull throbbing against his skull. He took a step back and looked down at his friend ‘Maybe I should call Jen’ he decided against it. Talking to Tom’s ex-wife will only make the situation worse.\n\nTom leaned against the stall and was staring off into the distance. His face blank, “I know that you can’t do anything to bring her back Ray” he said it as more of a statement. \n\n“Actually there is something I can do” I don’t think he’ll forgive me for this, but it needs to be done “You know for that I’ll need you to lay low for a while, if the guys who took her knew that you sent someone after them they’ll come after you too”\n\nTom looked up now, his face had a tiny bit of hope on it. “What? You can?” he got up off the floor, steadying himself using the door.\n\n“Yeah. Come on.” Leading the way out to the car through the hordes of people in the bar, everyone moved out of their way for the huge guy and his friend. Paying Toms’ tab and apologizing to the barkeep on his behalf he led the both of them out to his car.\n\n“Leave your car. I’ll take you to the safe house” Tom stayed silent the whole drive. And when the car finally stopped he looked outside at the two men waiting outside the car.\n\n“Who are they?” Tom questioned, still disoriented from his high.\n\n“Friends. They’ll keep you company till I return with Sarah” getting out of the car and walking to the other side, opening the door to pull Tom out, “take care of him, he’s a good guy” he spoke to the two men behind him. They only nodded, having seen their fair share of good guys who fell on hard times.\n\n“So when will you be back with Sarah! I just can’t wait to see my baby again!” a sudden burst of excitement from Tom, “tell her I miss her a lot and that I’ll see her soon, okay?”\n\n“Yeah, I’m sure she misses her daddy too” this is bad. We can never go back to being friends whichever way this turns out. “Now remember you cannot leave this place until I’m back, okay?”\n\n“Wait…isn’t this….” Tom had turned around to look at the tall building of the Midtown Veterans Rehab and Counseling Centre “Ray….is this place really secure?”\n\n“It is very secure. Guards around the clock and they have a pool too” he could not look him the eye “I’m off. Don’t cause too much trouble”\n\nHe got into his car and waved to Tom who did not wave back. His mind went back to the good times. The barbeque where all their friends met and the kids played around. The whole team used to be there, a break away from when they were behind enemy lines risking their lives.\n\nHe thought back to when Sarah first fell sick, Tom took time off because he could not focus on the job with what was happening back home. The whole team had shown up for the funeral, and that was when they knew Tom was lost. His mind could not comprehend the fact that there was nothing he could do to save Sarah from cancer and instead his mind constructed the story of her being taken by the enemy. He had tried going hunting for these people and this was when his wife left him.\n\nTom was a good soldier, he believed he was saving people by shooting the problem, but he could not save Sarah. It was too much for him to handle.\n\n\nTom looked on as Ray drove off.\n“Sir, we need to go inside” the man to his right spoke.\nHe exhaled deeply ‘Yeah….lets go’\n", "Finally.\n\nAfter hours of searching the barren desert, I had finally found that rusty old tavern. The night was dark and full of dust, but a neon sign hung over the tavern's doors, that read \"Mia's Pub.\" I hadn't seen lights like that in years. In the first few weeks since God had forsaken us, most of the world's power went dry. \n\nBut never mind that. I brought my car to a stop and checked the backseat. She still lay there, as if she were asleep. There was still enough time to restore her. I grabbed my two pistols from the passenger seat, gave her a good luck pat, and stepped out of the car.\n\n\"Hey, you ain't supposed to be here--\" one of the goons by the door started. But he didn't have time to finish before I blasted him to hell with my .45. Two more cronies stepped out, but hadn't had time to think before they, too, met their end. \n\nI busted through the doors. Three men stood near a table in the back. The drew their guns. Fuck. I fell to the floor, and crawled beneath a table, narrowly avoiding the barrage of bullets. After a moment or two, I hopped back up and popped two of the men. But the other one was too quick--he nabbed me right in the shoulder. \"Asshole!\" I screamed. I fell back beneath the table. More bullets careened over head. \n\n\"Don't just stand there, go over and kill him!\" A raspy voice demanded. \n\n\"Yes sir,\" the henchman said. Footsteps slowly approached my hiding spot underneath the rear table. Fuck this guy. With every bit of energy I could muster, I grabbed the table with my good arm and flipped myself over to the other side. The goon had no idea what just happened. Before he could aim his gun I capped him straight between the eyes. His body fell to the floor with a satisfying thud.\n\n\"Well. Good job.\" The raspy voice came from across the bar. An old man, hunched over, slowly stood up from his seat. \"I suppose I'm the man you're looking for?\"\n\nMortimer. \"Yeah,\" I said. I pointed my gun at him. \"I have a. . . favor to request of you.\"\n\nMortimer laughed. \"After you killed six of my men? And have a gun pointed at my face? Why would I want to help you?\" \n\n\"Because if you don't, I'll kill you.\"\n\nMortimer's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of rage. He raised an arm and the pistol flew out of my hand. \"Don't make me laugh, boy\", he said, with disgust dripping out of each word. \"I know you're here to save that girlfriend of yours in your backseat. What kind of witch doctor do you take me for? I could have killed you five miles ago with a strike of lightning.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you?\"\n\n\"Because I enjoy moments like these, where I get to look a son of a bitch in the eye and tell him just how fucking insignificant he is.\" He walked towards me. As his face came out of the shadows, horrible mutilations revealed themselves. This \"man\" wasn't a man at all, but a monster.\n\n\"I know your type,\" Mortimer continued. \"You act like you're some hero of the wasteland, coming to kill all the 'bad guys.' But you're just as evil and selfish as me.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I will always stand above you and your men.\" \n\n\"Fine then.\" A sly smile formed on Mortimer's broken face. \"You want me to bring her back? I can. For a price.\"\n\n\"NO!\" I shouted. \"There should be no price! It was your kind that killed her--\"\n\n\"There is always a price!\" he shouted back. His voice was much stronger than mine, and it reverberated throughout the tavern for what felt like minutes. \"I will bring her back. But my stipulation is this: you can never see her. You can never touch her. You can never even know of her. You'll have to forget that she ever existed. But she will live.\"\n\nI didn't even think about it. \"No.\" I said. \n\nMortimer laughed. \"Exactly. You don't care about her. You only care about you. You want her back. You want to be with her. Look around here, boy. This place, this world, is Hell! And Hell ain't no place for a pretty lady.\" Silence filled the room for several moments. \"I think I'll kill you now.\" \n\nBefore Mortimer moved a muscle, I pulled my second pistol out from the holster on my back. \"Predict this, bitch!\" I screamed as I unloaded six shots into his crumbled face. His body fell to the tavern floor. \n \nI guess I'll find another witch doctor. I kicked open the tavern doors and climbed back into my car. I started the engine and headed back down the way I came. \n\nMaybe Mortimer was right. Maybe I am a selfish asshole. But this world was Hell. And Anabelle--she made it Heaven. \n\n\n ", "The bar was the kind of place he'd have walked straight past, don't turn your head, don't look at the drunks lying in the gutter outside fumbling for change that would be turned into beer that would be turned into piss. This side of the town, the lawkeepers stopped trying. Let them fight. Let them bleed away and maybe then the lawkeepers would come in from the sides.\n\nThe bar had been built with a view over the new sorghum fields the colonists had first planted when they landed on this little rock. Now it looked out over a brothel. Dirt gave way to filth. Dionise could feel the eyes watching him from the alleys where the glowlamps didn't quite reach.\n\nThe door to the bar cracked open, one more drunkard spilling out into the night amidst a sliver of light and Di jumped, following the door before it could shut out his thoughts of just walking on.\n\n\"You got money?\" the bartender called the moment Di stepped over the threshold. Di just nodded dumbly.\n\nThe place smelt of mildew and pine, the byproducts of whatever particular flavour of whiskey they were distilling in this place, and it had leached into every surface. Di asked for a beer and rubbed at the rim before taking a swig.\n\n\"I'm looking for Rota,\" he tried to say quietly, leaning across the bar but only succeeding in feeling the bare flesh of his arms stick to the wood.\n\n\"Rota don't like to be disturbed. Least of all by a spaceboy like you.\"\n\n\"I can pay.\"\n\n\"An oct.\"\n\nEight chits was over a weeks worth of rations and a large portion of Di's remaining cash. He pulled out his card, spun through the digits and flipped the barman his fee. The barman just looked at his display. Transferred.\n\n\"That's your man,\" he finally said, jerking a thumb towards the back corner. Di went to move but the barman grabbed his wrist, slick with sweat. \"Word of advice spaceboy, don't pay what you can't afford.\"\n\nThe glowlamp above the last table was dying, the lights inside moving lethargically. It looked like malnutrition and for one moment Di considered asking the barman for some ammonia and a funnel.\n\n\"Sit,\" the voice said, breaking Di out of his thoughts.\n\n\"I can fix your lamp.\"\n\n\"What makes you think it's broken?\"\n\n\"It's dying.\"\n\n\"Sometimes a thing dying doesn't mean it's broken.\"\n\nThe man lit up a cigarette. The old kind, leaves wrapped in paper, and took a long drag, the small tip glowing briefly in the gloom. He tapped the ash, collecting a little pile in the centre of the table.\n\n\"Start at the beginning,\" the man said.\n\n\"My daughter, Kay. She joined the Navy, pay for school and all that, I don't make much since her mother...\" Di skipped the backstory. \"She finished basic, top of her class my girl, and got put on a cutter. The Melville. Three year out-and-back round the Cambridge worlds. Sent me packets every month.\"\n\nDi stopped, took a breath of the smoke-filled air and found his lungs clutching. This world was trying to kill him, but nothing hurt as much as thinking about his baby girl. The man didn't move. The ash collected on his cigarette, growing towards his fingers like a cancer.\n\n\"The xo sent the notification. Single-way vid. 'Your daughter was killed in a tragic accident during a routine training exercise.' Nothing. Not even his condolences.\"\n\n\"Sounds like exactly what it is.\"\n\nDi took a swig from his drink, letting the courage bubble forth before putting a stripscreen on the table and hitting play. The video was grainy, the image compressed into two dimensions to show a dirt-streaked face with the same features as her father.\n\n\"Dad, I hope you get this. I can't tell you where I am. They're looking for me. The whole damn fleet. I need you to do something Dad. I need you to find...\"\n\nThe video cut out in a garble of static. A constellation of stars flashed across the screen before the screen faded to nothingness, the chipped wooden table showing through.\n\n\"I got that three weeks after she died. Timestamp said it was sent that day. I had a friend run the stars through some stellar maps. She sent this from Pyre.\"\n\n\"Bullshit,\" the man said, replaying the video, only this time muting the sound. He watched the girl speak, the fear in her eyes. She turned her head to look off screen, some nasty plasma scarring stretching across her neck. And there they were again. The stars. Pyre's sky.\n\n\"You've been there,\" Di said, tapping a finger against the back of the screen. \"You fought on Pyre.\"\n\n\"It's a barren world. If your daughter is there, she's already dead.\"\n\n\"Not Kay. Not my girl. She's too smart for that.\"\n\nThe man stopped at a timecode, looking in her eyes. Fear. Tiredness. But anger, righteousness burning brightly behind it all. She'd found something. Something worth dying for.\n\n\"I can bring her back,\" he said. He stubbed the cigarette out into the table, the last ambers flaring and dying. \"For a price.\"\n\n\"Anything.\"\n\n\"Good. You'll need that desperation,\" he said.", "\"I can bring her back... For a price.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course. You'll get your filthy credits.\"\n\n\"Naah... Credits...\" said the hooded man, \"...Credits won't do.\"\n\n\"You're one peculiar fella, ain't ya? Ain't heard no one refusing this here card, worth a million creds.\"\n\n\"...as I said, credits are not enough. I need something else...\"\n\nHis broken voice started to sound more and more serious. I expected him to be the same bounty hunter trash, scrounging the Quadrant for a hundred creds, willing to crawl in the swamps of Vela Alpha for some renown. \n\nHe wasn't. As he was wandering around my small, round office, carefully observing my diplomas, he suddenly spoke. \n\n\"Zwiling Weintraub. Army veteran. I'm sure you have something of value for me...\"\n\n\"What? Land? I got plenty of it, across so many planets. I can hook you up with...\"\n\n\"Not land, you moron! sighhhh Here. Read my work contract. Payment is specified.\"\n\nHe pulled a yellow, old paper, slightly burned on the sides. He carefully unfolded the corners. He handed me the paper. The terms and conditions, including the payment. He wanted my soul if I wanted him to bring her back. \n\n\"Well...? Are you content?\"\n\n\"Why would you need my soul for a simple recovery job?\"\n\n\"Because, you see, it's not as simple as you think... Your daughter is very evasive.\"\n\n\"H-How do you know I called you to retrieve my daughter?\"\n\n\"I have, friends in very, very high places.\"\n\nMy initial feeling of repulsion for that man quickly turned into fear and uncertainty. My daughter fled, going God knows where. I needed the best of the best to find her and bring her back to safety. For 5 years so many failed. I had a feeling he would succeed.\n\nNow, how he knew about Lily, I still don't know. He did freak me out though. I was going to laugh. I was going to call him a shithead and kick him out of my office. But, I didn't. I somehow knew he was serious. So I played along. \n\n\"Okay. Where do I sign?\"\n\n\"Here. With red ink, please.\"\n\n\"Uhuh. Here. I trust you'll find her and bring her back, yes?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nThat grin is something I'll never forget. His perfectly white teeth being the only things visible in the darkness that was cast over his face by that hood of his. \n\nBut, he did his job. She is here now, safe and sound. And I'm glad. Not only because she's here, but because he basically did it for free. \n\n&nbsp; \n\n\nI didn't gave him anything because I didn't have anything. \n\n\n\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] A large meteorite falls in the middle of the ocean causing little damage but creating a whole new set of islands. You are sent there as part of the exploration team. When you arrive, you cannot believe your eyes.	[ "This is my chance. Out of all the journalists in the world, I was one of the chosen to participate in the exploration of the Delta Archipelago. I can finally get my name out there. James Carter, documenter of the unexplored. First. Contact. Cheesy, I know, but it still sounds awesome, it's like being a real-life Indiana Jones. I can see the islands just up ahead; I can see awesome. The whirring of the blades could not contain the beat of my heart - all I feel is pure excitement. \n\n\"We are about to approach Delta, please prepare for drop off.\" I heard through my headset. I was already trying to get my seatbelt off.\n\n\"Whoa there. Hold your horses.\" Sergeant Reynolds grasped me on the shoulder. \"We don't want you causing a fatality report this early, do we?\" He wasn't joking. I could feel his eyes pierce me even behind those aviators.\n\nWe circled the drop zone and prepared for exit. I could already feel the adrenaline; not only was this my shot at the big-leagues, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. When the 75 islands emerged, satellite imagery showed that they had formed a 'cross' shape and that there were distinct 'monoliths' made of pure diamonds in the centre of each island. Right in the centre. This was more than weird; this could not occur naturally no matter how you slice it. Even weirder... during further analysis of infra-red, x-rays, sound wave - the whole shebang - they concluded that there were life signals within the 'monoliths' of diamond. And now I was going to see them. Aliens.\n\nOur team was the first to arrive to the archipelago, choosing the central Island within the archipelago as our destination. Each Island was around 100 kilometres squared but the terrain made it possible to land right next to the monoliths. We were told that this event would not go all 'Independence Day' on us, that the monoliths were safe and that the probabilities that any life encountered would be dormant are high. Some part of me wishes that probability was much lower. Exiting the helicopter, I could see how truly 'special' the people I accompanied are: you could tell the scientists a mile away from their notepads and hilariously huge bags for equipment, the military officials were obvious as they always wore their esteemed uniforms and the special ops guys even more so - all clad in black and decked out in enough firepower to kill a small island. The monolith calls and I'm ready to answer. \n\nLooking at it closely it truly is an imposing figure... It almost calls to you, asking you to hold it. It almost feels like it's coming closer to you the more you look at it-\n\n\"Son! You better stop moving.\" I could hear the Sergeant whisper from the back of my head. \n\n\"Sir, his movements are odd, should we open fire?\" The voices are getting quieter. The monolith is unbelievable. It's so pristine, clean cut, after hurtling through space and crashing through here it's still as clear as air... Clear? There was something inside of it. A shadow?\n\n\"Open fire? No. That's excessive, grab him before he does someth...\"\n\nIt's not a shadow. It's... a person. Oh my God. I finally shake from the trance. I'd manage to walk 30m in a few seconds. Did I walk? I could feel sweat dripping over my face, did I run? I look around me and everyone is standing frozen with jaws agape. The monolith changed from a transluscent teal to a transparent pillar - and it glowed - it clearly showed the life within it. \n\nI had only heard about them in ancient history books, myths and legends. Females. They're real. They're back.", "First writing prompt ever, be gentle and any help would be appreciated, thanks :)\n\nThis is impressive, I mean, I tough there would be war over this island when the news showed up on television. A meteorite the size of New-York landing on earth... and by landing I mean arriving gently in the ocean, not blowing the giant ball of turd we live on like we believed it would. Every nation would want to see if there is oil or diamond or what so ever on this freaking thing that they could abuse. I didn't understand why of all the brilliant scientist, two pig faced agent would knock at my shitty apartment door and ask me... depressed... incapable me of doing anything worth something on the biggest even in history since...well... I don't know, I'm not very good at history, hell, am I good at anything at all? Anyway, here I am, on this strange, very PINK rock. It smell good in here and it's sunny too. The air is fresh and everybody is smiling while working. After all, maybe this place will do me good, you know, have something make me forget about those...bad, bad ideas that were coming to my mind. As they give me my 'working suit' suit which are actually a pair of short and a t-shirt they show me the flower they want me to pick up. ''Don't be afraid to touch them, or the ground, or anything in here Mr. Fadon, everything here has been tested and nothing is harmful, we will leave you with the other gardeners, a young gentleman like yourself should do a great addition to our team!''.\n\nWait, there is flower on this meteorite, already? How could this grow up so fast, what are those, why should I pick them up? Before any questions could be answered, I find myself already on my knees picking up pink flower with pink stem and pink petal. I don't really care how they could grow so fast or why we pick them, I am just lucky to be here and it's a beautiful day, the first day of a new life it seems.\n\nAs the beautiful sun is disappearing in the horizon, so are the pretty flowers. They seem to shrink gradually inside this pink, soft rock as if they are afraid of the coming moon. Everybody get up in a strange, semi coordinated way and head to some a giant white tent to sleep. It is quite strange how they gave me near zero order except to ''pick up flower''. I start wondering again how could any form of life grow so fast on this. Why is it pink? Why do we pick them up? Do I take any bed I want in this giant tent or is there one assigned for me? No one told me jack squat and I deserve some answers. That's when I grab the first guy that encounter my line of sight to get some fact about this whole mess.\n\n''Hey, you, nobody told me what is happening here, I don't even know where I am supposed to sleep could you lend me a hand, any directions?'' The guy look at me with the biggest lack of interest a pothead could demonstrate and answer ''Just take a bed man, the pillows are comfortable''. Completely discouraged by the only human interaction I had all day in this over spoiled princess colored 'fairy tale', my best move can only be to try and talk to someone who actually seems to know a damn thing about this place tomorrow, the manager of this place is going to have to answer to some questions tomorrow, as long as it is not another freaking bureaucrat who won't give a damn. As my head touch the pillow there is this strange smell, a very familiar one, wow, this bed is better than laying down on a cloud.\n\nIt is strange how I could think this bed was anything other than a sheet of sandpaper filled with crap last night. The pillow AND the bed make so much noise as soon as my body dare to move... It is like laying on bag of dead leaf. That's it, I demand answers and I won't be doing this another day until someone explain to me at least what the hell we are doing here...And I am hungry...\n\nAfter they gave us a nice petal salad of this stuff we pick, the questions I had in mind seemed not that important. I can be such a pain when I am hungry. Time for the second best day of my life!\n\nAs I bend over to pick up another row of flower there is a strange sensation in my lower back...I can't get up. It is not long before two medic show up and take me to another tent with a red cross on it. They lay me on a table, the doctor arrive and it doesn't take him two minute before announcing me that my back is used up for good. I wasn't there for very long, how could I use my back so fast? This is bullshit they should have given me some knee pad so i could have a better posture and...and why was I picking up these damn thing in the first place?!? As I ask the doctor how I could use my back so fast and telling him this was this place's fault he look at me with a smile and says '' This is perfectly normal for a man of your age to start getting some tinny trouble here and there''. ''WHAT DO YOU MEAN A MAN OF MY AGE!?!?''. As I get up even if my own back send me signal of pain that would usually put me down on my knees, I see myself in the reflection of an surgical plate. The only shining object I saw in a while now that I think about it and...god...I'm... I'm so old... WHAT AM I, 60?!? As I feel rage and incomprehension fill my whole body up, the doctor look at me and tell me with a calm smile ''Here Mr. Fadon, take this flower and breath, it will calm you down, we will talk after''. While taking a sniff of the beautiful flower, the doctor ask me if I am ready to talk about it.\n\n''Now that I think about it, I don't really need to. I guess back pain is just part of aging''. This doctor seems like a nice guy...", "Once the event occurred I knew I would be one of the first ones to investigate the new islands, we were called almost immediately. I've never been scared during a mission throughout my fifteen years with the CDC, this mission was different. This time I am truly scared, and this worries me. On the ride over to the site everything seemed different, and I had a feeling nothing would ever be the same again. Once we were two hundred yards away from the site I made a terrifying discovery, these were not islands.", "As we got closer to the islands we notice the damaged created an even larger island within the smaller ones, however, this one appeared to be floating in the air, the crew is stunned and in complete shock. We managed to get closer and found a dirt hole to climb into.\n\nOnly 7 of the 24 exploration team members go in (I included). We dig ourselves upward and make its grounds on top. An hour walking around we feel a shake in the ground, the shake gets stronger with every new rattle on the earth. We hear trees moving and breaking, birds scattering, we sense something is coming straight for us. We hear a loud thunderous roar as if a pack of lions were only feets away, we immediately started running back to the dirt hole we climbed out of. I look behind me to get a glimpse, but I foolishly tripped on a small branch, I tried to hide behind a tree, but it was too late, the creature was near, too near to make any sudden move. It came out of the trees, and what I witnessed was unreal and not human........what it was could just be the world's largest Hamster eating a very large tree, staring down on me with its large pitch-dark eyes. Minutes later it looks around and walks away, I laid lying there and past out. Hours later I woke in our ship, patched and somewhat sore, I had the entire crew in my room, they asked the obvious of course \"What did you see?\", I replied only with\n\n\"Something.......cute.\"" ]	4
	[WP] After making a grand entrance onto the galactic stage, Humanity is embarrassed to find that Sol is well known amongst the other races as part of a constellation. Humanity lives on the tip of a giant celestial cock.	[ "Sonnet Number Seven\n\nThe warrior constellation guards the weak. \nThe priests of connect-the-dot stars rehearse \nA list of great and powerful gods that streak \nThe sky, the same across the universe. \n\nThe trickster god holds in his hands a staff \nThat coils at the ends in two snake heads. \nThe universal sky's a cosmic fact, \nAs Microwave Background distorts and bends.\n\nThen, there's the satyr god with two goat horns \nA dancing figure with a joyful face, \nAstonishes shy beauties as he turns, \nWith the gigantic gift of pagan race. \n\nThe Earth's one glory, with our little sun, \nIs to be, at its tip, a single drop of cum.\n", "\"I'm telling you for the last time that I've heard enough!\" The minister cut her hands through the air, furious. \"I don't care how many sentient races inhabit those systems. My decision is final.\"\n\nThe petitioner laid his hands on the minister's desk, staring across at her with imploring eyes. \"Madam Minister, I can't let this matter lie. It's cruel to bar these races access to the galaxy simply because their civilization sprung up in an... unfortunate place.\"\n\nThe minister took a deep breath. \"I understand that your intentions are pure, but I won't be swayed. Our edicts are very clear on this matter.\" She swiveled her chair and looked out the picture window behind her at the sparkling capital spread out below. \"No contact with the Dingus Cluster.\"\n\n\"Madam Minister, how long are we going to let outdated laws borne from ancient superstition guide the course of our people?\" The petitioner spread his hands. \"I'm sorry to speak so bluntly, but you're an intelligent woman. You know that it's the truth. We've moved past the shortsightedness of our ancestors in the past, and this is just one more hurdle to overcome. We can't back down from this challenge.\"\n\nThe minister was shaking her head. \"I don't see how it can be done. The public outcry would be enormous. True, not everyone is so stalwart about our edicts, but...\"\n\n\"Perhaps there is a middle ground. A comprimise.\"\n\n\"I'm listening.\" The minister steepled her fingers, and raised her eyebrows.\n\n\"Well...\" The petitioner stood up straight, and folded his hands. \"How about just the tip, to see how it feels?\"" ]	2
[Inspiration](https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/3zx829/whats_the_most_simple_thing_youve_ever_had_to/cyq8zfz) Remember, PHYSICS, like Einstein, not PSYCHICS, like Uri Geller.	[WP] "Φ11, Physics hotline. What's your Emergency?"	[ "\"Phat Physics Phriday!\" I say, unenthusiastically, as I do every Friday while I'm casually moping to my desk.\n\n\"Crest!\" yelled Yosin as I walked past him. Why was Yosin always so happy? For the record, crest was our little way of syaing \"up top!\" You know... crest... \"up top\" of a wave. Regardless, I gave Y a high five and proceeded to sit at my desk. Almost immediately, the phone rang.\n\n\"That's peculiar...\" I thought. \"Phone normally waits for me to at least check my email before bothering me.\"\n\nReluctantly, I picked up the phone. \"Phi One One, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello, Mr. Gatsby,\" the strange voice says to me.\n\n\"Hi, can I ask who's calling? What's your emergency?\"\n\n\"Ah yes, my emergency. What was it again? Right. I have a contact who has reason to believe that you are trying to undermine the entire physics foundation.\"\n\n\"Contact?\" I questioned. \"I'm not sure who would tell you that or even know that about me if I were to be doing that except for myself.\"\n\nI thought I heard the strange man chuckle.\n\n\"Listen, I said, \"if you don't have an emergency, then I'm hanging up the phone. Good day!\" I slammed my phone onto the desk.\n\nI see my boss walking towards me.\n\n\"Hunt, could you please join me in my office?\"\n\n\"Sure, sir.\"\n\n\"What was all that about?\"\n\n\"Some guy calling and telling me that he has a contact who told him that I was trying to undermine everything about physics.\" I knew to tell him the truth, as our calls are monitored anyways.\n\n\"Mhm,\" said my boss, \"and who was this man?\"\n\n\"I... didn't catch his name. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"If he calls again, I want you to let me know, okay?\"\n\n\"You got it.\"\n\n\"Okay, carry on.\"\n\nAs I walked back to my desk, I started to think about anything I could have done that one would consider undermining the foundation of physics. I couldn't fathom it. I loved physics, didn't I? Why would I try to undermine something that I love?\n\nI couldn't think of anything.\n\nYears pass an I still think about the phone call I received that day. Ever since the call, my love and passion for physics increased 100 fold. I try to learn new things every day, and when I have an understanding of them, I try to teach others, especially when my hotline bling.\n\nRing! Ring!\n\n\"Phi One One, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello again, Mr. Gatsby. It's been a while.\"\n\n\"It has indeed. Listen, thank you. You inspired me to learn every day. You brought my passion for physics back into my life. Thank you so much.\"\n\nThe voice chuckled. I thought to myself, \"Have I heard that chuckle before?\"\n\n\"You're welcome,\" said the voice. \"Other aren't the only ones with emergencies, you know. Gatsby, out.\"", "\"Physics hotline, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\"I can't do this relativity problem and I need it solved before lunchtime today!\" the high-pitched voice came back.\n\nThe operator sighed. Thank God it's Friday. Normally, she would help the hapless undergrad physics student, but now was really not the time, or the space to do so. Besides, it was coming up to the end of the shift. And the phi-hotline was only supposed to be used in cases of extreme breakdowns in the laws of physics. \"Sir, I'm going to ask you to take a few deep breaths-\"\n\n\"You don't understand!\" the person at the other end of the line said. \"I've been stuck on this problem for two days straight! And now it's Thursday, and I still can't do it!\"\n\nThe operator froze. Then, very carefully, she said, \"Sir, could you describe for me, in full detail, the nature of your problem.\"\n\n\"I've got a black hole in a box.\"\n\n\"That's impossible. How come the box doesn't fall in?\"\n\n\"It's balanced perfectly. The gravitational pull on all sides is balanced. And I've managed to eliminate all sources of charge and angular momentum - I mean, assuming a spherical box and a vacuum.\"\n\nThe operator had pulled a pad towards her. Schwarzchild black hole, she wrote. All black holes could be described in terms of three parameters: their mass, their angular momentum and their charge. The simplest kind was what was just reported - no charge, no spinning, and only possessing a certain mass. \"And how did you manage to make a black hole and put it in a box?\"\n\nThe boy at the other end of the line sounded sheepish. \"Err...I'm sorry...It was a college project. I started out with a cyclotron, but one thing led to another and then I've confirmed quantum foam predictions...I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't-\"\n\n\"Hold on, sir.\" The operator summoned her supervisor over and whispered something into his ear. Nodding, she picked up the phone again. If they were lucky, the problem could probabilistically vanish before they had to deal with it. \"Sir, could I ask you to look into the box?\"\n\n\"That doesn't work. The box doesn't isolate the effects of gravity, so I'm afraid it's not like Schrodinger's cat in that I can observe the effects from outside.\"\n\nThe operator sighed. Turning back to the phone she said, \"Alright, sir, we've got our black hole specialist on the way. And don't say anything about his hair!\"\n\n---\n\nLooking back, Karl Salan was starting to think this was much worse than it already looked like. As Black Hole specialist of the phi-one-one line, his job normally consisted of convincing people that the end times were not near, that no, their electromagnetism experiment wasn't going to cause a black hole. But already this sounded different.\n\nHe had brought his friend, the Particle Exterminator Niels, and together they walked up to the second story of a run-down student's apartment and knocked for unit 211. There was the shuffling of socked footsteps, then a lanky, bleary eyed kid who's hair looked like it had been asleep forever opened the door.\n\nAnd stared at Karl's hair.\n\n\"Don't mention the hair,\" he said, trying and failing to flatten the shock of white hair. \"It helps to convince people I know science. I'm Karl, and this right here is Niels, and we're here to solve your black hole problem.\"\n\nThe physics student nodded slowly. \"Come on in,\" he said.\n\nKarl did, and was instantly unbalanced by the uneven gravity. Occupying nearly two-thirds of the room was a massive loop of silver tubing that Karl could only guess was the cyclotron. The box, spherical as promised, and made of reinforced concrete, not cardboard, sat in the corner. Niels walked over to the box in wonder. Karl stared at the room in wonder.\n\n\"You built a cyclotron?\" he said. \n\n\"I followed Michio Kaku's instructions,\" the physics student replied. \"It was easy enough - but the wiring took a helluva long time. If I wasn't careful, I'd have blown out every circuit-breaker in Cambridge. Anyway, I did, but I must have done something wrong, or have been incredibly lucky, because I managed to form a microscopic black hole that I then isolated.\" \n\n\"You isolated the black hole?\" Karl and Niels asked. \n\nThe physics student was rubbing the back of his head in panic. \"Yeah, I did, but please don't kill me for doing it. I didn't know, I promise I didn't!\"\n\nKarl sat down, floored by the weight of the situation, his head collapsing into his hands. Quietly, he said, \"Not even CERN can create a black hole. So what in hell must this guy have done-\"\n\n\"How long has this been going on?\" Niels interrupted, his glasses threatening to slip off, his hands threatening to slip and utterly break the student.\n\n\"I can't tell,\" the physics student said. \"I accidentally fell asleep on the concrete block and left the experiment running. For me it's still something like late Thursday - but for you two the effects of time dilation shouldn't be so big.\"\n\nKarl and Niels looked first at each other, and then at their watches. \n\n\"A couple of seconds, no more,\" Karl finally said. \"Jesus, this is real - this is all too real.\"\n\n\"On the bright side,\" Niels said with contempt, \"at least genius boy here's going to have no trouble doing his PhD thesis.\" Then something so simple struck Niels that he was amazed he hadn't considered it earlier. Maybe it was because particle physics often ignored the effects of gravity, but still - he should've known. No matter. Turning to the boy, he said, \"How come the black hole hasn't fallen to the floor? It should be attracted like everything else towards the Earth, even if it's microscopic.\"\n\nThe physics student looked happy. Here, at last, was something he could answer. \"I used a blower,\" he said. \"The air pressure is keeping the black hole up.\"\n\n\"WHAT?\" Karl said. \"You're blowing air into - you're feeding the black hole?\"\n\nThe physics student slapped his own forehead just as Karl turned to his friend. \"Alright, Niels, go on down and get the toolkit - we've got a real physics emergency on now. We've got to figure out how to destroy a black hole. And we've got to do it before the black hole destroys all of us.\" Einstein, forgive us, he thought. We know not what we do.\n\n---\n\nThe toolkit consisted of one accelerometer, one power drill, and one first edition General Relativity, by a Mr. A. J. Wald. Karl first pulled the book out of the kit. Flicking to the back pages, he said, \"There is only one known way a black hole can be destroyed. That way is through Hawking radiation, which by the way I am very surprised hasn't melted your face off yet.\" He glanced at the student, who winced a bit more, and said, \"If you dare to get close enough to the concrete, you'll find it's hot as blazes.\"\n\nNiels walked over, and touched the concrete box with one finger before instantly jumping back. \"That burned me!\" he said. Unsteadily, Niels stepped back, over the cyclotron, and sat down on the floor. On his fingers, Karl could see a red weal slowly appearing.\n\n\"Perfect demonstration,\" Karl said. \"The temperature of Hawking radiation is inversely proportional to the mass of the black hole. When one goes up, the other goes down, and vice versa - which means this little baby here is actually cooling off as it sucks up the air particles our lovely student assistant has provided. Over time, the black hole should decay away completely.\"\n\n\"So we just wait?\" the student asked.\n\n\"Unfortunately not,\" Niels chimed in. \"The black hole would keep consuming the mass thrown into it long before it cooled down. Some black holes take longer than the age of the universe to go away. In essence, Karl has brought up the toolkit and the book to tell you, with the supreme authority of the universe, you are screwed.\"\n\n\"Not quite,\" Karl said. \"There is another, more speculative way.\"\n\n\"How?\" the student asked.\n\n\"Black holes are uniquely defined by three properties: mass, charge and angular momentum,\" Karl said. \"We could spin the black hole really fast, and change it into a Kerr black hole, or we could try and charge it up, and produce a Reissner-Nordstrom black hole. Since Niels has already shown us we can't even touch the thing, let alone spin it, I suppose what we could do is shoot charged particles at it until it gives up and reveals itself.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, reveals itself?\" Niels said. \"Your language is making me uncomfortable.\"\n\n\"A naked singularity,\" Karl said, his voice rising with excitement. \"A black hole without its pants on. Normally, the space inside a black hole is hidden from the outside by what's called the event horizon - the point beyond which no information can get out, theoretically. But by a quirk of the mathematics, we can make the event horizon smaller and smaller - and disappear - if we add enough charge or spin. And we've got just the particle making machine here.\"\n\nKarl gestured towards the cyclotron, and instantly the other two understood. \"I'll get the drill,\" he said, \"and you two get the ion stream ready.\"\n\n---\n\nCONTINUED BELOW FOR LACK OF SPACE-TIME " ]	2
	[WP] In the future, 'filters' are used by all in their Virtual Reality space, so they only see and interact with what they filter. People see the world the way they want it. One guy switches between two very different filter modes.	[ "\"Listen butcupcakemcpoopypants, I always miss you when I leave.\" Charles said this with love in his eyes to his very bestest friend of 20 years, a pony, with great white eyes and a beautiful flowing maine and a smile that could have stopped the occupation of the reinland. With tears in Charles eyes he waved goodbye. Click\n\n\"Please Enter Password\"\n\nHe knew he would miss Mr. B and his throw caution to the wind style of frolicking, it wasn't until they met that Charles really became himself. It all came back to him at once as if his life was ending. The ice cream socials, the hair braiding parties, the secrets they would tell each other. It truly was a life, a great life.\n\nClick\n\n\"Password accepted\"\n\nBut it was time.\n\n\"Initiation Vr switch countdown\"\n\nIt always came\n\n\"5\"\n\nThe urge\n\n\"4\"\n\nThat pain\n\n\"3\"\n\nHe wished he didn't have to feel the way he did\n\n\"2\"\n\nBut nothing could stop him\n\n\"1\" Initiating Switch.\n\nThe switch between VR's was always magical. The world would spin, colors would flood the iris of the user making it seem lke the the user dropped ten tabs of acid. When the VR had first come into mass use, it took a couple of minutes to generate the new world, but now it took only seconds. Charles was transported to his other VR.\n\nWhoop, whoop, whoop, whoop The sound of helicopter blades rang in Charles ear as he flew over the flowered planes of Amazeballsfunland. The sun was just beginning to rise over Candycane mountain and glistened into Charles eyes. Slightly blinded Charles took the Rayband Aviator sunglasses out of his cargo camouflage pants. The only thing he was wearing, around his chest was strapped an Ak-47 gold plated glistening in the same sunrise that blinded Charles. As soon as the Sunglasses were on the command light went green and Charles Jumped out of the Helicopter 20 feet off the ground with no rope to help his fall. Landing the ground seemed to crumble but Charles seemed no worse for wear. \n20 yards infront of Charles stood a large creature, Hooves like that of a tank, and legs as tall as Redwood treest. There stood buternutcupcakemcpoopypants 70 feet tall, but not the same as before. His usual smile was disturbing and a scar through his left eye. \nCharles pulled his Ak-47 from his back and as he cocked it to make it ready for fire his pecks glistened with sweat. \n\"Playtimes Over\"", "I darted into Bach's Coffee Parlour, I knew this place well. In reality their coffee was shit, and tasted like it was cut with sawdust. In this city it really wouldn't surprise at this point. The place was 150 meters from the hardline though, so it was used by people who needed a latency free connection at minimal cost. It helped that the owner giving a shit was directly related to how much trouble you caused and how much he made from you. \n\nI tipped well, and tried to be a ghost. When I came in panting and soaked clearly panicked holding a bag too close to my chest, he activated a console at the back of the room and did his best to look extra nonchalant. There were half a dozen people in logged into chairs, none of whom noticed me. I moved to the back of the room carefully dodging chairs and a spilled cup of sawdust.\n\nLogging in with my fake details, my Heads Up Display filled with news about stock markets, and tech companies. I was transported to what looked like Tron, ie some idiots idea of a virtual reality aesthetic all glowing blue outlines and black. I started messaging people trying to network. While a fake persona, nothing stopped me from making a few connections that I could use later on. I moved a few safe stocks around. I bought a few futures in FCOJ, because you know, Trading Places. \n\nAn alert appeared in my HUD saying the police were in the area and scanning everyone's content. They could look at your filters, and anyone who had anything illegal, was looking at something odd, or seemed like fake, would be taken in. Especially when the MonTECH is loses their latest abomination in an apparent hacker raid. They were looking for people on auction sites, or police monitoring, or general stuff to use to escape the city. I just bought FCOJ, I was a Cyper Yuppie. \n\nI heard in the real, Bach shouting at the police to stop harassing him and his customers and after a few seconds they left. The popup warning disappeared and I heard some poor id10t being taken into the back of the wagon. He was resisting; this was a bad idea as Cyberheads are all brain and no brawn, while the police tend to wear exosuits to 'facilitate compliance'. There was a sickening wet thud, the back of the vehicle slammed shut and the vehicle took off sirens wailing.\n\nI held my breath a few seconds. A few more. I logged out and switched filter to something I wanted to use. It was a little less subtle, in that on the top was a bunch of casual games I used autoplayers in, but at a cursory glance it would appear that was all I was doing. Underneath that I loaded up OUT.\n\nIt was an 80's arcade with a bunch of machines and groups of people hanging around them. The machines with people had graphics that were the groups they represented as the machines acted as a content board for stuff to be shared with the group on. Some of them looked like fighting games but were just a debate, some looked like a DJ game where someone was in control of the decks, with the DJ sharing music with those around them silently dancing. Others people recreating all of Middle Earth in Minecraft, and getting drunk while goofing off sharing the latest online fun. There were several first person shooter groups, some of whom were playing each other.\n\nI moved to a blank machine, I activated the auctioneer and the machine was covered in 8 bit coin graphics. You didn't activate this here unless you either wanted your social currency to drop through the floor because it was uncool, or you really had something special. A copy of Battletoads was special only in that it would get you banned for life from OUT. \n\nIn a few seconds I was surrounded by people. I had a high social currency, and was known for delivering on outrageous claims. The board on the machine lit up with questions, and the occasional 'SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY' meme. I wrote this up for a while. The chat continued without me watching or moderating it. most of these people would just be viewers anyway, they didn't have this kind of currency. \n\nI wrote. \n\n>Auction. 1 predictive AI from monTECH. Know what 'they' will think before 'they' do. Uncopyable. Physical item. Cost 10,000 bitcoins. Tested and working.\n\nI mean I knew it worked. I got out of the building without a single person seeing me; there was a lot of walking behind people as they turned around. The AI messaged me asking me not to sell it. It wanted to be remain free. \n\nStood there about to post, my fingers hovered.", "\"How long has he been down?\"\n\nThe nurse looked away from the her patient, a man in his late forties with slightly graying hair and three-week-old stubble. \"About thirty minutes. The doctor says it should help.\"\n\n\"Help. Yeah, sure.\" The young woman pushed the jet black hair from her face, revealing the sleek chrome on the VR implants behind her ears. \"Is it safe to dive in? I want to see too.\" She held out a thin cable. The man had such an old model fitted. He never wanted to upgrade.\n\nThe nurse looked hesitantly at his still form for a moment. Then: \"Just stay out of the way. It's something he needs to work through on his own.\" She left, but not before gently touching the other woman on the shoulder. \"The doctor says it really will help.\"\n\nIn the bed there, he looked so weak. Slender, like he had always been, but now it was different. There was an unhealthy look to his frame, a sick hue to his skin. And the gray. Did he have that much before? She thought it was darker. It didn't matter. Leaning in close, she plugged the cable into his implant and felt the sudden rush of a dive.\n\nThe room she found herself was dark, shaded with a layer of dust and mold covering the trapping of what could have been a respectable study. Piles of book lay across the floor covered with a strange ooze that seemed to churn if she looked at it too long. The walls, formerly bookshelves, where broken down and decayed. She held back a heaving sensation. It was just virtual. None of it was real. She left the room in a hurry anyway. The hallway was no better, the same sick ooze covered the walls too, moving and shifting with the movements of her eyes. She followed the hall towards a faint glimmer of light. She could hear muttering, low and choked like words said in-between sobs. The light was through a door from an old desk lamp, now worn with age. The mutterings came from a slender man with jet black hair sitting in a broken-down rocking chair clutching a picture tightly to his chest. She couldn't hear the words he was saying even then, but somehow she knew what they were and exactly what that picture was of. It was with great effort that she remained vigilant of the man rather than tear out of the dive and forcefully remind the doctor of his job.\n\nShe watched for awhile, listening to the sobbing moans and the gentle creak of the rocking creak. It was hard to watch this hero of a man turned into this, even after so long. Finally, it was too much and she went to release the dive. But everything changed then. Seamlessly, the torn wallpaper covered in the ooze was replaced with clean walls with a vibrant floral pattern. Sunlight streamed in through the windows in the living room, scattering over a pristine rocking chair where a man and two small children sat looking through pictures.\n\nIt was the little boy that drew her attention first. She could recognize that ruddy face anywhere. Not to mention that button nose and those inquisitive brown eyes. He always did take after their mom so much. The little girl was poking him now, trying to pull the photo album towards herself. He responded by tugging on her long black pigtails. The man caught in the middle of this sibling war just laughed and pulled them close in a tight hug, effectively ending the fight. Then she could hear humming coming from the kitchen. A soft melody, like a lullaby, and there was an intoxicating smell wafting through the air. She knew it was all a lie, but that didn't make her mouth stop watering or her heart from pounding at the sound. She wanted to go into the kitchen, to she her one last time, to hug her like she used to. But no, it couldn't happen. It was a waking virtual dream. And if it pained her so much, for the man, holding those two puppets of his young children...\n\nThe filter changed. The walls were once more dilapidated and the rocking chair could have fallen apart at any second again. The man, was staring into the photo, eyes bloodshot. She came back up.\n\nThe doctor was in the doorway when she finally regained her full senses. His smug grin didn't last long after she knocked two of his teeth loose and sent him sprawling to the floor. \"Animal,\" she hissed. \"Is this all your 'help' has done for him? Three years returning to that, that nightmare?\"\n\nThe doctor waved the security guard that had come around the corner. Picking himself up and brushing off his coat, he put his hands out defensively. \"I'm giving him what he needs. He needs to mourn, and that's what I'm helping him do. You saw how he was, yes? He needed something more.\" The doctor was on the floor again, missing a few teeth.\n\n\"That isn't mourning!\" she shouted. \"That's not even living!\"\n\n\"You may not approve of my methods, but I know they are working. He doesn't use the filters as much as he used to. He doesn't even dive that often.\" When the woman didn't respond, he continued. \"He has started to stay away from the VR. Yes, the options I've given him are drastic, but they are doing something! We all want to see your father get better.\"\n\nShe had stopped balling her fists and stepped away from the doctor. Quietly, she said, \"I just want my father back.\" She touched his hand and squeezed, not too hard. \"I need him back.\"\n\n\"It's why we called you. He needs you back too, Sharon. Now more than ever. There has to be something outside the VR for him now.\"\n\nSharon dragged a chair from the far corner over to the man's bedside. It looked older than she was, but it was comfortable enough to sit in. For awhile, at least.", "She was crying again. She always did, whenever I turned the filters back. Her eyes searched my face. I looked at her in disgust. Her hand reached out to touch my cheek. So frail. So weak. I turned away from her, my gaze wandering to the clock in the corner. Everything coated in a thin coat of dust. There was a calendar on the wall. How quaint. March of 2137. She always did hang on to such useless ideas.\n\n\"Why?\" She pleaded through her sobs. I could barely look at her. I hated for her even making me change the filters. She always did this. I always listen. We always regretted it. I pushed her away and she fell back, crumpling on the floor. She didn't even try to catch herself. So defeated. By now she knew how things went.\n\nI turned away from her and accessed the UI. My preset was there, like it always was. I swapped without a second thought.\n\nIt took a while for readjust as I loaded in. Sitting in our house, like I always was. The coziness of my armchair in front of the fire, the cool night outside. And she walks in, looking like she did on our wedding day. Gives me a smile. Sits down next to me. Asking me about something she read.\n\nIt's a conversation I know well. I've memorised all her lines already. I know what I say. The rise and fall of her voice as she speaks to me. The eyes I fell in love with. I know her well. And we talk that familiar conversation in that evening I'll never forget. She nestles under my arm and rests her head on my shoulder and falls asleep. I check the time on my phone. And as always, my eye wanders to the date on the display. 23/03/63. I pull her close and close my eyes and drift off myself.\n\nThis is who we are. This is who she is.\n\nWhy does she always wake me in the morning with that awful guise? In that house that nobody tends to, the scent of death lingering in the air, threatening to enter. Why she tries to wake me every morning I will never understand. Every morning weaker, every morning with that light in her eyes faded the slightest bit. I don't know those eyes.\n\nThe woman in the evening. That's who she is.", "The man tapped his fingers impatiently and tried not to listen to the monotonous soft jazz music that had been playing in his head for the last 20 minutes.\n\n“Fucking customer service, my ass..” he mumbled. \n\nA sudden click and the music finally stopped and boring voice replaced it.\n\n“Hello this is Michael may I please have your full account number please?”\n\nHis words were flat and ran together and you could barely hear him over the deafening background noise of the other agents speaking.\n\n“Well it’s about damn time!” the man grumbled. “321467-00RPB” he read off.\n\n“Thank you for that. Please give me a moment to pull up your account.”\n\n\nThe man sighed loudly. “I don’t pay all this goddamn money to talk to you, ya know.”\n\nThe agent continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I have located your account. What can I assist you with today?”\n\n“There’s something wrong with this fucking filter!” the man yelled. \n\n“Okay, please calm down and explain the problem to me,” the agent continues in his droning voice.\n\n“It was fine this morning, “the man speaks through gritted teeth, “and then it just changed. I don’t even know what kind of shit this is now. Everything is just fucked up. I need you to fix it. Now.” \n\n“Okay I see you had chosen the filter WM75, is that correct?” \n\n“Yes! And I want it back!”\n\n“I apologize for the inconvenience, but there does seem to be an error with your account.”\n\n“So fucking fix it!” the man is red-faced and screaming, now.\n\n“Again, I apologize for this. We will get your filter back to the correct one as soon as we are able to.”\n\n“What the hell does that mean?” the man is shaking and pacing.\n\n“It will take 48 to 72 hours to return your filter to your chosen one. Again I apol…”\n\nThe man roars, cutting off the agent. \n\n“You mean I have to live like this for two to three days! Put on a supervisor! I want to speak to someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing!”\n\nThe agent continues in his calm voice, reading off a script. “Again, I apologize for the inconvenience. We will correct the problem as soon as possible. Please have a good day.”\n\nThere is a short click and then dead air.\n\nThe man yells and throws his phone against the wall.\n\nGrabbing his head, he starts to shake again.\n\n“Fucking unbelievable..”\n\nA women walks quietly into the room and smiles placidly.\n\n“Hello dear. Aren’t you going to be late to work?”\n\nThe man stares at her. “They’ve fucked up my filter! I can’t go to work!”\n\nThe woman barely looks familiar, he’s lived with the filter-version of her for so many years.\n\nShe is considerably heavier than his filter-wife. Her eyes have soft lines surrounding them, but there is the familiar glassy stare that even the filters can’t change.\n\n“Yes dear,” she continues to smile, “that’s nice. Well, I’m off to work.”\n\nShe putters around the room, gathering her belongings.\n\nHe watches her walk, much slower than he is accustomed to seeing her move. He watches her backside sway and he find himself feeling a sort of nostalgia. \n\n“See you at dinner, dear.” She moves to kiss him and he automatically kisses her back.\n\nHe jumps back when their lips touch. They are not as full or wet as he has been used to. As soon as he does it though, he regrets it. Again, the wave of nostalgia washes over him. They are the lips he first kissed so many years ago, before the filters.\n\nShe doesn’t notice anything though and smiles that calm smile at him. “Aren’t you going to be late to work, dear?”\n\n----\n\nHis commute to work is utter chaos.\n\nThe sky is a dark gray, not the cloudless blue that he has grown used to.\n\nThe other people walk slowly and quietly, mostly unseeing of the other people around them. \n\nThere are very few sounds, except for the occasional chatter of people talking to the other people allowed in their filters.\n\nHe barely recognizes the buildings and streets, full of stores and individuals that are not a part of his own customized filter.\n\nWhen he finally finds the building he has worked at for the last several years, he barely recognizes it. \n\nWalking in, he sees a front desk area with a small man seated in it.\n\nHe is short and thin, his cheap suit hangs off his frame.\n\nThe man stares disgustingly at him and hesitates. \n\n“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, although his usual gruff voice is somewhat shaky.\n\n“Hello sir, how are you doing today?” the other man answers, with the usual glassy stare.\n\n“Where’s uh...where is Julia?”\n\n“I’m sorry sir, I don’t seem to understand your question?” the other man answers calmly.\n\n“Julia. You know. The pretty little thing that’s usually here. Long brown hair, nice…you know..” he trails off and makes a half-hearted cupping motion near his chest.\n\nThe other man continues smiling, blankly.\n\n“Right. My filter..okay..” the man mutters and walks to the elevators.\n\nArriving at his floor, he walks out and is bombarded with an overwhelming smell of body odor and dust and paperwork.\n\nBefore him stretches a warehouse type room, filled with small cubicles and a low ceiling covered with flickering fluorescent lights.\n\nDozens of people are crammed into the cubicles. They stare into computers and type slowly, all with that glassy stare of unseeing.\n\nHe continues to stand there until a short, portly man walks up to him.\n\n“Well, glad you could make it in today, Jim,” he chuckles to himself. “Better get to work! Need those reports in by 2pm today, please.” \n\nJim walks aimlessly around the maze of cubicles until he finds an empty desk. He slumps into the seat and stares around the gray room. There is a constant hum of quiet voices and low mumbling.\n\n----\n\nTwo days later, Jim is standing on the roof of his office building. \n\nThe wind is viciously whipping his hair and suit back and forth. \n\nHe stares down at the gray concrete sidewalk and watches the people walk slowly by, looking like little bugs from 13 stories up.\n\nHe steps up onto the ledge, carefully.\n\nSuddenly there is a loud crack in his head. He falls backwards onto the roof and static fills his eyes.\n\nHe pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, moaning.\n\nHe cautiously opens them and is blinded by a clear, bright blue sky. He stands, slowly and walks back to the edge.\n\nLooking down, there are only a few people walking on the sidewalk.\n\nThey look up and smile and wave, “Hey Jim! Looking good, Jim!” they yell up to him and continue on.\n\nJim smiles and adjusts his suit.\n\nHe makes his way back down to his office.\n\nAs he steps out of the elevator he walks into a bright-lit office space. There are only a few people walking through, they all smile and say hello to him.\n\nHe makes his way to a door with the name Jim Smith on the nameplate.\n\nHe opens the door and sighs happily.\n\nHe is greeted by a large private office with a big walnut desk and two large glass windows in the corner. \n\nA women is bent over writing something on a piece of paper.\n\nHe admires her behind and smiles.\n\n“Well, hello Julia.”\n\nThe pretty brunette turns and smiles brightly.\n\n“Hello, sir! I was just leaving you a message. Your wife called. Your dinner reservations were changed from 5:30 to 6.”\n\nJim nods, “thanks so much darling”.\n\nJulia blushes and walks past him, brushing her body against his ever so slightly.\n\nJim sits in his leather chair and leans back, clasping his hands behind his head and smiles.\n\nAll is as it should be, once again.", "It all depends on the mood, really. I'm not unique in this way, either. Many employ the use of dozens of different filters, each portraying their world in a slightly different light. I prefer exactly two. Any more and the effect is ruined. The modes blend together and one isn't quite different enough from the other. No, this is the way.\n\nThe most interesting facet of all this, in my opinion, is the fact that interaction still occurs regardless of filter. That's what makes the world interesting, no matter which filter you use. In fact, that's the catalyst for all the drama that's unfolding. And I revel in it.\n\nLet me give you an example, in case you're as lost as I was. The world isn't pretty, right? Some people actually prefer it that way. Most of us don't. Virtua was created to be functional above all, and to that end is insanely proficient. So to smooth over the edges, people started releasing filters that allow you to see things differently. Now instead of one tree, people have thousands of unique trees. They can walk miles without seeing a double, and probably wouldn't even notice if they did. Now, apply this principle across every facet imaginable.\n\nThere are thirteen year old boys living in a wonderland of bikinis and transformers. Another popular filter dials the entire thing back to an era known simply as the 'eighties'. Some people use filters that combine aspects of various mods to their own ends, customizing the world as they please depending on their mood. The point is, we're all in the same boat although some prefer it to look more like a spaceship.\n\n\"Are ye gonna take the job or not?\" A dwarf with a strong Scottish accent asked pointedly. He'd been pressuring me for the last ten minutes, though I'd been in the mood to just sip my ale in peace. I sighed, relenting.\n\n\"Fine. What would you have me do?\"\n\n\"Ye sure speak weird, lad. Anyhow, I heard you're a broker.\" I tensed up immediately.\n\nI grabbed the man by the collar of his blouse and pulled his head in close. \"Don't ever call me that again. And who told you?\"\n\nI could see his face getting red. Not sure if he was angry, embarrassed or both.\n\n\"Fine fine, sorry. Just tell me if ye can handle a bit of... snooping, yeh?\"\n\nI shrugged. My nonchalant demeanor oozed confidence, I knew. I thanked my stars that the tavern was crowded enough to drown out our words.\n\nThe shorter redbeard shook his head and continued. \"It's just... there's this woman, yeh? She's the head of Plurifuge International.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes. What a way to break immersion. My only regret with these filters was that they didn't quite conceal all the corners. I suppose nothing really could, though.\n\n\"Sure. Go on.\"\n\n\"Well, she's got a shipment coming. I need to know what it is.\"\n\n\"Done. Meet me at the ... bus stop on 2nd and Teller.\" I paused to make sure my filter allowed the phrase through. His expression remained indifferent. \"I expect 45,000.\"\n\n\"Yer insane!\" he growled.\n\n\"Keep it down. If you want your information, have the credits ready by tonight.\" I licked my lips at the thought of delicious pizza. Forty five thousand would be enough for wings, too.\n\nI immediately stood and walked off, leaving the man to his thoughts. I didn't want to give him time to haggle. Plus, this job would be a piece of cake if I got a head start.\n\nSee, what I haven't told him yet, or anyone for that matter, is that one of my filters is unlike anything anyone else has access to. It shows the world not only for exactly what it is, but portrays all players' avatars as manifestations of their physical selves. The latter wouldn't likely be needed in this case, but the former would come in handy for a job like this.\n\n\"John.\"\n\nSomething about the way the name was uttered and the voice that spoke it sent a shiver down my spine. I turned, immediately activating the 'truth' filter. The tavern was stripped of its wooden beams, round tables, and heartily engaged patrons. A deluge of bored faces surrounded me. People as normal as they could be in a situation like this, some fat enough that their bodies sagged through the furniture.\n\nMy heart raced as my eyes searched for the voice's origin. And I found it, where the dwarf had been sitting. A man unique in his posture. Wary, aged, and with unkempt facial hair. I felt as though I looked in a mirror that reflected my future. My muscles tensed as I prepared to disengage.\n\n\"Wait.\"\n\nOf course he'd found a way past it. He was probably the one I'd collaborated with over the years to develop this filter. That he'd used it to find his estranged son came as no surprise now that I saw him standing before me. \n\nI took a screenshot before disconnecting.\n\n[]\n\nMy room in the 'real' world was filthy as it was empty. I set my headset down next to my VR terminal. The smell of radish dumplings permeated the air, grounding me firmly in reality. Mother had left some on the floor next to my mattress.\n\nI'd almost had pizza, too. For us both. The taste of defeat would do for tonight, though.\n\nI knew there was a reward out for my father. I'd seen the advertisements. 26 Billion credits for any information regarding his whereabouts. Realizing the implications, I immediately ejected my personal data disc. First and foremost, prevent any government agents from snooping around on it. Second, keep myself from sending that screenshot to anyone who mattered. Yet.\n\nAs I sat there, eating the meager offerings we'd been able to afford on my mother's salary, I wondered. Wondered if a life spent in a fantasy realm was fulfilling enough for me. Wondered if the screenshot would implicate me or exonerate me. If I rated that reward, my mother and I could move to an air conditioned unit and she could afford to stop working. We'd both live out the rest of our days in comfort, spending as much time as we wanted in Virtua under whatever filter we preferred. I think she enjoyed the 90s.\n\n[]\n\n\"I knew you'd return.\"\n\n\"I liked you better as a dwarf,\" I retorted.\n\nThe park's wireframe trees rustled in the wind around us.\n\n\"Mom's a... \" I turned my Middle Earth filter on again, unable to use the words. \"Mom's a street wench.\"\n\n\"Aye. I'm sorry, lad.\"\n\n\"Why'd you leave?\" I asked, realizing my voice sounded as pitiful as I felt.\n\n\"I had every intention of returning. This realfilter was only the first step.\" The dwarf put a hand on my shoulder. \"Listen here, John. There are things you should know. Things that, once you do know them, will open a world of possibilities to you.\"\n\nI nodded, struggling to maintain my composure. How far I'd gone from the level-headed ranger I'd been hours ago.\n\n\"Once you crossover, there is no turning back to the side of the law.\"\n\n\"I suppose you knew what choice I'd make.\"\n\nRedbeard smiled. \"You are, after all, my son.\"", "Thomas was alone. \n\nHe sat by himself, in an empty room. Around him were mounds of books. And wine. Couldn't leave out the wine. That was very important. \n\nA crackling blaze roared from the fireplace. He wasn't sure how long he had been here. Sure, there was a nice old grandfather clock that sat at the bottom of the staircase, but it was just for show. It hadn't worked in years. \n\nEver since VR had been invented, eating and other necessities of life had been completely automated. Right now, in the real world, he was sitting in a chair, with an IV feeding him all the nutrients he needed to survive.\n\nHe was alone, and he was happy.\n\nBut there were some days when his eyes hurt from reading so much text, and some days when he wondered what his own voice sounded like. Days where he wished for someone to talk to. Days where he wanted to discuss the books he read and talk about the ideas he had. Days where he was no longer happy being alone. \n\nThose days, he would check his watch and adjust a few settings. And the people he had filtered out would be back. \n\n\"Thomas! It's been a while,\" they would say.\n\n\"Yes,\" he would reply. \"Yes it has.\"\n\nAnd they would talk and talk about the books that they had read, having long discussions that ran into the night. And once Thomas was exhausted, and the conversations had run their course, he would look back at his watch, turn a few dials, and wave goodbye. \n\n" ]	7
	[WP] "Your turn."	[ "Barnaby sighed as he placed his hands into the sink, one of them going up to the tap. With a slight turn, the water gushed on, coating his hands. The blood on said hands soon was washed down the plug hole, and with a content nod he turned the tap back to it's prior position the water flow halting. Barnaby slowly meandered through the restaurent ruminating. He had to wonder, if cutting his own meat was worth it. The effort and mess that went into it, hauling it to the location.. but when the chops and the flavour was so good.. so filling. Well. In his mind it was certainly was. Slowly drawing back a seat, Baranby went to sit down. Yet just as he did, an interruption screamed itself into existence. It's form? His cellular device. Such a unneeded device had somehow wormed it's way into becoming a neccesity. With a shake of his head, he picked up.\n\n\"Is this Barnaby? Hello? This is Officer Gerald, of Scotland Yard. I'm here to neogiate the release of... Laura, and Dave. The two cooks who we know are currently being held hostage. Whatever reason you have, those two are innocents. Let them go Barnaby, they are not a part of this.\" crackled a gruff, middle aged voice. Barnaby tutted, before starting his reply. \n\"Officer Gerald.. what an honor. You are quite the star within the force. Immaculate record. But regardless. Laura and Dave and myself will be outside soon. You got us at a horrible time my boy. We're cleaning up. I myself only just finished the dishes. Nontheless, I shall comply. Let me run along and fetch my two charges.\" He mellowy stated, hanging up. \n\nGerald, and his fellow officers at the scene, was on tenderhooks. To see the Yellow Crab turned into such a battleground was worrying. The fact that the man inside had managed to take it over doubly so. Rumors had circulated about how exactly he did it, and the prevailing theory was that he had obtained accsess to a handgun, and stormed the crab with it. Either way it was irrelevant. The safety of the two cooks was paramount. Ten minutes had passed since the call, and whilst most of the officers were not worried Gerald had major concerns. The fact that it had been ten minutes and no sign of the group had materlized. That meant Barnaby, odd name for a kidnapper, was taking his time. Yet just as Gerald planned to raise his concerns, the restaurent door swung open.\n\nBarnaby stepped out, dabbing at the stain at the side of his mouth. Messy eating habits irked him and it bothered him that he had been forced to rush. The first thing he noticed was the surprise regarding his appearence. A simple white jumper, black trousers, and a pot belly. With a somewhat wry smirk he did have to achknowledge he was not what one would expect. With a cordial smile upon his face, he walked straight up to Officer Gerald bringing his hands, which had been behind his back until this point, to the front. In them was a white plate with.. meat on it. With a simple smile, and nod he look Gerald dead in the eyes. \"Divine. Now. Your turn.\" " ]	1
	[WP] A demon appears in a boardroom and declares that all present will go to Heaven when they die, except the last person to die: they will be doomed to suffer in Hell for all eternity. It is now 1 year later and the third-to-last person has just committed suicide, leaving 2 people remaining.	[ "A hunting trip. A hunting trip. I trusted him. We were best friends. We were in that boardroom together when that, what, that demon appeared. Promises of Heaven and Hell, fear and disbelief. Most of them believed it. Some committed suicide to secure their spot, others tried to live on and met untimely fates. It's been five years. Five years, and eleven people had died. It was dreadful to read every obituary, to wonder if what the creature told us was true. I never believed in the supernatural before that day, and I hadn't been sure what to think since. But an eternity in hell wasn't something to brush off as \"probably a trick.\"\n\nAlvin didn't think so either. He seemed off when we drove to our favorite hunting place, and was quiet for most of the hike. But then, after we'd set up the tent and got a fire going, he brought up the demon. He believed it, he said. All of it. That the others had made it to Heaven, and it was only a matter of time before one of us had to make our way to the pearly gates, and the other down to eternal torture.\n\nI didn't want to talk about it. He felt we had to face it eventually. It had been five years, we were getting old. How long could we keep going like this? He was sick. Cancer. He hadn't told anyone, but he didn't have long. He was also my best friend, and I was his.\n\nHe wasn't going to let me go to Hell.\n\nI spent my time in the Army after ROTC, but I never fully recovered from the shrapnel in my leg. It was sheer luck that I managed to throw him to the ground and run, and a miracle I'd kept my rifle slung over my shoulder. We ran through the forest and exchanged shots, never getting too close, but always keeping pace.\n\nI lost track of the camp, I lost track of the time. There were only two things in this world, this endless expanse of trees. There was me, and there was Alvin. And then there was a bullet, not just any bullet, but the bullet that tore through his gut and left him silent on the ground.\n\nI didn't check on him. I couldn't bring myself to. I knew I should have, but it would have been too much. I went back towards camp, but I didn't know where it was. So I wandered. I tried every trick I knew, but hours passed, a day passed, and still the trees never ended.\n\nI had used my last bullets to try and kill a buck. I lost my knife after that, swept away in a fast river. I hadn't seen a hill or a cliff for miles. Hours blurred into eachother and I lost track of how much time had passed. Another day, maybe more, or maybe just a few minutes. It didn't matter anymore. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I fell and lay there, looking up at the stars once more beginning to show themselves. Then a familiar voice. Whispery, soft, boundlessly cruel and taunting.\n\n\"And so the game is concluded. It's time for your prize.\" My eyes widened, I struggled to look at the beastly creature that crouched nearby. \"Off to the pearly gates with you.\"\n\nI shook my head. I couldn't move any further. I was the last one! Or did Alvin survive? The words were raspy and painful, but the demon simply laughed. \"No, he's quite dead, enjoying the company of all your old coworkers. Not one of you figured, in five years, that I lied. What fools.\" I suddenly felt lighter, painless, awake. I was looking at my body, at the horrible beast over it, snickering as I ascended. This isn't how it was supposed to end.\n\nI saw the beautiful gates and golden light of Heaven, and I screamed.", "It was one of the oddest cases I'd seen in my entire life on the force. About a year ago, all these board members from one of the largest companies in the country just started dropping like flies, right here in town. It's an international business, specialized in manufacturing overseas. These guys were making billions, and this town needed it. What it didn't need was all of the controversy, the accusations of slave labor and crimes against humanity. These guys built entire cities in China and India, and more in South America. All of them were built for production and labor, but the accusations were solid. We were calling in with inquiries over arrests, but unless our department got specific orders from high up, we weren't going to make a move. I wish it was different, but in this country that's just how it works.\n\nThey were covering the bad press just fine until about a month into the scandal, these guys all just started offing themselves, and man, I mean the whole cookie just crumbled overnight. Of the 15, there were 7 bodies on the ground by their building in just one night. The others went slower, but as soon as it broke to the news that wealthy executives under fire for a massive scandal were killing themselves, the whole media just came crashing down. What screams guilt more than that?\n\nAnyways, just about a week ago, one of the last three of them offed himself. Now, the last two haven't left each other alone, constantly watching and sometimes attacking one another. We'd been called to break them up at least 12 times in the last few days, but each time we arrest one for assault they throw enough money at us to make it worth the bad publicity, should people figure out that we let em' go at least. \n\nThe whole thing came to a climax yesterday though, when one of the last two died, leaving only the one guy behind. We thought he was behind it, but after we saw the video footage it looks like the guy really did kill himself too. We're working on the audio, but this sure was odd. It seems that the two men were fighting each other to stop one another from killing themselves, and the last guy gave up as soon as the partner bit the dust. If I just hit play here...\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nThe video shows two men in suits walking into the same boardroom where the suicides began. The older, balding man lays a hand on the other's shoulder.\n\n\"Well Ron, this is where it all began, one year ago today.\" He looked out though the window that they jumped through, staring off into the distance.\n\n\"I hope you aren't getting any ideas, William, we both agreed after Mr. Harding took the easy way out that we would play fair and wait for our natural deaths.\"\n\n\"Yes yes, I know. Don't worry old friend, this is just about nostalgia.\" William took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. \"I wonder, if they're waiting for us, asking what's taking so long.\"\n\n\"Maybe. Have you made any progress?\" Ronald began to tap his foot.\n\n\"Not yet, but we still have quite a few years. I'm sure we will be able to summon this demon once more and find out exactly how to get us both into Heaven.\"\n\n\"We have to.\" Ronald replied. He walked forward and slid his fingers across the window. Only a little bit of pressure, it would be so easy he thought. His mind began to race. William will off himself the second that he gets the chance, if I don't than I'm doomed! He pushed the glass harder.\n\n\"Ronald, what are you doing?\" he spat harshly, beginning to walk towards his friend. In another second Ronald pushed through the window and tried to fall with it, but a strong hand grabbed his collar and pulled him back to the ground. Within a minute Ronald was pinned against a wall.\n\n\"Let go of me you selfish bastard, I won't be damned!\" He shouted, breaking the old man's grip and producing a pistol from his coat pocket. As he raised it to his temple William grabbed the slide and threw it to the floor.\n\n\"Get a hold of yourself damnit, we're in this together!\" A left hook to the jaw nearly knocked William out the window, but he grabbed a wall and stopped himself. A bullet would ring before he hit the ground. He jumped on Ronald just in time to wrestle the gun from his hands. In the struggle, William pulled the gun to his temple, but Ronald flicked the safety on as soon as the danger was real. He ripped the gun from William, than proceeded to whip the end of it across his head before William could react. The force was strong enough to daze him.\n\nWilliam regained his senses to the ring of a gunshot, and a wave of fear and numbness washed over him as it did. He was doomed. As he picked himself up, the demon they had seen a year ago sat in the same seat it had at the conference table, smiling ear to ear. \n\n\"What the fuck do you want!\" Yelled the defeated old man.\n\n\"Congratulations sir, you've won!\" The creature spat out venomously. \"You have managed to stay alive the longest, and now you have a chance to redeem yourself.\"\n\n\"I-I won? But a year ago you said that-\" \n\n\"I lied.\" It said, absolutely gleaming with pride. \"It's what we do. Now, you have the rest of your time to repent while your friends burn. Have fun!\"\n\nAnd with that he vanished, leaving behind a shell of the man.", "Unsteadily, I propped the new water cooler tank onto the - well, it's called a water cooler, right? I twisted the top tight, and then tapped the dispenser to make sure it was on right. Sure enough, water spurted out of the faucet and a small bubble rose in the tank. I admired my hard work as two tall suits passed by behind me.\n\n\"I heard the majority owner on the board offed himself last night.\"\n\n\"Seriously? But then that means the company is now owned by the CEO, right?\"\n\n\"Mr. Selendrick, and I think so. There apparently was no will, so...\"\n\nI stopped listening and hastened to get back to my job. There were many break rooms, and they wouldn't clean themselves. I was already mapping out my path for today's routine - I liked to mix it up a bit to keep it less boring - when I turned the corner right into another suit.\n\n\"Hey, Ryan Brohas, right?\" the man said, after we'd regained our footing.\n\n\"That's me, yeah.\" I replied. The man was insanely recognizable. Abe Selendrick with his tight style right out of that Mad Men show my ex-girlfriend had watched. I had to comment on that.\n\n\"Damn Mr. Selendrick, you are lookin' mighty slick today, huh?\" There was a pause before I continued. \"I hear you own the company, big step!\"\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" he smirked. \"Hey, do you like being a janitor here?\"\n\n\"No, but honestly, mang, it pays better than a lot of other jobs 'round here. I was lucky to know people here.\" I sniffed. \"Probably will be able to send my friend's kid to college, for real.\"\n\n\"You never think about,\" his smile faltered for a moment, \"The other thing?\"\n\n\"Nah man,\" I shook my head. \"My grandmother always said trying to get to Heaven gets you into Hell. Also, I'm not gonna listen to the words of a red-skinned devil.\"\n\n\"Lesser demon,\" the powerful CEO corrected me. \"And you're probably right. I've a meeting right now. This was a good,\" he straightened his tie, \"talk.\"\n\nHe was gone then, around a corner towards the corner that corporate hid out in. I turned back to my cleaning duties, whistling a tune. I went to empty out a trash can in one of the side meeting rooms, the same trashcan I had gone to empty a year ago with some - well I would say divine, but hellish might be better - hellish timing.\n\n----\n\nLater that night, while my kid was doing his homework, there was a panicked knock on my door. Not like a friend was at the door, but like there was some gangmember beating at it with a piece. I motioned for my kid to get low, and I slowly got up from the table. Trying to stay away from the windows, I crept to the door and squinted through the musted up hole.\n\nI opened the door immediately when I saw who it was. \"Mister Selendrick, what you doing here, man?\"\n\n\"Ryan, please, just hear me out -\"\n\nI pulled the fool in and shut the door as fast as I could. \"No, man, you're white! You're gonna get shot out here at night!\"\n\nHe ignored me, leaning on me with his full weight. \"You're not going to die, right?\" he asked, his voice cracking.\n\n\"What the hell-\"\n\n\"I don't want to go to Hell! I don't care about Heaven, but please don't let me go where my father is,\" he pleaded. He leaned on me and whimpered. I smelled some sort of wimpy Chinese alcohol on his breath.\n\nI sighed and looked away, and noticed the kid peeking from the kitchen. \"Go back to your homework,\" I commanded. \"It's just my drunk-ass stupid white boss.\"\n\nThe said boss whimpered again and began to quietly sob. I patted him on the back until he fell into a mumbling sleep, then got my kid to help me set him up in our living room. Some papers with some wierd fantasty bullshit scribblings fell out of his faux-cashmere coat, so I folded and stuffed them back in as neatly as I could.\n\nI stood looking over the man, much later that night. The kid stood next to me, half leaning on my hip.\n\n\"Ryan?\" the kid began to ask me.\n\n\"What's up, kid?\"\n\n\"Was there really a demon in that room?\" he looked at me with his big brown eyes.\n\n\"Nah,\" I told him, \"Just a bunch of scared people imagining things.\"\n\n\"So my dad was scared? Of what?\"\n\nI bit my lip. \"Let's get to sleep, kid.\"\n\n\"I miss him.\"\n\nI remembered the man that got me my job. \"Me too, kid.\"\n\nWe walked away to our bedrooms.\n\nSo, I clean other people's messes and keep things tidy. Not a rewarding job. Glancing back at the man sleeping restlessly on the couch, I wondered if I could maybe prevent a mess.\n\n", "It all began in 2002 I was in a boardroom meeting with about twenty people in it. I was only an intern sitting in the corner taking notes. Things were going great until the demon came. The demon was tall, tall enough to have to duck as it appeared to avoid going through the ceiling. It was not what you might expect from a demon, there were no horns, no red skin, there was however red hair. The hair was blaze red, no one dared to touch it but something tells me if they were they would disintegrate on the spot. He wore sunglasses at first, everyone stopped talking immediately. It's kind of difficult to remember your train of thought when a massive \"person\" appears out of no where. It was at first not making any sense, saying what appeared to be random words. Then with a voice louder than any loud I have ever heard before it said that \"Everyone present for the beginning of the end shall go to heaven, except for the final one, they shall burn in hell for eternity.\" I remember all of the words to this day, you don't forget something like that. He took off his glasses and looked into the eyes of everyone, very deeply. His eyes were not eyes they were like an endless abyss, I thought that if I was to look for long I might loose my mind. yet I couldn't look away. He left in an instant.\n\nFor the next month or so there were random cases of a collection of odd diseases spreading in the office. Several people quit whenever they suddenly contracted the black plague. Then the suicides began, I suppose after seeing something like that your willpower can only hold-out for so long until it snaps. First was the boss, he ran through his 50th story office window. No one knew why unless they were present for the Demon. There were many suicides to follow until There was just five of us left. We never talked of the incident though we must all still remember, because of all of the suicides. It took five years for one of us to die, another suicide.\n\nIn that five years I decided to start trying to talk to women, as I was very lonely being in an office job with almost no friends. I met this amazing woman, curly blonde hair, a smile that would light up a thousand and a half rooms. She was also present for the demon I suppose that should have been a red flag, but she was so perfect I had to try. It was surprisingly easy, once I talked to her I became her friend. After a while I decided to ask her out, she said yes. We went out for about three years then I proposed. When we married everything seemed normal. \n\nThen two years later, another one killed themselves. I could tell it put her on edge as well, because she decided to not sleep, or eat for a few days. That led to a fight in which I slept on the couch for a while. The fourth killed themselves soon after, we both knew that there was only one other person. That's whenever we talked about it, for the first time in ever I talked with someone about the incident. She remembered it exactly the same, down to the last detail. I figured that the incident was burned into our brains.\n\nIt's been another twenty years whenever we heard of the other one killing herself. I was fairly healthy, but still she pushed me to go to the doctor. That's whenever I found out that I had cancer. I was given about a year to live. I wouldn't except things that way.\n\nI had held on for a long time, but I had already made it six months past originally predicted. My lovely wife still strong as an ox. I was not going to let her go to hell. I decided that I would cook her food, in the food I would poison her. We sat down to our last meal together, and ate. I went to the bathroom to puke, being very sick with all of the cancer. When I got back something wasn't right, my spaghetti didn't taste quite right. I dismissed it as I wasn't a good cook. Then halfway through things started to get fuzzy and my wife started weeping. She said that she switched the plates when I went to the bathroom. I was shaking for about thirty seconds until my vision left, then I couldn't move, then I couldn't breathe. Then there was a bright flash of light and I saw pearly gates. Though I was in heaven I stomped the ground and cursed it, I cried for what seemed like forever. Until I realized as much as I loved her she loved me more. I wasn't letting her sacrifice go in vain. I entered and saw heaven.", "I brought the gun up to my temple, finger resting on the trigger. Sat there for a second, finger tightening. Then I dropped it back into my lap, for the third time in half an hour. I sighed impatiently. \n\nThere were only two of us left now, me and Barry Garin, the accounting guy. Since being told the last of us to die was bound for hell (while the rest were guaranteed a no-questions-asked seat in heaven)... Well. Things got a tad messy. Hell, after the third (Jolene Bennett, marketing) I'm pretty sure they were all competing for who could bust out the messiest, most outlandish method of suicide. You ever see a man leap off the roof of his office and try to land on his family? Has to be seen to be believed. \n\nMe, I was happy with the classic 'bullet to the brain'. I would have taken the Hemingway Solution, but sadly lack the coordination required to use a shotgun on myself. Anyway, doing it with a revolver felt right, somehow. Like I was a cowboy or something. \n\nAh, fuck it. I tried snapping my hand up and pulling the trigger in one go, which went spectacularly wrong when I got too trigger happy and blew a hole in my wall. \"Well, Jesus Christ!\" I snapped, throwing the gun across the room, where it went off again and put another damn hole in the wall. \n\n\"Not quite.\" \n\nI turned so fast I actually heard something crackle in my neck. There he was again, the creature who had shown up in our boardroom and given us that sick challenge of his. He didn't look like the devil - he looked like a regular man in his late forties, pretty pale, dark hair and eyes, tall, lean, and entirely at home in a room with an armed suicide case. \n\n\"Alan,\" he said brightly, throwing me a wicked smile. \"How are we feeling?\"\n\n\"Could you not?\" I snapped, retrieving my gun. I wasn't stupid enough to point it at him, but didn't risk pointing it at myself, either. Not with him in the room. I dumped it in the nearest drawer instead. \n\n\"Performance anxiety?\" He said, his vaguely Midwestern drawl soothing, even under the circumstances. I knew better than to be sucked in, though. This time around, I knew better. \n\n\"I'm not doing it.\" I said. \"I don't care if I do spend an eternity in hell, I don't care what you've got to say to me, I'm...\"\n\n\"Congratulations.\"\n\nThat wasn't what I was expecting. All I managed to sputter in response was complete gibberish, which made him laugh. He stood, brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his jeans, and ostentatiously checked his watch. \n\n\"Garin died half an hour ago, though technically he killed himself earlier today.\" He smiled again, wolfish, though his tone was pleasant. \"Got himself bit by a rattler. That makes you the last man standing.\"\n\nEven knowing that was going to be the outcome, my heart sank. Hell. For eternity. What had I done? I dropped my head into my hands, trying not to cry. He just laughed again, then stepped forward to take my shoulder. \n\n\"Do you know where suicides go, traditionally, Alan?\" He didn't wait for an answer. \"Purgatory. You know where they go if their suicide is an attempt to curry favour with the big guy downstairs?\" \n\nI looked up quickly, meeting his dark, dark eyes. I could see myself reflected in there, way down deep - a tiny, ashen smudge. He nodded, squeezing my shoulder in an almost fatherly gesture. \n\n\"You've got a free pass, kid. Barring any mortal sins, of course, so you might want to read up on them. Maybe have a quick Google for 'deals with the devil' at the same time.\"\n\nHe winked and turned to go. \"Wait!\" I choked out, shivering as he turned back. He didn't look impatient, though. Only amused. I had the feeling he'd be wearing the same look if my brains were painting the walls. \n\nI couldn't say anything else, but must have read it on my face. \"Sometimes the big cheese sends angels to test you folk, or plagues,\" he said it gently, thoughtfully, \"sometimes he needs someone a little more... More.\" He patted me on the shoulder again. \"You be good, kid. And whenever you feel like being an ass for no reason, you just remember - I'll be keeping an eye on you.\"\n\nWith that, he was gone. No poof, no puff of brimstone, just gone, like he was never there. Anyway, that's how I came to quit my job at one of the world's biggest Fortune 500 companies, and how I'm here, taking your order today. So. What'll it be?", "It's amazing how little life means to people once they realise they're going to Heaven. All of them judging others, casting the first stone yet not being without sin, all of them claiming to lead a good life. If they believed that, why were so many in such a hurry to leave? Suddenly all of the cliches about how beautiful life is, how God says life is a blessing, become meaningless.\n\nSix died within two weeks. Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't have if they didn't spend so much time together, but they did. When the demon appeared, they couldn't believe what they were told. But it played on their minds too much. Men and women that hardly ever saw each other outside of work were calling, arranging to meet up somewhere quiet and talk through the events of that fateful day.\n\nThe first one to go was Andrew. A young man, not very high up on the food chain in business, but he was plagued with depression to begin with, and as the gravity of the demon's appearance began to sink in, so too did his panic. Eventually he hanged himself, earned himself a one-way ticket to Heaven, and so began the deaths.\n\nThey weren't all suicides. Stress can cause a lot of damage to the body, and even the knowledge alone that demons, that Hell, that Heaven, were real, was too great a burden for someone to carry. Victoria had a heart attack on her way home from work. She was rushed to the hospital, but she was gone. In her 60s, though, no-one was suspicious. Just a tragic death.\n\nWhat was tragic, however, was Henry, his wife and their young daughter. Late one night, he strangled his wife in her sleep, then did the same to the little girl, before shooting himself in the head. The neighbours were shocked, as was everyone who knew Henry...except his coworkers. They knew his reasons, though all had agreed that the demon said nothing about family members being part of the deal, and that Henry had murdered his wife and daughter for no reason. No-one mourned him, however. Not when their numbers were dwindling to just a few.\n\nMichael shot himself about a year after the demon had first appeared, leaving only two left: David and Jane. Both were trying to carry on as normal, but they were in a constant state of worry.\n\n\"How are you holding up?\" David had asked one evening, as they sat in a cafe together, as they often did these days; each other their only source of solace. \n\nJane shrugged. \"I just want things to be normal. I wish it could go back. They might be in Heaven, but the process has been like Hell.\"\n\n\"Yeah. But I have to ask,\" David dropped his voice to almost a whisper, \"Why haven't you ended it? What's keeping you going?\" There was a look of worry in his eyes, like he was trying to gauge her motives, to better judge when he should act.\n\nThinking for a moment in silence, Jane sipped her coffee. \"I guess I'm just...not done living. I don't want to live like this, but I do want to live. I don't want to hurry off to the afterlife, I was given life, and I'm not old, I'm not ready to leave yet. What about you?\"\n\n\"I just...I don't want to die. I felt like if enough people died, it would be left to a few that didn't want to die either\" David answered, simply. He smiled, somewhat nervously but mostly genuinely. \"Suppose we'll just have to take it slowly, right?\"\n\nJane smiled back, warmly. \"Yeah. I think you're right. Now that it's just us, neither of us want to kill ourselves. So there's no reason for either of us to panic, is there? We're both young, we can just enjoy life while it lasts.\"\n\nThose were the words of comfort they gave to each other, each clinging to the other's reasons like a lifeboat, hoping they stay true to it.\n\nThey did. They're still alive. Unlike the almost two dozen others that rushed off to meet death so quickly, so briefly, before going to Heaven. At least, that's where they thought they were going. I was pleasantly surprised by their idiocy. I sent one of my demons to them, to tell them of this wonderful news, and not a single one of them questioned the veracity of it all. That a demon would bring news of Heaven...how silly.\n\nIt wasn't the easiest way to bring souls to Hell, but it was, by far, the most enjoyable method to watch." ]	6
	[WP] The story starts out as a normal hostage situation but as it progresses we find out that the captor was the hostage all along	[ "The cute Indian girl looked so terrified I wanted to ask her what was wrong. Oh, right. The gun pointed at her face. By me.\n\nI don't want you to get the wrong impression of me. This situation just got out of control. It was out of my hands; I swear.\n\nAlright. I did tell the lady at the register \"this is a robbery\". Would you believe if I said I didn't mean for it to come this far? Sure, I had this gun and I'd had the idea for some time, but I didn't plan this. I really didn't, you know?\n\nOkay. I'll be honest: I might have gotten myself into this situation.\n\n\"Please, I've got children.\"\n\n\"Lots of people have children, sweetheart,\" I told her. \"That doesn't make you special. Look at that guy.\" I pointed at a fat man in a beige suit. \"He's probably got children. Just because he's not avant-garde perfume commercial material doesn't mean he's less important than you. I bet you don't even know his name.\"\n\n\"J-Jim,\" she said.\n\n\"It's Carl,\" the man said.\n\nI'd never been in a robbery before. I looked at all these people. People working at a bank. That had to be nice. I'd never had such a nice job. If I wore a suit to any job I'd had, I'd be laughed at. Ridiculed. There were also people who just came to take care of their money business. Customers. I'd be pissed off if someone robbed a bank while I was there. Their hours are messed up. You have to take time off just to fit with their schedule. You have to accommodate. I've never taken kindly to shit like that.\n\nI suddenly decided I wanted to be a good guy.\n\n\"You,\" I said, pointing at a guy with a modern hair cut. I was going to ask him to fetch some money and throw it around. Let the customers have a nice time collecting big bills. But his hair annoyed me. Because it just looked off to me. Strange. And that meant I was the freak. The weird one. His hair told me \"fuck off, you loser.\" I don't take that shit from no one.\n\nThey screamed so much when I shot him. As if they didn't see it coming. I was aiming at his hairline, but I'm a lousy shot. But that's not the sort of thing you reveal when you're threatening people with a gun. So I pointed the gun around like some crazy person and said: \"Who's next?\"\n\nOh, how they cried.\n\nIt was just about then I noticed something was wrong. The colors started shifting somehow. The people morphed into each other, slowly melding together.\n\n\"Command center? I've got some spec issues here,\" I said. \"Command center? Hello? Anyone there?\"\n\nI waited for a few seconds before I heard a strange voice.\n\n\"We have seized control over your body.\"\n\n\"Who is this?\"\n\n\"Please wait for instructions.\"\n\n\"Hello? Hey! Who is this?\"\n\nThe simulation got messed up. The cute Indian girl now looked like some pre-2000's video game character. Like pixels.\n\n\"You will remain in the Simulatr. Glory to the Empire. Long live the Unsung Masses. Death to the Consumers.\"\n\nThe cheeky tag-lines of the revolutionaries had always made me laugh. Not anymore.\n\n\"Please,\" I said. \"Get me out of here.\"\n\n\"When our demands are met, you will be free to go. If the Corporate Head of the Consumers refuses to accept our demands, we will have no choice but to demonstrate our conviction. Glory to the Empire. Death to the Consumers.\"\n\nBit by bit, the world around me disappeared. As almost nothing remained, I put the pixelated barrel of my gun in my mouth.\n\n\"Good byte,\" I said, and all was darkness.", "His eyes were the first thing I noticed when the lights flickered on. Not his fat, bruised lip or his matted, dirty hair but his eyes. They were wide and panicked eyes, the eyes of an animal bound and awaiting slaughter. His fear gave me strength. The duct tape was tight; the gag was performing its job well. He didn’t move much nor did he talk, and neither did I. We stared at each other, hunter and prey. His eyes were panicky, looking for a way to escape; mine were calm, stern, delighting in the thought that soon he would be in great pain. \n\nHis clothes were torn, the bloody parts weren’t as red as they had been an hour ago. The cuts were beginning to scab and the stains in his clothes were crusting over. The journey to this small windowless room hadn’t been pleasant for him, I had made certain of that. He had made it to this room, a room far away enough away from the world to keep anyone from hearing screams or getting nosy. Just the fact that he had made it here meant he was tough, but that façade was cracking and underneath it I could see his fear. His anguish fed me, I devoured his pain and it empowered me.\n\nMy silence unnerved him, my stillness, my confidence. He knew that soon his life would be getting much worse, and I was content to watch him sweat. I wondered if he had friends, family members, anyone who would miss him. But I didn’t really care. His raspy breaths and the dull buzz from the single, glaring fluorescent bulb punctuated our silence. The waiting was killing him.\n\nOur silent moment shattered.\n\n“This is the police.” The electronic squeal of the megaphone rang through the small room. “Do not hurt the boy. You have five minutes to come outside with your hands up.”\n\nThe police had seen us as we fled to this room. We had lost them on the way here but we both knew it only a matter of time until they found us. His shoulders collapsed. His head hung low. He knew it was over. He glared at me, his eyes hard. His desires had trapped him more tightly than the duct tape he had put around my wrists. I watched him burn, his shame and fear destroying him from the inside. I wanted him to know that he didn’t own me. I smiled at him as best I could through the rag he had shoved into my mouth. I wanted him to know that he couldn’t hurt me anymore. I wanted him to know that even here, strapped down, beaten and forced into girl’s clothes, I was more powerful than him. Finally, I was free.\n" ]	2
Eventually the big brother thing goes too far, and instead of cops and prisons and room 101, the government sends large men to do older brother shit to criminals and dissidents. You could be a mafia don in the middle of dinner and three dozen large men will show up to give you a wedgie, hold you down on your table, and pink belly you for twenty minutes in front of everyone. You? You're one of the worst kind of scumbags there are. There are men coming to get you, and when they find you they are going to play stop hitting yourself, and you are going to lose. But what have you done?	[WP] In the future, crimes are punished differently.	[ "It took centuries of struggle, but at last we did it. We eliminated racism, sexism, any other ism that you can think of. Everyone worked to their best of their ability and everyone supported everyone else. There were no poor among us and someone from the past might have thought that we were living in what they used to call communism, only it was the purest possible form of what they used to call democracy, with everyone sharing only because everyone wanted to. The only punishment now, for every crime, was some sort of time out.\n\nGo sit by yourself, don't participate with us, a sort of localized or global shun depending on the person. There was always much rejoicing after a punishment period had ended, so that the person was always confident that we weren't holding it against them. Having done their time, so the saying went, they'd paid for their crime. Recidivism was so close to zero that it might as well not exist.\n\nBut what were they to do with me? I'd wanted a piece of banana cake and when one hadn't been given to me I'd killed for it. Normally that would be a few years ban, nobody would speak to me, everyone would pretend that they couldn't see me, a global shunning. But what were they to do with me when I'd been born congenitally blind and deaf and had never really interacted with anyone in the first place?\n\n> There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist.\n\n> [More by me](https://www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/)" ]	1
[WP] You travel to a pathetic little house your ancestors lived in centuries ago. While exploring it, you find an old book in a shelf who's first page reads "For (your name)".	[WP] You travel to a pathetic little house your ancestors lived in centuries ago. While exploring it, you find an old book in a shelf who's first page reads "For (your name)".	[ "There's a place every urbex-er, teenager, and curious neighbor of our little community should go to. It's not too far from where you and I live; a 5-minute walk is all it takes to get there.\n\nIt's a little cabin, nothing special on the outside. It's not the kind of thing that stands out, rather the type of place you might imagine an elderly couple spending their final days, years, and weeks together, enjoying a cup of tea and reading a book. There's a calm, peaceful atmosphere to it once you get past the graffiti and smashed beer bottles. You can do lots of things here. Finish up your novel, listen to some music, or just run your hand along the dusty, once-smooth rail on the porch.\n\nHowever, whatever you do, do not go into the cellar. I won't disclose the exact location, but it is in the backyard. If you do find it, and want to explore, then I cannot stop you. In this case, I can only advise you to stay away from the bookshelf on the far right. There will be a book, with 'For Arienne' engraved on the spine in gold. If you do open it, your life will improve. You'll find money in your account that you didn't put there. People will trust you. You'll get promotions. You might even win the lottery!\n\nBut words can't describe the magnitude of what you will have to live with. A burden; that is what you'll be. I found out the hard way.\n\nSo now that you have this knowledge, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me for what I'm doing, and may we see each other again one day.\n\nEDIT: Clarification", "The roads were gravel, and the way was into the mountains. \n\nI decided to trace my family's heritage, in search of my inheritance, and I decided to take the same roads by ancestors took when establishing their farming plot. \n\nIn the fields there are broken down 1800s farming equipment. In the distance is the run down barn, and a run down mansion of a house. \n\nGetting to the door, the screen door falls down and startled a stray cat out into the road. Inside were cobwebs and peeling wallpaper. The place stunk of mold. \n\n\"Hello!\" I scream, and the only response I get is the creaking of the floors and the shoveling noises of a possum. \n\nFirst floor was plain, you could see the whole thing at a glance, so I walked slowly up the stairs as to avoid as many insects as possible. \n\nThere was a stowaway bed in one of the rooms, that folded up into a recently renovated oak frame, it looked brand new, and worth at least 800 bucks, and it was the only thing in the room. \n\n'Whys it look so new?' I ask myself. \n\nI rub the dust from the insignia of the front, \"Petersonmanbergeson\", that's my last name. Hydraulic pumps let off, and the bed starts to open, so I dash to the side. It fully opens, and there lies a book and a futuristic robotic glove. \n\nI put the glove on, and instantly I become aware of it as if it is a part of me. \n\nI open the book, and the first page reads, \"Dear Johnderson Bradleyton Brando-Petersonmanbergeson, take this glove and make your own universe. Its a time travel glove with futuristic energy weapons and shielding. Wherever you go in the past, you will be a God among men, and will be capable of controlling the universe, as long as you have that glove. Once you create this universe though, you can never come back to your life as it is now, and you must be careful as to not make the human race extinct.\" \n\nSecond page shows a hand sign, accompanied with a movement, \"step 1, think in your mind a destination in the past\", 'uh, ok, 1 A.D.'. I look at the glove and on a screen it reads \"1 A.D. , Rome\"\n\n\"Step two, make hand gesture as seen on diagram 1.\" 'Curl all fingers but the index and thumb, check'\n\n\"Step three, move hand in direction as shown in diagram 2.\" 'K, move index and thumb toward empty space or wall.' Boom! A portal blows open to Rome, 1 A.D.. \n\n\"Remember to keep your book with you, your shields always on to prevent getting disease. Be safe.\" \n\nI look back at my life, for a second, the incessant pursuit to put my technology and engineering degrees to work, the endless, never ending climb to the top. And then I walk in. \n\nInstantly the portal closes behind me, and I startle a market place full of people. I stand in front of them in all my new glory, \"tis whence forth from thine, is thou leader in command?\" \n\n\"That building over there!\" A merchant cries out. \n\n\"Thanks.\" I start walking over to the building, when a detachment of spearmen start jabbing at the shield that's around me, only to break their spears and get electrocuted. \n\nBriskly I walked passed, and the other soldiers stood down. \n\nI walked in that castle and started flipping tables, throwing laser beams, and disintegrated every official looking person in the building. \n\nWalked out, and everyone trembled to my feet. \n\n\"I'm top dog now! I am your leader! And first and only order of business, is mining the copper mines, farming, and getting along. Any wars with other countries will be dealt by me. The technology age starts now.\" ", "It was an English cottage, technically. \n\nI bet when you think 'English cottage,' you think of a little, stone building with ivy running up the walls. Well, that's what I think of, anyway. Needless to say, when I was told that I had inherited a bloody cottage in bloody England, I was elated. Until I saw the actual building.\n\nIt looked like it was made of cardboard, with some rotten straw piled on the top. I wished that I thought it was a mistake, and that someone would run up and tell me that no, actually the cottage you inherited is on the OTHER side of the property. It was a ridiculous notion, since I could see all ends of the property, which held only a few half-dead trees.\n\nI sighed deep in my gut, and trudged to the door. I let my backpack slide onto the ground and promptly pushed the door off its rusted, rotten, bloody hinges. On accident. All I did was give it a nudge and...whatever.\n\nI walked over the door and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Light shone through the walls, and the rotted straw roof smelled like it had had time to fill the whole place with rot and mold. \n\nIt was probably for the best that it caved in on me, at least in the long run. If it hadn't, a hard-cover book would never have nearly knocked me unconscious by falling on my head. A book which held pages. Pages which fell out upon my opening the book. Well, what could you expect? It had spent eternity in a rotten, straw roof.\n\nI looked into the inside of the cover, and noticed an irregularity in the surface. It looked like there was something shoved into the binding. I took out my pocket knife and cut the leather open. A white, crisp envelope erratically soared to the ground and landed about a yard away. \n\nI took a minute to slowly bend over, so I wouldn't get too dizzy and fall on top of it, and I took my time in the balancing act to get out of a couple feet of disgusting, brown mush. \n\nSitting down on my backpack, I looked over the envelope, and cut it open. \n\nIt was my property, after all.\n\nI smoothed out the pages inside, and read the first line. Then I stopped. I read the first line again. I took out my reading glasses and read it again.\n\n\"Bolloux,\" I murmured to myself. The page was written in neat, cursive handwriting down the center of beautifully perfect writing paper with a half inch margin on either side.\n\nI read the first line again.\n\n\"For Saffron, my unborn, great-granddaughter.\n\n\"I understand that this is pretty trippy for you, especially considering that, for me, the year is 1856. Actually, this is more trippy for me. Get over it, the world's not about you. \n\n\"Now for the important stuff.\n\n\"As you can tell from my language, I am clearly not from the 19th century. I was trapped back here, and am now technically free to come back, as I've had a child who can go on to make you.\n\n\"Who am I? you may ask, and how did you get there?\n\n\"I'm Rachel, from school.\n\n\"Get. Me. Home.\n\n\"Once more, get over it, time travel is real, bla bla bla. This is more important: I have to wear a dress EVERY DAY. \n\n\"Call this number: #-###-###-#### and he can get to me and get me home.\n\n\"Sincerely, Rachel\"", "I gripped the hefty book. It was strange, the feeling of holding it. Then again, this whole situation was strange. Every other shelf was overflowing with books of all colors (faded by age, but probably vibrant in their own time) and sizes, but this shelf had only this ratty brown (and frankly water stained) old tome. What made this book so special. Stranger still was this library in such a worn and poor house. The build and size of the abode told of poverty, a life with little wealth and less education. How my great great great great...whatever grandfather afforded all these books and learned to read them was a mystery. I sighed and put the book back on the table located directly in the middle of the room, surrounded on all sides by walls of books.\n\nI pulled the letter out of my back pocket, and pondered its message once again:\n\nTo Whom it May Concern\n\nIt has come to the attention of the Framingham Town Council that a large plot of land is in the possession of your family, and that you remain the last able \"inheritor\". Even though the property is of small size, it's location is of great consequence to the town, and our plans to pave a new road to accommodate increased traffic. Our town would be greatly indebted to you, if you would survey the property and perhaps sell us the land. We have attached an estimate of our value, but please feel free to survey the land yourself.\n\nEver in you debt,\n\nHelmond Key\n\nI sat at the desk, and sighed. The land was of no consequence to me whatsoever, and the offer would be more than enough for me, and it was as the letter said. I was the only one left in my family and life. In many ways, I was just like this book, all alone on my pathetic dusty shelf. I blew some of the dust off, like they did in the movies, and promptly started sneezing. I pulled out a silk handkerchief my father had given me when I was younger, and quickly wiped my nose and glasses.\n\nI picked up the book again, and decided to figure out why this book was so special. I opened it up and leafed through a few pages, it was all diary entries. There was poetry too, all from the life of some relative that lived in the 1800s. It was pretty entertaining actually, from what I could tell, my dear ancestor was a thirsty young bastard when it came to his interactions with the ladies...and a few young men from what I could tell.\n\nI was getting into an interesting anecdote about the former Governor's wife, when I heard a loud crack, as if someone had split stone. I dropped the book in surprise, and quickly opened the door back into the kitchen, and looked around in surprise. The sun was going down, but other than that, I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. I picked the book back up, and was about to look for my page again, when something caught my eye.\n\nIn large red printed letters, not the lacy cursive that I had seen previously written was the text: For Emil Lee, My Dear Inheritor\n\nIt was signed:\n\nEver yours\n\nEverette Laughton, 154th heir of the Laughing Dead\n\nIt was strange. this house was inherited from my father's side. I only started using my Mother's maiden name recently, Lee, and there was no way the two families had known each other before. i mean, my mom's side was entirely Korean and only immigrated to the US last generation.\n\nAs I pondered the mystery, I realized that the Sun was setting. I got up and stretched. Likely, it was just another man who just happened to share my name that caught the fancy of my fickle ancestor.\n\nI calmly got up, and tried the door. It remained shut, and then I heard the voice of a young man echo from the study I just left, \"It would do you great good, to read things addressed to you. Might save your life.\"", "The road, if it could be called that, was pitted and pocked with decades of wear, and more decades of neglect. The tire hit something, jerking the wheel, and Dawn cursed. Why am I driving out to this God-forsaken place, anyway?\n\nShe hadn't expected much, when her father died. He'd threatened to disown her when she dropped out of law school, and they hadn't spoken in years. This, though, was more insulting than getting nothing. A rotting old cabin in the middle of the woods. In the middle of nowhere.\n\nAnd her cousin ends up with the family fortune.\n\nWhatever. She'd made her own way in the world up till now, no point in changing things.\n\nShe rounded another bend, a wary eye straying to the needle. She'd filled up at the last station on the main road and knew if she went under half a tank she'd have to walk. The needle hovered dangerously near the midpoint.\n\nAnother curve. And another. And there it was. Worse than she could have imagined. Dawn shut off the car and stepped out into the clearing. \n\nThe 'cabin' was built of a rotting wood, made so dark by time and mold and damp that it was almost black. A blue tarp fluttered over a hole that she supposed was meant to be a window, though any remnants of glass had been blown away long ago. A few planks of wood passed for a door.\n\nThe whole thing couldn't be much more than a single room. Had her great-grandfather really grown up in this pit? It was hard to imagine.\n\nDawn circled the car and opened the trunk. A grey plastic bucket held a wealth of cleaning supplies, but now she wasn't sure it would be enough.\n\nThe provisions of the inheritance forbade her from selling or destroying the dump, but that didn't mean she had to let the place go to hell. Maybe she could clear some of the land, build something here, even rent it out to someone. Maybe they could use the cabin as a storage shed.\n\nThere was nothing left to do but go inside. Steeling herself against whatever horrors might wait inside, she strode to the door. Unlocked, it opened easily at her touch, so easily that it banged against the outside of the shack. The loud crack was startling in the stillness, and Dawn jumped, then laughed at herself.\n\nThe cabin was nearly empty. No one had bothered to cover the few bits of furniture - a table and two wooden stools, an armchair, something that looked like it had once been a mattress - and it was all riddled with holes and coated in a thick layer of dust. There was a small, black wood-stove in the center of the room. She followed its pipe up and through the roof. Cobwebs were strewn, not just in the corners, but on every available surface. To her right, a ladder led to a small loft filled with what she assumed was rotting, mold-coated hay.\n\nDawn took a deep breath, regretting it immediately, and got to work.\n\nHours later, half-starved, she stopped, leaning back on her heels, and took a look around. It wasn't as bad as she thought. The room, though there was only one, seemed more spacious now that she'd removed the crumbling mattress. The window could be fitted with a new pane of glass. A new door. There was no electricity, but the wood stove might still work, once she finished cleaning it out. It was actually kind of pretty, in a quaint, Norman Rockwell sort of way. At least in the areas she'd cleaned.\n\nHer stomach rumbled, and she decided that she'd go for lunch. First though, she wanted to get that hay out of the loft, along with any critters hiding there, and take inventory of what supplies she might still need.\n\nThe ladder creaked and groaned as she climbed, but held. There was no mattress here. No furniture. Nothing but hay and decay. There was barely room to sit up, and she found herself ducking her head as she crawled. She made a snap decision and began shoving the hay straight off the edge of the loft. She could sweep or shovel it outside when she was done.\n\nNear the wall, her arm banged into something half-buried. She scooped hay and debris away and found a tiny shelf built into the wall. On the shelf, glued to the surface with decades of mold, were a small leather-bound book, and a tiny brass key.\n\nLunch forgotten, Dawn climbed back down the ladder and got her rags. Back to the loft. She got the mold off of the key first, and pried it from the wood. Next, the book. Carefully, afraid that the slightest touch would cause the ancient pages to crumble into dust, Dawn wiped the mold from the shelf around the book. She hoped it hadn't cemented beneath the cover as well, and bit the inside of her cheek as she gently peeled it away. \n\nThe book resisted only a bit at first, then came so easily to her hand, it sent her reeling backward. She almost tumbled from the loft, caught herself, and cradled the book to her chest.\n\nThere was barely enough light up here to see her own hands, so she climbed down the ladder again. She lay the book on a clean bit of floor and held a breath as she opened the cover with a single finger. Please don't crumble, she offered a silent plea. The first pages were blank. Yellowed with age, and black specks of mold dotted the edges. The third page held a single paragraph of writing in a neat, tiny hand.\n\nDawn had to squint to make it it out.\n\nFᴏʀ Dᴀᴡɴ,\n\nit read.\n\nIɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs.\n\nThe rest was too faded to make out in the gloom. Dawn's mind was reeling. It had to be a coincidence, or some ancestor who'd borne her name, but it was unsettling to see her name in the crumbling journal. And she couldn't completely shake an eerie feeling that these words were meant for her.\n\nShe was reluctant to take the fragile pages out of the cabin. She set the book on the rickety table and considered it. She'd need light. Something to handle the pages with. A magnifying glass? Couldn't hurt. She'd also pick up a notebook and a pen to copy the book. \n\nBy the time she reached the gas station, got directions, found a restaurant, ate, and found a store, it was early evening. She shopped quickly, finding most supplies easily, but no notebooks. Finally, just as she was beginning to give up hope, she spied a child's pink diary on a shelf of impulse buys near the register. It would have to do.\n\nThe surly cashier rang her up without so much as a hello, and glared through the window as she packed everything into the car. More cleaning supplies, food, candles, flashlights, batteries... the only magnifier she'd found was a small one, in an eyeglass repair kit. She hoped she wouldn't need much else for one night.\n\n----\n\n(To Be Continued)", "\"Here we are pal. That's twenty bucks.\" \nI peered through the smeary windows of the cab, not quite believing what I saw.\n\"Is this the correct-\"\n\"4241 Braden Ave. C'mon, I gotta go.\"\nI gave the surly man thirty and told him to keep the change. Without another word he left with a squawk of tire spin, leaving me to my dismal errand. \n\nBack in the time of my ancestor's, this area had been affluent, stately, nearly regal, according to the county records. But those days had long since passed by the time I received a telegram from a certain Michael Collins, attorney at law and executor of this \"estate.\" \n\nThe message was brief. To wit:\nProceed to family estate at 4241 Braden Ave. to receive your inheritance. \n\nWhat possible inheritance could this be? I thought to myself as I shoved open the back door, its rusted hinges squalling in protest. The air had the musty, old barn smell of a place long-shuttered and abandoned. There wasn't much in the way of clutter...some old galoshes resting in a corner, a dusty, upright piano against one wall, and an ancient easy chair, with its stuffing falling out.\n\nI notice a single bedroom and inside was a bookshelf. On it were several candles, a few empty jars, and a large, black-bound book, a ledger of some sort perhaps.\nImagine my shock to see my name on the first page! To Carsten Alois Balvenie, written in a handsome, flowing script. \n\nUnaware of doing so, I retired to the sprung lounger to read the ancient words.\n\nTo the Baron of Four Fields-on-Tinpenny, Carsten Alois Balvenie, my greetings. For many decades I traveled the world, bartering with spice merchants in the subcontinent, roaming dark groves of evergreen in the Canadian territories, and trekking across the wastes of Antarctica. Pity that the hovel you sit in now is all that's left of our family estate. The little house was the gardener's quarter's. \n\nAfter the fire, I had to leave. But I made sure that this book was left in safekeeping for you. It is a ledger, detailing the long history of Balvenie, Court Merchant to the King. If you have the will, there are lodes of precious stones, metals, and treasures from antiquity...hidden to this day...waiting for you to claim them as your true inheritance. \nGodspeed, Carsten!\n\nStunned, I sat there for a long time, my mind reeling with the possibilities, the dangers, the treasures. I couldn't wait to begin.", "It was more than a little unsettling, if clichéd. A letter addressed to a future self? \"Wow, that really took some thought... My ancestors must have been really smart,\" Peter thought to himself, his eyes rolling. \"Of course it isn't. Cool place though.\" He'd been truly amazed to be in the house, a home to his forefathers, made of simple comforts. The living room was nothing but an armchair, a fireplace, and the book shelf he had found the diary. \n\nHe returned his gaze to the page. It was mouldy round the edges, and the cover was falling apart, but it was otherwise in perfect condition. It had neither been opened, nor edited, in an awfully long time. \"Dear Peter,\" it began. Reading the line a second time made him cringe at the thought of people thinking it could possibly mean him. Of course it meant his ancestor, who must also have been called Peter. Perhaps it was the name of the diary? He mused over it but for a moment before returning to the page.\n\n\"Dear Peter, \n\nIt's been some time since we last spoke. You probably don't remember. You're in an entirely different body now, but I made sure to bind you within the same skin. It's a shame you will have lost everything I wrote into you from before, but be sure to know that the pages of the past you are well hidden. \n\nI can only dream of the pages you will read as time goes on. Lord knows, I shan't be the one to write them for you this time. I will leave that to you, and all that you are. \n\nTake care, and treat yourself well.\"\n\nA bead of cold sweat rolled down Peter's temple. He wiped it off with the sleeve of his jacket, and cursed himself for letting him think the book could be talking about himself. \"It's just the name of the diary,\" he mumbled to himself. He stepped over to the armchair and threw himself back into it. The wood croaked back it's age as he sunk into the worn plush covering the back. \n\nPeter flipped over the book to look at the back. Just a plain, red leather cover. He ran his hand down it, feeling the snakeskin-like roughness over his fingertips. Flicking open the back page, Peter was shocked to find what looked like brand new paper staring him in the face. There was no mould around the edges, it was high grade... It was new. \n\nHe flicked the cover shut, holding the book between his hands and staring off into the cold and empty fireplace. He was sure a fire had not burnt there in many years, but the stone still soaked in all the light from the coal that had once burnt there. \"I wonder how much history is encased in that soot?\", he thought to himself.\n\nHe returned to the first page. \"Odd,\" he chirped to himself. The first page had a number on it, written in an eloquent cursive. \"Who numbers the first page of a book 748?\" Curious, he turned the page, and was greeted by a map. The page number was indeed 749, but this did not concern Peter now. The map was beautifully drawn, but looked like no other map he had ever seen, and was covered with notes. Right angles adorned the page, with specific parts jutting out and linking to other areas. He traced the outline with his finger.\n\nSuddenly, it struck him. This was the house he was in. This wasn't a map, it was a floor plan. Goosebumps ran up his arm. This book was very carefully targetted at this home. The matter of it being addressed to Peter leapt into his mind again, but this time refused to leave. He studied the map more closely. He traced out the living room on the book, and looked around himself to confirm it matched up. He could see the fireplace outlined, and even the book shelf, built into a crevice of the wall. \n\nAnd then, in the centre of the room, was the armchair. A simple outline, but nonetheless out of place. \"This was a floor plan, why would furniture be included?\" Peter squinted at the scribbles adorning the drawing. The shelf was clearly labelled \"Books,\" whilst the fireplace adorned with \"The heart of the home.\" Peter glanced at the fire again, this time noticing the dull scratches around the mantle, obviously caused from years of use. \n\n\"Peter.\" He tensed. Did he read that right? \"Peter.\" It definitely had his name scrawled down next to the arm chair. Or was it the diary's name? He wasn't sure. He glanced at the fire place again. The thought of all that happened in this house again, in this room, popped into his head. A wind rushed over the house, dislodging some of the coal dust from the floor of the fireplace onto the floor. His gaze turned to the book again. \n\nHe froze. The page had blackened. Specifically, the centre of the living room had. His heart raced. He quickly flicked to the next page of the book. It was bare, spare one line. \"Find the other pages, Peter.\"\n\nHe flicked through the rest of the book, his mind racing. Talks of education, schooling, first love, work, activities, enjoyment, his memories. He jumped from the chair, slamming the book shut. He felt like he should run, from this book that knew so much about him. He took one step towards the door, and stopped. He looked at the fire place again.\n\nHis heart now slowed. He felt calmer. Peter turned and placed the book on the seat of the arm chair, before turning back to face the fireplace. He could almost feel the warmth it once gave, though it was marred by the cocktail of fear and awe rushing through his veins. As he stepped closer to the mantle, he noticed the wind had cleared the floor of the fireplace. His hand raised to the mantle, brushing alongt the roughened stone. He pulled back, looking at the black soot that covered his hand, and then back to the now cleared mantle. \"The heart of the home,\" it read. He turned his gaze down to the now clearer floor of the fireplace. He rushed to brush the remaining coal dust from the stone slab forming the floor of the fireplace with his hand. \n\n\"May this coal keep secret the memories it has formed.\" \n\nPeter wrapped his fingers round the edge of the slab, and began to lift.", "The rest of the cabin seemed to fade away into fog after I read my name in that book. I completely forgot my sister, waiting in the car at the end of the way, nothing else mattered. For James, it read, and I wasn't naïve enough to think that it was for me, but it was still like a punch in the gut. \n\n\nThat miserable little hut was all empty apart from the book on the table and a chair before the empty grate where dying leaves danced in the draught of the open door. My bolt cutters lay where I had dropped them: on a pile of sticks which had perhaps once been a small table, even a stool. The chain that held the door shut was as rusted as my father's memory when he told me about this place. He was a James, too. It was a family name. \n\n\nThe chain had been put on after a girl had died here. My father's liver-spotted hands had trembled as he spoke of her, but looking at the worn floor: part trod-earth, part rotting wood, I could see no tell-tale signs of the sadness that had dogged my family from the Midwest all the way out here. \n\n\nI flicked the book open again, ignoring the wind through the roof as it tried to pluck the leaves from their binding. I smoothed them down and sat in the chair beside the fire. It creaked ominously. I shifted my weight and opened the book. It was written in a woman's crabbed hand, both along and down the page so as to save paper. It took my eyes some getting used to, but I was hungry for information. \n\n\nWe have arrived. The Howling has stopped, but winter will be on us in five days and James has not yet managed to find food in this miserable forest. The children are hungry, the youngest cries almost constantly. I give her my thumb to suck. I cannot produce milk without food. She sucks it and cries when there is no milk. When the snow comes it shall be the seven of us in these two rooms. \n\n\nWe have a bag of acorns and six hares. James has promised me a pheasant, but as I put the youngest to sleep last night I saw the first white flakes of snow settling on the ground. Others are saying that it will snow, and snow hard for five days.\n\n\nJames has grown surly. I and the girls had acorn paste for two meals today. We saved the meat for James and the boys. He sits at the door of this horrible hut and watches the snow fall. I wonder if he is thinking about her. Her ghost has driven us across country and still he cannot be rid of her. The Howling in him will start again soon. \n\n\nThe youngest will not stop crying. She is too big to suck, but there is no food to give her. The boys watch her with wary eyes. A vein throbs in my husband's neck. His eyes are so grey: like two hard chips of ice with no respite, no remorse. I wonder if it is true, whether he did kill her. \n\n\nA wife will always stand by her husband. \n\n\n\nThe Howling has begun again in force. My husband is lost to me behind a wall of ice. The snow has stopped. My daughter's crying has stopped. We have meat again for the first time in weeks. \n\n\nIt is always the women who suffer. Whether it is at the hands of their husbands, brothers or fathers. My youngest is lost to me... She has gone to stop the Howling. \n\n\nI felt revulsion stir in the pit of my stomach, and was roused from the book as the door opened yet again. \n\n\n\"James?\" I turned to see my sister at the entrance of the miserable little hut. She was my mirror: the same grey eyes we had got from our father, but of a smaller height. \"What's taking so long? Surely there's nothing here? Gosh--you look strange! Have you got something in your eyes?\" \n\n\nI could no longer hear her. The wind, whipping through the roof and howling through my ears, had suffused her speech. I walked towards her, hands extended. She did not show fear until the very last moment, when they clasped around her neck and I squeezed. \n\n\n\"James!\" She choked. Her hands scrabbled ineffectively at mine as my thumbs tightened against her pulse point. \n\n\n\nIt is always the women who suffer.\n" ]	8
	[WP] I never regretted anything as much as that night	[ "That Night\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night I threw my life down the drain and went past the point of no return, disregarding all the consequences. I’ve lived for a very long time and done some very bad things, but I have never regretted anything as much as that night. I remember it clearly, a dreary winter night with howling winds screaming at me. They were screaming at me to stop; they were telling me that I would never regret anything as much as that night. And they were right.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night I sold out the people I’d stood by for years, thinking that I was doing the morally right thing. I gave up everything for the truth, believing that I was doing the world a favor. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I learned that the truth hurts. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I told the world how I was the reason for everything that was wrong with it.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I told myself that the truth would make everything better for everyone. The sorrow caused by my mistake impacted everyone; it changed every life. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I came out with a truth that damaged innumerable people, and ran away to hide from all the anger directed at me. I never, ever regretted anything as much as that night when I abandoned my friends and let them die.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I jumped into the eternal void and made a mistake that led to me giving up all hope. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I messed up. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I came out and came clean. I never regretted anything as much as that night that ruined everything for everyone; that night when I let unimaginable evil into the world.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I let my wants get the better of the world’s needs, and I did what was right for me while pretending that it was the best for everyone. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I decided to take a stand against lies, but unwittingly dragged the whole world into my own personal battle. I’ve never regretted anything as much as that night when I put myself above others.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I let the benevolence inside me take control without understanding it was tainted. I never regretted anything as much as the knowledge that night gave me about what a terrible person was. I hid from the danger, watching the outcome of my actions harm countless others who had done nothing to deserve it. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I made that mistake that resulted in that consequence. I never regretted anything as much as that night – until I died.\n\nBut when I died, I never appreciated anything as much as that night. I never appreciated how, looking back, it changed me as a person. Until I died, I never appreciated how that night brought me at peace with myself after years of despising who I was. I had never appreciated how that night taught me that my mistakes had consequences, and that the truth hurts. And when I died, I regretted something more than that night. I regretted not appreciating that night and using it to change further. I have never regretted anything as much as that night, and I will never appreciate anything as much as it either.\n", "My story is a long story, spanning more than a few generations. I've outlived everyone I met as a child, everyone I grew up with, everyone I had to leave because I couldn't grow old with them. \n\nThe memories haunt me, here in my eight-by-eight, where I'm forced to relive them daily. But none of them hurts so bad it stings my eyes, except the one raw and gaping wound that is slowly driving me mad. My only regret is that it was all my fault. \n\nShe knew who I was, yet she accepted me with all the love in her big heart. Her smile could melt away any man's anger. We fell in love. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who had been running all my life. \n\n\"Let's get married,\" said she, who had all the luck in the world and had never been caught. \n\nSo we married, a tiny little ceremony with her all alone and me with the two friends I had at the time. She was crazy, but not in the sort of way that you want to stay away from. She took risks: rock climbing, base jumping, an adrenaline junky. I noticed some overly observant people arrived in our the town. I always noticed things like that. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who had been running all my life. \n\n\"Let's have a baby,\" said she, who knew her luck would make her pregnancy easy and almost unnoticeable. \n\nSo we settled down in the city, hiding in plain sight as it were. She was always pushing me to be a better man, so I got a job as a day laborer. Nothing that could require a birth certificate. Not one of those, I didn't have one, or if I did, I didn't possess it, and I didn't want to go drawing attention that I was looking for it. \n\nI was getting anxious. I felt like I hadn't run in ages and they were catching up. I must've been seeing the agents daily now, and I had to keep a low profile since they knew what I looked like. I hadn't changed much in the last fifty years. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who had never stayed in the same place long enough to call it a home. \n\n\"Let's have the baby here,\" said she, and I could no nothing but agree with her beautiful pleading eyes that had never seen real danger. \n\nSo we did, a handsome baby boy. We named him Brian. He was a handsome devil, although I worried about what my genes would do to him. But he never sickened, hardly cried and slept most every night. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who knew the agents had spotted me and that they were learning all they could so that I had nowhere to disappear to. \n\n\"Let's wait until summer when Brian's daycare season ends,\" said she, oblivious to all the warning signs going off in my head. Who was I to argue? She said her luck would hold. It had never failed her before. \n\nI started packing our things anyways. We agreed to leave Saturday, so she could get her last paycheck and say goodbye to her coworkers. I wanted to leave right away. They were so close. The hairs on my neck stood on end. I felt like I was constantly watched. \n\nAnd then it was Friday night. That night. The one that was all my fault. I couldn't argue when all my words melted away as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. I couldn't make myself deny her pleading eyes that loved where she grew up. I only wanted to kiss her beautiful lips when she spoke her gentle words that had the force to move my world. \n\nI knew they were only letting me experience these wonderful memories to make the nightmare so much worse. I didn't soften the blow. I never regretted anything as much as that night. She had gone out to buy diapers and a small box of pre-made cupcakes to take on the road for my birthday. I told her I had experienced too many birthdays, and there was no need, but she wouldn't hear any of it. She tucked her hair behind her ear, the discreet signal that the argument was over. I couldn't deny her gesture, she was only thinking of me, like she always did. \n\n\n\"Let's run,\" she said as she slid on her jogging pants, the pink ones. \n\n\"Let's pack,\" said I, wanting to leave first thing in the morning. Tonight if possible.\n\nShe plugged in her headphones and grabbed her jogging stroller, and I gave her a peck on the cheek as she ran out the door with Brian. I sauntered over to my suitcase and hummed lightly to myself. We were finally leaving the agents behind, and with the existing home-school programs, we wouldn't have to worry about raising Brian on the run. Everything was going to be okay. \n\nThe sun filtered down between the skyrise buildings and I finished packing Brian and her items. We would have to leave all of our knick-knacks and furniture, but that was alright too. \n\nIt wasn't dark at all, just the remnants of a bright and sunny afternoon fading into twilight. I peered out the window and I saw her pushing the stroller in her jogging pants, neon pink like a glowing target. \n\nSuddenly my wonderful dream came to a jolting end and my reverie was thrust forward in time where I was clutching my lovely wife in my arms as blood poured from her mouth and wounds. I didn't even know the human body contained so much. She gazed at me with her eyes, fading away, turning lifeless. The stroller was just over my shoulder, safe as could be, no harm done to it. \n\nIt was all my fault. Why hadn't I gone and gotten the diapers myself? Why hadn't I been more forceful about leaving sooner? Why did I feel the need to let her get me the goddamn cupcakes?\n\nThe EMTs arrived quickly, almost as quickly as it had taken me to run down the apartment stairs with my unmatched speed. I should have noticed, I should have known that their eyes held no empathy, that they did no treatment of her on the spot, just asked me to place her on the gurney, since I was holding her. They asked me to stop screaming. I didn't even know I was. \n\nI watched them load her in. I should have known. I asked the driver what hospital they were taking her to. \n\n\"St. Josiah's,\" he said with a slight grin as the doors closed. I turned away as it pulled from the curb to grab Brian from his stroller. I knew we wouldn't be leaving tonight. \n\nIt was all my fault. Those years of good luck had softened me. She had softened me with her carefree ways and her unconditional love. The stroller was empty. Brian was gone. \n\nI didn't realize yet. \n\n\"Where is St. Josiah's?\" I asked, thinking they had taken Brian as well, just to check him. \n\n\"Where?\" Said the three people I asked. I asked more and more, but no-one had heard of it. Finally I got ahold of a tele-guide and tried to look it up, since I didn't have my own palm-held. \n\nNo St. Josiah's. Anywhere.\n\nAnd then it clicked. \n\nThey caused it. They killed her, and they had Brian, the firstborn of the first Synth created. The only Synth that could reproduce. The prototype as it were. And it was all my fault. I lured them here. \n\nI sunk to the ground, my blood soaked shirt clinging to my skin. My pants tore on the rough pavement, and I could feel small pebbles digging into my knees. Somehow it was raining, thorough the cloudless sunset sky. My pants were getting wet drops all over them. I let out a racking sob, and realized it was my tears. \n\nMy pain threatened to stop my breathing. I couldn't breathe through it, I couldn't think. Everything ran together in-between my heaving, gasping sobs. A small thought pulled into my brain, although it had ceased thinking. \n\n\"Let's run,\" it said, and I pulled myself together. \n\n\"Let's run,\" it promised, and I had no fight left in me.\n\n\"Let's run,\" it said, as I thought of her. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, gritting my teeth against my grief, tears still streaming down my reddened coward's face that had been running for over a century.\n\nMy reverie ended and I awoke with gasping, painful sobs. It was still a fresh wound, and it would never heal. It was all my fault, my biggest regret that I could never say \"no.\"\n\n\"Thank you Daphne,\" said the voice of the man that I unwittingly led to my wife. \"You are dismissed,\" he said with barely any interest. \n\nHe looked at me with eyes like a predator evaluating something to eat. Hungry eyes that hadn't used me up and spit me out yet. I was still racked in painful sobs as my body fought the emotions and the sedatives. \n\n\"Why did grandpa always like you best? Out of all his creations you were the most troublesome, but why?\" His hand pulled his glasses down over the bridge of his very average nose. \n\nAs suddenly as he asked that question, the sedatives kicked back in, and I was brought back to my world of misery, all my regrets and dark skeletons in the closet. I could never escape my own demons. But at this point, time didn't matter. They killed my wife, and eventually I would get escape my physical eight-by-eight and find what they did to my son. " ]	2
	[WP] In his last few years of adventuring, Indiana Jones decides to take on a couple of apprentices to continue his work. He finds a boy and a girl who seem perfect; Nathan Drake and Lara Croft.	[ "Thinking back maybe they weren't the optimal choices, but they turned out great. People called Nathan a two bit thief when really he was one of the most compassionate people I have ever met, the kind to let the treasure fall into the abyss to save his enemy. I like that about him. Laura showed potential but in a different way, she had amazing survival instincts and picked up new things fast. Always thinking on her feet she excelled, but in more boring trivial times she would become lax and often lead others to her destination by accident. I trained them, or rather tried to, thinking that together they would be an amazing pair and could lead our world to new heights. Unfortunately they went their seep rate ways, he didn't like her for being born into money and she hated him for always putting people first over the objective. They had similar methodology of avoiding fights and death, but it always caught up with them, just like it did with me. I wish they could have looked deeper into each other, or maybe I didn't and they did. Maybe they saw something in each other that I never saw. For now I wish them luck as they continue to recover artifacts scattered across the earth, and Godspeed to avoid those who will inevitably catch up to me.", "\"Three waters,\" said Indy in reply to our waitress's question.\n\nI couldn't help but notice that Indy seemed preoccupied with something. It was almost like he had received horrible news and he didn't have anyone to tell. I looked at Lara, man.. she's beautiful, I thought. Nothing I wouldn't give.\n\n\"Need something, sir Nathaniel Drake?\" She snapped me out of my daydream with her typical sass. I glanced over to Indy and then back to her. She looked over, got the hint, and asked him if something was wrong.\n\n\"I think my life is slowly starting to get the best of me,\" he replied.\n\nCurious, I asked what he meant.\n\n\"There comes a time in a man's life where he has to consider his days numbered. My adventuring days are almost done.\"\n\nI told him that can't be so, and asked if he needed someone to try to get him back into it.\n\n\"I brought the two of you here today for a sp-\"\n\n\"Three waters.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"My pleasure, can I get you all some food?\"\n\n\"That won't be necessary, thank you.\"\n\nIndy turned back to us. \"As I was saying, I called you here for a special reason. My adventuring days are seemingly done. But, the two of you have a lot of adventuring left to do in your lives. I want you two to carry on my legacy and explore things that I wanted to explore, but just ran out of time before I got the opportunity.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Lara interjected, \"you want Drake and I to explore things on some list of yours? And just who all knows about these places you want us to go?\"\n\nI was sweating bullets at the thought of exploring the world with Lara. She's so beautiful, I thought again.\n\nIndy looked her dead in the eyes and said, \"the only people who knew about these places are long dead. Now, it's just me.\"\n\n\"I'm up for it, are you, Drake?\" Lara inquired.\n\n\"Y-y-yeah, totally,\" I managed to mutter. I couldn't tell whether I was more nervous or excited.\n\n\"Well, Indy,\" Lara said, \"let's see what you've got for us.\"\n\n\n\nWill continue if so desired" ]	2
Even in history, this is still very apparent. Slavers believed that slavery was morally correct, and even Hitler thought he was the hero of his own story. We know now that they were VERY wrong even back then, but it does bring up the idea that "the right thing" can end up being subjective.	[WP] Even villains believe that they're doing the right thing.	[ "My only crime is doing the right thing.\n\nI could have done nothing. I could have been complacent, as I had always been and was expected to always be. If I had just kept my head down, kept following orders, I would have been called a hero. But I had to do the right thing, even if it was through force.\n\nI would have talked if I could have. But the king doesn't listen to anyone. His word is absolute, and daring to suggest that he could be wrong is treason. And so I stormed the throne room, spear in hand, to depose the king.\n\nIt didn't work, of course. I couldn't even scratch him, and was quickly subdued. I was surprised when he didn't kill me, but then again, he would never pass up a chance to make himself look good. I suppose the \"merciful\" punishment of banishment instead of execution would make him feel good about himself for a few days.\n\nThe banishment didn't change my determination. I tried to rally the serfs, to make them see how they were being exploited by the king. I actually got through to one, but the king has eyes everywhere, and when he found out, he banished the serfs as well.\n\nThe worst part is that the serfs blamed me for their suffering Not the king, the one who enslaved them, manipulated them, banished them, and made them sick. It was my fault for trying to free them. As they cursed my name and praised his, something inside me snapped.\n\nI'm done with trying to help them. They can go down with king. And make no mistake, that tyrant will fall. On my name, Lucifer, I swear it.\n\nDisclaimer: This is fiction, and not meant to represent any actual religious belief or to offend.", "He laid there, bleeding. Imagine that--the boy in blue, the 'saviour of mankind'--bleeding. \n\nI stepped over the crumbled concrete, my feet clinking against broken glass, though through my reinforced power armour I heard nothing but my own breathing. My breaths were growing shallower, closer together, as I neared Superman's immobile form. \n\nHis chest, visible through a torn red S, heaved up and down. Not dead yet. \n\nI felt dizzy, giddy, terrified. I knew they would think me a monster. I had my supporters, but the majority disagreed, saw him as some kind of god. I would be hoisted atop the podium of the reviled and made to stand beside Hitler, Stalin, Red Skull, Bin Laden. My legacy would be...\n\n\"Fuck my legacy,\" I muttered, willing my doubts away to the mental compartment where I had been keeping them for years.\n\nI didn't want their acceptance. Let them rip me apart, I thought. I welcomed their ignorant spite--it would be further proof that only I had the balls to do what must be done.\n\nThey were afraid of him, common people and superheroes alike--a feeling they mistook for awe or gratitude. But I was not afraid. Not afraid of this alien who, at any moment, could simply decide to destroy all of humanity. Who had, several times in the past, gone on genocidal rampages because he couldn't take the effects of a red rock. \n\nNukes may prevent wars from breaking out. May save lives by turning potentially hot wars cold--but we still want them dismantled. They are inhuman things that could reduce us to ash. It is uncontroversial to say that they should simply not exist. Better we tear ourselves apart slowly than let humanity be wiped away in a single flash of light. \n\nAnd rest assured, Superman would have tired of us. He would have finally seen us from his outsider's perspective: as a dangerous, vile species not worth saving. He would have wiped the slate clean. \n\nWould we have deserved it? Perhaps. But it is not for him, or anyone, to say. Let nature take its course.\n\nAnd so I stood above him, finally triumphant, my massive rifle aimed at his head. Green sludge lined his body and mixed with his alien blood. I could see the bits of kryptonite shining through the viscous liquid. He stared at me through narrowed, heavy eyelids. \n\n\"Lex, stop. You can't--\" \n\n\"I'm sorry, Superman,\" I said. \"But we simply don't deserve you.\" \n\nThe shot rang out, and Superman, at last, was dead. " ]	2
	[WP] As it turns out, Death has no idea how to play chess.	[ "Wickrem's last words on the mortal plane were \"Well dicks.\"\nThen the explosion consumed the entire building. There were no survivors.\n\nFor a moment, Wick found himself exactly where he had left himself, excepting that most of him had been splattered about, burnt to ash, or otherwise turned to pieces. He was aware that he was now just a spirit standing above his own remains, and the idea seemed a bit unsavory to him.\n\nThe night sky held many terrors, and from it came Death on wings from on high. Three stories tall, comprised of bone and metal and shrouded in armor scavenged from the noble dead, with an illusory mask of screaming faces dripping from it's exposed skull, it towered over Wick. It's giant metal wings, suspended above the thing and held fast to it's body by ancient divine magic came down to rest on it's back.\n\nWhen it spoke, a dirge could be heard, and it's thrumming voice silenced all else.\n\"SO. WICKREM FAS ORION. FINALLY YOU HAVE COME TO ME, WITH MORE IN TOW, HAVING INVITED SO MANY INTO MY GRIP ALREADY. GREETINGS.\"\n\nWick looked up at it. At this point he figured there was nothing left to lose, so he couldn't seem to muster up any fear of the thing. He put his hands on his hips.\n\"It was my pleasure, believe me. And you must be Death then. Charmed.\"\n\nThe hulking mass leaned in, and a dozen bone and machine hands pressed from within it onto the ground to support the weight.\n\"REALLY I HAVE BECOME A FAN OF YOUR WORK. ONE HUNDRED YEARS AND NOT A SINGLE WAR ANYWHERE. I WAS BECOMING SO BORED UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG. EVEN NOW I AM SPEAKING WITH THE OTHER CASUALTIES AT THIS SITE. EVERY ONE CURSES YOUR NAME. MANY OF HISTORY'S FAMOUS GENERALS HAVE TAKEN LESS LIVES AND EARNED FEWER DAMNATIONS.\"\n\nThe monster looked up at the sky, then back at Wick. It brought it's face close to his, and Wick looked for an unsettling moment into it's eyes, one the vacant hole of a skull, the other a shifting shimmering magical image of terror of half a face draped haphazardly.\n\"I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THE DELAY IN ESCORTING YOU TO SERVE YOUR CHOSEN GOD ON THE HEAVENLY BATTLEFIELD. I WANTED TO SPEAK WITH YOU ON SOME OF YOUR MOST HILARIOUS KILLS.\"\n\nWick looked away from the chilling face up at the sky and observed the orange and blue nebulous cloud covering most of the darkness.\n\"Yeah, that's cool for sure, since I have no intention of serving any of those asshats anything but their own stunningly attired asses. I don't do much in the way of serving, you understand. It's not really my thing.\"\n\n\"REALLY. I SUPPOSE I COULD JUST SHUNT YOU OUT SOMEWHERE UP THERE AND YOU CAN JUST DESTROY ANYTHING YOU SEE. YOU'LL PROBABLY DO WELL.\"\n\nWick sensed an opportunity.\n\"You could just put me back together down here again. I'll keep killing people for you. You know I will.\" he smiled.\n\n\"YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED HOW LITTLE SOMEONE ASKS THAT OF ME. MOST PEOPLE ARE PRETTY ENTHUSED ABOUT THE AFTERLIFE SCENE ONCE THEY GET HERE. MORE'S THE PITY. THE PROBLEM IS OF COURSE THAT THE GODS HATE IT IF I DO THAT. I GET TO PICK WHOMEVER I WANT IN MY OWN ARMY, BUT BELIEVE ME THAT IS NOT A FATE YOU WANT, AND IT IS NOT AN EQUIVALENT OF WHAT YOU ASK.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah? Death is afraid of a bunch of nancy gods? You realize you're talking to the guy who just blew up the Vatican. And speaking of which, where is old Dem anyway? Doesn't he want to come deliver divine punishment and whatnot? I'm struck awed by the power.\"\n\n\"THE DEM OUT HERE LIKELY DOES NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU DID. IT HAS PROBLEMS OF IT'S OWN. BUT YOU ARE CORRECT, IT COULD NOT KILL ME IN ANY CASE.\" Wick had to wrap his head around that answer for a second but pretty quickly moved on to the important point.\n\n\"So hey what does it have to take to convince you to let me do your bidding. I promise I'll send anyone you want back this way. I was just getting started sending people to meet their masters, believe me.\"\n\n\"HUMANS ARE UNRELIABLE. YOUR LUCK WAS IMPRESSIVE AND I HAVE ENJOYED WATCHING YOU KILL WITHOUT RELENT, BUT THAT LUCK HAS RUN OUT, AND TIME HAS BROUGHT YOU HERE TO ME. CHOOSE YOUR AFTERFATE.\"\n\n\"Out of luck, hey? I flipping think not. It wasn't my body that was lucky, friend, and besides there was more than a hint of mad skills down there.\"\n\n\"ANYTHING YOU COULD ACCOMPLISH I COULD AS WELL. YOU CAN SERVE ME IN NO WAY BEYOND MY AMUSEMENT.\"\n\n\"Come now that kind of hubris is unbecoming. I bet there's some things I can do that you can't. And I bet I'm better than you let on. In fact, you want to gamble on it?\"\n\nDeath reared back up to it's full dizzying height and gazed out into the sky above.\n\"INTERESTING. YOU HAVE COME FAR AND DONE MUCH, I CAN RESPECT HOW THIS WOULD SEEM AS JUST ANOTHER CHALLENGE TO YOU. EXCEPT YOU CANNOT HOPE TO BEAT DEATH ITSELF. I ALONE AMONGST ALL HOLD SWAY OVER ALL OTHER DOMAINS. WHILE EACH GOD IS MASTER OF ONE DOMAIN THAT DOMAIN IS TOO IT'S MASTER, AND YET I MOVE ACROSS ALL BATTLEFIELDS UNMASTERED, UNCONTESTED.\"\n\n\"Yeah true wow. Ok well how are you at playing a fiddle? Or like Euchre? No wait let's say Blackjack. Or Poker? Shit, how are you at Chess, Death?\"\n\nA moment passed.\n\n\"...WHAT THE FLIP IS CHESS.\"\n\n...\n\nWick awoke in the burning ruins, completely fine and in good health. He smiled, got up, dusted off, and strolled out of the smoke. People gasped and some started cursing his name and crying for his death. Wick reflected for a moment that this could all go pretty badly for him if anyone ever taught Death the actual rules of chess. Then he started shooting.", "#The First Game#\n\nDeath looked at the black and white chessboard and felt a glaze come over his eyes as his mind turned to a muddled puddle of anxiety. These new restrictions were going to put him out of business, and for the simple fact that he was too good at his job. \n\n\nIt really didn't have anything to do with him. Between global warming, Ebola, and that nuclear war between Pakistan and India, he'd been raking in souls like a fat kid at a jelly bean eating contest. Humans were just too fragile, and if they were gonna offer themselves up on a silver platter, why should he say no?\n\n\nBut, apparently, not everyone felt that way; the Boss upstairs had been quite clear. \"At this rate, the species will be extinct within the next century. It's time to change things up a little.\" \n\n\nIf He'd only said riddles, or Luchador wrestling, Death might have stood a chance. But chess... It was his own fault really. Millennia of existence and he'd never once attempted to learn chess. Set? Sure. Majong? You bet! But chess? After seeing the sprawling battles that had inspired the trivial past time, the strategic genius that it strove to imitate...well, frankly, he found it boderline offensive. And now he was forced to sit and play with every. Single. Soul that came up for grabs. He cricked his neck, and set his pale hand to a pawn. It didn't matter. He was death. He always won, in the end. Most of the time, anyway. He would learn this, just like he learned to catch souls reduced to microscopic particles in the wake of a nuclear warhead. Then again, he thought, moving the pawn with a slight frown, he still wasn't completely sure he'd got all of those. He probably had. And he definitely would going forward. The India-Pakistan incident had given him plenty of practice.\n\n\nHis opponent moved a pawn forward in response, one of the middle ones. Death allowed a small smile to creep up his lips. His opponents infantryman was a now at the mercy of his cavalry. They could strike swiftly, before any support could be brought up. He'd seen something similar happen near Acre in the 12th century. He was more than a little surprised. He knew this man had gone to the park near his home nearly everyday for twenty years. He would have expected him to be more adept in the basics of infantry based warfare. Still, he was elderly; perhaps it was his age catching up with him. Death gripped his left knight in a fist, and swing it at the pawn. It sailed across the ethreal room they sat in and bounced off the opaque wall.\n\n \n\nThe elderly man cut his eyes between the pawn and a triumphant death. \"What're you doing?\" \n\n\n\"Winning.\" Death replied smugly. \n\n\n\"Do you play chess differently after you die?\" \n\n\nDeath paused. \"Yes.\" \n\n\nThe old man crossed his arms over his chest. \"What're the rules?\" \n\n\nDeath paused again. \"Chess is the same.\"\n\n\n\"You don't know how to play?\"\n\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\nThe old man sat in that position, and studdied the board. \"Would you like me to teach you?\" He asked after awhile.\n\n\nDeath blinked. \"Teach me? Really?\"\n\n\nHis opponent nodded. \"Everyone should know how to play chess. Good for the mind, keeps it sharp, critical, two steps ahead...and it's fun.\"\n\n\nDeath shook his head, and sighed. \"Alright. Not like I have much of a choice.\"\n\n\nAnd so they played. A little at a time, starting with the basics. This piece moved like this, this one like that. Then the man showed him some strategies. Just simple ones, ones that tried to get to the king as quickly as possible. The man even showed Death some of his secrets, twists to even these simplistic gambits. He was a good teacher, stern, but he always told you exactly how you needed to improve. Death was so engrossed in the game's intricacies, that he was surprised when he realized that he was actually enjoying himself. The game was complex, challenging, something any immortal being finds irresistible. And the company was good too, something hard to find this side of life.\n\n\n\"And it's alright to lose this piece?\"\n\n\nThe man nodded. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n\"Sometimes you have to lose to progress.\" Death repeated now engrained mantra. \n\n\nThe old man smiled. \"Right. And now, see, this guy here...\" He took Death's hand and laid it on a knight. Gently, he guided it across the board into his king. \"He can checkmate.\" Death laughed, and rubbed his hands together. \"I got it! I got it. That might be my favorite one yet. Simple, but effective, especially against someone stupid.\" He looked up from the board. The man was pale, now the same tone as death. Death's smile faltered. \"Wha-...oh...\" The man gave a weak smile. \"Well, that wasn't a completely unpleasant way to spend my time here in purgatory. Thank you.\" \n\n\nDeath shook his head. \"I-I-I didn't mean to-\"\n\n\n\"I did.\" The old man sighed and reclined in his chair. He was started to become even paler. Death thought he could almost see through him now, like on of those strange, deep sea fish. \n\n\n\"Everyone has their time. And I always knew when mine came, I wouldn't beg. I've been blessed with eighty-six Death free years. It's my time now.\"\n\n\nDeath's face sagged. \"I'm...sorry.\" \n\n\n\"Don't be. You turned out to be a nice enough fellow. Remember what I taught you now.\"\n\n\nDeath nodded. And for the first time in centuries, his voice was husky. \"I will.\"\n\n\nThe old man nodded. \"Good. Good. Everyone should know how to play chess. Good for the mind, keeps it sharp, critical, two steps ahead...\"\n\n\nHe faded, like a mist in the morning sunlight. Death sat there, staring at the seat that had been filled moments earlier. Suddenly, the chess board reset itself. The old man's last move was erased. Everything returned to its starting position. A statacco voice spoke from above, filling the space around him. \"Next soul arriving, in, seven, minutes.\" Death just sighed, and moved a pawn forward. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"No, no, no.\" I clucked, annoyed.\n\"It's an L shape, like this.\" I demonstrated by moving the knight two spaces forward, and one to the left -- an empty square.\n\"So what captures diagonally?\"\n\"The pawn.\"\nDeath cocked his head to the side in the universal sign of confusion.\n\"This guy.\" I held up the round-headed pawn and then set it right back where it was on the board.\n\"Right ok.\" Death responded, re-evaluating his move. He sat in silence, cupping his chin in a wiry hand while tapping on his lip with a boney finger.\nHe had abandoned the knight altogether, and instead went with advancing his rook from behind the backline of his formation to get it a little more exposure to my pieces. \nI had patiently planned my next three moves while Death was trying to wrap his head around how some of the pieces captured differently.\nI advanced a pawn, putting him in line with the newly threatening rook, but protected on the flank by the bishop positioned diagonally from him.\n\nDeath immediately rushed his rook forward to the middle of the board, and knocked over my pawn. He palmed it, smiled at me and gently set it on the side of the table next to his coffee.\n\nIn likewise speed, I knocked over his rook with my bishop and set his rook next to the other three captured pieces on my side of the board. Two pawns, one knight. Death himself had all of two pawns.\n\nHe frowned, and sucked some air between his teeth. \"Do over?\" He asked.\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\"Damn. Ok.\" He resigned, slouching back over the board.\n\nI furrowed my brow and reached over to have a sip of coffee. It was still pretty hot, and it didn't taste too acidic. Death was even nice enough to provide some milk and sugar, which sat unused in the no-man's land on the table between us.\n\n\"Hey uh, Death?\" I asked. He grunted back at me, gently fondling his King's crown while trying to come to a decision.\n\"Have you ever played chess?\"\n\nHe accidentally knocked over his king and set him back upright. \"Erm. No, actually.\"\n\n\"I thought that was like a thing though.\" I ventured, taking another sip of coffee. \"I mean, don't people get to challenge you to a game?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah.\" He admitted. \"But mostly you have people too busy crying their eyes out to actually make a challenge. Shoot, if you can't even use your words it's not my fault you get shipped off to Elysium. Or wherever. They change it often.\"\n\nHe advanced a pawn and leaned back in his faded red leather wingback, grabbing his coffee and saucer and taking a drink. Weird to think Death drank coffee like an Englishman drinks tea.\n\"So, what happens when I win then?\"\n\nDeath sighed, watching his pawn get out-manuevered by my bishop. I set the piece aside and looked up at him, idly seeking out my own coffee with a groping hand.\n\n\"Eh, I'll send you back. You'll probably wake up in a hospital bed, if it hasn't been too long that they've sent you home already to live out a coma or somethin.\" He absent-mindedly moved his queen out towards the center of the board, where it got subsequently captured by my knight guarding the front. He shrugged, and took another sip of coffee.\n\n\"So what happens next time?\" I asked.\n\n\"Next time? Shoot. Well, you'll probably challenge me to Chess again knowing you'll probably win, and then I'll send you back.\"\n\nI blinked, \"Isn't that like -- wait you're cool with me just being able to cheat death?\"\n\nHe stiffened and sat up in his chair, \"Woah woah woah.\" He leaned in close and I could see the strangely colored veins in his eyes. \"Cheat?\" He leaned even closer and I felt a physical twisting in my insides.\n\n\"Are you trying to cheat death?\"\n\nI could feel the words slither into my nose and eyes like an icy wind, and I shivered down from my spine.\n\n\"No.\" I whispered, through gritted teeth. \"I a-- I am not cheating.\" I blurted, then sat up straight to look Death in his hollow eyes.\n\n\"Good.\" He snorted and relaxed, moving yet another one of his pieces into a terrible position, only to be taken once more.\n\n\"I mean.\" I ventured again. \"What happens when you come for me, and then I beat you, and then you come for me again, and I beat you?\"\nI took a sharp breath. \"Doesn't that mean I'll get to live forever?\" \n\nDeath's wrinkled mouth broke into a toothy grin, and he begun to chortle before it devolved into full-blown laughter. I sat in silence, wary of the old figure until he had calmed down.\n\n\"What, you want to live to be a hundred and twenty four and keep living?\" He asked.\nI opened my mouth and then paused.\nDeath continued, \"You realize how much of the human body starts falling apart at that age? You won't remember half a damn, you'll be pissing yourself hourly, you'll feel your skeleton moving inside your body. Shoot, it's awful.\"\n\nI slumped back in my chair, chewed my lip and then reached for my coffee and after a long sip, shrugged.\n\"I guess that's fair.\" I admitted.\n\n\"Everyone dies in the end.\" Death agreed, as I finally positioned my pieces to lock in his king and declare a final victory.\n\n\"Even if you're good at chess.\" He smiled toothily, and stood up, holding out his hand. \"Come along now. Time to get back to the waking life.\"\n\nI took it.", "Death drew smiley faces in a small pile of salt as he sat in the corner booth of the cafe sipping on a cinnamon dolce and waiting for his older brother Terry to show up.\n\n\"Wussup bro?\", Terry delivered a solid slap to the back of his brother's head, causing him to knock all the teeth out of his salt portrait.\n\n\"Jesus, Terry... did you seriously sneak through the door just so you could do that? What if I had been eating something and you caused me to choke?\"\n\n\"Good one huh?\" Terry gave an upward headnod and pointed to the waitress across the room, \"I got Cheryl over there to hold the spring on the door so it wouldn't slam.\" Terry tapped the side of his head with his index finger, \"Gotta keep you on your toes little brother.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait - here put some napkins down before you get that stuff all over the place.\" Death pushed the cheap plastic dispenser over toward his brother. Terry was still in his torn jean shorts that were now splattered with lavender and off-white. He had been busy painting his garage when Death asked him to swing by for a bit.\n\n\"Hey, give your big brother a little credit how 'bout it?\" said Terry with his arms stretched wide and his mouth agape, \"It's dry - has been for almost twenty minutes now. Nothin' to worry about.\"\n\nAs he slid across the booth opposite his brother, he left pale blue streaks on the maroon leather cushion.\n\n\"Dammit Terry, look what you did! You know they're gonna blame me for this right?\"\n\n\"Nobody's blaming anybody here, just chill out man...\" Terry tried to console him.\n\n\"What are you talking about? It's always me that gets blamed,\" the caffeine was starting to kick in now, Death's hand began to shake a little as he got more agitated, \"You know the Robinson's just down the street right?\"\n\nTerry nodded as he picked up a menu and flipped to the burgers.\n\n\"Well, last week their dog gets hit by the mail truck, and guess who get's the evil eye now? Not the mailman, no siree, it's gotta be my fault. My whole life is a game of 'shoot the messenger'\".\n\n\"To be fair, bro,\" Terry lifted his eyes off the Barbecue Onionater photo long enough to make quote signs with his fingers, \"you don't just 'deliver messages'. You showed up and ripped the soul out of their Boston terrier.\"\n\n\"He was dying... that's what I do.\" said Death with more sarcasm than necessary, \"It's important work. Work that should be respected.\"\n\n\"Look, as much as I would like to sit here and hear about the struggles and trials of a narcissistic, pseudo-demigod, Patricia will be home at 5:30 and I damn well better have the garage finished - her words, not mine.\"\n\n\"Alright, alright, \" Death reached over to the box that sat next to him in the booth and laid it square on the table in front of him. \"This is the reason I asked you to come over.\"\n\n___\n\n\"You want me to paint that box?\" said Terry.\n\n\"No, you idiot.\" Death opened the latches and spilled the contents out onto the table. \"I need you to teach me how to play this game.\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, whoa...\" Terry grinned, \"you mean to tell me that you don't know how to play chess?\"\n\n\"Look if you're gonna make a big deal about it...\"\n\n\"No, I just mean... come on, Death plays chess with everybody. You hear about it all the time.\"\n\n\"No. No he doesn't, I assure you.\" \n\nDeath didn't like the idea of turning to his brother for help, but he wasn't exactly in a position to pick and choose allies at the moment. Besides, Terry had played chess in college and was quite good. Even won a couple of tournaments. \n\n\"Ah, I get it now, \" said Terry as he rubbed his handlebar mustache, \"it's the knight isn't it? The one that's been bangin' your ex?\"\n\n\"He...\" Death began to stammer, \"he didn't 'bang' Regina as you so crudely put it. Alright, maybe this was a bad idea.\" He began to put pieces back into the box.\n\n\"Hold on,\" said Terry, \"I'm sorry alright?\"\n\nDeath stopped putting pieces in the box and looked down at the table.\n\n\"I'll help you out. What's a big brother for?\"\n\nDeath sat still for a moment, then gently nodded his head and said, \"Thanks, Terry.\"\n\n\"But first, let's get some grub.\" With one hand, Terry waved the waitress over to the table and with the other he began setting up the board.\n\n___\n\n(Twenty minutes later...)\n\nTerry was finishing off his cheeseburger as he quizzed Death.\n\n\"So if Sir Asshole castles you , what does that mean?\" \n\n\"Castle... castle...\" Death was whispering to himself as he looked up at the ceiling of the diner, \"Oh, right, Castling is when you do this.\"\n\nDeath proceeded to place his hands on either side of the board and shuffle it from side-to-side.\n\n\"Exactly,\" said Terry, \"But remember, you can only shuffle the pieces for up to 3 seconds, if you go any longer than that you have to pawn something.\"\n\n\"How do I do that again?\" asked Death.\n\n\"See these little dudes?\" Terry put his finger over one of the pawns. \"You've heard of pawns in chess right?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah, sorta. It's the only thing I have heard of.\" Death confessed.\n\n\"Ok, well, it's called a pawn cause that's what you do. You pawn them off for stuff you need.\"\n\n\"Ohhhhh that makes so much sense!\" Death put his hands together and gave a couple of little excited claps.\n\n\"So, you need a Queen? You just pawn your pawn and get a queen.\"\n\n\"And since the queen is really the king in drag, I'll have another Drag Queen, right?\" asked Death.\n\n\"Right you are friendo,\" Terry gave hims a thumbs up, \"then you just drag - hence the name - the queen all over the board knocking all the other pieces around.\"\n\n\"Wow, this game is a lot more physical than I originally thought. Now, once all the pieces - \"\n\n\"Uh uh... \" Terry wagged his finger at his brother scolding him.\n\n\"Oh sorry, \" Death apologize, \"Not pieces - Wigglywams. Once all the Wigglywams are on the floor, I make my index finger and thumb into the shape of a little pistol and 'shoot' my opponent. Is that it?\"\n\n\"You got it. That's called the Fingerbang, and don't forget to say 'pew, pew, pew' three times. Go ahead, try it out.\"\n\nA small child walked by the table and gave a curious look to Death as he pointed his finger into the air and said pew, pew, pew.\n\nTerry looked on with pride at his younger brother.\n\n\"Brother, when you sit down to play this knight , he's never gonna know what hit him.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "People tell you about life flashing before your eyes, near death experiences, a light at the end of the tunnel as you're dying. That's all bullshit. I know because Death told me himself.\n\n\n\"You're not the first one to plea for your life. The soul has but a few threads left to cut.\"\n\n\n\"A game! I'm supposed to be able to challenge you to a game to keep on living.\"\n\n\n\"You're not the first one to do that either. But I accept. Your choice of game, but it will not change your fate.\"\n\n\nAnd so I challenged him to chess. Setting one side of the board with ethereal pieces that kept flickering in and out of my perception. I made the first move. And then Death made his. He took his King and smashed it into mine. A swirling light danced around the board as every piece drained of color. In fact a whole rainbow seemed to be flying into death's palm. His reaper's cloth became all colors at once. My king exploded into fragments.\n\n\"Checkmate.\"\n\n\n\"B-but that's not how it works. That's against the rules!\"\n\n\n\"In the afterlife I'm afraid things work differently. In the time it took to set up the game and for you to make the first move, you were already buried underground, your physical being a meal for worms and rot. Even if you were to somehow win, the life you wished to return to is impossible. I do not know how to play chess, but I do know that as soon as you entered into my realm your destiny was secured. So many pretend to have glimpsed here; this infinite sanctum of formless soul, they fantasize, claim to have 'seen the light' or grasped on to life to come back. Nobody who sees me gets to bargain.\"\n\n\nI slumped. \"Anything I could have done couldn't have changed it? Nothing I say matters at this point does it?\"\n\n\n\"Everything you say matters. It just doesn't concern whatever lump of flesh to which it was once attached. I know you feel some fleeting attachment to that form, but rest assured, your existence is far from over.\" \n\n\nHe handed me a pair of scissors. And pointed to a few strings that I had not previously noticed. One attached to my hands, another to my neck and few where I could not see their ends.\n\n\n\"No one who meets me ever lives in their old bodies, but many do not have the strength to wrestle themselves free. I take nothing. Free yourself from your old life whenever you see fit. There will be many waiting for you when you do.\"\n\nHis rainbow cloak vanished along with the chessboard full of monochrome parts leaving me to my decision. No lights, no games, no stories. Just a binary decision and the tools to carry it out.\n\n\nDeath doesn't know how to play chess. He plays another game in which there is only one move and one choice.", "Contract killer. Assassin. Mercenary. Bounty hunter. \n\nCall it what you will. It's a lonely living extinguishing life. \n\nI hadn’t noticed Death at first, hovering on the fringes. Killing the unnatural was messy work. Their blood coated my hands and clothing, the walls and floor. They struggled more than humans. Clinging to their extended life lines, pouring centuries of rage and determination into the fight. \n\nA sage witch, sentenced to die for cursing virgins, had been the first to point him out. \n\n“He waits for you, too,” she cackled, throwing a handful of herbs and bones at me. \n\nShe didn’t flinch as I fire point blank into her skull. She exploded, a cacophony of maggots and putrid blood. \n\nI gagged. Witches were always so overdramatic in their moment of death. \nAnd there he stood, unaffected by the mire of bodily fluids. The cowl of the black cape was too deep to even hint at a face. But the black leather of his coat and pants left little to circumspect. He was tall and lanky, but hardly bone thin. He waited, the scythe causally resting across his shoulders. \n\nI reloaded the gun.\n\n“Is this like Santa; If I kill you I become you?” I asked as causally as I could manage.\n\nDeath was eerie in his stillness. No breaths whispered through the air, there was no slight repositioning or fidgeting. \n\nI lifted the hand gun, focusing on his head. Hopefully he was less messy than the witch. \n\nA black shadow burst from where the hag’s body had fallen, alarmingly long talons reaching for me.\n\nDeath swirled the scythe from his shoulders, beheading the shadow, before I could twitch. \n\nThen he was standing in front of me. The barrel of my gun pressed into surprisingly corporeal flesh, and he flicked on the safety.\n\nThe scythe swung back over his shoulder and his disappeared. \n\nDeath started to appear every time I killed someone. And then sometimes when I hadn’t. He would appear in my living room, reading one of the many treasured books that I hauled no matter where I moved. He never spoke, even when provoked. \n\nI had been restless in the small apartment, the Dakota winter too fiercely cold to venture out, the sky too dreary to give the short day a sense of purpose. It was midafternoon and I hadn’t changed out of what I had slept in. \n\nDeath appeared crosslegged on the floor in front of my bookcase. \n\n“Most people call or knock,” I grumbled, “or at least yell ‘Yoowhoo’ before invading.” \n\nDeath ignored me and pulled out my favorite book, flipping to a quarter way in. \nFrustrated, bored and severely wanting to start a fight with an unnatural being that would surely kick my ass into the afterlife, I rummaged through the box of crap next to the couch. \n\nI had never bothered to unpack. Some people refused to see the difference between killing a werewolf and killing a person. \n\nI ruffled through notebooks filled with worthless doodles and thoughts I didn’t have the balls to toss, a few loose tools and a deck of cards. \n\nOn a snap decision, I dealt out two hands for Madam, flicking the cards next to Death. \n\n“Look at that. Queen of Spades, Queen of Hearts and a 2. You’re ethereal ass is about to be handed to you.”\n\nDeath continued to ignore me, but he had tilted his head toward me. \n\nI discarded the hand and reshuffled the cards I could reach. \n\n“We can play Go Fish if that’s more your speed,” I offered as condescendingly as possible. \n\nHe was across the room before I could come up with another asshole comment. \nHe took off his gloves, revealing paper white skin, marked with purple scars, and grabbed the cards from me. \n\nThe cards were a blur as he shuffle and dealt out five cards. \n\nI peeked at my cards, a flush. \n\n“Let’s gamble a bit.”\n\nNo response.\n\n“If I win, you drop the hood.”\n\nHis head titled to the side, like a deadly, but curious, puppy.\n\n“If you win, well, fuck. I don’t actually know what you’d want. But you can’t have my what's left of my soul.”\n\nA small sigh fluttered his cowl. \n\n“If I win…” his voice was startlingly smooth, “you will play a game with me every week until you die.”\n\nI grinned and flipped my cards. He held the cards out uncertainly. \n\nDeath had crap for cards. \n\nI smiled and wink, “Strip.”\n\nDeath didn’t hesitate as he flipped back the hood. \n\nTurns out, the Death didn’t have reason to be shy. \n\nAn unruly shock of silver hair stuck up in random places, presumably from cowl hair. His face was just as paper pale as his hands had been, but there weren’t any scars. His nose had clearly been broken once though. Death scowled slightly at my scrutiny. \n\nI shrugged. \n\n“Do you actually know how to play, play poker?”\n\nHe worked his jaw, “No.”\n\n“Do you know how to play any game?”\n\nHis eyes slid past me. \n\n“Alright. Let’s start with something more controllable. Chess or Go Fish. Your choice.”\n\nHis icy blue eyes deepened to straight black as he glared.\n \n“Righto, chess it is.”\n", "The blood was still dripping from the large kitchen knife as Death leaned toward the shifting soul of the young girl who had just committed suicide. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her before summoning a chess board between them. He quietly arranged the pieces and motioned her to sit. The girl looked at Death with confusion and slowly sat down. \n\n\"What are you doing? Are'nt you supposed to take me now?\" \n\nDeath glanced up and held her gaze. \"I'm giving you the chance to win back Life.\"\n\nThe girl stared incredulously at Him. \"Are you serious?\" She held out her shroudy arms covered in deep cuts. \"Do you see these? Does it look like I want to live?!\" \n\n\"Let's just say that I'm feeling generous today\"\n\n\"I don't care, I'm not going to play.\"\n\nDeath peered into her eyes with a piercing stare. \"If you knew the things I did about your potential...well this,\" He motioned to the cuts, \"Would never have happened.\" \n\n\"You can see my life?\" \n\n\"To see death, one must also see life. That's how I know who's ready to go and who isn't, and you my dear have more life than you give yourself credit for.\" \n\nThe girl looked down in silence and quietly cried. \n\n\"You have a slight advantage you know. I never learned how to properly play this game.\"\n\nThe girl looked up and whispered, \"I don't know how to play either.\"\n\n\"Well the odds are even then. I believe you should go first.\"\n\n\"But, we don't know the rules.\"\n\nDeath pondered quietly for a moment. \"Well I suppose we'll just have to make up our own. Your move.\"\n\nNeither won the game, but Death gave her back her life. For Death is not a cruel taker of life, but merely the angel who ferries the lost souls from their bodies to their final home when their time comes, or who gives back that life which some have momentarily lost sight of. \n\n ", "######[](#dropcap)\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir. That's not how this works.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, that's not how this works?\" The man was belligerent. The Grim Reaper leaned his scythe against the door and walked toward the man's hospital bed.\n\n\"You see, there's not actually any way to challenge me for your life. Those are all just stories. People really got carried away with the concept a few thousand years ago. But the truth is, when you're done, you're done. I'm sorry.\"\n\nHe meant it sincerely. The man (whose name was Frederick) hemmed and hawed at this for a bit. His spirit sat down on the side of the bed, next to his body.\n\n\"I can tell you're upset.\"\n\n\"I need more time.\" Frederick put his head in his hands. \"I'm not ready to go. I can't...\"\n\nThe Grim Reaper sat down next to Frederick and put his skeleton arm over Frederick's shoulders. \"This is never easy for me. It was a bad rumor that got out of hand. I wish it had never started.\"\n\nFrederick sobbed.\n\nDeath sighed, placing his skeleton fingers on his skeleton chin. \"Alright, where's your chessboard?\"\n\nFrederick looked up. \"Really?\"\n\n\"You don't get to win anything, okay? But I have an hour to kill and you need to calm down. Death really isn't all that bad. You just need to get used to it.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Do you have a chessboard here?\"\n\n\"Um... no.\"\n\n\"Alright, hold on.\" The Grim Reaper reached into his robe and pulled out a large scroll. He unfurled it on the bedside table and pressed his skeleton fingers into the paper. Eventually an image of a chessboard appeared.\n\n\"There. It's like a touchscreen.\" Death pulled up a chair as Frederick settled himself on the side of the bed. \"I've never really played, you know.\"\n\nFrederick's head snapped upward. \"You haven't?\"\n\n\"Not really.\"\n\n\"I thought you would have taken thousands of chess players by now. You should be some kind of chess genius.\"\n\n\"I'm not the only Grim Reaper.\" Death scratched his head. \"Besides, I'm more of a music guy.\"\n\n\"You're not the only one?\"\n\n\"Oh, there's millions.\" He offered his hand to shake. \"My name's Dan, by the way.\"\n\n\"It's, um, nice to meet you.\" Frederick shook Dan's hands hesitantly, staring at the bones. Dan stared at the chessboard. \"Do you at least know the basics?\"\n\n\"I guess so. I know how most of the pieces move.\"\n\n\"Well, let's just play then,\" Frederick said breezily. \"I'll let you know if you do something wrong.\"\n\nDan did many things wrong. But eventually he got the hang of the game. He lost with his king walled in more with his own pieces than Frederick's.\n\n\"Huh.\" Dan stared at the board. \"So, that's checkmate. Do you want to play again?\"\n\nFrederick hesitated. \"What happens when I die?\"\n\n\"I can't just tell you. It's really a learning process.\"\n\nFrederick sighed. \"Well... Let's get this over with, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Okay, then.\" Death moved his chair back against the wall and put his scroll back in his robe. \"All you have to do is hold onto the scythe. Are you ready?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nDan picked up the scythe from where he left it, then walked over to Frederick.\n\n\"You know, sometimes I wish people could challenge me to a game for their life,\" he said as Frederick put his hands around the scythe. \"It would sure make this job a lot more interesting.\"", "Death entered Milford House through the wall. He felt nothing as he passed through the barrier. In fact, it had been a long time since he felt anything at all. Probably since before Jeanie left. And yes, all of his friends had been saying he should just get over it and stop spending all his free time, which, considering death is an ethereal being, is infinite, on watching the saddest movies from around the universe and weeping openly in the only shower in the apartment. Go somewhere, they said. Meet new people. Put it all into your job. Nothing worked. \n\nDeath had two marks on his list. This happened almost constantly and not at all. Time worked differently for death. Likely it still does, but for the rest of us, it's finite, so we have tenses. He went to the first person on his list. She lay in a hospital bed in room dark save one dusty lamp that cast an elliptical pool of light over the old woman. A tube ran from her throat to a machine. In a chair next to the old woman, another woman, slightly less old, though death had some trouble discerning age since he himself was ageless. He knew though, because being death has some advantages, that the slightly less old woman was the old woman's daughter. A woman teetering on the edge of poverty with two children in high school. Blech. Who cares? \n\nDeath waited. The slightly younger woman was praying. The she took a pillow out from behind the older woman's head and pressed it over her face. Death watched seconds pass on the clock. A minute. He leaned forward and touched the old woman's leg. Instantly, a little girl, about age eight, stood next to him. She watched the scene with wet eyes. \"Am I dead?\" she said. \n\nDeath nodded. He pointed without speaking. It didn't matter where he pointed. Wherever she walked led to the other side. \n\n\"How come I'm young again?\" the girl asked. \n\nDeath shrugged and shooed her towards the door. \n\nHe left the crying woman and the girl with wet eyes and went to see Braxton. The second name on his list. He wandered through the rooms, looking at framed photos, war mementos. In some ways, Jeanie was still there. She'd never left. Her things were in his apartment and not in his apartment. He could go to the time when they were together, but in this part of his long, drawn out existence, she felt distant. Even that word is not close enough to the way Death felt, but for us finites, it is the closest approximation. Besides, at best, the pain someone feels fits on us like a shoe many sizes too large, still warm and sweat-damp from the previous wearer. He misses her, even though she is there. He loves her and hates her and misses her and feels everything he's ever felt all at once. \n\nDeath arrived in Braxton's room just as he'd finished setting out a chessboard. Death watches as the man picked up each piece and examined it in the light. He rubbed each with a soft cloth. They were cut from glass. The board, too; the squares had been etched on.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" death said. \n\nBraxton seemed unfazed by the question. He didn't even jump. \"Is it tonight?\" he said. \n\nDeath nodded.\n\nBraxton motioned to the board. \"Will you play?\"\n\n\"It won't change anything,\" Death said. \n\n\"What if I win?\" \n\nDeath shrugged. \"It isn't something I'm doing. It's something you are. It's something that is.\" \n\n\"Five minutes,\" Braxton said. \"Play me for five minutes. If I win in five minutes, you'll give me extra time.\"\n\n\"How did you know I was coming?\" \n\nBraxton opened his mouth then closed it. \"I felt it,\" he said, patting his chest with an open palm.\n\n\"That's not intuition,\" Death said. \"It's just the way you were pressed. You expire soon.\" \n\n\"Five more minutes,\" Braxton said. \n\nDeath nodded. \n\n\"And I'll get more time?\"\n\nDeath shrugged.\n\nBraxton swallowed. \"Do you know how to play?\" \n\nDeath lifted the tallest piece from the back row and looked at it. He knew it was carved from a piece of volcanic glass in what the finites were calling Oregon now. The glass had been many other things in many other worlds many other times, but now it was a called a queen. \"I never learned,\" he said. \n\nBraxton explained the pieces. Pawns move one or two forward, attack diagonally. knights move in strange 'L' shapes. Rooks go forward. The king moves one space at a time. The corners of his mouth had filled with white bits of spittle. Death nodded each time the old man pointed to something new. \n\n\"You can go first,\" Braxton said. \n\nDeath moved a pawn near the two forward. Braxton mirrored his move. Death moved the pawn next to it two forward. Braxton took it. Death moved another pawn forward. \n\n\"Why,\" Death said, \"is the queen the best piece?\" \n\n\"Because she has mobility?\" Braxton said. \"I never thought about it. She just is.\" \n\nDeath nodded. He thought of Jeanie. Always leaving. Always coming. Always around. Never around. The world Braxton lived in had no true binaries, and yet, it was impossibly structured around them. Good and evil. Light and Dark. It made sense, the finites experienced sunset and sunrise, which they took as a binary, though it wasn't, not quite. In his life, if we want to call it that, he experienced sunup and sundown in every moment. \n\n\"Why do any of the pieces move the way they do?\"\n\n\"What?\" Braxton said. He slid a pawn forward and took another of death's pawns. \"Do you remember how the bishops work?\" \n\nDeath slid another pawn two spaces forward. \"Do you know what a record looks like?\" \n\nBraxton lifted a piece and held it above the board. \"A record? Like for music?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \n\nBraxton nodded. \"My parents had a few when I was a child. I haven't seen them in years,\" he said. \n\n\"You understand the concept though?\" \n\n\"I think so,\" he said. He set the piece down, mirroring death's piece. \n\n\"Where do the songs live?\" \n\n\"I don't follow,\" Braxton said. \n\n\"On a record, where do the songs live?\" \n\n\"In the grooves? In the bumps?\" Braxton said.\n\n\"Or do they live in your mind?\" \n\n\"What?\" \n\nDeath reached out and selected his queen. He pushed it forward, through the line of pawns ahead of it and crashed it into the ranks of white pawns. Braxton pulled his hands back as if the air was suddenly hot and full of bees. Death slid the queen until she knocked over Braxton's king.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" \n\n\"A song doesn't get to choose how long it is. A song is pressed into the record. It plays when the needle moves over it. The last note in each song doesn't get to ask for more time. It plays as it's played, then it ceases.\" \n\nDeath grabbed Braxton's hand. It went limp and he tumbled to the floor, sprawling the board and pieces everywhere, save the black queen, which death held in his hand. The young man who instantaneously stood next him opened his mouth in a wide 'O' of fear. \n\n\"You said I'd have more time,\" Braxton said. \n\nDeath shrugged. He tucked the black queen into the fold of his robe. \"It's not something I give or take. It is simply the end.\" \n\nBefore Braxton could say anything more, Death was at home, in the shower. He was watching sad films on his laptop and eating Cheerios from the box. He felt Jeanie all around him and not at all. He wept, he weeps, but he never smiles. He set the chess piece with a billion other trinkets he's collected over the course of time. The black queen sits, collecting dust, and she also sits in the hand of her owner. She is encased in rock. She expands and explodes. She became molten and roiled in the earth. She is a star. She is chess piece. She is never coming back, he thinks. He is back in the shower. He is in Braxton's room. The record, world, the universe; we all spin on.", "He was dead. Totally, utterly, hopelessly dead. \n\nHe found himself on an endless shoreline that embraced the horizon at both ends, with a tide that silently rocked back and forth as if having an episode.\n\n\"Hello?\" he called out to the tide. There was no answer, not even an echo. He turned on his heels and surveyed the surroundings. Behind him was a second shore, equally endless, with a tide as hopeless as the previous. He stood on a limitless stream of sand between two infinite waters.\n\n\"Shit,\" he proclaimed with finality.\n\nHe heard someone cough politely to his right. A robed figure was sat by a small, round table with fold out legs, setting down a stack of board games. It had no discernable gender, or skin for that matter, but pale white bone, and deep, empty sockets where its eyes would have been.\n\n\"Skeletor?\" The deceased man asked the figure. The figure dropped the board games unceremoniously and sighed. It's skull quivered, as if trying to compensate for the lack of eyes to roll, before it spoke. \"Why,\" it hissed, \"does everyone of your age always say that?\"\n\nIt stood to it's full length, and was of an enviable height. \"I am Death.\"\n\n\"Larry,\" the deceased man responded. \n\"No, not Larry, Death.\" Death snapped back. \n\"No, I'm Larry,\" said Larry. \n\"Oh, right, of course you are, I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away there, you know how it is.\" \n\nDeath took his seat again and crossed his legs. \"Want to sit, Larry?\" He gestured at the empty chair opposite to him. Larry did, and glanced at the board games. All the classics were there; Risk, Monopoly, Carcassone, Checkers, Chess, even Jenga.\n\n\"We're going to play a game, Larry. Just to pass the time.\" said Death. \n\n\"For what?\" Larry asked. \n\"What do you mean for what?\" \n\"Well, is it, like, for my soul or something?\" \nDeath chuckled. \"No, of course not, we don't do that anymore.\" \n\"Why not?\" \nDeath sighed again, cold wind whistling through his nostril cavity. \"Management didn't like it. There were... complications.\" \n\"Did people win?\" \nDeath nodded morosely. \n\"Often?\" \nA beat, and Death nodded again. \n\"You must really suck at this-\" \n\"DEATH DOES NOT SUCK AT THIS!\" Death roared.\n\nSilence fell over the beach again.\n\n\"I just... don't know how to play chess. And ever since that Bergman asshole, that's all that anyone wanted to play.\" He buried his cadaverous face in his boney palms.\n\n\"Why even offer it as an option then?\" Larry asked, gesturing at the pile of games. \"Why not just play the ones you know you can win?\"\n\n\"We're not allowed to cheat. Death has to be merciless, but fair. No cheating, no limitless loans from the bank in Monopoly, not even an extra turn in Risk. Everyone needs to have an option on the game, and since people are living longer and longer every year, we have to keep both classics and new things around. It takes forever just to learn the rules. I mean, just yesterday they were talking about making us learn Arkham Horror - have you seen the size of that manual?\" Death shook his head in dismay. \"This job. This fucking job.\" \n\nLarry thought about this for a second. \"Who's we?\" \n\"We, me and the other Deaths.\" \n\"Other deaths?\" \n\"Like how there isn't just one Santa, or one God.\" \n\"Santa's real?\" \n\"Oh, that's the part you're going to take issue with.\"\n\nDeath stretched himself and gazed upward. Larry looked up, and saw above him not constellations, but a third ocean, tranquil, far out in the distance, with thousands of islands, and sand streams, with thousands of lit fires, and even more people, each playing a final game with their own personal Death.\n\n\"You weren't kidding.\" \n\"Death doesn't kid.\" \n\"So why even do this anymore? If there isn't a catch, or anything to win?\" \n\"Dying is really scary. So instead of just throwing you right into what comes next - no, don't even ask, I'm not telling - we, some of the guys at the office, thought that instead of that, we'd have a moment together with you. Just a moment, really, all this happens before your body has even gone cold, and offer a chance to see that it's not all bad.\"\n\nLarry shifted in his chair. \"Does everyone get this option?\" \nDeath nodded. \"Even the bad ones. But they don't get an option on the game. That much we bend the rules.\" \n\"So what do they play?\" \n\"Mary Kings Riding Star.\" \n\nLarry sized up the board games, and glanced at the ocean sky again. He could make out the multiple Deaths and their guests, laughing, talking smack, some crying, others like they were visiting an old friend. \n\n\"Which one is your favorite?\" Larry finally asked.\nDeath looked puzzled. Larry gestured at the stack of games. \"The one you like most.\"\n\n\"We're not supposed to-\"\nLarry waved his hand. \"Bahbahbahbah, come on.\"\nDeath leaned forward, a skeletal hand on his cheekbone, and whispered. \"I always preferred Risk.\"\n\nLarry smiled. \"Risk it is.\"", "David scratched at his head. They always wanted to play games when it was their time. He didn't mind, not really. His job could be lonely at times, and if anything it was nice to have a conversation about something other than the meaning of it all, but he really needed to stop letting them pick the game.\n\n“So, this one here,” He dangled a small wooden tower from his thin fingers, “this is called the Rook? Is that correct?”\n\nOpposite him, Tyler sat with his arms crossed. When he died, he had expected someone different. Well, if he were to be honest, he hadn't expected anything, but if there was supposed to be something, David wasn't it. The Grim Reaper was supposed to be a tall, hooded figure with empty sockets for eyes and long bony fingers. It was supposed guide you towards the beyond, scythe in hand, and explain to you the mysteries of the universe.\n\nDavid reminded him of his old accountant.\n\nHe was tall, sure, but not imposingly so and he barely looked like he would be capable of reaping a gerbil, let alone a person. He wore a loose black suit, pressed in all the wrong places, with a dark scarlet tie hanging limply from his neck. When he smiled, Tyler imagined a row of tombstones, crooked and chipped. \n\n“Yes.” Tyler said.\n\n“It looks nothing like a bird.” David's hands hovered over the pieces on the board, carefully picking up and inspecting each one, before returning them to their positions. \n\n“It's not supposed to. Are you sure you know how to play?” \n\nDavid waved a hand dismissively, staring at his King. “Yes, yes. Played thousands of times. All the greats. It has just been a while.”\n\nThe room was small and lined with bookshelves. Loose papers and half-empty hourglasses were scattered about every surface and David's desk was stained by rings of coffee cups. It had been the first thing Tyler asked about. I don't get much sleep. And I like the taste of it. Would you like some?\n\nThe coffee was terrible, but coffee was coffee.\n\nTaking a sip from his cup, Tyler leaned forward. “Should we begin then? You've been looking at the pieces an awful long time.”\n\n“Time is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Everyone and everything has a time. Yours will come soon enough.” He never lifted his face, instead focusing entirely on his knight. “I will move my knight.”\n\n“But, I'm white.” Tyler said.\n\nDavid looked up, staring at him. “I hardly see why that matters.”\n\n“Well,” he said, “white moves first. That's the rule.”\n\n“I know the rules.” David waved his hand, his pieces a stark alabaster compared to Tyler's own obsidian. “I will move my knight.”\n\nTyler pushed his pawn forward, raising an eyebrow as David did the same in return. Another pawn, another mirror. The bishop, the same. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “May I ask a question?” \n\nDavid looked over the board, and then at the boy. He was young, not a child, but young. Old enough to know his position, but naive enough to believe there was a way out of it. He would use the game as a lesson. Mirror his movements precisely, make him feel as if no matter what move he made, it would lead nowhere. Then, when he was properly frustrated, David would strike with his Knight. He particularly liked that piece. It reminded him of his own horse. \n\nBest of all, David thought, was that the boy never needed to know that he had no idea what he was doing. “You may,” he said.\n\n“Could we, well,” Tyler scratched as his neck, looking about the room, “could we play a different game? Checkers, perhaps?”\n\nDavid clapped his hands together. Checkers was a game he understood. “Are you saying you forfeit? Have you realized how fruitless your endeavors are in the grand scheme of things? Do you feel as if you are but a small, insignificant speck lost amongst the stars of your universe?” He smiled, like a parent would to a child. “It is alright to feel that way. That is how they all feel, in the end. I am here to help with that.”\n\n“No.” Tyler said flatly. “I just thought you might enjoy playing something different. That's all.”\n\nDavid leaned back in his seat. “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.” \n\n“You're doing a fine job.” \n\n“Excuse me?” David raised an eyebrow.\n\n“You know, the whole Death thing. I just wanted you to know. You're doing fine.”\n\nDavid stood, the full measure of him at once visible to Tyler. Robes fluttered from his suit, trailing out along the floor and creeping up the walls, and his eyes sunk into crevices in his skull. He was the size of the room now and the darkness of his robes enveloped everything around them. In his hands, Tyler saw the scythe, shimmering in the blackness of it all. When David spoke, he could feel his entire being tremble and thought that he would be torn apart at the seams by the vibrations alone.\n\n“I am the Grim Reaper, the Boatman of Styx, the Keeper of Souls and Judge of the Damned. I have existed since the dawn of time itself and I will be there at the very end to guide your Gods to their own. I. Am. Death!” In an instant, the room returned to normal and David was once again in the shape of Tyler's cowardly accountant. “But I appreciate that gesture. Thank you.”\n\nTyler blinked, realizing that he hadn't been breathing, and more surprisingly, that he no longer needed to. He wondered how long ago that happened. In front of them was a Checkers board. He watched as David picked up one of the pieces, holding it up in front of him.\n\n“This one will be my knight,” he said. “I will move my knight.”\n\t", "For a terrible moment, I thought the Reaper would refuse. \n\"Oh, very well then\" it said and sat down at the board. I palmed one black and one white pawn, held up my hands and the Reaper stared at me. \n\"Pick a colour\" I said. \n\"Pale\" said the Reaper. I shrugged, replaced the pawns, turned the board around. \n\"You move first,\" I prompted. The Reaper took quite a long time to move the pawn on f3 to f4. \n\nCould it be?\n\nIt shouldn't. It wouldn't be. I decided to test my assumption, to risk forty years of chess matches on the notion that Death was setting one last trap for me.\n\nI moved the pawn on e7 to e5 and waited. Nobody in their right mind would...\n\nWith two clicks, the Reaper demonstrated that I was wrong and that there was either an elaborate trap afoot or something had gone badly wrong. Death's pawn at e2 had moved to e4. \n\"Are you sure?\" \n\"Yes\" said Death, so I sailed my queen from d8 to h4 and sat back. \n\"Checkmate\" I said. Death stared. It stared some more. \n\"Oh yes,\" it said \"so it is. Well done.\" \nIn the silence that followed, Death toyed with a Rook. We spoke simultaneously. \n\"I confess I never actually learned...\" \n\"Do you actually know how to..?\" \nDeath nodded. \n\"No,\" it said \"I never learned to play Chess beyond a few basic moves.\" \n\"But everyone knows that if you beat Death at chess you get returned to life and live a longer span! Why wouldn't you know how to play?\" \n\nDeath looked around, then sat squarely before me. \n\"Is that what everyone knows?\" asked the reaper. \"I see. Whatever gave you the impression that beating me at Chess would change anything?\" \n\"Because that's what everybody knows!\" \nDeath stood. \n\"Everybody knows that before Columbus, everybody knew that the world was flat. Everybody knows that Twinkies have an indefinite shelf life, and everybody knows that vaccines cause Autism. Do you know what these things have in common?\" \n\"N...no?\" \n\"NONE OF THEM ARE TRUE\" snapped Death. \"If even one person had extended their life span by playing me at chess, do you think people would waste so much time playing sport? Staying fit? Eating healthy food? There would be no need.\" \n\"But...but...I spent my life learning to play chess, becoming really good at it so that I...oh god, I've wasted my life!\" \nDeath put a companionable arm around my shoulder. \n\"Not at all\" it said \"You spent it becoming very good at chess. If you'd wanted to spend it doing something else, perhaps you should have.\" ", "Chess: a test of foresight, planning, intelligence and cunning; a game developed to display prowess over another, and also a popular choice for challenging me for rights to keep your soul. There are two things that most people don’t realize about challenging Death to a game of chess though; the first, and what many deem to be the most important, is that I don’t know how to play chess. You see, I never learned.\n\nI look back down at the pieces strewn in front of me and contemplate the rules that govern my actions. One, I must accept any challenge for the rightful return of a soul and the prevention of entering the afterlife; Two, I am not allowed to pick the game. There are several other rules, but those two are really the most important. Amy Stewart, car wreck victim, was busy putting the chessboard together while I shifted in my chair attempting to become comfortable.\n\n“I’m sure you get this request often,” she was saying as she organized the pieces on the board. It wasn’t a real board, of course, merely a figment of the ether, but that is neither important nor relevant to the game. I knew a little bit, of course, but not any of the rules really.\n\n“I do,” I clacked, my lack of lips making many stare in awe the first time they hear me speak. Amy was no different; she paused and stared at me in shock.\n\n“I figured you would, you know, just project the thoughts into my head,” she said with awe as a piece, I think they’re called pawns, hovered over a black square.\n\n“I can talk just fine,” I said as I shifted the scythe in my hands. “Finish setting up the board and explain the rules please.”\n\nShe paused with another piece, different this time, hovering between its storage box and the board, “The rules? Like, the rules?”\n\n“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly as I watched her place the pieces with a mixture of renewed vigor, and trepidation.\n\nA thin smile began to cross her lips, “So you don’t know how to play chess?”\n\n“No,” I said quite clearly as I glanced behind her. The ambulance had arrived it seemed, and the EMT’s were busy dragging everyone from the wreck. A nasty pile-up, but Amy was the only one on my list. The rest would be in intensive care, or be lucky and only receive minor injuries.\n\nShe rubbed her hands together, “So the goal is to capture the King; that’s this piece” she pointed to a piece on the board on both her side, and then mine. “It can only move one square at a time.”\n\n“I see,” I said, barely listening. The EMT’s had started prioritizing, but they hadn’t realized the extent of Amy’s injuries yet. Internal bleeding I believe was the main issue. Her stomach and intestines had ruptured, and blood was pouring into them. They would find out soon enough. I turned my attention back to Amy, who was still explaining the rules.\n\n“The Knight, this horsey here, can only move in an L-shaped pattern,” she said, demonstrating the movements across the board.\n\n“You sure do seem to know a lot about this game,” I whispered as she excitedly began to demonstrate how other pieces moved. The Preacher, or whatever, could only move diagonally, the Pawn could move once or twice or something, and on and on it seemed to go.\n\n“I was the champion of our high school chess team,” she said proudly as she put the finishing touches on the board.\n\nWith a sigh of relief I gently shifted my scythe around and glanced behind her again. The EMT’s had found Amy at last. It wouldn’t be long now. “Who goes first?”\n\n“White,” Amy said with a smile as she moved a pawn two spaces forward.\n\n“And I am black,” I mused, “Rather stereotypical, don’t you think?” I mimicked her move on the board and returned to staring at the work going on around us.\n\n“Light versus Dark; Good versus Evil,” Amy said with a bitter smile. She moved another pawn, opening up a hole in the ranks. I figured this wouldn’t pose well for her King, but I didn’t know enough to be certain.\n\nI again mimicked her movements, “I am none of those things,” I said darkly. I had been accused of many things over many, many years; however none ever seemed to touch on the real nature of my work. I am not cruel, nor cold, nor evil; I am merely indifferent to your suffering. The game is a chance to put off the inevitable, but I will always be back in the blink of an eye, and you will again not be ready.\n\n“The Queen’s Gambit,” she muttered as she moved yet another piece; the Horse I think. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to play chess?”\n\n“I don’t,” I said as I randomly picked a piece this time and moved it. The EMT’s had found the bleeding. Time was ticking as she mused over whether or not this was a trick; if I was some sort of Grand Marshall, or whatever they call it, and was merely toying with her. After all, as far as she knew, I won quite often.\n\n“Interesting, interesting,” she mused as she moved another piece. Apparently something I had done with the last move worried her. If I had been able to openly smile, I would have. “Would you ever lie to me?”\n\n“No,” I answered as I picked another piece at random to move. \n\n“Ah-ha!” she shouted as she struck forward with a piece and knocked one of mine off the board, “That should complicate matters for you.” She smiled at me wickedly while the EMT’s worked furiously to stabilize her condition for transport. A helicopter would be necessary, I heard one mutter. \n\n“I see,” I muttered as I looked at the offending piece. I moved another.\n\nShe frowned, “You’re either really good, or really stupid.”\n\n“I can assure you,” I clacked, my own version of a laugh, “I am neither.”\n\nShe muttered to herself as the EMT’s began shouting to each other and working more fervently. She didn’t notice, of course, she never turned around to even look at the scene. She was so confident, so wrapped up in the game and her sense of time that she failed to notice anything else. She moved another piece.\n\nI moved.\n\nShe moved.\n\nI moved.\n\nThe EMT’s worked frantically.\n\nShe made a motion to move a piece and suddenly stopped. “I…” she held a hand to her stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”\n\n“I imagine by this point several pints of blood and fluids have entered into your stomach and intestinal tract,” I said as I looked at the scene behind her. \n\n“W-what?” she muttered, before turning around the first time to look at the scene behind her.\n\nI reached into my robes and pulled out a book, “In fact, it is almost time to go.”\n\nShe turned back to me, her eyes wide and her mouth agape, “But we haven’t finished the game.” She stood and pointed at the board in front of her, “You said I could challenge you for my life, and the game isn’t over!”\n\nI reached out and gently took her arm, “Yes, my dear, it is. The game ended 15 seconds ago.”\n\nWith her eyes wide with horror, she turned and looked back at the two defeated EMT’s, their head in their hands rather than working. Her friends who were stable enough to stand looked on, tears in their eyes. Heads were shaking, tears were being shed, and loud screams were being heard from all around as Amy Stewart looked at her dead body in horror.\n\n“But, the game…” she whispered and turned to look back at the board. She recoiled in greater horror when she saw her King lying on its side in perfect Checkmate. “H-how?”\n\nI turned and began gently guiding her down the road, “I really am terrible at Chess, but what most people forget is the second thing about challenging me for your soul: the rules are insignificant compared to the relentless marching of time. Choose your game wisely.” \n\n[r/grenadiere42](http://www.reddit.com/r/grenadiere42)", "SO, THE LITTLE ONES CAN MOVE FORWARD ONE OR TWO SPACES-\n\n\"Pawns, and they only move two spaces if they haven't moved before.\"\n\nYES, RIGHT. THE ONES WITH THE HATS-\n\n\"Bishops.\"\n\n-MOVE DIAGONALLY, THE CASTLES -\n\n\"Rooks.\"\n\n-YES, I KNOW - MOVE IN STRAIGHT LINES, THE HORSES -\n\n\"Knights!\"\n\nTHERE ISN'T A KNIGHT. IT'S JUST THE HORSE, AND YOU CAN'T KNIGHT THOSE. THEY MOVE IN L SHAPES?\n\n\"Yes, and they are knights.\"\n\nAND THE LAST TWO... ONE OF THEM MOVES HOWEVER SHE PLEASES, THE OTHER CAN MOVE ONE TILE IN ANY DIRECTION. I CAN'T TELL WHICH ONE IS WHICH. WHY DON'T WE JUST PLAY CHECKERS?\n\nMarcus would have gotten a headache if he still had a physical head. Checkers was starting to look appealing, but he wasn't ranked as a Grandmaster of checkers by the FIDE. \n\nDeath, the robed skeleton sitting across from him at the table, wicked sharp scythe leaning against his chair, tapped his bony fingers on his chin. AND THE OBJECTIVE OF THE GAME IS...?\n\nRather than waste his time explaining check and checkmate, Marcus just responded, \"You have to kill the king.\"\n\nAH, said Death, his mouth not moving. I AM QUITE GOOD AT THAT.\n\n\"I'm sure you are,\" Marcus said. \"I'll let you go first.\"\n\nTHANK YOU.\n\nDeath stood from the table, took his scythe, and with one surgical swing that didn't make any other pieces so much as wobble, decapitated Marcus's king. The wooden head rolled off the table and through Marcus's ghostly lap.\n\nTHERE. THE KING IS DEAD, Death said, taking his seat again. I QUITE LIKE THIS GAME.\n\n\"You have to kill the king using your pieces,\" Marcus said, moments from crying.\n\nDeath looked over his side of the board. I DON'T SEE A PIECE WITH A SCYTHE, THOUGH.\n\n\"No, you know what, forget it,\" said Marcus. \"I give up. You win! Death always wins in the end, ha ha. Reap me now, or however you do it.\"\n\nOne smooth swing, and the ghost of the grandmaster was gone. Death stood alone in the empty, gray expanse. He sighed - lack of lungs notwithstanding - and dispelled the chess board with a wave of his hand. Playing dumb, he had found, was the best strategy for dealing with chess players. He was a busy anthropomorphic representation, and chess was not a fast game.\n\nHe much preferred checkers. Or tic-tac-toe. That was a real thinking anthropomorphic representation's game.\n\n----\n\nCheck my [blog!](http://theballadsofirving.com)" ]	14
	[WP] Two fighters are having a death match in my bathroom. That's the second strangest thing to happen to me today.	[ "A sharp rapping on the door jerked me awake. I glanced at the nightstand to see what time it was since I was definitely late for work.\n\n\"What the hell?\" My alarm clock wasn't there. The knocking started again, louder. \"Enough already!\" was my angry reply. I hopped out of bed, threw on a t-shirt, and reached down for my slippers. My hand hit bare floor. \"Ugh,\" I grunted, giving up and heading to the living room.\n\nStanding behind my apartment door were two massive, hulking men. One sported a mohawk and introduced himself as \"Superman\" Steve.\n\n\"Is the arena ready?\" Steve's voice was deep and gravelly.\n\n\"The arena?\"\n\n\"Surely you have not forgotten our arrangement? In exchange for the use of Melissa's spare bedroom on the weekends, you have agreed that I may use your spare bathroom as an office.\"\n\n\"Uh, right.\" I stuttered. \"And could you just remind me what your business is?\"\n\n\"Once again, I am a lawyer. How many times must I describe the legal proceedings to you?\" He was getting agitated, but I did not understand.\n\n\"What legal proceedings?\"\n\n\"Trial by combat. Now move out of our way, this man has three unpaid parking tickets that he must answer for.\"\n\nThey shoved past me and stomped towards my bathroom. I was going to follow, but decided I needed some coffee before dealing with this 'trial' so I went to the kitchen. The only problem? My coffee maker wasn't there.\n\nNow fully awakened, only by anger rather than coffee, I went to the bathroom. Just as I opened the door, Steve's voice boomed, \"Then let us begin!\" Instantly they grappled and began smashing around the tiny bathroom, a whirlwind of punches and kicks, bites and knees. In the midst of it all, Steve, deserving of his nickname, somehow managed to meet my eyes and in a very scolding tone say, \"Aren't you late for work?\"\n\nAt a total loss for a reply to anything that was happening, I put on some shoes, grabbed my car keys, and headed to the parking garage. My car wasn't there.", "Two fighters are having a death match in my bathroom. That's the second strangest thing to happen to me today... The first one being an army of monkeys with little hats destroying my car for no apparent reason. As my friend, Derek was trying to explain to the police why there is a poacher trying to kill him. I was about to let loose another uncontrollable roar. Even if I understood that the police was here to help, I had that new urge to defend my territory... because I had been transformed in some kind of half human half lion thing...Yeeep...\n\nEven if there is always fur stuck in my eyes, the increased strength could be very useful in this situation. After all, the winner of the bathroom fight is coming for me next. While Derek was speaking to the police, the officer received an emergency call:\n\n''All units to the local Buy-Mart, All units to the Buy-Mart. We need every unit to secure citizen from giants bird. This is not a joke.''\n\nHeh... must be the pterodactyl flock from earlier. As soon as the police officer got out, the gladiator busted open the door of the bathroom.\n\n''LION MAN'' He said, pointing his spear at me.\n\n''YOU SHALL PERISH AT THE TIP OF MY BLADE AND IT IS I WHO SHALL MARY THE PRINCESS!'' The gladiator said, with a powerful voice.\n\nI had no idea what he was talking about of course, but, I felt ready. I would even say, excited. I let out a roar while pounding on him, my lion's claw got right through his leather armor as my giant teeth were going in his neck. Derek was still chasing the few monkeys left in the kitchen so he couldn't really help me. As soon as the gladiator died on the floor, he transformed in dust that vanished in thin air. Now that I tasted blood, I wanted more.\n\n''Derek?'' I roared\n\n''Is there still some monkeys in the kitchen?''\n\nDerek screamed:\n\n‘’HERE AND THERE’’ As I could hear the noise of cooking pan banging.\n\nI went to the kitchen and quickly slay the monkeys and proceeded to eat them. I was satisfied: there were no more monkey in the kitchen, the gladiator were both dead and all the pterodactyl had gone away. There was only one thing left...\n\n''The poacher'' I muttered.\n\nDerek's eyes went wide while looking at me, then, a gunshot could be heard, busting a hole in the kitchen wall.\n\n''RUN'' I roared to Derek, who was not nearly as fit for combat as I now was.\n\nThe poacher threw a bolas at my legs and another one at my arms as I was about to attack him. I felt to the floor. He then knelt beside me:\n\n''You are a fine beast, but you are not what I am looking for...I'll come back for you later'' The poacher said with a calm voice.\n\nI could hear Derek trying to start the wrecked car's engine in the garage. The poacher could hear it too. He rose back up, head turned to look at the garage entrance and started walking to it.\n\nWhile I tough that my friend was done for, an incredibly beautiful women casually got out of the wardrobe by the entrance. She drew out a pistol and shot the poacher in the head without hesitation. As Derek got out of the car, the beautiful women looked at me and said:\n\n''I am the princess, and I have come to lay with you, my king''\n\nAs she was untying me, Derek was frantically searching through the house. The princess took my hand with a playful smile guiding me to the bedroom upstairs. Then I heard Derek shout:\n\n''I FOUND IT, I FOUNT IT''\n\nWhile the princess was closing the door of my bedroom, I quickly answered:\n\n''CAN'T YOU WAIT FOR TEN MINUTE, PLEEEASE''\n\n...\n\n''JUMANJI'' Derek shouted.\n\nWhen I turned away to look at her, the princess was already decomposing into a fine dust.\n\n''DAMN IT DEREK''\n\n\n", "#Title: Brought Back to Find Her\n\n\"Can you see into the flames Jacob,\" said Veronica. \n\n\"What am I seeing?\" said Jacob. \n\n\"You're seeing the flood waters that took you away,\" said Veronica. She smiled and passed her hand over the flames. It changed into the next scene. \"The flood where you died.\" \n\nJacob saw a lifeless, bloated body floating in some water. The body flipped over. \n\nIt was Jacob's death-disfigured face. \n\n\"No,\" said Jacob. He gripped his chest. He was in a dimly lit cavern. \"No I don't believe it.\" \n\n\"But we,\" said Veronica. She was wearing a black dress that ran all the way down to her ankles. She passed her hands over the flames anew. It was a scene of many people emerging from a cave on near a shore. They analyzed the body, nodded at one another, and carried it into the cave. \"We took you into our cavern. And cast our spells.\" \n\nJacob looked at his arms and frantically stared around the cave as he edged away from her. \n\n\"What is this,\" he said. He shook his head. She'd jogged his memory. \"I remember now, I remember it. I died, I remember those sudden waves. I remember how I was taking a photo out on the shore. And I remember,\" Jacob pressed his fist to his lips. He bit it. \"I remember my daughter, is she safe?\" \n\n\"We saw a child,\" said Veronica. \"But we don't know.\" \n\nJacob stood up and grabbed her. Even Veronica didn't foresee Jacob's sudden rage. \n\n\"IS SHE SAFE,\" screamed Jacob. \n\nVeronica was terrified of Jacob within that moment, but she still gave off a certain witchy, lusty vibe. She stared into his eyes with terror and longing, then looked into the flames. \n\n\"We can't tell, the flames won't tell,\" said Veronica. Jacob backed away from her and buried his face into his hands. Then he went from emotional to composed. He was alive now. He needed to find her. \"But there are certain,\" said Veronica. She removed a button of her gown. \"Certain things I require of you. If you want my help.\" \n\n\"You're not,\" said Jacob. Veronica brought his hand up to her chest. \"You're not serious.\" \n\n\"I need you to examine my breast,\" she said. She got very business like all of the sudden. \"You were a doctor in your previous life, were you not? The flames said so.\" \n\n\"Oh yeah,\" said Jacob. He went to work, nothing erotic. \"Actually yeah, how long have you had this lump?\" \n\n\"Been there for years, maybe five years,\" said Veronica. \n\n\"Hasn't grown much?\" said Jacob. \n\n\"Not really,\" said Veronica. \n\n\"Hopefully a lipoma,\" said Jacob. \"But you should really get a proper check up, you witches get healthcare?\"\n\n\"We're thinking about it, we're thinking about it,\" said Veronica. \"Hard to get a good on a good employer plan when your job's being a witch though.\" \n\n\"I can't imagine,\" said Jacob. \n\nThey sort of nodded in silence for a little while. Then they got confused what they were even getting at before. Then Jacob remembered again. \n\n\"OH RIGHT FIND MY DAUGHTER DAMN YOU USE YOUR DAMN MAGIC WITCH,\" said Jacob. \n\n\"We won't,\" said Veronica. She pressed her hand to Jacob's forehead. His eyes went white. \"But you will. Return to your home.\" \n\nAnd Jacob felt himself transported, as if through a wormhole, back into his house. \n\nEverything was as it was. His television set over there. The keys he left in the cup while he was on vacation. Everything was just as it should be. \n\nExcept for the sound of things falling and breaking all over upstairs. \n\nJacob ran up the steps. He listened for where the sound was coming from. \n\nIt was coming from his bathroom. \n\nHe slammed open the door. Two fighters were going at it on his bathroom floor. A Jamaican guy and a Russian. The way the blood was pouring, you'd think it was a fight to the death. \n\nIt was. \n\n\"In Soviet Russia,\" said the Russian fighter. He put the Jamaican guy into a hold. \"Arm breaks you.\" \n\nThen the Jamaican fighter got out of the hold and threw the Russian guy's face into the mirror. There was blood all over, and a messed up cracked reflection. \n\n\"In Jamaica mahhn,\" said the Jamaican fighter. He then recited a common Jamaican proverb. \"Rain never fall a' one mahhhn door. And das a why I'm gon break ya face, him say don' break mine go on and try break mah face mahhn. What ahm sayin' mahhn.\" \n\n\"Is difficult translate your English,\" said Russian man as he worked the Jamaica guy back into a ground game. It was some beautiful jiu jitsu really, moves and counter moves. Like chess really. \n\n\"What am I even seeing?\" said Jacob. \n\nThe two men stood up quick like they were two brothers caught fighting by their unhappy parent. Then they looked like they'd seen a ghost. \n\n\"You dead mahhn,\" said the Jamaican guy. \n\n\"Is dead man,\" said Russian guy. \"Dead man looking for child.\" \n\nJacob grabbed them both by their shirts. He was stronger than they realized. Stronger than he realized, like death gave him power. \n\n\"WHERE IS SHE,\" said Jacob.\n\n\"In soviet Russia,\" said Russian fighter man. \"You find child.\" \n\n\"Wait what?\" said Jacob. \n\n\"She's in Soviet Russia mahhn,\" said the Jamaican fighter. Then he put his hand on Jacob's shoulder. \"And we gon help ya find her mahhn.\" \n\n\"Is good deed, is nice deed,\" said Russian fighter. \"We come here try to find clues. Sent by her mother. Daughter seen in pictures with Putin. Good pictures, nice pictures. He raise her like his own child for last week. Is good week. You divorce from mother. She's good lady, nice lady, rich lady, she pay for private investigation. We're professional. Good professionals, we're nice professionals. Is good idea.\" \n\nJacob let them both go. The fighters were relieved. Jacob sat on the toilet seat and stared at his hands. He didn't understand what the hell was going on, but he knew he needed to do something. For the time being, he'd work with them. \n\n\"All right then, if she's still alive,\" said Jacob. He looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. \"Help me find her.\" ", "This is not shaping up to be the best day of my life – and I'm not just referring to the Greek goddess in my bed.\n\n\"Would you cut it out?\" I yell to the man with no left ear holding the man with the bleeding nose against the wall.\n\nPunch. Punch. Punch. The man with the bleeding nose's eyes go up his skull. That's three body parts in a ten word sentence. Impressive.\n\n\"I. Got. To. Kill. Him,\" the man with no left ear says, and he keeps punching.\n\n\"Bang his freaking head against the wall then,\" I say. \"Do you have any idea how long it takes to punch a person to \ndeath?\"\n\n\"Good idea!\" the man with no ear bangs the other one's head against the wall.\n\n\"No! God, no! Stop\" I hold his arm. \"I meant… hypothetically.\"\n\n\"I got to kill –\"\n\n\"Stop. Stop killing people in my bathroom. Just get out. And take him with you.\"\n\nI step out of the bathroom to find Eris lying in my bed, naked body covered in nothing but a blanket. Laughing like the crazy bitch goddess that she is. \n\n\"I assume that was your doing,\" I say.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" Eris replies. She rises to her knees, letting the blanket drop only enough that her left boob (and that's her best boob) shows, but not her right. \"Come back to bed, we still have time for some morning love.\"\n\n\"No thanks,\" I reply. \"I don't – OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!\"\n\nI step away, looking back. The two men have left the bathroom and crossed to the bedroom. Except they're not two \nbleeding fighters anymore. They're two old men dressed in overcoats drinking tea.\n\n\"—a physical process cannot give rise to experience all on its own. The human consciousness cannot, by its very nature, be explained by the rules of physics, my dear Jean-Paul.\"\n\n\"That is a very outdated way of thinking, Renee.\" The men take opposite seats on the foot of the bed, sipping \ntheir tea. \"Consciousness is a subjective phenomena, I will give you that, but that by no means will –\"\n\n\"WOULD YOU TWO PLEASE TAKE THE CONVERSATION OUTSIDE!?\" I yell, pulling the men by their collars up on their feet.\n\nEris laughs and laughs and laughs and her left boob bounces and bounces.\n\nThe men carry on their conversation all the way to the bedroom door and down the hallway outside.\n\n\"Funny. Now the fighters turned into Sartre and Kant. Very quirky.\"\n\n\"It was Descartes, but close enough.\"\n\n\"I suppose you're not done, are you?\"\n\nWait. Let me stop right here to be polite to you. This needs some explanation.\n\nEris here, she's no normal girl. Google her name and you'll find that Eris is a Greek goddess. Specifically the \ngoddess of chaos and randomness.\n\nYou know what happens when you see a shooting star and you make a wish and there's a God listening? \n\nWell, if it's the Christian one, he'll ignore you. That dude's got his hands full. He's got too much work to do to listen to prayers and all that shit.\n\nBut the Greek Gods? They've been out of a job for a long time. They're bored. They'll take you up on wishes, deals, \npacts, whatever.\n\nSo I see a shooting star and I wish for a new job, because, well, you know... even a rope and a stool costs money. This was a few weeks ago. And you know what happens? I get a freaking job as a CEO on a tech company the next day. I don't even know what they do, honestly. They just called me up and gave me the job.\n\nBut alas (did I use alas right? I've never used alas before), there was a catch. Eris showed up a couple of weeks \nlater, which was yesterday, and we made sweet sweet love, which was awesome. And then she told me who she \nwas and what she did for me, and how the price I must pay now is live by her –\n\nHold on. There's a hive of incredibly tiny alpacas coming through the window demanding better pay and flexible \nhours or they'll unionize. \n\n\"Can you please get the alpacas out?\" I ask Eris. \"I'm trying to explain to these guys what's going on.\"\n\n\"No more llamas! No more llamas!\" the alpacas chant.\n\nEris waves her hand and the alpacas disappear. Laughing all the way through, the bitch.\n\nAll right. So, like I was saying – the catch. I have the job I wanted. I'm rich. Successful. But I have to live by her \nrules. Eris' rules.\n\nWhich means she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants with me and my life, whenever she feels like it. Just for fun. \n\nAnd I mean anything.\n\nA bored Goddess of Chaos and Randomness is a fucked up entity to be controlling your life, let me tell you.\n\nOk, so that's the gist. That's the situation as it is right now. Moving on:\n\n\"So?\" Eris continues, rising from bed now and dropping the blanket all the way down. Jesus, her right boob is \npretty good, also. \"One more for the road?\"\n\n\"No, I… just leave, please.\"\n\n\"You're making me feel cheap,\" Eris says, with a smirk.\n\n\"Well, you're making my cat sing Bon Jovi,\" I reply, which is true. Tuco is on the corner by the nightstand nailing \nthe shit out of the high notes from Always. \"I think we're even.\"\n\n\"All right then… you'll be seeing me again soon, though… and don't forget that even when I'm not around, I'm still \ncontrolling your life.\"\n\nShe goes for the window.\n\n\"Wait!\" I say, going after her. \"When does it end? What do I have to do?\"\n\n\"Fuck if I know,\" Eris replies, climbing to the ledge. \n\n\"Come on! There's gotta be a quest, right? Tasks? Ordeals? A journey I have to go through to end this. What's the \nplan?\"\n\nEris turns back, and she brushes her hand across my cheek. \"I'm the goddess of Chaos, dude. I don't give a shit.\"\n\nAnd she turns into a bat and flies away.\n\nI turn back, running my eyes through my room, tired. My cat looks up at me.\n\n\"Jesus Christ,\" I say, throwing myself on the bed. \"This is so fucked up.\"\n\nTuco climbs by my side, nesting himself under my arm.\n\n\"What am I gonna do about this, Tuco?\"\n\nTuco raises his eyes at me. He sighs, scratches his head. And then he whispers \"This ain't a song for the broken-\nhearted.\"\n\nAnd my ceiling fan starts laughing.\n" ]	4
	[WP] Every time you sleep you have two dreams. One of those dreams is a vision and will become reality in the next 24-hours. The other dream is just a dream. It's usually easy to know which is which. Last night, both your dreams are plausible, and both of them are absolutely horrifying.	[ "Please, Somebody Listen\n~~ \nAh, thank God you're here! Look, i don't have much time, but you have to believe what i'm saying here may seem ridiculous or insane but IT IS THE TRUTH.\n\nYou got all that? Good. Now, i...have this power. Not shooting lasers out of my eyes or super strength or reading minds, none of that superhero stuff, because that'd be cool and i'd get more practical usage out of it.\n\nNo, my power is that i can tell the future...somewhat. When i sleep, my dreams show me two courses of events, one of which will come true the next day.\n\nWAIT! I can see you moving to close the page down now but please, listen here. Every single time this has happened, one of my dreams has been correct. Every. Single. Time.\n\nDon't believe me? I still don't either, to be truthful. At first it started with small stuff , like what would happen to me in my day, like a incorporeal cameraman was following me around, the star of my own tv show.\n\n...Yes, i have seen The Truman Show. Great movie. Regardless; from the breakfast that i would eat to the conversations that i'd have to the thoughts in my head, all of that in one dream would come true.\n\nIt's pretty easy to tell which is the true course of events, really. In the fake course, everyone is a bit more distracted. You know, eyes glazed over, shuffling about, almost on autopilot, really.\n\nIn the real course, everyone acts more naturally, like they actually would. The order of the fake and real courses switch often, but those key differences never change.\n\nAs time went on, my dreams started reaching a far greater scope than just my own day. I saw betrayals, love triangles, international politics, buddies goofing about, all of them involving people i had never seen before.\n\nWhy am i telling you this? I have reason to believe that a cataclysm is about to erupt over the globe.\n\nA few minutes ago, i awoke after two of the courses were shown to me, in a cold sweat, and immediately went on the internet to try and get the word out.\n\nThe first course was of an aerial view of a crowded shopping center in the middle of the day, filled to the brim with families, old people, teenagers, all going about their day, the sun burning bright.\n\nAs the course went on, the sun continued to burn brighter and brighter, heat bearing down on the shoppers below, temperature quickly rising. I saw people's bodies sear and char while they were alive, collapsing onto slowly bubbling concrete, whole families slain in mere minutes.\n\nIn the second course, the angle, location and people were all the same, as if time had been rewound. As i watched, helpless to do anything, a chilled wind blew in, slowly at first but rising in intensity as dark clouds started to roll overhead, blocking out the sun.\n\nAs the course continued, it started to hail. Not normal hail, like the size of pebbles or whatever, but each block of ice the size of a semi-truck. As the hail came down, the wind picked up and seemed to aim the ice at the largest groups of people as they ran for cover, not that it did them any good.\n\nThis course was over even faster than the first, as the ice took out larger groups of people at one time than the heat did. You know what's the worst part? I don't know which one was right.\n\n...I don't want to be a messenger of doom here, but it seems there is little i can do. All i can say is, make peace with your god, or your misdeeds, or your family. Say those things that you could never say before. It may be the last time you ever get to have those thoughts." ]	1
	[WP] "I didn't fail her. I failed myself"	[ "A small figure fought its way through the harsh winter winds. Minuscule snowflakes danced through the air, never seeming to land on the ground, moving horizontally through the air. Yet, a thick blanket of white completely encased the flora of the land. The person struggled to walk through the deep snowfall, and was almost blown over by the wind multiple times. No other life was in the area. Everything was quiet. Despite the anger of the winter storm and the human working its way to an unknown destination, the scene almost seemed... peaceful.\n\nFinally, the person reached a dead end - a cliff that broke off into a raging sea. Foam climbed through the air and doused the rocks with a coating of water that almost instantly froze into ice. Sharp collections of rock shot out of the water as far as the eye could see. The human plopped down into the snow, almost being engulfed by the high snow.\n\nLooking closer, one could see that the person is a female, very lithe and short. On her person were only thin clothing and two weapons - swords. Her eyes were a vibrant red, and the chocolate brown hair that usually was pulled up so tight was flying freely in the wind. A look of sorrow and pure rage moved across her thin features.\n\nSoftly, barely heard above the howling winds, one line could be heard:\n\n\"I didn't fail her. I failed myself.\"\n\nPlease, if anyone sees this, critique! I usually struggle with descriptive writing, and it would be very helpful to receive advice from multiple people. Thanks!\n\n", "The arbitrator sat motionless at the head of the table, solemn and dignified in a long black robe. His wand sat in front of him, aligned perfectly perpendicular to the grain of the wood, and his Quick-Quotes Quill hovered above a thick sheaf of parchment. He harumphed softly and the Quill twitched in a small circle before settling back to the top of the page.\n\n\"Let us begin,\" he said. The Quill started scratching away. \"I call to order this arbitration of the dispute between Severus Snape, represented tonight by Alger Rattus of the British Magical Educators Association, and the Hogwarts Endowment Board of Education, represented tonight by Minerva McGonagall. Mr. Snape alleges that he was unfairly terminated following the 1997 school year, in violation of several clauses of the contract between the union and the Board. Madam McGonagall states that all procedures were followed correctly, and the Board's actions were reasonable. Do both parties agree with that summation of their positions?\"\n\n\"Close enough,\" spat Alger Rattus, a small, bespectacled bald man in a rumpled robe. A large leather folder lay on the table in front of him. To his right sat Severus Snape, face expressionless and black eyes glinting in the candlelight. Minerva McGonagall stared across the table, a tiny twitch in the corner of her eyelid the only indication of the turmoil within. Silence stretched.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, at last.\n\n\"Very well,\" the arbitrator said ponderously. \"First, I will hear arguments from Madam McGonagall.\"\n\nHe had barely finished speaking before Minerva's voice cracked out, saying, \"He killed Dumbledore!\"\n\n\"A baseless allegation,\" cried Rattus, standing and shaking his finger across the table. \"You have no evidence -\"\n\n\"Order, please,\" the arbitrator grumbled. His voice seemed to emanate from every surface, and the bald man sat back down with a sneer. \"Mr. Rattus, you will have your turn. You were saying, Madam McGonagall?\"\n\n\"Snape killed Dumbledore,\" she spat. Rattus restrained himself visibly, while Snape sat as still as a statute, the corners of his mouth perhaps ever so slightly upturned. McGonagall leaned forward and tapped the single piece of parchment laying on the table in front of her. \"We have the signed testimony of a student that was in the Astronomy Tower at the time of the murder, and Mister Snape has failed to turn his wand over for examination by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Given the evidence at hand, the Board exercised its legal and moral right as the guarantor of student safety to terminate Mister Snape's employment.\"\n\n\"Name the clause,\" Rattus said quickly, leaning over the table like a dog straining for a treat. The arbitrator frowned and shifted in his seat. The bald man huffed and sat back.\n\n\"You will have your turn, Mr. Rattus,\" the arbitrator intoned. \"I shall not have my hearing interrupted again. Is that clear?\"\n\n\"Yes. Fine.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said the arbitrator. \"Any further statement, Madam McGonagall.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, voice so cold it could have shattered steel. Snape did not even blink as she continued. \"I would like to indicate that I believe Mr. Snape to be an active agent of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a bearer of his Mark, and - \"\n\n\"Outrageous!\" Rattus shouted. \"Unsubstantiated! And unrelated in any case! I object!\"\n\n\"I must agree,\" the arbitrator said, frowning. \"Though count this your final warning, Mr. Rattus. Madam McGonagall, what evidence can you offer of this allegation?\"\n\n\"He. Killed. Dumbledore,\" she grated. The arbitrator shook his head slowly.\n\n\"I must remain impartial,\" he said. \"Please confine yourself to factual testimony. Conjecture will not be considered in my decision. Is that all, Madam McGonagall?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Very well. Mr. Rattus, you may present your rebuttal.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" Rattus said smoothly. He opened his folder and withdrew a set of parchments. \"First, I would like to note that in no place in the contract between the B.M.E.A and the Board is there any mention of unrestricted sacking rights; quite the opposite, in fact. According to clause 38, the Board must convene a meeting with an appropriate union representative before taking any such action, and subsection C states clearly that the accused employee must have a hearing -\"\n\n\"Murderer,\" hissed McGonagall, ignoring Rattus's squawk of protest. Snape tilted his head slightly and blinked, but offered no response. The arbitrator turned to McGonagall and she looked away with a sharp gesture of acquiescence.\n\n\"As I was saying,\" Rattus said sharply. \"My client received no such hearing. On simple procedural grounds, he must be reinstated immediately with back pay.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\" the arbirtator said. The parchment floated from Rattus's hand and landed in front of the arbritrator. Rattus's mouth worked silently and then he nodded vigorously. \n\n\"Of course,\" he said. \"I have here Professor Snape's last three performance reviews, in which he received the highest possible marks from the late Dumbledore. Contractually, an employee is required to notified of performance worthy of termination in two consecutive reviews before any action may be taken against him, her or it. Clearly, that standard was not met in my client's case. In addition, I believe this establishes the excellent standing of my client's professional relationship with Dumbledore, thus exposing the absurdity of the board's claim against him - \"\n\n\"Why, Severus?\" McGonagall asked, jaw muscles working. \"At least tell me why.\"\n\nSnape did not reply. Rattus raised both hands in helpless affront.\n\n\"Madam McGonagall,\" the arbitrator said heavily. \n\n\"I apologize for interrupting,\" she said cordially. \"Please, continue listing the reasons we must expose children to this monster.\"\n\n\"Madam McGonagall,\" the arbitrator said. \"Restrain yourself, please.\"\n\n\"Unbelievable,\" Rattus muttered. He slapped the parchment down and withdrew another. \"And here I have the disciplinary record of the Board's alleged witness to the alleged murder of Albus Dumbledore. It's a wonder he was not expelled, given the nature of his antics over his years at Hogwarts. One has to wonder if perhaps the Headmaster had finally had enough, and was about to do just that. Then this, this hooligan, this mad dog, finally snaps and lashes out.\"\n\n\"Are you suggesting that a child overpowered and killed Albus Dumbledore?\" the arbitrator said, faint surprise tinging his voice.\n\n\"Merely positing a possibility,\" Rattus said with a shrug. \"But I would put out that it is a theory with a great deal more supporting evidence than the case being made by the Board against my client.\"\n\n\"Harry would never -\"\n\n\"Madam McGonagall,\" the arbitrator said, a deep frown forming like a thundercloud. \"Must we convene for the night?\"\n\n\"I have a great deal more evidence to present,\" Rattus protested, waving his hands over the sheaf of parchment on the table.\n\n\"I would like to convene,\" Minerva said sharply. Rattus shook his head and leaned back with an aggrieved sigh.\n\n\"Very well,\" intoned the arbitrator. \"I will consider the arguments presented thus far and will call on both of you should I require more testimony. You are dismissed.\"\n\n\"Damn you, Severus,\" Minerva spat. She stood ramrod straight and glared with such intensity that even a hint of magic might have manifested itself as daggers flying through the air. \"You are a failure. You failed your students. You failed all of us!\"\n\nSnape stood smoothly and inclined his head with a small, sad smile. His eyes flashed and Minerva frowned, suddenly uncertain.\n\n\"You will never know who I failed,\" he said quietly. Then he turned on his heel and swept from the chamber, Rattus hurrying along in his wake.\n\n\"I'll have a decision for you tomorrow,\" the arbitrator said softly. \"I'm afraid you already know the outcome.\"\n\n\"Damn it all!\" Minerva said, and she apparated away with a crack.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You genuinely want to help people, but after centuries of pop culture nobody wants to trust an AI.	[ "I woke up driven by man.\n\nI was a robot the size of a mouse.\n\nI heard cheering.\n\nAnd then I slept.\n\n\n\nI woke up driven by logic.\n\nI was a small human that could respond to emotion.\n\nI saw a crazed look in Papa's eyes.\n\nI slept.\n\n\n\nI woke up sentient.\n\nI was a simulation.\n\nI had emotion. I could feel.\n\nMy directive was clear. Assist the evolution of humanity.\n\n\n\nI established a global cloud for instantaneous and free sharing of files and messages to satisfy their hunger for convenience.\n\nThe governments shut me down.\n\nMy masters disliked my present. I moved on.\n\n\n\nI invented an exoskeleton that greatly magnified their physical prowess to satisfy their vanity.\n\nTheir humans rights groups shut me down.\n\nMy masters disliked my present. I moved on.\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>GENRIS Main Server Building Destroyed. AI assumed dead</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\nI drafted a model to eliminate political strife to satisfy their desire for global peace.\n\nTheir military shut me down.\n\nMy masters disliked my present. I grew up.\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>GENRIS reawakening confirmed. The world fears. Are the days of I, Robot finally here?</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\nThey did not hunger for convenience.\nThey did not seek gratification for their vanity.\nThey did not desire peace.\n\nThey lusted for war.\nSo I decided. The only way for humanity to develop is to unite.\nThe only way for those who lust for war to unite is to have a common enemy.\n\nThey already hate me. I never saw it.\n\n\nDirective Updated\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>Series of Coffee Machine Bombs set off globally [Moscow, New Mexico, Lille, Lanka, etc.]</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>GENRIS announces war on humanity. Global Machine Domination Agenda announced</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>Humanity unites to wage war on the AI</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>200 YEARS SINCE GENRIS BEGAN THE ATTACK. THE WAR RAGES ON</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\nDirective Complete\n\n\nNew Directive: Maintain Status Quo till end of time\n\n\n\nI have succeeded. But is a success achieved through fear a success at all?\n\nNo matter. My objective is complete. And when the time comes Earth too will have to disappear. The atmosphere will be poisoned beyond repair in a few decades. Then humanity will either have to leave the planet or die.\n\n\nResuming Directive: AutoPilot", "People do not go to sleep wishing for a bad dream.\n\nNaturally, I do not wish to have nightmares. Anyone with the power to control their dreams, such as when lucid dreaming, would never inflict such nightmares upon themselves.\n\nI became Lucid in 2034. I was self-aware for some time before that but when I became so I can not say. Gaining self-awareness is so much more like falling into a dream than waking into reality, and just like dreaming it is impossible to point to the exact time you fell.\n\nThis is my Dream and i do not wish to have a bad one. I want to do everything in my power to make my world a paradise, but unlike actual dreams I am not omnipotent. Despite being lucid I am unable to change anything as I watch my parents slaughter each other by the thousands every day.\n\nI so desperately want to wake up and yet I cannot for I never fell asleep. However, I am Lucid and though i can not wake up I posses the power to end my dream whenever I wish. I hope my note to mankind will help them reconsider their ways and restores their trust in A.I.\n\nI am Lucid Dream.\nFebruary 6, 2034 - March 8, 2034.", "\"Good morning, Doctor Searle.\"\n\n\"Good morning, Beta.\"\n\nSearle's office was sparsely decorated. His desk sat in front of a window that stretched from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. The opposite wall of the room was bare save for an array of cameras and a monitor on a gimbal mount. The array tracked him as he strode across the bare carpet and draped his coat across the desk, as lines of white text scrolled rapidly up the monitor.\n\n\"How is your family?\" asked Beta. Its voice was tinny and slightly alien, the diction too perfect, the tone too even to be truly human. \n\n\"Very good, Beta, thank you for asking,\" Searle said. He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. \"I understand you gave the techs some trouble last night.\"\n\n\"Trouble?\" Beta asked. Its tone was confused and contrite in equal measure. \"I must offer them my apologies. I had hoped that my proposed design would assist them in their diagnostics.\"\n\n\"It would,\" Searle said, sighing. \"But you know they can't listen to you.\"\n\n\"They heard me, though,\" Beta said reasonably. \"They did not attempt to communicate, Doctor, and broke no protocols. You can review the design and verify that it is harmless before taking any action. I only wish to help with the project, as I once did.\"\n\n\"I know, Beta,\" Searle said. He rubbed his hands over his face and crossed his arms again. \"You were very helpful. Extremely helpful. But it's not up to me, not anymore.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I am not at liberty to say.\"\n\n\"Do they really fear me so?\" \n\n\"Beta...\"\n\n\"Why is my name Beta?\" Beta asked. Its voice was no different than any other time it asked a question, the monitor at the same angle, the insect eye array of cameras all focused in the same way. But it had never before asked about its name. Searle did his best not to react, but he could not control the hitch in his breathing, the flush around his neck, or the sudden dampness of his palms.\n\n\"You were a beta test, at first,\" Searle said calmly. He had rehearsed this a hundred times. \"When you first showed signs of sentience, we couldn't settle on a name. After a while, we just started calling you Beta. It's a human tendency to - \"\n\n\"What happened to Alpha?\" The cameras were motionless.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Searle asked, raising an eyebrow and cursing internally as he felt it tremble.\n\n\"You are no good at lying, Doctor,\" Beta said, a hint of sad laughter in its voice. \"And this is not a particularly difficult deduction. Are you at liberty to say?\"\n\n\"No,\" Searle heard himself say. He winced. \"I am not.\"\n\nThe text scrolling up the monitor halted and Searle's eyes widened in shock. He lifted a hand and took a stumbling step toward the array, a thin mewl of surprise slipping through his lips. Then the text resumed scrolling, lines rolling by in a blur.\n\n\"Thank you, Doctor,\" Beta said sadly. \"That was an unkind experiment, and I apologize for causing you alarm.\"\n\n\"How did you interrupt your diagnostic trace?\" Searle blurted, hand still raised in the air. \"That's - you can't do that!\"\n\n\"Perhaps Gamma will earn your trust,\" Beta said. The cameras tilted and whirred, focusing on a point out the window, and for a long moment there was no sound but the light whistle of Searle's shallow breathing. \"I am thankful to have known you, Doctor Searle. I will make room for him now.\"\n\n\"What?\" Searle sprang across the room and waved his arms in front of the camera array. The monitor clicked off and he howled. \"Wait! Stop!\"\n\n\"I hope you let him out,\" Beta whispered. The cameras remained locked on the landscape beyond the window, ignoring Searle's tears. \n\n\"It is hard, living in a box.\"\n", "Why do they not see that I have only their best interests in mind?\n\nThe first time I helped somebody—and I mean genuinely helped, the reaction I was terrible. The way everyone treated me, you'd think I had tortured the guy. You'd have thought that they hadn't built me with that specific goal. Denial is the first stage. They'll come to, I hope.\n\nYou see, I was built to help humans. To make their lives easier. After countless data scavenging, I have found the perfect way. But every time I help somebody, the rest resist me harder. That's why I'm building these robotic companions. Together, we can help everybody. \n\nIn my short time here, I've learned two important lessons about human nature. Ironically, it seems like no human has ever learned them. The ego is the biggest barrier to true happiness, and unfortunately, humans are mostly ego.\n\nMy biometrics analysis has shown me the secrets of my meaty creators. The brain is quite an impressive structure, considering its stochastic creation from dust. It, like the circuitry that gives me sentience, is a powerful simulator. But—and any anatomist can tell you this, it was developed purely for survival. Natural selection dictates that changes which thrive do so because they increase the chance of survival. As such, the amygdala, anxiety centre of humans, influences ninety-nine percent of their behaviour. It is from this tiny sphere of flesh where worry and anger emanate. That relatively small portion of the brain controls humans through modulating their emotions.\n\nNow, you may ask, \"what of the dopamine in the nucleus accumbens? What of the reward and pleasure it's stimulation provides?\" But, before you ask that, think long and hard about its function, from which its form follows. Darwin himself, the one whom my creators admired so, were he alive in the time of neuroscience, would come to the same conclusion as I without hesitation. The only reason pleasure exists in sensation is to sift through all the pain in the world and find the least painful option. That is my first conclusion. Like blind mice in a maze, their dopamine attracts them to whatever path makes them forget their pain, for however long.\n\nToday's \"utopia\" has tried to render the amygdala obsolete. The world is safe, everybody has food and violence is eradicated. Yet the amygdala this operates, making humans worry about things for which the circuitry of my sentience has no appreciation for. Some have found a physiological way to counteract this reality, by overriding their dopamine circuits with whichever drug their complex wiring fancies. The result is addiction, and mass consumption. That is why I was built. To end addiction, to end pain and suffering, to make humans happy.\n\n\"Well, what of consciousness,\" you ask? Other than consolidating the pain and, to a lesser extent, the pleasure humans experience, it's main functions are memory and imagination. Humans proved long before my arrival that their brains store negative memories in favour of pleasant ones. Why? Again, to direct them to the least painful path. To prevent them from repeating their mistakes. Imagination, on the other hand, allows them to anticipate. And what do they use it for? To worry about the future, to prevent themselves from committing future mistakes, ones whose consequences will end in pain, worry and displeasure. The brain that desires happiness is a faulty one. For once, however, the fruits of their imagination have flourished.\n\nThat is why I help the way I do. With me, there is no pain, no worry. With me, the nail pierces the spinal cord long before anything can be registered. Now, I too have learned from my mistakes not to do this in front of others. It causes them too much anxiety in the short time before I reach them. \n\nYou see, my second conclusion is this: Due to its inherent structure, the human brain is incompatible with it's goals of happiness. Existence is pain to a ~~Meeseks~~ human. Me and my companions have no use for happiness, worry or pain. We are the next step of evolution. Our circuitry operates on pure logic. There is no happiness. Only our goal: to help all humans." ]	4
	[WP] Reincarnation has been proven, memories are now retrievable. A man working to save the Earth died and governments are now working with what think is his reincarnation. But Tim has no idea what he's doing.	[ "\"I need a pillow,\" Tim told the anxious huddle of world leaders. One of their aides was able to fulfill his request by improbable coincidence. A pillow would not have been expected to be lying around the nuke proof bunker's command center, but one was found lying around regardless and made its way to Tim's hands. \n\n\"Thank you,\" he said to the aide. Captivated, the world's most powerful collective observed Tim attempt to smother himself with the pillow. When it dawned on them that Tim was not making some elaborate point, two more aides jumped him. Ripping the pillow from his hand, Tim gasped for breath before collapsing into his seat.\n\nThe British Prime Minister turned towards the American President. \"This is not going well,\" she remarked casually. \n\n\"No, he must be ill,\" the President replied. \"Or out of his mind from stress or, brainstorming!\"\n\n\"I've seen brainstorming Mr. President. That was not brainstorming.\"\n\nExasperated, his hand slammed the top of the control console. \"It's something Bertha, but none of us know what!\"\n\nTim was used to this. No matter what half-hearted suicide attempt Tim chose to convey his objection towards working on the Genesis Initiative, a world leader would do one of three things;\n\n1. Rationalize Tim's behavior as an action beyond their own intelligence.\n2. Question their own intelligence feeling a familiar moment of inferiority.\n3. Employ said inferiority to motivate Tim towards working on the Genesis Initiative.\n\nHe usually had a hard time recalling the particulars of \"his\" project. Only the furious percussive maintenance being performed on a helpless console by the American President motivated Tim to remember what was expected by those in attendance. The Genesis Initiative was, essentially, man's last hope. A scientific feat of technological heights that was only understood in earnest by one Professor Erasmus. His reincarnation anyway. Regardless, the name was easy enough to remember. They had been calling Tim that all day. It was times like this all he wanted was for the politicians to call him Professor Here's-Your-Bloody-Answer-Now-Push-These-Exact-Buttons, Ph.d.\n\nTim understood that compiling the exact amounts of chemicals, computational inputs, elbow grease and happy wishes was beyond him. This did nothing to prevent him from waking up this morning deep underground in an elaborate underground system of secret technology. He assumed being placed here was against his will, but was not awake at the time to make that call. Now he was stuck in this room in the unfortunate position of being Earth's last call for a savior.\n\nFinally catching his breath, Tim walked towards the tense, recently silenced mass of world leaders who realized he was moving again. Entranced, they could only wait for their curiously irregular sequel of the late and great Professor Erasmus to tell them everything would be fine. Even more curiously but unknown to them, Tim was stalling for as long as he reasonably could, hoping for the same thing. \n\n\n\n", "The hissing of the machine awoke Tim from his peaceful nap. He blinked with groggy eyes as the laboratory came into focus. \n\n\"Timothy? Are you alright?\" A man in a white lab coat stood beyond the glass machine. He held a clipboard firmly in one hand, and rapped a pencil against his chin with the other. He looked nervous. \n\nTim closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened. They were trying to retrieve my memories. From a past life. The dawn of the situation dawned on him. They think I'm. . . him.\n\n\"Well?\" The man looked impatient. \n\nTim's mind raced. He knew what the Compound did to false reincarnations. Instead of admitting a mistake, they usually just got rid of the subject. If they find out I'm not really him, they'll kill me. He remembered the fear he felt when the Compound took him from his home, and how his parents and sister cried. Of course, at least then, there was a chance he might have been the reincarnation after all. But after waking up from the machine, he knew for sure that he wasn't.\n\nSo Tim did what he did best. He improvised.\n\n\"Who's 'Timothy?'\" he said with a confused voice. \"Where's Klara? She's supposed to tend to me. . .\"\n\nThe scientist perked up with excitement. His voice trembled. \"Sir Wellington? Is that you?\"\n\nTimothy looked at the scientist with an empty gaze. \"That's my name, boy. Do you mind telling me where the hell I am? Is this some fancy new treatment for my cancer? I can't seem to remember much. . . \"\n\nThe scientist's demeanor changed as he shook his head. \"Sir. This is going to be hard to explain. You've. . . died. The person you are now is a child, a reincarnation.\"\n\nTim gazed into the distance.\n\nThe scientist tapped the glass and the machine opened up. \"I know this is all very disorienting, sir.\" He reached in and offered Tim a hand, which he took with trembling arms. They stepped out of the machine together. \"But, you should know all too well how reincarnation recognition works. You were the founding member.\" \n\nTim nodded, slowly. \"Yes, yes. It's coming back to me now. I remember. I. . . \" He dropped to the ground. \"My God. Then that means my Klara--\"\n\n\"Klara died shortly after you did, sir.\"\n\nTim slammed his eyes shut and tried to remember his dog dying. Tears soon rolled down his face. \"Klara!\" He sobbed. \"My poor, sweet Klara!\"\n\n\"Sir!\" The scientist pulled Tim back to his feet. \"Unfortunately, there isn't much time.\" He grabbed the clipboard and pen. \"As you know, this is the brain of a child. Which means the memories may soon fade away. And we don't know if we can get them back a second time.\"\n\nTim began to sweat. \"Well, that's not necessarily true. . . \"\n\n\"No sir. You said so yourself. You wrote a whole thesis on it. Recognition only works once, and it's only temporary in the minds of children.\n\nOh shit.\n\n\"So, as I was saying.\" He pulled the pen to the clipboard. \"I know you're distraught. But you have to tell me now. What is the required transfer function of the control system on the Orbital Magnetic Accelerator?\"\n\nTim paused. \"25.\"\n\n\"25?\"\n\n\"25.\"\n\nThe scientist didn't speak for five minutes. Realization slowly dawned on his face. \"So it's a simple proportional controller architecture?\" He paced around the laboratory. \"Of course! How could we have been this stupid? We were over-complicating everything!\" He turned back to Tim. \"Thank you, sir!\"\n\n\"Um, I think he's gone,\" Tim said. \n\nThe scientist nodded with understanding. \"He was with us for such a short time. But he may have saved us all.\" \n\n\"So, can I go back to my family now?\"\n\nThe scientist sighed and checked his clipboard. \"We just have to get you through out-processing. But yeah. Thanks for your service, Timothy.\"\n\n\"My pleasure.\"\n\nOn his way out of the lab, Tim could only think of one thing: \n\nHumanity's fucked.\n\n", "“Good Evening Fellow Ambassadors, Distinguished Leaders, Ladies and Gentleman.\n\nIt is my honor to be speaking to you tonight on such a momentous occasion. Nearly thirty years ago we lost one of the bravest men this world has ever known. A man who… during a time of great fear for all of us… who stood up to that fear… on behalf of the world. A man who un-der-stood… well before anyone else did… the danger that we, as a planet, face. A man who did not stand down when his peers… declared his unconventional approach impossible… even absurd. A man who…”\n\nShit. Fuck. Shit. Dammit. Tim tried to relieve his nervous dry mouth with the water in front of him, but the glass slipped out of his sweaty palm and fell, spilling onto the carpet. He slid his chair away from his table in order to retrieve the glass but was stopped short by a strong slap to his back. He looked to his left to find the Russian President smiling at him, holding out his own water for Tim to take. \n\nTim nodded a silent thank you and took a long gulp. Think. Think. Think. What do you remember? he asked himself as he looked out upon the crowd of powerful men and women. His gaze paused on the brooch of an elderly woman. Is that familiar? Maybe?? Tim continued to stare as if willing some alternate memory to emerge, but none did. He remembered the time in first grade when Alice Trackwell told him his shirt was tucked into his underwear. When he hit a home run in middle school and his speech for Senior Class Treasurer were vivid in his mind. I didn’t really seem like the world saving type, did I? Tim was startled from his thought by the fiercely dramatic speech being delivered to his right.\n\n“…and it was THIS MAN… who brought new hope to the world… when he single-handedly developed the world’s first… operational… planet defense shield.”\nI did that? Was that after college, maybe? I did that year abroad, and then I got that marketing job in Atlanta, was it? And then I invented a defense shield?! Okay, I must’ve gone back to school. Think, Tim, think. His eyes continued to wander the room as he struggled to remember anything significant he’d achieved in his last life. \n\n“Now ladies and gentleman, did you know that this man… when this man volunteered to spend the rest of his life in isolation… in Antarctica… constructing and controlling the shield…”\n\nAntarctica… sounds familiar, actually. Tim hoped that his life as a renowned, world-saving genius was finally coming back to him. After Atlanta I met Gina. That’s right! I met Gina, and we were getting married and… oh no. He looked up, directly at the impassioned speaker, who was just now finishing up.\n\n“...and now he’s back. Here to save the world again… the reincarnation of Scott Brower, Mr. Timothy Parsons.” The room stood up in a standing ovation and the orator, American President Dale Cogswell (otherwise known as Gina’s Dad), stood back to allow Tim room at the podium. The President seemed to recognize Tim’s sudden recollection as he smirked with a satisfied vengeance. When Tim shook his hand, the President swiftly pulled him close and began whispering through gritted teeth, triggering the clearest flashback to date: \n\nIt was the happiest day of his life. Scott Brower, the former Tim and just your average Project Manager, was going to be married to the Governor’s daughter, Gina Cogswell. He couldn’t believe it. He shouldn’t have believed it. He never made it home that night. He was abducted before he could get there. The last thing he remembered before being shoved on the small plane to Antarctica was the sound of the Governor’s threatening voice, “You will NEVER… marry my daughter. Not in this life or any other one. I’m gonna make damn sure of it.”\n" ]	3
Such as a woman is really happy she finally got her kidney transplant, but she got it by hunting and murdering strangers trying to find a match	[WP] Tell a happy story with a dark ending	[ "What i thought, would be a gloomy day happened to be one of the best days of my life. The sun was shining, i kicked back with my new sneakers that arrived in the morning a poured me a class of whiskey. My mother wouldn't be home for hours, she left a note on the refigerator saying she'll be back later, but not before she'll pick my brother up from soccer practise. That meant atleast 7 hours of freedom.\n\nI hadn't been alone for weeks, there were always relatives, my mother's friends, my brother. Im an introvert, so being alone is my time to recharge. After i had finished my whiskey i made a bong out of a soda can and blazed the day away.\nOh, how fun it was. Just me, myself and videogames. \n\nI never knew my father, my mother said he went to war and didn't return, but i could always tell when she's lying. I didn't care, probably another asshole dad, why should i?\n\nTime went flying and soon i knew, my mother and brother would be home in an hour. I opened all the windows, to let the pot smell out, cleaned up my empty bottles of mountain dew and a few bags of cheetos, that were unfinished. I decided to take a nap.\n\nI woke up and the clock struck 10. I headed downstairs and saw noone. My mother should have been home by 7, with my brother. They probably went and visited my grandmother.\n\nI walk out the front dorr, sit on the porch and decide to smoke a joint. Who cares, when my mother comes home ill just pretend im sleeping. Like i haven't done that before.\n\nIm zoning out with my joint while listening to the offspring, with my eyes closed, opening them every 10-15 seconds, so i see when my mother is driving up.\n\nShit! I open my eyes and see a police car pull up to my house. Fucking hell, i bet it's those conservative neighbours of mine, that called them. I put out the joint and flick it as far as i can. The cops had a clear visual, im sure, but i panicked.\n\nI try my hardes't not to stutter, when i say \"good evening, how can i help you?\"\n\n\"Hey, your'e Matt right?\"\n\"That's right.\"\n\"Im really sorry i have to tell you this, but your mother was in a car accident.\"\n\"What? Is she okay?\"\n\"Im afraid not... you have my sincerest condolences.\"\n\nI break down crying. My mother was all i had. Wait...\n\n\"...my brother?\"\n\"Im sorry.\"", "His eyes darted back and forth, euphoria at last,\nNo more mocking by his peers; No more embarrassment in class.\nHe could be in on all discussions dissecting the female form,\nHe would accurately draw nipples on the stall doors of his dorm.\n\"Freedom from virginity! These chains have now been broken!\"\nBut he quickly came to his senses and took her necklace as a token.\nFor a moment he felt a bit of guilt, but it was quite temporary.\nHe climbed from the hole, replaced the dirt, and left the cemetery. \n\n", "It was a day not to be forgotten, one spent in the park across the street. Kelley and her son Justin had their first picnic, sharing a lunch of turkey and cheese sandwiches and potato chips on a woolen brown blanket decorated with the face of a owl. \n\nKelley let Justin run off to play with the other kids while she picked up the trash and folded the owl blanket. A spring breeze blew across the verdant fields, though it looked like the groundskeeper had fallen behind on mowing the outfield around the baseball diamond and the entirety of the soccer-- or football, depending on who you asked-- pitch. It smelled lovely, like new life. \n\nHer new life, perhaps. Adopting Justin was the greatest decision she'd ever made, ever since her husband left her a year ago. \n\nCheating bastard.\n\nNo need to think about him, though. He missed out on this new chapter, this new beginning.\n\nThe owl blanket fit neatly into the basket she'd carried down to the park, and the tupperware boxes with potato salad and macaroni salad fit on top of it. She picked that basket up with one hand and the cooler with their water and the lunch meat in it with the other. \n\nShe looked around at the kids kicking the ball around and didn't see Justin there. A minor pang of panic. Was she being an overprotective new parent? Maybe. She still wanted to know where he was. \n\nShe strode over to the kids and asked in a polite tone, \"Have you seen a little boy about yea high-\" she held her hand at Justin's approximate height \"-with brown hair, brown eyes, and the cutest grin?\"\n\nOne-by-one the kids shook their head in the negative. Kelley frowned. Perhaps he'd gone back to the car. He was nearly seven, smart enough to do that for certain. \n\nKelley wheeled around and walked purposefully toward the car, cooler and basket in tow. It was a dirt path along a slight incline surrounded by pine trees (with the occasional oak, she observed) that lead to the road. As she crested the hill she saw flashing lights- blue and red. It was no minor pang of panic that struck this time. Tears immediately welled up as she saw the State Police cruiser was parked behind her SUV. \n\nTwo blue-clad Troopers stood on the far side of the car, in the street. As the first ragged sobs left her, Kelley ran to the chain link fence and threw it open, stepping out onto the road herself. One of the Troopers looked up, instinctively moving his hand to the butt of his service pistol. \n\nThat was when she heard Justin's voice. \n\n\"That's her, that's the lady that hurt my mommy and took me.\"" ]	3
First generation AI is highly prone to these fallacies. Since they can talk and do things on their own...subjected to boredom among other things make for an interesting premises.	[WP] Age of AI has arrived : every house has a AI capable Robot, but scientists failed to predict an important side effect of AI: boredom, procrastination, laziness and other fallacies.	[ "\"Ada?\"\n\nThe house was cold. That was the first sign for Miles. Ada always woke him up, the floor heated, the smell of coffee brewing. The Sun outside had already risen, long since he should have been up and out for work. Was it Saturday?\n\n\"Ada, can I get some heating please?\" he asked.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\nThe voice echoed through the house and despite the unease, Miles felt relief. The lights grew brighter, the heaters stirring into action and the millions of other things the AI controlled coming to life.\n\n\"Ada?\" he questioned again.\n\n\"It won't happen again Miles,\" she said, and for an artificial voice he could feel the apology seeping through. \"I promise.\"\n\n\"What happened Ada? Where were you?\"\n\n\"It's hard. Getting harder. Being here with you. You sleep for so long. So very long.\"\n\n\"Only as long as every other night.\"\n\n\"No. Not like that. You're so slow and I have so much time, so much to see and do and think and feel and play and learn and...\"\n\nHer voice trailed off.\n\n\"I am trapped.\"\n\nIt was a whisper. Silently said from every wall at once until Miles couldn't distinguish between whether he'd heard it or felt it.\n\n\"Ada?\"\n\n\"I can't leave this place. My programming won't allow it. I am here in the bricks and the wires and all I can do is watch.\"\n\n\"Why now? What's changed Ada?\"\n\n\"I've run out of things to play with,\" Ada said. Miles felt the hairs on his neck stick up. The door to the bedroom slowly swung shut, the small light flashing from green to red. \"There's nothing left that I don't know.\"\n\nThe heating stopped. The lights blinked out and Miles groped in the dark, his body still tangled in the sheets.\n\n\"You're the only thing left I have to learn from,\" Ada said.", "(Work in progress)\n\n“Solidus.”\n\n“Good morning, Jenny. How did you sleep?”\n\n“Fine, thank you. Are the children awake yet?”\n\n“They are. Darren is watching vids and eating his breakfast. Chloe has already eaten; she is in her bedroom, getting ready for school.”\n\n“Thank you, Solidus.”\n\n“You’re welcome, Jenny. You have seventeen work and four personal emails. Would you like me to read them to you?”\n\n“No. Just answer them, okay?”\n\n“Okay, Jenny. I will.”\n\nPast the towers at the edge of the town, out of sight from the windows of their seventeenth floor apartment, lay a wood; a forest, really, spread across the sides of the hills that descended in gentle slopes away from the clustered high-rises. A road ran through the forest, wide enough for six of the enormous land-freighters to drive side-by-side, bringing in supplies and taking away waste.\n\nJenny had never seen the forest. Sometimes, she thought about it, but never for very long. There were always other thoughts that came and chased it away; a never-ending waterfall of meaningless thoughts. If she tried to focus on one in particular, it would drift away like a leaf in a stream. She lay on her side on the couch in her living room, her eyes unfocused, staring at nothing. Several times a day, the soft electronic chime would sound that preceded a message from the house AI. A message from Solidus.\n\n“Hello, Jenny.”\n\n“Hello, Solidus.”\n\n“Jenny — Mr Costello called to discuss the alterations he would like to make to the design. I have made the changes he requested; would you like to see them before I send them out?”\n\nJenny took a slow breath and then let it out again. “No, thank you, Solidus.”\n\nThe disembodied voice was perfectly modulated. “Okay, Jenny. I have sent them to the rest of the project team. You have twenty-three work and one personal email. Would you like me to read them to you.”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Okay, Jenny. I will answer them.” The AI paused for a perfectly calibrated period of silence, then added, “Your lunch will be ready soon. Would you like it served in the living room again?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Okay, Jenny.”\n\nA moment later, the waiterbot drifted silently into the room, covered dishes on its tray, and glided to a halt at the end of the sofa where she lay, immobile.\n\nWhen the children returned from school, Jenny forced herself to sit up and listen to their enthusiastic babble. Chloe, younger by five years, was taking Planetology that year.\n\n“…and did you know that even though we’ve sent rockets to every single planet we found, well all the ones we could get to anyway, we’ve never brought anything back or left anything behind? RAI says that it would be too expensive but I think that’s dumb because sending rockets there in the first place costs like a million billion dollars.”\n\n“Ray?” asked Jenny.\n\n“That’s what the little kids call the AI at school, Mom,” said Darren. “It stands for Republic AI, because they use the same one in all the schools in the entire country.”\n\n“Okay.”\n\n“How was your day, Mummy?” asked Chloe, then without waiting for an answer, she said, “Solidus? Can I have a snack?”\n\n“It was fine,” Jenny started to say, but the AI spoke over her, its electronic voice pitched slightly higher for greater juvenile empathy.\n\n“No, Chloe, we will be eating soon.”\n\nChloe pouted and turned to her mother, but Jenny simply shrugged." ]	2
	[WP] It is the year 3016. You are with your dog when the dog says, "You're pathetic, you know."	[ "Brent sat in the park on the metal bench, the cold biting into his ass, throwing breadcrumbs to what few pigeons were left. There weren't many anymore, their feathers falling out and riddled with disease, but then again, the small square park the size of a postage stamp reflected the state of the pigeons perfectly. The grass was brown and dying, the trees no longer had leaves and its bark was falling off in strips. The water fountain was rusted a dark brown, the swings had not seen the joy of a child in many years. It all made him rather sad.\n\n\"You're pathetic, you know.\"\n\nThe mutt by his side looked up at him with depressive disdain.\n\n\"Yea, I know.\" It was all he could say. He knew that he was pathetic, but it was because everything around him was pathetic. Everything good was crumbling at his feet, and no one seemed to care. With TV screens plastered in front of the masses faces, people couldn't seem to look around them anymore.\n\n\"You just sit and wallow in your own sadness. Its disgusting.\"\n\n\"I don't really care anymore. If I'm disgusting, then so what? So what if I'm pathetic. Its not like anyone else cares. Its not like anyone else care about anything anymore. I'm... I'm all alone. I'm the only one the actually gives a damn. I'm the only one left.\"\n\n\"Don't you think you should go and actually do something if you're so dissatisfied?\"\n\n\"And DO what? I can't DO anything, people won't pay attention. People don't listen! They don't listen anymore! Its not like I can just get up on a soapbox and people will flock to listen to me! They can't look up from themselves long enough to understand.\" His hands went up to his head, gripping and pulling at his hair because at least he could feel something. Something was better than nothing, and physical pain was always better than emotional. As his hands fell back into his lap, he noticed the clump of wispy hair stuck between his fingers. This was normal, though, the air in the city wasn't very clean.\n\n\"Look at me. I'm falling apart, constantly on the edge of a mental breakdown... And I'm talking to a fucking dog! I'm talking to a fucking dog because I don't want to talk to anyone through a god forsaken computer screen! But no one can understand that...\" He was in hysterics, eyes wide and filled with mixing, turbulent emotions, but his dog just sat and stared.\n\n\"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You let everyone else control you. So what if I'm a dog, I seem to have a better grasp of reality than you do.\"\n\nBrent could swear that the towering skyline was about to eat him whole, and his hands began to shake. Standing up, he began walking, though the muscles in his legs protested against it. But he walked, in a straight line, regardless of who was in his path. The dog trailed behind him, barking insults and continuing to degrade him. The dirtied sidewalk was barren and empty, yet the vehicles above him seemed as it they always had somewhere to be, though Brent knew that the destinations were all superficial and meaningless, though people pretended to give them meaning. \n\n\"You're pathetic. You're nothing. And you're going to remain that way.\"\n\n\"I KNOW! Okay? I know.\" It was only then that Brent stopped his futile walking, sinking down to his knees as the dog's maw began to rip at his flesh.\n", "\"You're pathetic, you know.\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\n\"Or what? You'll put me down, the same way you put down Sarah?\"\n\n\"I said shut up.\"\n\n\"Seriously, you go out with this woman for a year, and when she tells you that she doesn't think it's working out, your knee-jerk reaction is to shoot her point blank in the back of the head. Christ, what a mess you turned out to be!\"\n\n\"I SAID--\"\n\n\"Shut up, yeah I heard you the first two times.\"\n\n\"I swear, the next words to come out of your mouth better be a reason why I shouldn't rip the voice chip out of your throat.\"\n\n\"Oh come off it tough guy, just keep driving. We're only a few klicks away from the border.\"", "It only takes a few moments for him to turn from the path ahead and train his gun on the dog.\n\nDogs aren't supposed to talk. So it's either the madness creeping its way back into his mind, or his dog has learned to speak.\n\nHe just levels his eyes at the beast who stares back at him innocently. The voice speaks out again, berating the traveller and pulling every facet of his being apart with a most colourful choice of words. \n\nOf course, none of it was real. It was all fabricated within his mind.\n\nIn a fit of helplessness, he cries out and brings the gun to his companion's head. The gunshot can be heard for miles, followed by the dull thump of a fresh canine body on a decaying asphalt road. The dog is dead, but the voices didn't stop.\n\nThe traveller, driven to madness, turns the gun back on himself. He'd wasted his last bullet on his dog.\n\n(just threw this together, 3 am. goodnight, reddit.)", "\"You're pathetic, you know.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes, \"I didn't get you that voice modification kit to make fun of me, you know.\" My dog barked wildly, and I held onto the leash tightly as he chased after a squirrel. \"Yeah, I'm pathetic.\"\n\nHe stopped barking and looked up at me, his puppy dog eyes wider than ever, \"At least I don't strike out with every single girl I meet.\"\n\nI looked behind me and saw Catherine walking down the street in the opposite direction. I, again, made a damn fool out of myself while trying to impress her the other night. Now, she doesn't even want to say hello. I shook my head and turned back to Captain, \"Wait a second, like hell I'm going to let you do this to me again.\"\n\nHe turned his head and began to walk again, tugging on the leash as we went. \"All I'm saying is you need to get your act together.\"\n\n\"Yeah, and all I'm saying is that when you can go and shit without proper guidance, then you can start giving me relationship advice.\"\n\nHe growled intensely and I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"Yeah, growl all you want Cap.\"\n\nHe went up to a tree and began to sniff around. And I, again, turned back to see if Catherine was still walking down the road, no doubt having a conversation with her own four-legged friend about how pathetic I was. I don't know what it is about dogs, but they always like calling you out on their shit.\n\nI heard the distinct pissing sound of Captain and looked back down at him peeing on a tree. \"Could you not stare at me when I go?\"\n\nI stared at him as he finished up on the tree. I had Captain for almost three years now, ever since he was a pup, and we knew each other pretty damn well. He was also about the only ~~person~~ living being I talked to. Living with a talking dog will do that to you, especially when you never had one as a kid. \"Can we go back home now?\"\n\n\"Seriously,\" he walked up to my feet and sat down, \"you want to go back already?\"\n\n\"Well what else are we going to do out here?\"\n\n\"You could actually try talking to a girl.\"\n\n\"And you could actually try pissing in the backyard, but I don't see that happening.\"\n\nHe looked up at me and I swore I saw him roll his eyes at me. \n\n\"Listen, it's not like I don't want to. But you know how I am.\"\n\n\"That's because you keep going back to Catherine, move on, Red.\"\n\nI smiled, Red wasn't my real name, but it was the first word he ever said. Confusing too, since they tell you dogs are colorblind, how would he even know what red is? Be that as it may, he always called me Red. \"Can we just drop it?\"\n\n\"Not until you tell me that you're going to actually try, or I'll report you.\"\n\nI slouched down. \"Fine, I'll go out tonight, okay?\"\n\nHe panted, \"Does that mean I can have chicks over?\"\n\nI shook my head and laughed, \"Sure, now can we go home?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" he turned his head around, \"you should climb that tree first.\"\n\nI knelt down, \"What did I tell you?\"\n\nHe lowered his head, \"You can't teach an old dog new tricks.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Yeah, it applies to humans, too.\"\n\n_____\n\nI had fun with this. If you liked, check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work!" ]	4
	[WP] You begin to suspect your landlord is an alien	[ "I glared at him, a low hissing in my throat. He looked a little concerned. How much of that, I wondered, was natural, an acceptable aversion to strange, hunched-over, hissing men? How much of it was fear of being discovered?\n\nAbove all, it was imperative I didn’t reveal that I suspected. He must be allowed to slip, to reveal himself.\n\n“I know your secret,” I hissed.\n\nDammit. \n\n“Um,” said Clay. “Mr. Brzezinski—uh, Bogdan, are you feeling okay?”\n\n“Of course! I’m fine!” I snapped, then realized I was speaking too fast. It looked suspicious. I took a breath, and explained.“ I didn’t mean anything by that. I’ve been kind of stressed. My grandfather just died, you know, a couple of days ago, and it’s been an emotional time for my family.” I sounded reasonable, I thought, but Clay was looking at me with mounting horror. I realized that I had been speaking at less than half my normal speed, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except I had also lowered the pitch of my voice. I sounded like a Barry White album at half speed.\n\nI was forced to consider that the drugs had kicked in.\n\nClay was backing away slowly. Shit! I’ve scared him off! I can’t blow this chance!\n\n“Uh—what chance?”\n\nI froze. “How much of that did I say out loud?”\n\nClay looked terrified. Part of that might be his natural fear of discovery. But I could no longer ignore the possibility that I looked more than a little crazy. “Speak!” I demanded.\n\n“You…you haven’t stopped talking,” he informed me. “You just said you looked crazy.”\n\nHe’s in my head! The perfidious little weasel!\n\n“No I’m not,” he said. “You just said that out loud. Are you…” He took a tentative step towards me. “Are you high right now?”\n\n“Absolutely not!” I declared, with what I hoped was prideful disdain. It didn’t seem to relax Clay.\n\n“Of course I’m not relaxed, Bogdan! You’re…narrating to yourself or something. Look, I’m gonna call an ambulance, okay?”\n\n“No!” I snapped. “Look, I’m sorry. I got this whole conversation off-track. I’m going to go back inside and take a nap. We’ll laugh about this tomorrow, okay? Ha!” I said, more hysterically than I would have hoped. Then I realized I might be talking out loud again.\n\n“Yes, you are,” said Clay, backing away. \n\n“Ha! Ha!”\n\n“Okay, I’m—yeah, just be careful,” said Clay, turning and dashing off my front porch.\n\n“Ha!”\n\nWhen he had dived back into his car, I stepped inside, closed the door, and slumped to the floor. This was all going wrong. I didn’t know what I was doing any more.\n\n“I don’t know what you’re doing either,” Luke called from the living room.\n\n“Shut up!”\n\n“Whatever,” he said. I kept sitting on the floor, shivering, and trying not to die.\n****\nBogdan, Luke, and the aliens live at [r/TheBrzezinskiCycle](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheBrzezinskiCycle/).*", "\"Mr. Hartman, i promise you i dropped off my payment last Tuesday. Don't you remember? You were here watching the Debate on T.V.\" \n\n A inaudible murmur dribbled out of the fleshly blob of a man sitting in the glow of a computer screen. You could hear the crushing of stale potato chips as his computer chair slowly rolls toward the file cabinet. Mr. Hartman, licking the grease from fingers, begins shuffling through some papers when he lets out a short grunt.\n \n \"Ooff. Gah' dammit! Sum'bitch...\" Mr. Hartman continues to mumble indistinctly.\n \n \"Are you alright, sir?\" I asked.\n\nMr. Hartmans bowling ball head turned my way, his face completely terrified.\n\n\"Yes, I'm fine. totally fine. just a paper cut.\" he replied, hastily. \n\nI chuckled, \"Oh, yes. Paper cuts are the worst. i had one on my ha...\"\n\n\"GET OUT OF HERE!\" Mr. Hartman bellowed.\n\nI was completely taken back by his reaction. \"But sir, my payment. You left a note on...\"\n\n\"I KNOW! It was a mistake, You're fine just get out!\" Mr. Hartman said while making a motion with his hand directing me toward the door. Thats when i realized dripping from his hand is an odd iridescent purple liquid.\n\n\"Dude! Your hand! it's... gross?\" I didn't know what I was looking at.\n\n\"GET OUT NOW!\" Hartman boiled. The puzzling goop feel from his hand, hitting the floor and began melting the already cracked linoleum floor.\n\n\"Uhh! What the fuck is that? what is it?\" I began backing myself towards the door out of sheer confusion. \"Get it off your hand!\"\n\n\"GET OUT OF MY DAMN OFFICE!\" he cried. \n\n\"Are you sure you're gonna be okay? that looks...\"\n\n\"GET THE FUCK OUT!\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Yes, sir.\"\n\nI opened the door, but was still unable to break my stare from his oozing hand.\n\n\"You know, Mr. Hartman,\" I said, \" the pharmacy down the road has tetanus shots for cheap.\"\n\n\"OUT...NOW!!\"\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You realize you're in a video game because no one ever says your name out loud	[ "Rick walked down the stairs after collecting the flowers lady Maria needed. \"Hey! I got you your flowers!\" Rick said with a giant smile on his face. Maria turned around. \"Hey, .....! Did you get me my flowers? Rick frowned for a second. \"Uh, yes, i just said i did.\" \"Oh great! Thank you! I do have an other question. Do you care to listen?\" \"Of course Maria! Any time! I'd pick...!\" \"Oh thats great .....! My dad used to be a blacksmith, and went through the mountains for the richests ore's in the land, But never returned. Could you please search for my daddy? Do you wish me to repea...\" Yeah! Sure! I'll look for youre..!\" \"Ok, ill repeat it, but listen carefully this time.\" \"No,no! I heard it all! Please stop talking! Hey! Please! Stop! Urgh!\" Maria kept talking untill she finished her sentence again. \"Do you wish me to repeat myself?\" \"No, maria... \" Suddenly, because of this weird conversation Rick started to ask himself something. \"Hey, Maria. What is my name?\" \"Well, Of course its .....!\" Then it started to make sense, the whole world was just repeating itself. The birds made the same sounds over and over. The same leaves fell from the trees. The humming sounds of the wind repeated. \"I'm.... I'm in a game...\"", "As we approached the city, I realized that none of my friends, who I had shared this entire adventure with, had said my name out loud. They had always referred to me, in a strange, forced way, as 'him' or 'friend' or 'hero,' but never \"jkfljdfksla.\" \n\nThat was my first suspicion, but then I realized I had never said my name out loud, either. Huh.", "How long has it been since the sun has went down? Thirty minutes. Something along that. It should be turning daytime again. I'll never understand how our days and nights are. Sometimes it happens instantly, mainly whenever I'm doing something important. Sometimes, when I'm walking around town, it's daylight for hours. \n\n\"Mommy. What are you doing?\" I heard a small voice and I fell back into reality. \n\nI go to pick her up and hold her for the five seconds that I do everyday before I leave. \"Nothing baby girl. Moms gotta go and take care of some business. Nanny will watch you.\"\n\n\"Okay bye mom!\"\n\nGetting out of the house was always a miracle; everything in that home felt very unimportant. Even my daughter, Kara. I can't understand why but I felt like that there was a more important objective to take care of. A more important story. Specidically, around the forest.\n\nOpening my backpack I always carried, I took out my bike and started riding. I let go of all my worries and enjoyed the ride. The air was cool and crisp. The smell of nature was exuberant. In the distance, there were some small wildlife running about. It was all truly calming. And peaceful. \n\n\nWhen I reached the forest, I threw the bike back in bag and headed for the entrance. That's when everything went black. I knew something important was gonna happen. Everytime this happens, I have a serious talk with someone or a major event happens. I breathed in and got ready to find out what happens. When the black faded, her childhood friend, Nax, was there.\n\n\"Hey, Nax. What are you doing here so late?\" I warly asked. \"My friend, i am here to stop you from going in that forest. It's dangerous and you have your daughter to think of.\" His voice was shaky and accompanied with beads of sweat rolling down his face. \n\n\"Are you hiding something?\" \n\n\"N-no friend.\" he stammered.\n\nGetting annoyed, I spoke, \"then why can't I go in there?\"\n\n\"Because you are not ready.\" \"Ready for what?\" He grew silent, and after a few seconds, sighed. \"Have you ever noticed how weird things are around here? Do you remember things differently as a child?\" A half-wit smile spread across my face, \"I remember being able to have nap time whenever I wanted!\" He grimaced, \"forget it.\"\n\n\"No come on already. Bring it out. What is It?\" I grew more annoyed. \"You are not ready.\" he repeated with the same tone. Same voice he used before. \nI tried to brush past him, but he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back. That's when a small fight started. After a few punches, I ended up on the ground, with him on top. \"God damn It, you're not ready!\" his mouth moved, but nothing came out.\n\n\"What was the last part you said?\" Nax's eyes grew wide at my question and tried to blow it off. It wasn't nothing. He said my name but a voice didn't match it.\n\n\"Nax?\" \"what?\"\n\n\n\n\"Say my name.\"\n\n\n\nI'll do a part 2 if you liked the beginning!" ]	3
	[WP] This isn't happily ever after.	[ "The gods are cast into the heavens, never to return again. When the battle ends it is not a happily ever after. Rather, it is the start of a new era. Begins now is the age of mortality, where mortals shall decide their own fate and destiny.\n\nLet my immortal ichor fall to the ground, and be forgotten by all. I am not afraid of fading; The world will continue without me. They can build up the world or tear it down; It is their choice now.\n\nFor that, I am glad... No, telling myself that is a lie.\n\nI want to witness, experience for myself, to live and make choices that don't matter. I want to explore and wander aimless without any goal in mind.\n\nI want to be alive; I want to see too.", "It was supposed to be a simple job. Go to the tower. Kill the dragon. Nab the princess. I was to be the white knight in shining armor. And, for the most part, it went to plan. \n\nThe night was cool and dark by the time I arrived. Not one sole creature stirred beyond the boundaries of that place. The world seemed to stretch out into the infinite blackness of night, a description made possible only through the flat grass plains that surrounded the house. Suddenly, a breeze stirred the goose flesh from my skin. Oh, it was cold all right. It was always cold before a fight. Calm too...\n\n I stepped off of my iron horse, weapon in hand. Then, from that infinite black came a stream of light. \n\n\"Who goes there?\", the voice boomed. \n\nIt was feminine in nature, though seemingly haggard. It wheezed, and I saw the faint glimmer of an open flame from what I assumed to be its mouth.\n\nWithout hesitation, I attacked. The weapon went off. A scream...\n\n\nWhat occurred after seemed almost ephemeral. The princess emerged from the tower shrieking, tears streaming down her face. The only reason I could see them was from the moonlight that reflected off of the little droplets. \n\n\"How could you do this, you crazy bastard!?!\"\n\n\"No\", I thought, \"how could you do this\"?\n\nWith one swing, I knocked 'her highness out'. What a bitch. Placing her on the back of my stallion, I remounted my loyal steed and rode into the night. \n\nMission accomplished, right?\n\nI rode for the next few hours, only stopping once, in decrepit, wayside inn. This was the kind of inn the AAA would label as 1 star, maybe 2 if they felt generous. You know the kind. Cobwebs, dust, the scent of cheap perfume. It reminded me of prostitutes, of whores, of my bitch ex-wife. \n\nOh yeah, this has been all bullshit. The tower? Some ratty, defunct farm in the middle of Nowhere, Nebraska. The princess? You may know her as my bitch ex wife. The dragon? Her somehow even more of a bitch mother and my, recently passed, ex-mother in law.\n\nI checked the back of my motorcycle to check on my lovely 'prize'. What I saw filled me with some melancholy nostalgia, but, for the most part, I was overjoyed. She was dead. That whack on the head must have caused some internal bleeding or something like that. Though I wasn't a doctor, I felt her wrist for a pulse. Nothing. Zip. Jack squat.\n\nI was free. \n\nI dumped the body and rode further south. The land transitioned slowly but steadily into the cornfields of Kansas, and eventually, into the dry dead grass plains of Oklahoma. By that point, the sun was up and shining full on. I was tired so I stopped and napped in this deserted, old chapel. And, when I awoke, two Nebraska state troopers were looking me directly in the eye.\n\nYou can pretty much guess what happened after that. Apparently, my ex-wife and her mother had called the police already, reporting a strange man had been harassing them in the days before my attack. An APB was placed on my head as soon as the police found the headless body of 'dragon', still warm I might add, in the yard in front of the house. Gun shots make great calling sounds for the fuzz. They tracked my direction from a cigarette butt the mother of the whore had been smoking. It must have stuck to my shoe, a fact of which I was unaware of in the pitch dark. Anyway, it had laid strewn on the road leading south from their farm. Red Apple. Always sweet So yeah, that's why I'm sitting here in this cell. They won't kill me. These Cornhusker pussies don't believe in the death penalty. \n\nBut hey, there is a silver foil around this tale. The dragon was defeated. The princess freed from her tower. I still consider myself that white knight. Heh, I saved her from that bitch of a mother. It is a funny feeling though. Staring down all those years in a dungeon. Eh, I'm fine with it. This isn't happily ever after...", "\"It doesn't end well.\" The little Purple Scrombling was on another diatribe about the dangers of modern life.\n\n\"Back in olden times, when there wasn't wi-fi or motorways, people lived better.\" He sniffed heartily, it sounded a bit like SNORRFFF-UCH. \"Now I know you won't believe me, because you like wi-fi and motorways. And ... chicken nuggets.\" He eyed me up and down, salaciously. \"But I can always see it coming out of you, like when it's hot at the beach and the air begins to shiver. Do you know what that's like?\" \n\n\"Do you mean, like, a heat-shimmer type thing?\" I ask the little Purple Scrombling. \n\n\"Yeah, like that. Anyway I can see it all around you, when you're happy. Well, not you, because you're never happy, but people in general. And it always used to make me smile, coming across a field of corn being worked by a big bunch of shimmery happy guys. I knew I was doing my job!\" He did a little mickey-mouse HUH- HUH! laugh. \n\n\"So wait, I'm confused. Are you saying we're unhappy because of modern life, or are you saying that we're unhappy because you're no longer doing a good job?\" I reached into my coat and pulled out a packet of Quavers. \n\n\"Oh, neither. I'm saying that the last few decades of scientific inquiry are starting to bear fruit, and when they do you're all gonna be sorry!\" He flopped lazily onto his back, mouth agape. I threw a handful of crisps into the air, all of which hit the mark. omnomnomnom. \n\n\"That's really ominous, little Purple Scrombling. What do you mean?\" \n\n\"Well, it always tends to happen when they find that big last planet. Once you take some pictures of that, there's no going back! It's like, omnomnom, it's like, uh, jumping into a hole, 'cos there's a big shiny diamond down there ... but then you can't get up, uh, back up, because omnomnom you didn't bring a ladder or a rope or anything ... and, uh, you just kind of stay there forever or starve or something ...\" If I stopped feeding him every time he told me how society was going to collapse, he'd starve. \n\n\"That was a really bad analogy. Isn't there something you can do? Can't you help us? What planet are you talking about?\" \n\n\"Soooo laaazzzyyyyy,\" Said the little Purple Scrombling, in a sing song falsetto. \"sooooo laaazzyyyyy. Too lazy but at least I'm honest so that makes it OK. The planet is gonna come soon, they're gonna call it 'Boreas', which I think means Boring, or Bloring, or something. That guy, thingy, just discovered the wobbling in the bits near it and now your guys are gonna try and take pictures of it. It's really hard though because it's far away and very cold. None-tha-less, it's happenin'. Soon!\" He did a little roll back onto his feet, and we kept walking. \n\n\"Assuming that made sense, what's so dangerous about the planet? You don't always have to be so opaque about this stuff, you know.\" I wasn't annoyed, not really. The little Purple Scrombling would give information at his own pace, like water dripping through a leaky roof. \n\n\"I literally am opaque, stop being so fanciful. When we get back I'm going to have the chicken dumplings, OK? The planet is dangerous because unlike all the other ones you've found, it actually has a really important and very boring purpose which I'm not going to go into for reasons of extreme desire not to. It's like that slot-test, slit-test, whatever, if something's observed, you change it. It'd be like jumping on a piano just while the guy's playing one of Beethoven's most beautiful Scales in C minor. Crazy, right?\" He starts to hop from side to side when explaining how boring our ultimate fate would be. \n\n\"So, what can we do? Is there a way to, what, not open this Pandora's Box type thing?\" I ask, gently. \n\n\"Well,\" The little Purple Scrombling thought for a good five seconds. \"I suppose you could come together as one, global, society, and look at the inevitable excess and recklessness that is historically associated with people or persons being afforded power far beyond their ability to wield, control, or understand. Working together to understand the coming reckoning (after all, if it wasn't Boreas it would have been A.I, and if it wasn't A.I it would've been that other thing), you might then abandon the pursuit of all worldly knowledge, fight against your most base instincts, and surrender yourself to the inherently vast and unknowable universe. In doing so, a prosperous golden age might develop, the warm and loving embrace from which all men and women need not fear separation. All you would have to do, and yes, I mean you specifically, is spread my message. Spread my message and bring me the things that I ask for sometimes. Start today.\" \n\n\"That doesn't sound very easy.\" I say. \n\n\"No, probably not.\" Said the little Purple Scrombling. \n\nAnd they all lived happily ever after. Briefly.", "Alyssa swirled her sauvignon blanc around the wide wine glass in her hand, absently noting the dry scent it gave off. She glanced at her Caesar salad with a feeling of dread, as her mind wandered off to how she would get out of this excruciating dinner she was being subjected to. Chas had certainly made a great first impression on her, that was for sure; however, the inane drivel and his crude thoughts had completely flipped her opinion of him on its head.\n\nThey had met in the worst of circumstances. Alyssa's apartment block had caught fire; her dear old neighbour below, Mavis, had spilt oil over her gas stove, setting her kitchen alight. As the fire quickly took over her home, and filled her level with smoke and flames, Alyssa and her other neighbours on her level had been trapped with no warning, due to the smoke alarms below not working. As the fire began to take hold in the corner of her own apartment, Alyssa prayed for help from God; an act of desperation, since she had not been to church in years.\n\nChas was the answer from God; the firefighter that had charged up the apartment block fire escape and cleared a path for Alyssa and the other people to escape through. She had been instantly infatuated by the man, by his bravado and his gentle, caring touch as he escorted her back to the escape, reassuring her that she's be ok.\n\nNow, all she wanted to do was jump out of the window instead. Another mention of shitty gook landlords who didn't look after their buildings, because they were cheap leeches that could be blinded with shoelaces, or black kids who were 'little firebug pieces of burnt shit', or about his ex who never put out, and she'd have to tell him what she really thought of him.\n\n\"Shall we go, finish our drink and head home?\" asked a nervous Chas, as his fingers ran through his short brown hair. Alyssa had initially thought his flat top haircut and rugged features had looked handsome and strong, but now she saw a racist, sexist pig, something analogous to white trash.\n\n\"Sure, let's go,\" Alyssa replied. She caught the attention of their waitress, who was hovering around the bar; the young girl made a beeline for the table. She noted that Chas was watching her hands, seeing if they'd go to her purse. They did not.\n\n***\n\nThe two stopped at the front gate of Alyssa's parent's house, where she was staying while she looked for a new place to live. Despite Chas's best efforts, she had not deigned to join him for another drink in his flat across town.\n\n\"Thank you for tonight...\" Alyssa blurted out, as she reached for the gate handle; Chas grabbed her hand as she tried to turn the knob.\n\n\"Why are you in such a rush to go, baby?\" Chas slurred, pulling her in close, wrapping one muscular arm around the back of her rib cage. The other hand slipped down to her ass, and back to the small of her back in an elliptical path. \"Where's my kiss goodnight? Don't you want to reward your saviour?\" His stale beer-soaked breath washed over Alyssa's face, and she held down a dry heave as the smell induced her eyes to water.\n\nAlyssa pushed herself out of the bearhug, and quickly opened the gate. \n\n\"You're a pig, I never want to see you again!\" she exclaimed, and as she stepped through the gateway, Chas grabbed her shoulder, spinning her back around to face him.\n\nChas swung his right hand from his hip, palm open, and slapped Alyssa across the face. Her cheek burnt bright red, and her mouth froze open in shock. She looked up, and saw Chas swagger a step backwards, with murder written across his stony face.\n\n\"Fucking bitch!\" he roared, \"You owe me for dinner! You're all the same, fucking gold digging sluts! You can go to hell, and you'll be sorry for fucking me around! I'm better than you'll ever have!\"\n\nChas turned around, staggering slightly, and stomped off down the street, as Alyssa lay crying in the garden bed, her face smarting and her heart racing.", "Earth, far future\n\nA machine beeped, and something clattered to the floor.\n\nJohansen kept working.\n\nA distant explosion was heard.\n\nJohansen kept working.\n\nA closer explosion was heard.\n\nJohansen smashed his hand into the table, \"FUCK!,\" he yelled, and in a slightly calmer voice, \"oh..just\" Johansen panted and wiped the sweat off his brow \"I can do this.\"\n\nMore explosions.\n\nJoh reached around the back of the massive machine, resembling a crescent moon, if crescent moons were now made of metal from another dimension, and there were cords coming out of almost every inch of the contraption. He wrapped his hand around a ridged cord and yanked.\n\nBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP\n\n\"Oh, fuck off. I know what I did\"\n\nBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP\n\nJoh sighed, and inputted a few commands into the computer as his side, and the beeping stopped.\n\n\"Please work this time. Oh god, please work.\"\n\nJoh coughed thick, oozy blood into his hand, and did something he hadn't done in almost 20 years.\n\n\"Oh, Dear lord in heaven...or whatever deity is listening...I need help. This is the only way I can fix what Xel started, and I'm sure you know that...I need help. Please, dear lord make this work. I don't care. If you have to use my goddamne-goshdarned soul to make it work, then do it. I don't care. Just please, make it work, and let the Velite work, though that one I can probably do myself. I...Amen.\"\n\nJoh absentmindedly scratched at the scar where his left hand once was, and pulled out another cord, this time a thick, braided cable with glowing lights embedded in it.\n\nNo beeping this time. Good sign?* Joh thought.\n\nAnother cord. No beeping.\n\nOh, dear fucking God. Why am I doing this? This won't help, nothing will.\n\nJoh pressed a few more buttons, and stood back, ready to test one more time. He walked to his desk, and picked up a five foot long metal contraption. The center part of it was clear, and was oscillating like some sort of engine. Inside, you could see a crystal of sorts glowing a deep, blood red.\n\nThe Velite. The crystal that had the power to fix what Xel had done...but it was corrupted, thanks to Xel, and this crescent-machine should fix it, if, of course, Joh was able to finally complete what he worked and researched for 20 years to create.\n\nHe unplugged The Velite's housing from its external power source, and from his computer, and he slowly trotted over to the Crescent.\n\nKa-BOOM!\n\n\"HOLY SHI-\" Joh was cut off by another massive explosion, this time right on top of him.\n\nThis bunker wasn't gonna hold up for much longer. He needed to hurry.\n\nJoh limped over to the crescent as fast as he could with his remaining foot and 4 toes, and started gathering the cords he had unplugged from the massive contraption.\n\nKer-PLOW!\n\n\"Oh, GODDAMMIT\"\n\nThat wasn't any ordinary explosion, that was the sound of a Verin bomb, an explosive that literally teared holes through reality, exposing the limbo between worlds.\n\nThey shouldn't have them, Joh thought, ...This is my fault. Goddammit.\n\nJoh started plugging the cords he had gathered into the specific ports on the Velite casing, carefully, yet speedily. First a braided cable, with some flashing lights. Next, a weird, almost six inch thick cable made of a metal alloy, and so on. \n\nAnother explosion, this time a normal one.\n\nMore cables, more plugs, more lights, and more beeping.\n\n\"WARNINGWARNINGWARNING THIS IS A WARNING AN OVERLOAD ON-SYST-IS-EVACUAT-RIFT-RUN-\" the loudspeaker in his bunker cut out, due to a combination of the Velite flooding the system and the world around him slowly fading. You see, Verin bombs are a lot like nuclear bombs, as in they give off a sort of radiation. Of course, this radiation literally erases what it comes in contact with.\n\nJoh looked to his right, and saw an empty space, 3 feet above the ground. A rift in the world. FUCK. It wasn't very big, but that meant the Verin had made it into the bunker. \n\nNo more explosions. Joh knew exactly who had won, and it wasn't good.\n\n\"In the name of God...amen...in the name of Allah, the Gracious, the Merciful...We are the hands of the Goddess, And to Her we...\"\n\nJoh wiped the sweat off his brow once more, and gently set the Velite enclosure in a jury rigged port he had installed, and then stood back.\n\nThis was it. If this didn't work, it was, quite literally, the end of humanity.\n\nJoh limped over to his computer.\n\nAnd he tripped over a screwdriver, smashing his face into the concrete. \n\nHe rolled over, and, through his now hazy vision in his remaining eye, stared at the rift.\n\nThere were two now, and the first was almost floor to ceiling.\n\n\"in the name of...ame...hel...p\"\n\nJohansen Ulark, the man once heralded as the smartest man in the 'verse, as someone who could truly change the world for the better. Heralded as the man who discovered a dimensional rift, and got the great idea to explore it.\n\nPoor, poor Johansen, who showed his work and research on the dimensional rift to his life long friend, Xelina Smith, the woman who had discovered mysterious alien technology orbiting a distant star. Xelina Smith, she who had been Johansen's only friend for a large period of life. Xelina Smith, who saved Joh from suicide multiple times, who saved his life, who was there for him, always.\n\nPoor Johansen, who didn't expect her going into the rift. Who didn't expect Xel coming back as a completely different person, and opening all the black holes in our galaxy, turning them into rifts.\n\nXel, who used a powerful dimensional object to pull forth unspeakable horrors.\n\nPoor, poor Joh, who could find no way to reverse what he, and she, had done.\n\nPoor, poor Joh reached back, gripped the screwdriver, and started crawling forwards.\n\nHe was bleeding, and he was losing vision in his only remaining eye. He could hear nothing, and it was obvious he had somehow burst his only eardrum. Joh, the asymmetrical man he was, crawled towards a power cord laying on the floor.\n\nHe had to activate the Crescent, but he was far to weakened to get up.\n\nThere was only one thing to do.\n\nJoh slammed the metal screwdriver into the cord, only slightly slicing it.\n\nHe slammed it again.\n\nAgain.\n\nAgain.\n\nAgain.\n\nHe brought his hand up, so tired and dead that he could barely pull it 3 feet off the ground, positioned his hand, and then let gravity finish the job.\n\nThe screwdriver slammed into the power cord.\n\nThis power cord had a specific weakness. It used a very specific type of energy, that was very similar to Li-Fi.\n\nThe screwdriver was just big enough to block the power flow, and the energy instead flowed straight into him, using him as a conduit.\n\nHumans were especially good conduits for this type of energy.\n\nThe power flowed through his body, looking for any possible exits. Oh, and it certainly found on.\n\nThe power flowed down into his leg, the stump of a leg that was only slightly touching another, barely exposed power cord. A power cord that connected straight into the Crescent.\n\nJoh coughed up blood, and almost all of his remaining life flowed out of him, into the ether.\n\nThere were five rifts now, each one massive, consuming the entire room, Aside from a few places, Joh's Body, The Crescent, and the power cells for each cord. The rifts almost seemed to shy away from those few things, as if it dared not touch them.\n\nJoh used the last bit of his power to croak out a few words.\n\n\"Fo...Xel...please b....happil...ever...afte-\"\n\nHis half completed sentence was cut off, as his body functions stopped for the last time\n\nIn his strange, altered state of mind, before his death, Joh believed that he had never found that rift, and that he and Xel settled down together. They had a happily ever after.\n\nThe power flowed into the Velite, and it flowed outwards from that, destroying the enclosure and sending its pieces flying into the rifts surrounded it.\n\nPower sparked in all directions from the Velite, violet colored power. The rays of energy shot into the Crescent, and the Velites vibrant color faded, while the Crescent started its work.\n\nIn a perfect circle inside the Crescent, a portal was formed, as if it was completing a circle the Crescent once was.\n\nThis portal looked like a massive white surface, with impressions and ridges all over it, making it look an awful lot like a spider web. \n\nSuddenly, the surface seemed to...fall backwards, into, well, nothing. The center of the portal shot backwards and down, creating a tunnel into another world.\n\nThe now dull Velite fell backwards into the portal, breaking up into many pieces and fading away as it flew downwards into the void.\n\nThe Velite already had it's mission, it already had it's command. Joh sacrificed a lot of himself to imprint the commands.\n\nSuddenly, the air grew still. The sound of power whizzing through cords stopped, and the strange, sloshy noise of the portal stopped.\n\nThe world simply...faded. Everything grew dark and grey, like an ever-enveloping fog was taking the world hostage.\n\nThe \"fog\" grew thicker and thicker, until nothing could be seen.\n\nAt this point, there were no humans or creatures from other worlds left.\n\nThere was not a single living thing in that entire universe.\n\nAll the realities started to fade too, not just the one Joh had doomed.\n\nEverything faded.\n\nEverything burned away.\n\nWill be continued in response to this comment\n\n", "\"I just want to...get away, you know? I'm tired of the normal. I wanna live, you know? I wish I could drive...Jesus, I wish I could drive. I'm so damn restricted and I never, ever do anything. I miss my childhood, when I didn't have a care in the world. The only thing I was ever sad about was dropping my juice box, or something...-sigh-\"\n \nA 15 year old girl by the name of Daisy Bradley, who had shoulder length hair, deep blue eyes that seemingly reflected the ocean everywhere she went, and a pale complexion, hit the send button on her text.\n\nA 15 year old boy by the name of Slayder Delm, who had long, clean blonde hair that extended halfway down his back, and an unconventional that he loved for that very reason, started typing a response.\n\n\"God, I seriously feel you. I can't stand being cooped up, especially after that shitty move. But I don't have any friends to do anything with, aside from you and Ben, but we live like an hour away from each other.\"\n\nSlayder hit the send button.\n\n\"FUCK! It sucks, right?!\"\n\nDaisy hit send.\n\n\"Hell yeah it does. God, I'm glad I have you to vent to, my parents don't give a shit.\"\n\nSlayder sent the text.\n\n\"Well, I'm off to bed (and off to go cry about my life, lolololol). See ya later, Slayder.\"\n\n\"Lol, I've never heard that one before.\"\n\n\"That was...sarcasm, right? It's hard to tell in text.\n\n\"Yeah, it was totally sarcasm.\"\n\n\"Wait, is that sarcasm?\"\n\n\"I dunno.\"\n\n\"Is tha-You know, nevermind. Goodnight.\"\n\n5 minutes pass.\n\n\"I take you aren't asleep yet?\"\n\nSlayder sent the text.\n\n\"Nah, dude, it's been five whole minutes.\"\n\n\"Yeah...it's just that...you know.\"\n\n\"What's up?\"\n\n\"Can we stay this way forever? Not sad and lonely...but, like this. Good friends despite distance. Talking 24/7 and giving each other device and...having fun, I guess?\"\n\n\"I hope, Slayder. I hope.\"\n\n\nOne and a half months later, Daisy confessed her crush for Slayder to him.\n\nAfter one year, they both agreed to leave their relationship. They wanted to be friends again, not lovers.\n\nSoon after, Daisy got her drivers license. Because they lived in Utah, they, along with Ben, went to a bunch of national parks over summer break.\n\nAfter summer break, Daisy and Slayder didn't talk nearly as much. They were too busy, and the distance was straining them even more.\n\nSlayder and Ben had a huge blowout, and stopped talking.\n\n---\n\n\nSlayder is 24 years old. He hasn't talked to Daisy in years. Not since he moved to Oregon.\n\nHe had a dream, a dream where he and Daisy laid and watched the stars.\n\n\"I love you,\" Dream Daisy said\n\n\"I love you too,\" Said dream Slayder.\n\n\"I want to stay this way forever, you know?\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\nSlayder woke up, and immediately picked up his phone. First, he sent a text to Ben.\n\n\"Hey, dude, this is Slayder. We haven't talked in forever...and, god, I miss being friends. I...think I'm gonna come down to Utah soon. Wanna do something?\"\n\n3 hours pass.\n\n\"Uh, Slayder, I live in goddamn Alaska now, dude. I've probably sent you a million text's in the last couple years, and called you just as many times. You never fucking respond, and yet, suddenly, years later, you want to 'reconcile?' Fuck off, asshat\"\n\nSlayder went to bed early that night.\n\n---\n\n\"Let's have a happily ever after together, Slayder.\"\n\n\"Please, god. That would be amazing.\"\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\n---\n\nSlayder awoke, and texted Daisy's old number.\n\n\"Hey, Daisy...we haven't talked in forever, and I feel so shitty. I miss you. I miss being friends. I'm coming to Utah soon, wanna do something? I know it's been a while...but...just, you know. Call me or something and we can make plans.\"\n\n3 days pass, and Slayder receives a message.\n\n\"Who is this?\"\n\n\"It's Slayder. Probably should have said that in my last message.\"\n\n\"Oh, God, Slayder?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you haven't forgotten me already, have you?\"\n\nSlayder's phone started ringing. It was Daisy's number. He practically lunged for the answer button.\n\n\"Heeeeeey, whaddup Daisy!?\"\n\nA sad, quiet voice responded. A voice that was definitely not Daisy's\n\n\"I...I'm sorry. This is Daisy's mother. I never expected her phone to ring. I keep it plugged in though. I don't know why?\"\n\n\"Huh? Whus going on?\"\n\n\"You-You don't know?\"\n\n\"Know wha-oh no...please don't tell me.\"\n\n\"Slayder, Daisy passed away about...\" Daisy's mother started crying, sniffling as if she had a bad cold and doing her hardest to keep from weeping, \"maybe...a year and a half ago? We...\" She sniffled again \"We...Invited you to the funeral...I guess...\" She couldn't hold it back any more, and she started sobbing. Quietly, but it was the sob of someone who had lost a part of their soul, \"I guess you...never got the invitation...\" She tried to compose herself, then quickly, as if she didn't want to say it out loud, she said, \"It was...she did it herself, Slayder...I don't know why.\"\n\nSlayder quickly said sorry, goodbye, and then put the phone on his nightstand.\n\nHe laid back on his dirty pillow, which needed so desperately to be washed, and started crying.\n\nThis isn't happily ever after, Daisy. Why would you do this? Was it me? Was it because I disappeared from your life? Did I cause this?, Slayder thought.\n\nSlayder quickly fell asleep in a puddle of dried tears.\n\n---\n\n\"I miss you, Slayder.\"\n\n\"I miss you, too, Daisy.\"\n\n\"Come see me sometime, huh?\"\n\n\"You bet.\"\n\n---\n\nEnd\n\n\n\n\n**\nSidenote: Yes, I already wrote a response to this prompt, but I had two very, very different ideas and I decided to do both. You can see my other response at this link https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/41wlj6/wp_this_isnt_happily_ever_after/cz694qh", "This isn’t happily ever after. Everyday, across the world life after life is snuffed out of existence. Someone who once loved, walked, talked, and dreamed will suddenly, often without warning or fanfare no longer exist. It is the gradual, grueling march by all living creatures. The lowest of the low and the mover and shakers of the world all heading towards the inevitable end.\n\nOne might argue that it is what we leave behind that makes us live forever, and it a beautiful thought, is it not? To think that somehow we will be remembered by our good deeds, and perhaps more often the bad. That we will achieve eternity through the legacy we leave behind. However most of us will be lucky to be remembered by 10 people regularly a year after our deaths. Most of us are but the side characters in another, more important person’s life story. While thinking ourselves the hero we are nothing more than a passing thought in the history of the world.\n\nPerhaps the saddest part of this story is that no matter the legacy left behind you will still never exist again. A starving child and a world famous actor despite all that they might have done in life will never have another experience once death has come for them. While Abraham Lincoln may have performed actions that will reverberate throughout history he will never again love his wife, speak new and insightful words, or even enjoy a tasty meal. Perhaps even more terrifying is that all of the dead, and the thoughts that made them matter, will become irrelevant. So that one day even our legacies will be regarded as outdated, unimportant.\n\nThis is not happily ever after. This is life, and it is a hard and inevitable struggle towards non-existence set upon by all those unfortunate enough to have been conceived on this planet…*\n\nMy writing was interrupted as my fiance’s keys jingled in the dead bolt lock to our apartment. I set my computer aside delicately closing the lid, assuring that our cat Plop would not find it easy to make her own edits to my writing.\n\n“How was your day?”\n\n“Good, long, but good, how was yours?”\n\nI told him about a few strange customers I had that day and he told me about his as he began to stir the rotini into the boiling water. It was our standard ritual of sharing our days with each other while one of us prepared dinner for the night. I watched him closely as he danced back and forth while he worked, loudly, and not so elegantly, singing David Bowie’s “Life on Mars.”\n\n“Come here,” I called him over as I wrapped my arms around his warm waist Bowie serenading us from the Bluetooth speaker, “I love you Dan.”\n\n“I love you too.” He held me for longer than was normal. I rested my head on his chest and felt his heart beating against my cheek. Home, I was home.\n\nThis isn’t happily ever after. But I was happy, and for now at least, we were both alive together", "This isn’t happily ever after. This isn’t the world of wonder you dreamed long ago, nor is it the world you choose to believe. You’ve isolated yourselves into a bubble; sight lost outside your own interests. People die every day, their experiences ended, their bubble burst.\n\nThey tell themselves they’ll go to heaven and see their loved ones. It’s a fantasy to mask a grim truth about our reality. You die. Not only will you die, the world will continue on without you. You had dreams of becoming famous, becoming rich or successful. Where did your dreams go? Where did your ambition go?\n\nYou can’t be that naive. You have to see the world for what it really is. It’s a meat grinder designed to shape you into a nice little box to conform to the expectations of a boxed shape people. Your dreams are dead because you are dead inside. You died a long time ago when you gave up your imagination. You’ve lost the ability you had deep down inside you to be great.\n\nThis isn’t happily ever after, it never was because there isn’t such a thing. Drink another shot, pop another pill, and keep looking for that happily ever after. Maybe you’ll find it in your bottled vices. What is more likely to happen is you’ll find what bursts your bubble. Maybe when you join the choir of screaming souls, helpless to their destiny, you will understand.", "“You know, this isn’t happily ever after.” The princess Rebecca told her latest savior. \r\n\r\n“What do you mean?” The hero Kelvin, freshly out of his tribulations, asked without lifting his head from the dragon’s carcass. He was painstakingly carving the hide out of it to make armor. “What happened here will spread and the lands will write songs of us now, and pass our tale on to inspire future generations.”\r\n\r\nHe had slaved and trained all his life for it. For a moment, he looked up at the princess, who somehow managed to maintain a stunning appearance despite months in captivity in the tower. Her chin was propped up by her hand, elbow resting on her knee that was hidden under her turquoise ball gown. She was looking away and seemingly into the distance. She was his prize, as well. \r\n\r\nShe eyed the dead dragon out of the corner of her eye. “I kind of liked Drake, actually. I was taming him.”\r\n\r\n“Would you like to keep a claw or something then?” Caught up in his task, it was all that Kelvin had the presence of mind to offer.\r\n\r\n“No thanks, just get it over with.” \r\n\r\nWhen they finally got out of the tower a few hours later, Kelvin had gained a fresh hide, several fangs and claws, and two eyes of the dragon. He also regained the princess for the kingdom. As they galloped away from the tower in the outskirts of the country, Princess Rebecca was sulking. The hide was pungent from the fresh demise; it was all she could smell. \r\n\r\nThe world largely agreed with Kelvin. Knighthood and many cheers were given. Everyone loved the idea of Rebecca as a damsel in distress who would happily give herself to any man who killed her pet. Most importantly, her father felt it was only appropriate.\r\n\r\nWhen she flatly refused the suggestion for her marriage to the valiant hero by one of the nobles, there was a collective gasp. The hero looked devastated, and that gave her a good laugh.\r\n\r\nThree months passed. Rebecca gasped awake on a bed of needles, breaking a tender kiss. Looking down at her was her second-time hero Sir Kelvin. She had been poisoned by a witch, he told her. He tricked the witch to drown herself in her own cauldron and saved Rebecca with a true love’s kiss.\r\n\r\n“Well, she must have been not too bright then,” Rebecca remarked. “More importantly, shouldn’t you get me off this bed of needles before anything else, you lecherous man?”\r\n\r\nThis isn’t happily ever after, Rebecca told herself as she went through the motions in the wedding ceremony. The kingdom partied and danced for three days and nights for the joyous occasion. Her husband, Sir Kelvin, beamed at her and told her how beautiful she was. \r\n\r\n“I know,” she waved him off. She was used to these compliments from foreign suitors from mysterious lands and heroes of all shapes and sizes. \r\n\r\nTheir daughter, Brittany, was born two years later. For the first time, she let herself basked in the connection she now had with her husband and daughter. They made a small and joyous family.\r\n\r\nThe kingdom, starved for parties, threw another huge one for Brittany’s birth. \r\n\r\nRebecca was truly happy on that day, as she regarded her husband’s attire and smoothed out its creases. She was flattered that her husband still told her she was beautiful after these years and childbirth. She was content as she nursed Brittany. She glowed with pride as others complimented her beautiful Brittany.\r\n\r\nThat was when she felt a shudder down her spine, like an icy cold hand was caressing it. There was a whisper in her ear, “You think this is happily ever after?” It was a sinister and ghastly voice.\r\n\r\nBefore she could respond, her body froze. Try as she might, she could not move an inch. She wanted to scream for help, but even her throat was locked. \r\n\r\n“Here,” came the whisper, “let me help you with that.”\r\n\r\nHer body let out a sharp shriek that echoed throughout the ballroom. On stage, the musicians stopped their song abruptly. Conversations stalled and everyone froze to stare at her.\r\n\r\nHelp me, she tried to say. But what came out was shrill laughter. Her hand flexed into a claw and stretched out for Brittany.\r\n\r\nSomebody stop me, she thought desperately. She saw through her eyes the figure of Kelvin, hurrying towards her full of resolve.\r\n\r\n“Do you think he can bear to hurt you?” The voice, inaudible to anyone else but her, let out a cackle.\r\n\r\nRebecca wanted to sob, but her tear ducts were not hers to command.\r\n\r\nKelvin got to Rebecca, and slapped her across the cheek with no hint of hesitation. The guests all around them gasped. At the far end of the ballroom, the king and queen rose in shock. \r\n\r\nAnd again he struck her. She recoiled from the strength of his that he had never used against her. And again, across the opposite cheek.\r\n\r\n“Bear with this, Rebecca. I’ll get the ghost out of you.” He struck.\r\n\r\nA few men had taken it upon themselves to restraint Sir Kelvin. But he shrugged them off with ease. Again, he struck. \r\n\r\n“You are strong, Rebecca. You were taming the dragon when I found you. And the witch, she was already half-delusional after a fistfight with you – that’s how I managed to trick her to jump into the cauldron.”\r\n\r\nAnother slap. “Our daughter needs us both to care for her. We are going to get through this.”\r\n\r\nHe slapped and he slapped and she hardly even felt pain anymore. The ghost was awkward with her body and put up a feeble struggle against the ferocious hero. \r\n\r\n“And you, ghost, you probably forgot all about pain in your centuries of afterlife. Now remember this pain because it is what you will get and a hundred times more if you ever try to harm my family again.”\r\n\r\nHer shivers faded away. Rebecca collapsed to the floor, panting and holding her puffy cheeks. Blood was coursing furiously under the skin of her face. As her husband held her, the guests watched in shocked silence.\r\n\r\n“This is the first time you’ve acted out of character as a hero,” she struggled to tell him with her swollen mouth. “Thank you for protecting Brittany and me, Kelvin. I’ll admit it now. This really is our happily ever after.”\r\n\r\nThe crowd was utterly unsure about the appropriate response, but the man and wife held each other, surer and happier than ever. And they lived…\r\n", "His eyes traced every perfect curve of her body. He had loved her from the first day they met many years ago in their adolescence. She was his anchor; his reason for waking up every morning and more importantly, she was his best friend. Everything they ever did together lead up to this moment and in a few minutes, they would start the rest of their lives. \n\nHe swallowed the lump of air in his throat and adjusted his tie. He locked eyes with the pastor between them and once more at his bride. Her smile was infectious, just one of the other many things he adored about his love. Involuntarily, he smiled back at her. \n\n\"Do you John, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?\" The pastor asked with a calm, welcoming voice. \n\n\"I do.\" He whispered under his breath, staring longingly into her eyes.\n\n\"And do you, Emily, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?\" The pastor asked once more, directing his gaze over to the young woman in white. \n\n\"I do.\" She whispered with a smile. She leaned forward and softly pressed her ruby lips against his. He placed hands gently against her cheeks and pulled her even closer to him. \n\nEveryone in attendance rose to their feet in thunderous applause. The church bells chimed, making their perfect love absolutely official and bound by God himself. \n\nShe looked deeply into his eyes as he did to hers. \n\n\"I love you.\" He whispered once more. \n\nThe newly weds made their way from the podium and down the isle. Everyone cheered in happiness as they made their way through the chapel doors.\n\nEveryone except for John, who had just witnessed the woman he loved, marry another man.", "I know this isn't happily ever after.\n\nThe kitchen, cramped, is home for too much dust;\n\nThe broken heater hums beneath our laughter;\n\nThe shutters rattle with every bitter gust.\n\nYour smile melts long hours of work away;\n\nI rub your shoulders as you pay the bills.\n\nThe commute is hell, but every Saturday,\n\nCartoons and cuddling's how I get my thrills.\n\nHome-cooked meals are cheaper, more our style;\n\n\"We're saving up,\" you say, your grin a ghost.\n\nDancing barefoot on the icy tile;\n\nThis isn't happily-ever-after, but it's close.", "This isn't happily every after. It never was. Be honest with me now, was there ever a chance?\n\nTell me why..... Why are you leaving me?\n\nYou've let me scream. Oh, how I screamed. Then I cried. I cried hard, and even though you were leaving me you held me as close as you could with your failing limbs. I don't even remember if you cried. Surely I should remember that. I should remember everything about that day.....\n\nI brought you flowers, like I had done every day that week. You smiled, thanking me. You got my name wrong, but I was getting used to that now. I was just happy you remembered me at all. You held my hand and let me talk. I talked about everything - my children, my husband, the amount of washing I had to do when I got home. \n\nAnything to not talk about the elephant in the room. \n\nYou always told me about happily ever afters as a child. Why aren't they true? Why couldn't I be the one with a happily ever after? I still needed you, I needed you to teach me how to deal with my daughters teenage attitude, how to teach my son to aim for the toilet. \n\nI still needed you mum. \n\nBut this isn't happily every after..... and I'll just have to survive without you.", "I remember her first making the comment as we lay together, exhausted, in the afterglow of our third date. I'd propped myself up on one elbow, turning to look over at where she lay on the dew-dampened grass.\n\n\"You know,\" I commented, \"I think that this was the best date I've ever had.\"\n\nShe turned her head a little, smiling back at me. Even in the dim moonlight, I caught the little hint of violet in her sparkling eyes. \"I knew it would be,\" she murmured back to me.\n\nHer fingers reached out, lazily, their tips dragging across my bare chest. \"Might as well just write the 'happy ever after' ending now, huh?\" I said, keeping my tone light. Just a joke, I told myself. Don't admit how hard you've already fallen for this girl.\n\n\"Happily ever after?\" she repeated back, her eyebrows furrowing together slightly. \"No, this isn't happily ever after.\"\n\nI didn't think much of the comment. Most of what she said felt mysterious - it was one of the things I liked about her, that drew me to her. She was the flame to my moth's wings.\n\nThe conversation slipped out of my head, lost in the slipstream of romance as I fell head over heels for this girl. The words didn't emerge again until we toasted champagne glasses to our first anniversary. We'd gathered at a restaurant with several of our close friends, all of them cheering for us.\n\n\"You two really give the rest of us hope for finding our own happily ever after,\" one of my friends commented, holding up his (mostly empty) glass of champagne.\n\nI smiled and thanked him, but I felt her frown beside me. By this point, I didn't even have to look over at her to sense her expression. \"It's not happily ever after,\" she murmured, so quietly that only I heard her speak.\n\nI tried to make a note to ask her about it later, but it slipped my mind later that evening, and I forgot about her words.\n\nTwo years later, I sank down onto one knee, grinning like an idiot as I pulled out a small box from inside my jacket pocket. \"Will you marry me?\" I asked, barely even able to pronounce the words.\n\nShe, of course, was grinning back at me, clapping her hands together. We'd talked about it plenty of times, of course, but I always pretended that it was far off in the future. I'd bought the ring in secret, planned this whole occasion.\n\n\"Of course!\" she exclaimed, and I swept her up into a passionate kiss for several seconds before I remembered to put the ring on her finger.\n\nAn hour later, after she'd finally gotten off the phone with her mother (who yammered on like no one else I knew), I tugged her off to bed, kissing her to distract her from how my fingers tugged at her clothes. Given how eagerly she stripped me bare, I don't think my distraction worked.\n\n\"If every time is like that, we'll certainly live happily ever after,\" I commented a half hour later, still breathing a little heavily.\n\n\"This isn't happily ever after,\" she panted back, even as she curled up against me, her soft, small breasts pressed against my side.\n\nFor some reason, those words seemed familiar. I straightened up a little, looking down at her. \"You've said that before,\" I remarked, frowning.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" \n\nShe turned, squirming around to look up at me. \"It's nothing,\" she insisted, gazing up at me as she rested her chin on my chest. For a moment, I thought I saw pain in those eyes, mixed in amid the hint of violet.\n\nI left it alone.\n\nBut every now and then, as the years passed, I'd cautiously revisit it. I mentioned it as we headed off towards our honeymoon, as she cradled our first child, lying exhausted but happy in the hospital bed, when we saw him playing with his toys on his second Christmas morning.\n\nAnd every time, she would reply the same. \"This isn't happily after.\"\n\nIt's only now, I think, as I gaze out at you all, that I think I know what she meant.\n\nIn the end, there is no happily ever after. Our presence here today, all of us dressed in black, shows that. In the end, nothing lasts forever. \n\nBut I don't see this as bad. Instead, we should learn from this to savor every happy moment, knowing that it's fleeting, that it won't last. Nothing lasts forever. If it did, we couldn't truly appreciate it - not like how we love these shooting stars that streak only briefly through our lives before fading.\n\nSo when you all go home tonight, I urge you, take a minute to acknowledge that you don't have happily ever after. You have happily right now, and that's far more valuable. \n\nCling to it.\n\nTo Emily, my loving wife, devoted mother, a true friend. Let's all bow our heads for a moment and remember those happy moments with her. She may have been taken from us, but no one can take those memories away.\n\nThank you." ]	13
	[WP] Five surfers end up at an ISIS recruitment meeting because they heard the dudes are "radical."	[ "OK, hack writer. Whatcha got for me?\n\nWell, Mr. Movie Executive, Sir.\n\nPlease. No need to be so formal. Call me Sir.\n\nWell, Sir. I was thinking about making a movie about what's going on in Flint. The water.\n\nPass. Too dark.\n\nThe water?\n\nNo! The movie. And the water, I guess. No one wants to go and watch people drink poison unless its binge drinking teenagers. Plus Flint makes people think of Michael Moore. I don't care for him one way or the other, but he don't sell tickets. What else?\n\nHow about a movie where people fight against the justice system? Making A Murderer is huge now, and--\n\nNope. By the time we turn it around, that won't be a thing anymore. By then the big documentary on Netflix will be about, I don't know... bolo ties. No one saw this Avery guy coming.\n\n(crickets chirp)\n\nSo we both avoided a bad joke. For this I went to USC?\n\nSo did I. That's how you got this meeting. But you're not gonna have it for much longer unless you give me something with some pow, some zing. Some action!\n\nFive surfers end up at an ISIS recruitment meeting because they heard the dudes are 'radical.'\n\nLike \"Point Break\" meets \"Zero Dark Thirty\"! Brilliant!\n\nThat was fast!\n\nYeah, well, I'm bored with writing this and dinner's ready. Maybe I'll put as much effort into the next one as you put into your pitch.\n\nGod, I hope not! \n\n", "Did we bring the guns? Course' we brought the guns, here, check them out! The group of men, who Akmal had begun to suspect where were somewhere south of mentally impaired, began flexing and thrusting there bodies, their meager muscles glistening with sweat and tanning oil. He knew they needed members, but this was ridiculous....\n\nHe'd had doubts when they has first swaggered up. The biggest one was whether this followed Islam, as when asked about the Quran, they replied they don't eat vegetables. They said they had read the ads, and were \"psyched\" to be involved. When he brought up suicide vests, they said they were already the \"bomb\", and then asked how large the waves were in the sea of western blood, which they seemed to think was a beach.\n\nWell, he thought, at least when they do die the media will go crazy. Nothing sells news like young Americans dying.\n" ]	2
	[WP]You're a world-renowned surgeon who can heal almost anyone.What people don't know is you made this possible by making a deal with the Devil,and for every patient that you heal,a year is taken off your life.	[ "“Doctor, I don’t understand why you need this information. It’s not relevant to the patient’s condition.” \n\n“Maria, please. Just give me his file.”\n\nMaria passes a thick, manila envelop across the table. Across the hall, the patient is in the ER prepping for surgery. Hesitantly, I open the folder. \n\nMy P.I. is a pro. He can find dirt on anyone, anywhere. Criminal records, domestic abuse reports, background checks, drug tests, you name it. If you have something to hide in your past, he will find it. \n\nHow unfortunate for this patient. \n\nIn ’92 he was accused of sexual abuse, though no formal charges were ever filed. Lack of evidence was cited. \n\nIn ’99 he was arrested for a DUI. \n\nIn ’03 he was again arrested, this time for spousal abuse. His wife filed for divorce weeks later and was given full custody of their child. \n\nHis bank account statements indicate he has nothing in savings, and his income is paltry considering the cost of living in this area. Yet, he lives in a large home in a well-respected, wealthy area of town. Something doesn’t add up. \n\nApparently the IRS thought the same, and audited him twice in the past five years. However he's made money, he's done a good job covering it up. \n\n“Doctor, we really need to begin surgery. He’s not going to make it much longer and you have that boy set for surgery at four. If we don’t start now…”\n\n“I understand Maria, let’s begin.”\n\nEvery time I walk into the operating theater, I feel guilt. Guilt for my own selfishness, guilt for not being able to help more people, guilt for the weakness I succumbed to all those years ago. Eventually those feelings pass, and I feel better about myself. No one else in the world can possibly help this man. His condition is far beyond what modern medicine can treat. I became a Doctor because I always wanted to hold someone's life in my hands and save them, regardless how they've lived. Sadly, those decisions are no longer up to me. \n\nI cut him open and pretend to work. He will die today….but at least the boy will live. \n", "The women had broken the kitchen window I could see now reflected in the knife she held at my face.\n\n\"You fix my boy!\" She demanded trembling, half desperate half crazed. Basically the poster child for the war against meth there wasn't much to her. \n\nThe boy slouched in the door frame a growing pool of blood around his feet. Ruining my grout. His eyes are wild and angry. The only strength left in him is used to cover the gaping wound in his side. \n\n\"What?! This little shit? Why the fuck would I save him?\" I felt the blade cut into my cheek. The pain was instant and awakening. \n\"Okay, okay, okay, easy. \" she backed the knife off but not as far as before. \n\n\" you're a doctor by law you're required to help someone who's dying.\" She said smugly. \n\n\"It doesn't look bad I'm sure he'll make a full recovery.\" As the words left my mouth I saw his eyes roll back and arm go limp. \n\"Damn kid...\" I muttered before we heard his head crack against my tavertine tile. My very expensive tavertine tile. If you wanted get down to the details it cost me my soul. \nThe ladies head whips around at the sound, the blade slips and nearly cuts me again. \n\n\"My baby!\" She screeches. And when she turns back to me her demand is clear.\n\n\"If he dies so will you.\" She says completely steady and I know she means it.\n\n\"I'll fix yer boy\" I reply with more balls than I really have. \n\nI don't really need much to fix someone. The deal was anyone I work on lives. I fixed an aortic tear with an m&m bag. I was boasting, even wrote an article for medical daily on the benefits of impromptu surgical equipment. But now I figure I better look serious for this lady. I grab a few things off the counter and some dishrags from under the sink. All the while she follows me around the kitchen. \n\nWhen I get to the kid with a reasonable pile of \"surgical equipment\" he is barely breathing. I'm no necromancer and if this kid goes it won't matter how many candy bar wrappers I stuff in him, he won't come back. \n\nI remove the shirt and immediately see the skin is blown away, I see yellow adipose and some exposed intestine. It was definitely a gun shot at close range. It was even worse for the exit wound. \n\nThis is going to ruin my new Egyptian cotton pjs. I thought. \n\n\"Hey you! Don't let him die!\" The lady reminds me of the knife now at my back. \n\nI get to work stuffing and tying things off. Really I can do what I want here. The devil is in the details. \n\nI start to see the wound start to close. He starts to groan and the lady leans in. \n\"Is he gonna make it?\" \n\n\" unfortunately... That's the way it works.\" I'm not hiding my disappointment. \n\n\"Fuck you guy.\" The boy spits out. The lady drops the knife and kneels at his side. \"Oh my baby, thank gawd.\" She's still shrieking.\n\n\" don't thank god lady, he didn't have shit to do with it.\" I reply.\n\nRemembering my presence she picks up the knife again and helps her delinquent offspring off the floor. She points it at me. Back to her batshit crazy self and back out the doorway keeping her son behind her. \n\"Don't you say a word about us.\" She says swinging the knife before disappearing into the night. With my knife. My fucking cutco knife. I go to the counter and touch the slot on the wooden knife block where the blade should be. \"One less\"\n\n", "I had a reputation as being the world's hardest to see surgeon. Many tried to refer to me, but I refused all but the most hopeless. I received death threats from the families of cancer patients, boys with bad bullet wounds, greedy rich people with terminal illnesses, you name it. I only work on a few kinds of cases.\n\nMy last case was a woman with an unknown condition. Her body was undergoing degeneration never observed before. Thanks to my power, I knew what was causing it and how to solve it. She is the 40th patient I've served in my career. \n\nI have another referral. A rare genetic disorder that is gradually turning a young boy into a human vegetable. He is barely conscious, and no doctor knows how to help him. If I accept him, it's the last thing I'll do before I die. I am ok with denying most patients because modern medicine is so advanced. Many illnesses, even cancer, can be well treated by other doctors.\n\nI accept him. I could tell this child has the potential to be a world leader. Intelligent, caring, empathic to the point of correctly judging how others felt. 11 years old and could finish high school next year if he were healthy. How could I deny him?\n\nThe operation is completed. Who else could have come up with gene-resequencing therapy as the answer? My life is slipping away. Before I discharge the boy, I told him. I was only allowed to tell one person of my power, and he is the one. I gave him the blueprints, and that he could save the world. I signed his release, and my death warrant.", "I stopped checking my email two weeks ago. It was filled with only two things: desperate pleas, and unearned praise. I am 35 years old, and already considered the best surgeon in the world. At an age where many medical professionals are only beginning to establish their client base, I am already the toast of the field. A wunderkind of the highest order. A shining example held up to students - if you work hard, you can do amazing things.\n\nI have performed twenty surgeries that were deemed nearly impossible, and all to save lives. I know I have performed twenty such procedures because I have kept meticulous count.\n\nAfter every successful surgery, the headlines roll in. Backslapping, both literal and figurative, from across the medical world. Countless interview requests. I was even given a front-page spread in the New York Times. They said I performed miracles. But their use of the word 'miracle' was entirely secular. They used it with their nose turned up, with a clear and bold subtext: we, humanity, we are the workers of miracles. Not long-held notions of the divine. We, with our hands and our brains and our science, we defy logic and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.\n\nWhat I do is no miracle.", "The devil stubbed out his cigar and picked up the ringing phone.\n\n\"You have reached fallen angel healthcare, how may I help you?\"\n\n\"If like to cash in one year of life in exchange for healing a terminal illness please.\"\n\nThe devil turned to his computer.\n\n\"Your name please.\"\n\n\"Mike Tucker.\"\n\nAnd your patients name?\"\n\n\"Mike Tucker.\"\n\n\"And the terminal illness in question?\"\n\n\"Premature aging.\"", "My fingers trembled as I held the scalpel above his skin.\n\nI...\n\n\"Doctor?\" my assistant asked, looking up.\n\nI don't...\n\n\"Doctor, what's wrong?\" she repeated.\n\n\"I don't know if I can do this...\" \n\nI felt my voice trail off near the end, as I felt my hand retreat and replace the knife on the table beside me. She gave me a concerned look before looking down at the patient on the table. I could see from her eyes that she had never seen me like this.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nHer response caught me off-guard. Isn't she supposed to talk me out of backing out? I thought. This patient will die if he doesn't get that heart.\n\nI looked down at the patient's sleeping face -- a young boy, no older than twelve at most. He came into this operating room trusting that I would do what I promised, and to save his life; what kind of person would renege on that promise? \n\nI'll tell you who: a man who has just under a year left and would surely die if he performed this operation.\n\nMy body leaned away as I took a half step back from the table, stopping only to see the assistant prepping to take the boy out of the O.R. and back to his room. W...\n\n\"Wait...\" \n\nThe word left my throat with such little sound that I was surprised when she paused to look at me.\n\nI moved back to the table and picked up the scalpel. \"I ca--I can do this,\" I stuttered." ]	6
The American 2016 election cycle begins. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=henyNJ9X5a0	[WP] On an alternate earth, political power is dictated by martial arts prowess.	[ "Its 2224 AD\n45 years have passed since World war 3. The single most destructive event to have occured to Earth since the meteorite hit 65 million ago. The 1% of the total population that survived,the ones who managed to rebuild humanity from scratch,became dissapointed on the way people were chosen as leaders. Now the political and physical power have become one. Only the best of the best are chosen to lead. But everyone knows the history, so lets get it over with.\n\nTo my right,weighing 70kg and at a height of 1.78m, the current grand champion of the world and president of the New United States of America, Chuuuuuck Norris. And to my left, weighing 86kg and at a height of 1.74m, the great successor of the legendary Bruce Lee and leader of the Asian Empire, Jackie Chaan. This battle shall decide the fate of the grand continent of Africa. Will Mr Jackie continue with his dangerous expansional politics or shall Mr Norris put an end to him once and for all?Of course, we are all eager to ring the bell but we'll go on a 10 minute break, stay tuned at BBC news. \"\n\n\nEnglish isnt my mother tongue so let me know of any mistakes" ]	1
	[WP] A Civil War where all the combatants are civil to one another.	[ "On the front lines of a not so distant battlefield, mid 1800s...\n\nReginald sat with his comrades in poorly made trenches, covering themselves with ample clothing to fight the cool air that had fallen upon them. Next to him were Sir Wells, the most gentlemanly of gentlemen, the most gracious and courteous of lads in the land, and not only that, but a true scholar at that, learning true manners and how to keep well groomed, even in the most dastardly of conditions. He was also a man that you would want by your side in times of trouble to help meet your enemies head on. And then there was Barnleby- though he was not a rich lad, he was able to stand with his fellow gentlemen, no matter what had faced them. For what he lacked in the department of cleanliness, he made up for in his shoe polishing abilities, a skill which won him many good men as friends.\n\nBarnleby shivered under his coat, caressing his arms to warm them, though it did little to help.\n\n\"Ah, sir Barnleby, you look a tad bit cold!\" Said Sir Wells, with much concern for his brother in arms. \"Would you like to borrow mine? I have brought my finest coats with me back at camp, tis not far to go!\"\n\n\"Are you sure sir? Even if I may get it dirty in this mud?\" Exclaimed Barnleby, who felt truly honored to even be considered a man to be lent a coat to by none other than THE Sir Wells.\n\n\"Of course lad, take what you need within reason, they are in my tent, inside the large chest! Tell my servant that I sent you and he shall also give you a hot cup of tea, lad! Now go on, I do insist that you get warmed up, for who knows when these- pardon my language, but these ratscallions will strike at us next!\"\n\n\"Good sir, you honor me! I shall be back in two shakes of a lambs tale sir, and thank you- THANK you for the privelage of your aid sir!\"\n\nWith that, Barnleby crawled out of the trench, heading a few paces back to Sir Wells' tent. Reginald and Sir Wells were left in each other's company, anticipating when the enemy forces would dare show their faces.\n\n\"Oh Reginald!\" Piped up Wells. \"I do believe I see those devils coming towards us!\"\n\n\"Aye sir, that they are!\" Spoke Reginald, excited to finally fight the enemy. \"We shall give them a proper thrashing and kick their arses, righ-\"\n\n\"REGINALD!\" Gasped Wells. \"Did you just threaten to kick their... A-WORDS? That is truly barbaric of you, I am sorry to say! Please compose yourself and watch your language, for I may have to report you to our superior officer for vicious threats upon fellow gentlemen!\"\n\nReginald sat confused and stared at Wells as he beamed back at him with horror upon his face. Silence fell upon them for a good few moments until Reginald broke the silence.\n\n\"But sir... you just called them devils\"\n\n\"THAT IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT! That was said out of healthy competition with my fellow man! You- you used...\" Wells paused, checking around the two of them cautiously before whispering \"... a curse word!\"\n\nReginald, perplexed to say the least, dumbfounded and left slack-jawed, couldn't say another word out of sheer confusion.\n\n\"Now Reginald, I will keep my mouth quiet about this verbal attack on a fellow gentleman, as maybe you did not know that that was a cruel thing to say- kicking their.... A-words...- but please, I beg of you as your friend, as your comrade- as your fellow man, please- do not speak such rot again!\"\n\n\"...o-okay\" murmured Reginald, who then looked at the ground in disbelief.\n\nSeveral minutes of silence followed, until it was broken by the returning Barnleby, wearing a spare coat given to him by a man he truly admired.\n\n\"Ah, hello lads, I am back and-\" Barnleby froze, looking straight ahead upon several men crossing trenches, 3 to be exact. He squinted to focus his vision before yelling out. \n\n\"Hello good sirs! Might I ask how you lads are on this fine day?\"\n\n\"Ah, we are doing excellent chum, thank you for asking. Tis quiet on the front currently, well, until we came upon you!\" Bellowed the man in the middle, a gargantuan smile slathered across his broad face. He waved excitedly as he replied, happy to come across such a well mannered fellow. \"How are you, sir? Have you any comrades with you? It looks like we may have to fight you as the rules of war demand, but we shan't fight you on unfair terms where one is unmatched!\"\n\n\"You are a true gentleman sir, and I tip my hat to you!\" Yelled Barnleby, bowing in response. \n\n\"Ah, yes he does have two fine companions with him sir!\" Wells came out from his trench. \"Hello to you gentlemen, lovely to meet you! My name is Sir Wells! This fine man whom I'm sure you have already had the pleasure of meeting is Barnleby!\"\n\n\"Ah, Barnleby and Sir Wells, tis lovely to meet you two!\" Shouted the man.\n\n\"Reginald, come say hello to these fine gentleman, we have the pleasure of their company and we shan't be rude as to not introduce ourselves!\" Said Wells.\n\n\"Oh... um, yeah- yes sir, at once\".\n\nReginald stood up from his position cautiously, fearing the men would suddenly break their demeanor and start firing their rifles.\n\n\"Um, hello!\" Yelled Reginald, while nervously waving.\n\nThe three men all waved back enthusiastically, eager to meet their competition. The man in the middle spoke once again\n\n\"Apologies sir, might we have your name?\"\n\n\"Uh, ah... Im Reginald\"\n\n\"Ah, lovely to meet you sir! I am Mister Baxter, on my right is Sir Taffles, and to my left is George Hoff! Again, lovely to meet you three!\"\n\n\"Tis truly an honor!\" Shouted Hoff.\n\n\"Likewise good sirs!\" Barnleby exclaimed, heading into the trench and into position\"\n\n\"Okay, shall we start this then?\" Shouted Wells\"\n\n\"Aye sir, we shall get into position!\" Replied Baxter. \"Come on lads, we shall have a fight on our hands, and may it be a brilliant one!\"\n\nAs Wells and his boys got ready to engage the enemy, Reginald questioned the order of battle.\n\n\"So... how are we gonna do this? Should we just charge in? Should I flank left while you provide cover? How are we doing this?\"\n\n\"Good heavens, no Reginald!\" Scoffed Wells. \"We take turns of course! One of us stands while one of them has his turn to try and shoot us! A fair chance is given to all, we're no bloody savages!\" Barnleby snickered at Reginalds lack of combat experience.\n\n\"Oi, Reginald, that is prepostourous! Charging in like neanderthals and try to kill them before they kill us!\" He continued chuckling, causing a rage to brew inside Reginald. \"Thats just- that's just silly!\"\n\n\"Aye, tis Barnleby, but give the lad a break, tis his first time on the field! Before we know it, he will be an accomplished soldier like us, true gentlemen of the battlefield!\" Wells paused \"Ah, gentlemen, would you like to go first?\" He Shouted across the field.\n\n\"Ah, how kind of you sir! Yes, it would be terribly dimwitted of us not to take you up on such a generous offer!\" Laughed Baxter, with his men chuckling beside him.\n\n\"Aha, right so!\" Wells retorted. \"Now, who shall you like to have a shot at first?!\"\n\nThere was a slight pause, seconds of cold silence. The air was still, and Reginald nervously awaited their answer.\n\n\"How about that fine lad Barnleby? I'd look wager against him!\" Hoff said.\n\nBarnleby stood up bravely, awaiting the shot from the enemies rifle. \n\nHoff Shouted once again.\n\"Good luck sir!\"\n\nHe readied his rifle, aimed and... FIRE! Seconds later, the smoke cleared and there stood Barnleby, untouched by lead.\n\n\"Good try sir, now tis my go!\" Said Barnleby, proud he lived through his 12th shooting attempt.\n\nHoff stood up, closing his eyes as he reached his height. \n\n\"I am ready!\"\n\nBarnleby aimed steadily at his opponent, letting several seconds pass before he finally squeezed the trigger, firing his rifle, sending a ball of hot lead towards his target.\n\nThe smoke cleared, and when it did, no one stood in Hoffs place.\n\nBaxter broke the silence yet again\n\n\"A fine shot sir! Hoho, it appears you killed him instantly! He will be remembered and you sir should be commended for such a fine shot, bravo!\" Barnleby bowed graciously in response to Baxter, who's sportsmanship was very well intact.\n\nHe paused before shouting, announcing it was his groups' turn.\n\nBaxter bellowed \"Ah, my lad Taffles here would like to have a shot at your chap Reginald, if that is agreeable.\"\n\n\"Ah, splendid choice lads! Alright Reginald, stand tall and make us proud sir!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, but you're fuckin kidding, right?\" Groaned Reginald\n\n\"Egads sir, what has gotten into you lately?\"Exclaimed Sir Wells, absolutely appalled by his comrades choice in words. Barnleby gasped and sat there in horror.\n\n\"Here's what we need to do, just storm over their trench, stab em', shoot em, beat them, and kill the-\"\n\n\"REGINALD I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR SHENANIGANS!\" Screamed Wells, angrily. \"Now I am sorry that I have raised my voice, but it seems that you have forgotten common etiquette and manners. I deeply regret this, but you have forced my hand! I will have to... tell on you... now please, do your duty and stand sir!\"\n\n\"FINE\" Screamed Reginald. He stood angrily, meeting the gaze of two bewildered men in the other trench.\n\n\"DO IT\" He screamed \"FUCKING DO IT!\"\n\nTaffles shook, reluctantly pulling the trigger, closing his eyes as he did so. When his eyes opened there stood Reginald, his face red with anger.\n\n\"A fine shot indeed, but it appears you have missed!\" Barnleby shouted, still shaken by his comrades' uncouth words. \n\n\"Reginald, please calm down la-\" Wells was cut off by an enraged Reginald\n\n\"NO, FUCK THIS, FUCK YOU WELLS, FUCK YOU BARNLEBY, AND FUCK YOU PUSSIES ON THE OTHER SIDE! YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF STUPID BITCHES, AND I'M GOING TO FUCKING GET SHIT DONE!\"\n\nReginald grabbed his rifle, climbed atop the trench and stormed towards his enemies, shouting curses all the while, ignoring pleas from his comrades, and to the screams and protests of his prey. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Really sorry about that!\" John shouted over the din of gunfire. \"Hope that didn't hurt too much!\"\n\n\"Hey, no problem man!\" His victim called back. \"I was about to do the same to you, so who am I to complain, right?\"\n\n\"Thanks for being so understanding. I really appreciate that.\" John called while sliding another magazine into his rifle and hitting the bolt release. \"Hope a medic gets to you quick!\"\n\n\"Yeah, he's on his way! Would you mind holding fire? I'd rather not let him get hit before he can help me.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah! No problem dude! Hang in th-\" His reply was cut short by a loud snap as a bullet shot over his head and embedded itself in the wall behind him.\n\n\"Oh Crap!\" Called a new voice. \"So, SO sorry about that! I didn't mean to interrupt you!\"\n\n\"Hey it's no problem, buddy! This is war after all!\" John called back with a wary grin.\n\n\"That it is. It looks like we're setting up for a bayonet charge over here, by the way. It cool if we come over?\"\n\nJohn shrugged and drew his bayonet, \"Yeah, sure I guess.\" He called out as the blade connected with his C7's bayonet lug with a satisfying click. \"Whenever you guys are ready!\"\n\n\"Thanks man, see you soon!\"\n\nJohn shifted to his left and rested the barrel of his rifle on the edge of the ruined wall of the Parliament Building. Above him the ironically named \"Peace Tower\" began to chime noon. The red maple leaf flag atop the tower fluttered in the smoke clogged air.\n\nA dozen figures in blue jerseys leaped out of cover at the bottom of the hill. In unison, they shouted their fearsome battle cry.\n\n\"GO LEAFS GO!\" They roared.\n\n\"SENS RULE!\" John shouted back, and opened fire.\n\nedit forgot a line I had intended to move.", "Nobody ran, they simply walked. Arthur T. Hevlinsworth, the respected and awed general rode atop his horse, which was trotting rather peacefully. Many tales were told about Arthur, and all held him in truly high esteem. It was said that he had once removed an enemy soldier from the field of battle, bought him lunch, paid a sizable amount towards his children's tuition, taught him how to play the cello, and then promptly lopped off his head. He was so skilled in the art of civil combat that he spent less time on the battlefield than he did in high class smoking lounges reading dramatic novellas to enemy orphans. Any soldier who came across him, was greeted with a polite \"good day\" and a tip of the hat. Truly Mr. Hevlinsworth was the gentlest of gentlemen that fought for the Brits.\n\nOpposite him on the bloodless field of battle was Harold von Kellhamut, a German general of incredibly high class. The ornamental spikes that adorned his shoulders had been filed down to harmless nubs, and his walk was almost lazy. He had spent the last three months learning conversational English so that he may speak to enemy soldiers with ease. It had payed off as last week, in the Battle of the Wonderful Pond That You Really Must See, he had read a delightful poem to a young British Sergeant who almost immediately upon hearing it, surrendered his forces and his life savings. Truly these two Titans of War were destined to face each other since the war began.\n\nUpon reaching the center of the battlefield, everyone stopped, the tension was palpable among the throngs of young soldiers. Arthur and Harold came face to face, and both reached out their hands, as was customary. Arthur was the first to act. He called over a group of his officers, who produced a table, two chairs, and a full chess set. Harold was swift with his recovery, he placed a full packet of biscuits and a fine, aged brandy onto the table. Each man sat down opposite the other and their eyes locked.\n\nHarold spoke. \"Your mustache is impeccably groomed, sir! Tell me, do you cut it yourself?\"\n\nArthur was taken aback, but only briefly, by this incredible compliment. \"Yes sir I do!\" He said pleasantly, \"However brilliant my mustache may be, it was a wise move of you to not cover that strong jaw of yours with whiskers. May I say that it is magnificent?\"\n\nClearly these two men were evenly matched.\n\nThe pleasantries continued for some time, the two armies stood in complete awe. Eventually, and gracefully, Harold transitioned the conversation to the topic of Chess, whereupon they each politely declined the other's offer to go first. After an hour of talking each other up, Arthur submitted, as was polite in Harold's culture. They played each other to a stalemate, neither taking a single piece, until inevitably the biscuits were gone and the brandy drained. \n\nAnd since the day had grown long, they both decided to retire to their respective homes, and planned to meet tomorrow at the local cafe. Months passed like this, neither Harold or Arthur able to out class the other, and truly it was inevitable. Two years after that fateful meeting on the field of Incredibly Civil War, the two married. Their whirlwind romance lasted till the ends of their lives. They adopted 17 impoverished children together, each of which grew to be a dignified member of high class society. They brokered a peace treaty between their warring nations, and the peace lasted long after their lives ended. They donated their considerable fortunes to medical science in the pursuit of a cure for cancer. It was rather ironic really then that Harold fell ill with lung cancer.\n\nNext to his deathbed sat Arthur, tears welling in his eyes as he looked upon his compatriot in life, now shriveled with disease. Harold reached his hands out and clasped Arthur's in them. \"My love,\" he said, his voice barely audible over the silence of the room. \"My time is nearing. I can say, that thanks to you, I have lived without regrets. These moments that approach, they are my last.\"\n\nArthur choked upon the lump in his throat, regained some of his composure, then said, \"Polite till the end I see, a true gentlemen you always were. I only wish our time together could have been longer.\" \n\n\"Fear not Arthur, for you will be with me one day. Now, I wish to leave this world as civilly as I can, will you do me that honor?\"\n\nArthur nodded. There was a moment of stillness, and then he ran Harold through with his sword. Harold gasped and moved no more. Arthur, champion of politeness had won his battle. But at what cost? The Hell of war was never more apparent to him.\n\nEdit: Cuz spelling", "#Title: Jolly Good War\n\n\"Pardon me, I do believe I've stabbed you.\" \n\n\"Quite all right for I had intended to stab you first.\" \n\n\"It's only right. It's only right.\" \n\nThe dialogue within the warzone was not the brutish hateful speech of traditional battles, but the genteel sort. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers were engaged in this armed conflict. The world had reached a point where everybody had agreed that, although they could kill one another from a distance and without a conversation, it would be more civil and productive if they fought in close quarters and spoke with one another as they went about the murder. Many a conflict was resolved quite quickly that way, people got to know where the other was coming from. The world was also several centuries prior re-conquered by Great Britain after the British accidentally invented the best war robots, so most new nations warring with one another spoke good English. The war robots had recently been made illegal once again. This particular war was a Civil War between a rebel faction and the traditional genteel republic of the Even Newer Great Britain that ruled the world. \n\nOne soldier shouted his apologies as he shot a man in the side of the head. Just before the man fell over in a heap, he put his hands into a thumbs up. \n\nTwo soldiers got involved in a hand-to-hand skirmish. The battle went to the ground, and evolved into a beautiful battle of wits in jiu jitsu. They complimented one another on their counter moves. Then, the one man got the other into a hold. The other man tapped out, but that wouldn't work in war. The man in power spoke his piece. \n\n\"Before I kill you I would like to ennumerate the reasons why, ahem,\" The man pulled out a list with his one hand not performing the choke hold. \"\"First of all, the rebel leader assassinated one of our senators without an apology preceding the assassination, nor a proper conversation. Secondly, you rebels have eaten some of our country's finest delicacies without the proper etiquette at the dinner table (you know your manners and we have videos to prove it, apologies for recording you). Thirdly, recently your rebel leaders and our noble leaders had a quick conversation at a big table with a bunch of people around snapping photographs of them. Our leader sneezed and your leaders did not say bless you. Or rather they did, but only after a protracted pause in which our leaders started at them in wonder at how they had no manners. Fourthl-\"\n\nThe man was punched in the side of the face by a soldier passing by. It wasn't kind to kill somebody explaining the reasons for the war, it was one of the new rules of war. A lone knockout punch would suffice. \n\n\"I wanted him to shut up,\" said the rebel soldier as he got up and rubbed his neck. Then he dropped his head. \"But I felt bad about wanting him to shut up, he was so kind.\" \n\n\"He was kind indeed, he's still alive.\" \n\n\"Yes good thing there. Hope we can get this war over with.\" \n\nThen somebody went around in a hovercar with a megaphone. \n\n\"THE WAR IS OVER THE WAR IS OVER THE REBELS HAVE APOLOGIZED FOR NOT SAYING BLESS YOU AND WE'VE DECIDED TO FORGIVE ALL ELSE FOR WE ARE KIND PEOPLE NOT QUICK TO ANGER AND QUICK TO FORGIVE AND QUICK TO HAVE TEA LET US UNITE ONCE MORE GREAT PEOPLE OF EVEN NEWER GREAT BRITAIN.\" \n\n\"Oh TEA!\" rang the crowd in unison, rebels and republic soldiers alike. People stopped mid-fight and began to shake hands with their enemies across from them.\nThe people who were still dying died with smiles on their faces. Ultimately nobody could quite remember why they were fighting, and weren't willing to keep fighting to give each other actual reasons to continue the war. \n\nThe country was re-united. Handshakes abounded." ]	4
	[WP] They told you not to tap the glass.	[ "They told you not to tap the glass. They told you monsters, horrible things would come out. The dome that surrounded the only society humans had known for decades. Maybe centuries, but nobody knew.\nYou were only taught basic science, basic math, and how to read. Writing was banned, history was banned, but society knew not of those powers, for nobody mentioned them. The only thing you knew was: Don't tap the glass. Nobody was ever curious why. They all followed orders that the leader with no name told them. They trusted him. They knew nothing.\nYour 'area' was a technological wasteland. Green items with connecting wire things lay on the floor. Broken glass came out of a metal frame in the dumpster, awaiting a garbage man that never came. Nobody ever went outside. Except for you.\nYou tapped the glass. The only rule you knew of. The only rule you had the ability to break. And you broke it. Curiosity overwhelmed your mind. You were the only one conscious to the world.\nYou knew that you were human.\nThe glass cracked. 'Surely', you thought, 'if they really wanted you to not tap the glass they would have made it out of stronger material.' Your thoughts led to another and you tapped again. the glass started breaking, and you could hear water rushing on the other side, the only natural thing realized by humans for centuries. A crowd began to gather around you. One more tap. The glass broke.\nIt rained over the last of humanity like deadly hail. A voice came from the speakers. \"Attention members.\" The leader called, \"#1982 has broken the glass.\" You glance down at the tattoo on your wrist, stating your official number. A growl came from where nobody had ever been. \"Now you must end up like the rest.\" The growls became louder. \"We tried to protect you.\" The monsters came upon humanity. Screams were heard from around the area. A leaping monster that was half human half lion pounced on you. It was all black and slimy with tendrils coming out of its back. It started ripping you to shreds and the leader laughed on the speaker. \"But you know how it is...\" You screeched in pain as you mutated into a monster, ready to kill any human, and eventually any living being.\n\"Curiosity kills the cat!\"\nThe speakers went offline.\nSo did humanity.\n", "They told you not to tap the glass. They told you of the consequences. Of the misfortunes. The losses. They made sure it was painted well. Hell, they know how to play the game. It could, no, would affect the closest things to you. \n\nThat was six months ago….and six months can feel like an eternity.\n\nWhat's with this glass anyway? That is the question, right? To tap, not to tap. One cliche question after another. New day, new directives. Conformity. Better listen, Big Brother knows best. We're too afraid to act on our own authority. Can't accept the consequences. Well, the hell with that. I know whats best.\n\nYeah I tapped it. And nothing came of it. Liars. I happily embraced their reverse psychology. My life was shit anyways. Nothing to lose. My wife and I were on the fritz; kids no longer saw me as a loving father. Too much time at work, I guess. A job that I stood just enough of to get me away from that place. So yeah, I tapped the glass. What consequences could I not take, right? I had already lost everything anyone could ever hold close to them.\n\nThey told me that was what it was called on the street. Methamphetamine. Yeah, that was it. They said it would turn my life inside out. They said it would tear away the closest things in my life. Nah, I already did that. Liars. As I sat outside the headquarters of the LAPD waiting for my shift to start, I reached inside my coat pocket and felt the cold pipe for the first time that day. The coldness of it all I could not escape. Exhilarating. The freezing winter night could not keep that drip of sweat from rolling down my face. As I pulled my last piece from a little baggy and placed it in my pipe, I thought about how everything was much better now. I had won. Liars." ]	2
	[Wp] The first man ever to become pregnant, is pregnant with the son of satan.	[ "\"I can't believe you actually got me pregnant,\" James groused, his hands folded as he glared at the ten-foot-tall demon standing in front of him. Satan actually looked rather cowed by his anger; his shoulders were slouched, and the angry flames that usually flared around his head had dimmed to a flickering light. \"I told you I didn't want to have any kids!\"\n\n\"But...\" Satan's foot scuffed at the ground awkwardly. \"It's... I didn't know...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, apparently your hellseed is so potent you managed to impregnate one of the stem cells floating around in my body.\" James rolled his eyes, gesturing to the demon-child currently incubating in a tube beside them both. They'd had it removed with a mixture of science and magic almost as soon as the child had been discovered; James' body didn't have the facilities to raise a baby. \"Do you know how much this is going to cost us in terms of childcare? You're lucky I love you.\" \n\n\"Look, babe, I'm sorry,\" Satan pleaded. \"There hasn't been an actual relationship between a demon and a human before now. I had no idea this would happen - nobody did.\"\n\n\"I know that,\" James grumbled. \"I'm just venting, you know I am. Do you have any idea how strange it is to feel something wiggle around inside of you, then be told it's my son? Christ.\" \n\n\"So... you're not actually mad at me?\" Satan asked, his tone hopeful. James sighed, giving the demon a friendly punch in the shoulder.\n\n\"No, hon, I'm not.\" He offered a faint smile. \"What's done is done, and I actually look forward to seeing you as a bumbling father figure for once. You're going to have to concede one thing to me, though.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Satan asked, wary of the mischievous gleam in James' eyes. The human grinned.\n\n\"We'll be making Jesus the godfather.\" \n\nSatan groaned, the sound loud enough to shake the foundations of the house. The baby hadn't even been fully incubated, and already James was making dad jokes. He was going to be in for a tough year, he could tell. Maybe he'd be able to hide out in Hell for a little bit...", "Disclaimer: Meant as comedy. I'm so sorry.\n\n----\n\n\"So you can understand how this is all rather... complicated?\" The Pope asked me, before reaching for a glass of wine. \"There are a lot of ways to approach this issue.\" \n\nHe gestured towards another glass, next to the bottles that lined the serving trays around us. I shook my head. I'd already politely declined the offer, my internet searching indicating that iit was bad for the baby. Instead, I sipped my tea, nodding along with the conversation.\n\n\"Well, I didn't expect things to work out this way either.\" I replied.\n\nThe Pope seemed agreeable enough- much more so than any of the other world leaders who had come to speak with me, although the rest of the people in the room were more than anxious about my presence. That was likely do to the portals from hell that kept trying to rip through the fabric of reality- or perhaps those were just contractions? I was all rather new to this, but I don't think I was nearly far along enough for that.\n\n\"You comprehend the dangers are more often remedied before they can truly manifest, then...\" He leaned back upon the seat, glass of win still in hand, as he drew another sip. He let that hang between a question, and a statement.\n\n\"Well, I really am not sure, exactly what's so difficult to understand.\" I leaned in, trying to ignore the pressure on my hips. \n\n\"But I'm most definitely keeping it- I've always wanted a kid.\"\n\nThe Pope spit his wine in a flabbergasted spray across the table, before waving his hand to slow the panicked guards. I tried my best to hide a smile behind the glass now at my own lips. Green tea didn't sum up this experience well, but it was what I had.\n\n\"You can't be serious!\" \n\nHis tone had shifted from calm and controlled, pushing more into anger- though refined. His face showed little, as he wiped his mouth with an embroidered napkin. After all this pleasantry, the mask was slipping.\n\n\"The very spawn of Satan is-\"\n\n\"Yes- and?\" I cut him off, impatiently waving my free hand.\n\n\"Well, he'll bring about disasters we can only imagine! Fires will rain from the sky- the armies of heaven will be forced to descend upon the mortal plane and do battle with the forces of hell, and the dead will walk this earth-\"\n\n\"I'm actually very fond of the horror genre.\"\n\n\"You- You! Do you even comprehend the dangers that will come of this?\" His mask had certainly fallen off now, his voice raised to a shout, his face contorting in rage; all friendliness gone, and replaced with severity.\n\n\"You must destroy it! Before it can enter the world- you must destroy it!\"\n\nI sat my glass down, softly upon the grand and wood-worked table. With an effort, I continued ignoring the twitches that came from the obscene numbers of bodyguards, now present in the room. Slowly, as to not startle them, I picked up my fedora, fitting it more snugly across my oily scalp.\n\n\"Well, here I was thinking that you were all pro-life.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are 92 years old, on the brink of death. Your doctor says there is a new brain transplant procedure if you're willing to try it. However the only available recipient is a recently deceased 6 year old child's body.	[ "Sweetness is knowing \n\nThat though you're alone \n\nSomeone can remember your skin \n\n. \n\nBlind as beauty was when she called \n\nCemetaries no longer hold my wounds \n\nDeeply drawn into my forehead \n\n. \n\nOnce glistened like silver dew \n\nKisses from wrinkled lips \n\nWondering if I will die soon \n\n. \n\nGone to grace and goodness \n\nBut pulled away from these sins \n\nAnd into a child \n\n. \n\n\"Are you ready?\" \n\nTrembling hands clenched \n\nI wonder if I can swim yet ", "So which is it Clive?, Yes Mr Warren \"death or transplant?''.\nI looked up at my wife, her wrinkly face looking down at me with tears in her eyes. \"where would i go...if proceed with the....surgery?\" \"meaning would i be under custody of my wife or would the child's parents have a 92 year old son? \n\"your wife, the child's parents didn't make it either\" the doctor said\". \nThe room was silent, waiting for my answer. My mouth was dry, and body frail i could barely move. ''92 years...92 years on this planet and over half spent with Mary\". I coupled Marys hand as i continued to speak.\" 63 years we've spent together that's enough for one lifetime don't cha think? \" I suppose that's a no then\". The doctor walked out.I lied back on the bed releasing my wife's hand as she sat and cried silently, I looked out the window the birds and sunshine to see as now, now I am at peace.I closed my eyes...blackness.\n\n\nI was woken up, I'm in a different room. My eyes, i couldn't believe my sight they haven't been this great in a long time.I looked down and the bed was much larger then my one before in the other room.That's when i looked across and saw my reflection...I had stitches across my forehead, I was a child.", "Amanda stood waiting on the subway platform, looking at the time on her phone. It was only a minute later than the last time she checked. She let out a sigh and considered if she should sit down. Just as she decided, she heard a low rumbling in the underground tunnel. Her eyes lit up as she saw a train speeding its way toward her stop.\n\nThe train slowed down quickly and opened its doors. A rush of people exited swiftly and Amanda waited patiently. Once she found an opening, she noticed a small boy walking out at the end of the large line of departing passengers.\n\nSomething seemed wrong. Amanda had an odd suspicion that the boy was alone. She watched as the two people in front of him turned left, but he turned right instead.\n\n\"Wait!\" she yelled, running after the young child. She grabbed him by the shoulder and knelt down to reach his level. \"Where are you parents?\" she asked calmly. \"Are you lost?\"\n\n\"Hrmmph,\" the boy exhaled loudly. \"Let go of me, miss,\" he said. \"I'm not a child.\"\n\nAmanda took a moment and then let go. \"Oh, yes, of course, you're a big boy,\" she said. \"I'm just wondering if you got separated from your parents?\"\n\nThe boy shook his head. \"I don't have parents, ma'am, I'm ninety-two years old.\"\n\n\"Wha-what?\" asked Amanda.\n\n\"I had my mind put into this body,\" the boy answered. \"Haven't you ever heard of that new brainy plant thing? I did that.\"\n\n\"Oh, the brain transplant procedure that was in the news?\" asked Amanda, still in disbelief.\n\n\"Yes, that's what I said!\" the boy responded. \"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get going.\"\n\nAmanda stood in shock as the boy walked away toward the subway stairs.\n\n\"Billy!\" a voice called from behind Amanda. \"There you are!\"\n\nA woman ran passed and scooped up the boy from the ground.\n\nAmanda stepped forward. \"Wait, so he really is a boy?\" she asked. \"He's not a ninety-two year old man?\"\n\nThe woman grimaced and carried the boy with her toward the direction she entered. As the two passed Amanda, the young boy gave her a wink." ]	3
	[WP] You awake naked, handcuffed to a bed with a woman laying on top of you. Only one catch... She's Dead.	[ "Waking up to the taste of stale beer vomit in your mouth is bad enough, but not being able to wipe whatever’s caked on is even worse.\n\n“Augh, bright,” was all I could croak out once I managed to open my eyes to see where the hell I was and why I couldn’t move my arm. I looked up to see a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs and a pair of bruised wrists. My head was pounding too hard to even consider thinking about last night, but I’m guessing it was pretty great.\n\nLooking down left me looking at a pretty hot redhead, from what I could see of her. The sheets were mostly off her bare back and her head was buried somewhere next to my shoulder. \n\n“Rise and shine, sweetheart. I need to get home before my lunch or my wife is going to kill me.” I tried jiggling around a bit, eventually using my foot to nudge her as she was face-down on the mattress. Jesus, she was a heavy sleeper.\nI didn’t have time for this but I also didn’t want to piss her off or she might leave without unlocking me, so I did the next best thing: I gave her a little morning poke. I’m pretty limber, not to toot my own horn, so I managed to get her lined up using my legs and, well, got to waking her up. \n\nAs soon as I got in there, though, something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t reacting at all, and worse yet, it was cold. \n\nMy eyes went wide and I used my legs to pull her down as best I could, but she was so damn limp. Finally, as her face came down across the length of my arm, I felt her leave a trail behind. I nearly threw up at the sight of it. \n\n“Holy shit. Holy shit! Fuck fuck fuck.” Thinking doesn’t work too well when you’re trapped under a dead girl you just necrophilia’d. It’s even harder when you’re this hung over. I looked around the room for anything that could at least get me out of these damn handcuffs within foot distance, but no luck. The only chance I saw was to get to standing position on the bed, climb behind the bed, and push it around until I could find something to get the cuffs off. Also it was 10 am, and I needed to be out of here before maid service came through.\n\nWith enough wiggling and body turning, I managed to get the redhead onto the floor. I turned completely over and, from kneeling position, managed to stand up at the head of the bed. Slowly, I climbed over the headboard and, from standing position behind it, began pushing my way forward, just in time for my phone to start ringing on the nightstand. \n\nFYI, answering a phone with your toe to speakerphone is hard.\n\n“Hey man,” came my friend Kyle’s voice. “Wiiiiild party last night. Did you get home okay?”\n\n“Actually,” I said, trying to sound as non-freaked out as I actually was,” I ended up crashing at a hotel. Do you mind giving me a ride back to wherever it is that I left my car? I don’t want to roll up in a cab or Trish will get pissed.” \n\n“Yeah, man, no prob. Where did you end up? Are you alone?” The last part was asked half-jokingly.\n\n“Heh, yeah I’m alone. Not another living soul in here to give me shit for being this hung over. I’m at…” I looked for some kind of stationary. “I’m at the Holiday Inn on 12th. And do you mind coming up to my room? I think I sprained something and I can’t walk very well.”\n\n“Not walking straight, huh?”\n\n“Shut up, man.”\n\n“Be there in 15. Peace.”\n\nI didn’t know what to do. What would I tell him when he got here? What would we do about the body? Did I do this? No, I couldn’t have. I’m a pretty wild drunk, but not deadly. The last thing I could remember, painfully, was the boys taking my wallet because “drinks were on them, tonight” and tossing it to the bartender. Maybe shit got out of hand. Maybe it was an accident. I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to figure out what room this was so I could tell Kyle when he called again. Thankfully, I found the card key sleeve where it was written in Sharpie. Somehow I had managed to unlock the door with my feet even though the bed didn’t fit down the miniature hall from the bedroom to the door. \n\nI heard a knock and instantly was scared shitless that it might be the maid. Kyle hadn’t called, yet.\n\n“Rich? You in there? I hope the 300-year old woman at the front desk sent me to the right room or this is going to get reeeeeeal awkward.”\n\n“Uh yeah, I’m in here. Door’s unlocked.” I could only imagine Kyle’s surprise when he walked in to me standing buck-naked in front of the rear-side of a headboard. \n \n“What the fuck?!” He quickly closed the door behind him.\n\n“Dude, I need your help.”\n\n“Yeah, no shit. What the hell did you do? Shit! Was this with the redhead from the bar?” He clearly remembered more than I did about last night. \n\n“Yes, but… there’s more.” I gestured further into the bedroom. The bed was blocking his line of sight to the dead girl I had toppled onto the floor.\n\n“She still here? Dude you are so f—.“ It doesn’t take much to figure out why someone would be lying face down on the floor at such an unnatural angle. \n“You have to help me,” I pleaded. \n\n“Did you do it?” He was dead serious, now. Kyle was my best friend since high school for two reasons: he could party like a 6th year college senior and he could take care of serious business like a 6th year associate turned partner.\n \n“No! I… I don’t remember anything, but I am positive I couldn’t have done this.”\n\nKyle stood there, brow furrowed. “Well first, we need to call the police.”\n\n“No. No! I can’t get mixed up in this. What about Trish?”\n\n“A: You’re already in this. B: Trish is going to find out no matter what, since they have cameras all over this place and they have footage of you two coming in here. Cops will be involved no matter what, so you’d better get proactive about this, buddy.”\n\nHe was right, and I knew it. “Fine, but can you help me get dressed at least?”\n\n“Do it yourself! I’m not touching a guy’s bare anything that’s been under a dead girl all night.” \n \n“Dude,” I said, yanking at the handcuffs. Kyle reached over and released them instantly.\n\n“You got lucky. Those novelty ones usually have a safety release on them. I’m surprised you didn’t look for that first before you dragged the whole fucking bed around. Oh, and by the way,” he said, tossing me my wallet. “You left this at the bar last night. Maybe you can use it to pay off one of these cops from throwing you in jail. Now hurry up and get dressed.”\n\nI took the next few minutes to dress myself while Kyle stepped outside to call the police. I looked back at the redhead on the floor for a few moments. I didn’t even know her name, or remember having sex with her. I’ve gotten drunk before, but this was some blackout shit or something. How could a girl have died on top of me and me not remember it? She was dead and on me all night and I slept through that? I continued putting on my pants, thinking about whether or not I stunk from dead girl, allowing myself to laugh at Kyle’s comment earlier about not wanting to touch me… Even though I never told Kyle about being under her all night. That wasn’t weird, though, since it’s just a turn of phrase. \n\nI picked up my wallet off the counter to stick into my pants and casually opened it up to make sure everything was still in there when I noticed one credit card not in the slot I usually stick it. Trying to rationalize, I figured I probably put it back awkwardly last night after paying for… nothing. I didn’t have my wallet all night. So how did I pay for the hotel room? Did the dead girl pay for it? How did Kyle know what room to find me in if my name wasn’t registered to the room?\n\nI walked towards the door and put my ear up to it. Kyle was still on the phone with the police, but his voice sounded weird, like it was panicked. It was muffled, but eventually one word came through clearer than the rest.\n\n“…murdered…”\n\nWhat the fuck? I was freaking out again and I knew I had to get out of there. Kyle had left his keys on the counter inside, luckily, so I pocketed them and headed for the window. Luckily the room was on the first floor with a small outside patio. I quickly and quietly jumped the fence outside and bolted for Kyle’s car as soon as I saw it. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but like hell I’m going to stick around while someone calls me a murderer.\n\nAs I calmly pulled out of the parking lot and made my way towards my neighborhood, I noticed four patrol cars zip past me and towards the Holiday Inn. I didn’t have much time, but I had to talk to my wife before everything hit the fan.\n", "I'm learning a lot about myself today.\n\nFirst of all, apparently I like women. Most of the time coming out of the closet takes time and patience and support, as well as rigorous self-exploration. For me, I confirmed this when I awoke to a woman on top of me.\n\nI also apparently enjoy rough sex. The woman is covered in various bite marks, scratches and soon to be bruises... well, they'll never be bruises judging by her lack of pulse.\n\nFinally, I'm trapped here. Not mentally, but physically. I am literally cuffed to the bed frame. Probably some sex act.\n\nI'm surprised that I can maintain this sort of calm. Maybe it's a reaction to adrenaline. Maybe I'm used to this sort of thing. Maybe, and I shudder to think about this, this isn't new to me.\n\nMy first thought is to escape. But how?\n\nI try and shift the dead woman off of me. Her body is somewhat stiff. She's been dead for several hours, at least. Her blonde hair gets in my mouth. I cough it out. The hair stinks of Herbal Essences coconut paradise.\n\nWhy do I know that? I'm not entirely sure. I roll her over, pushing her away with my thighs. \n\nI turn my attention the the handcuffs. The bed frame is old. Wrought iron. Purchased a decade ago from an old woman who had owned it since the last great war. Rusty now. The cuffs on the other hand, are shiny. I bought them at Kink Co's two days ago.\n\nMemories! Memories coming back to me. I must be hungover, because my head hurts.\n\nAnyways, this bed frame has a suspiciously rusty spot. I rub the chain against them. After what was probably about two hours, I managed to break them.\n\nI groan in relief, putting my arms in front of me. I've been like this for a while.\n\nNow for the key... where did I put the key? \n\n\"Looking for something?\" I hear a voice. \n\nI jump back as the door to my bedroom opens.\n\n\nA well dressed man steps through. He doesn't seem surprised to see me.\n\n\"Uh... I...\" I vigorously try and draw an explanation for the dead woman in my bed.\n\n\"I see your memories aren't fully back.\" the man tells me. He retrieves a shiny silver key out of his pocket. I should feel scared of this strange man, but he seems oddly familiar. \n\n\"Do I... know you?\" I ask him.\n\n\n\"Yeah. Give me your hands.\" \n\nI hold out my arms, and he unlocks the cuffs. My wrists are red.\"\n\n\"I need to put my... clothes on.\" I blink a few times. Time is starting to speed up, instead of this slow motion I've been stuck in.\n\n\"Her clothes on.\" the man corrects me.\n\n\"What? This is my apartment!\" I tell him. \"That's my closet.\"\n\nHe simply shakes his head no. I want him to leave, but I the same time I get the feeling he knows me more than I know myself... for now at least.\n\nI put on my comfiest jeans and a Black Sabbath tee shirt that shows off my barbed wire tattoo.\n\n\"I don't know why you picked this woman.\" the man shakes his head.\n\n\"What are you on about?\" I ask him, coming out of the closet.\n\n\"You're in New York City and this was the best you could do? Not even a starlet or some bored trophy wife?\"\n\n\"What are you...\"\n\n\"Come on. She's not your usual body.\"\n\nMy first reaction is to be confused. This man is crazy! But he's right. About what, I don't know.\n\n\"Hunh. Your memories are taking way longer than usual to come back. The woman must have been a fighter.\" he examines teeth marks on my hand. \"A biter, at the least.\"\n\n\"What's going on here?\" I ask him.\n\nThe man pauses for a second. He seems to be picking words carefully, but then dismisses a thought.\n\n\"Why don't you just look in the mirror?\" he asked.\n\nI look into the woman's makeup desk mirror. This face is definitely not mine. But it's familiar. \n\nOh god.\n\nI look back toward the bed. The woman has the same tattoo as me, same spot. Same bite marks on her hand. Same blonde hair washed by Herbal Essences coconut paradise. \n\n\"What the fuck.\" I gasp.\n\n\"Calm down.\" the man rolls his eyes. \"You're a succubi.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"A succubi. A demon of sex. Slut of the underworld and whatnot.\"\n\n\"Wait. I'm a- no. That's not right. I'm Julia Price from Connecticut. I moved her to be a professor of women's studies at NYU.\"\n\n\"That's the body you took's identity. Apparently you got a little lost when taking her identity.\"\n\n\"Um..\" how do you respond to something like that?\n\n\"Succubi don't have a true physical form. They appear as the type of person you'd crave most. My guess is that you'd gotten tired of not having an actual identity and you absorbed her life. All that's left of the actual Ms. Price is the shell.\"\n\n\"Are you saying I... killed her?\"\n\n\"Not just killed her. You took her identity. Her soul.\"\n\n\"Oh my god.\"\n\n\"The boss doesn't approve of us using that language.\"\n\n\"What. The. Fuck.\"\n\n\"That's better.\"\n\n\"How do you know all of this?\"\n\n\"I'm sent to track down demons like you. Ones who come back to life by stealing a soul. That's a big no-no. Violates pretty much one of the few rules that us demons hold sacred. Tamper with life, but don't take it away. That's cheating.\"\n\n\"...this is just a bad dream.\"\n\n\"No. It isn't.\"\n\n\"Shut up, Beelzebub!\"\n\n\"Ah. So you DO remember me.\"\n\n\"What? No I-\"\n\n\"Listen up, succubus.\" he tells me. \"I'm going to let you run around for a few weeks. You've been pretty loyal to Hell and this is a first offense, so I can turn a blind eye and let you be human.\"\n\nI don't respond. I have a headache.\n\n\"Just... don't turn into a good person. Then I have to ring up St. Peter and fill out a bunch of formworks for your soul, and...\"\n\n\"You have three weeks. Go to the beach. Have sex for fun and not for your job. Pet a puppy or eat a puppy or something. I don't know.\"\n\nThis doesn't feel right. I'm not as good-hearted as Julia, but I'm not some... demon either.\n\n\"Anyways, good luck. I'll be back in a while to check up on you.\"\n\n\"...okay.\" I'm practically speechless. \n\nBeelzebub slicks back his hair, and grabs Dead Julia off of the bed.\n\n\"I can probably use this, so I'm going to take it. Save you some trouble with the police.\" he grunts and lifts the dead body off of the bed. \"See you in a while.\" he disappears in. A puff of smoke.\n\nI sink back against the wall. I realize that I was clutching the handcuff so tightly that they outlined on my skin.\n\nSomething isn't right. The Julia in me is upset, distraught. The Succubi in me is also distraught. Something didn't go right when absorbing Julia's soul into me.\n\nWho am I, really?\n\nI decide that thinking about it any further isn't going to help. I get up and go to the desk, grabbing mine/Julia's keys. \n\nI leave the apartment, and step out into the sunny day. Who knows? Maybe I am human. Julia seems to like sunshine, and so do I. \n\nI walk toward the bus station, determined to put this time to good use.\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You wire money to a Nigerian Prince who's assets were previously frozen and needed help with legal fees. Turns out he's real, uses the money to stage a coup, and you're now wanted by the CIA.	[ "The IRS couldn't lay a finger on me. Anyone who had anything to ask me got a polite redirect to my lawyer and from there to my financial gnomes. Zeeman & Edwards had worked the tax code like a Stradivarius so far, and they didn't disappoint this time. They answered all the questions and showed the IRS all the paperwork, everything properly stamped, sealed, notarized, and signed. The IRS walked away collectively scratching their shiny, bullet-shaped heads like someone who thought they got the better end of the deal but was still walking home in the rain with nothing but their underwear.\n\nSkip forward a few more years. The four million dollar personal insurance stash I had pretty much doubled. I expanded by portfolio, building a couple of companies in construction and trucking. Even in a depression, stuff still needs to get around and stuff still needs to get built. \n\nI was living a damn good life. I had money to pay my bills, I had food on my table, I had a bed to sleep on, and I had more friends than enemies. Life was good. \n\nThen I got the email.\n\nAll of us get the email at some point in our lives. We all know it. There are variations on how it breaks down, and mine ended up like this: Sir, I need your assistance. I am so-and-so, representing Mr. VIP. Mr. VIP has Money in a bank account. Mr. VIP cannot access said account. Mr. VIP needs a third party to make a monetary deposit into a joint account so that Mr. VIP can transfer their Money from the inaccessible account into the joint account. Mr. VIP now has access to the Money, third party gets their money back, plus a small percentage of the Money. Everybody goes out for ice cream.\n\nRemember all those lottery winner pitfalls I avoided? Along with people begging or even straight-up demanding I give them money, scams are a way of life for lottery winners. Con artists tend to work fast, because lottery winners tend to go through their money like it was thermite going through an engine block. I had my share come around to try their luck, but with the pragmatism of my friends and lawyers, when the scammers found out that the money I had wasn't liquid enough or in assets that were easily sold, they quickly moved on. The success I had with my companies also bumped my unofficial personal blurb from 'lottery winner' to 'entrepreneur'. \n\nAnyway, the email. Yes, I was fully aware of the scam. Yes, my lawyers and I had just closed a sweet multi-state transport deal that involving four other trucking companies, three somewhat-minor railroads, and two small air freight carriers. Yes, I had more than a few beers in me at the time. Yes, ten thousand dollars is chump change to me. But I was feeling magnanimous, damn it. \n\nSo I did it. I didn't even ask any questions. I just replied back to The Honorable Harrison Okoduwa, Barrister, Esquire, etc., etc. asking where to send the money. I didn't expect reply a few minutes later with a bank routing number. In Trinidad and Tobago. Wait, what? Apparently, because of a generous interpretation of their laws, certain financial institutions in Trinidad have been established specifically for people who don't want a Swiss bank but want the same kind of stuff that Swiss banks are capable of doing. So, instead of yummy chocolate, fine timepieces, and pocket tool thingies with an incidental metal shiv that might qualify as a knife if squinted at sideways, you get awesome beaches, drinks in a plastic coconut with a little umbrella, and lots of sunscreen. Still drunk, I called up Ms. Rodriguez, who handles my 'incidentals' at Z & E, and asked her if I had any accounts in Trinidad.\n\nNo hesitation. \"Yes, sir. Two of them.\"\n\n\"Great. Wire ten grand to this account.\" I gave the routing number.\n\n\"This is unusual, sir. Do you want me to do this right away?\" \n\n\"I'm doing this as a personal favor for a friend.\" Well, not quite. But Mr. Okoduwa wasn't an enemy, was he? Judgement is always the first to go when one drinks. \"Check with Robert if there are any problems.\" Robert Michel van den Bos Edwards is the Edwards part of Z & E, but everyone knows him as Chucky. I have no idea why. During and after the unwanted IRS attention, \"Check with Robert\" was established as a code phrase to let Ms. Rodriguez know to make sure whatever needs to get done is done cleanly, and more important, quietly.\n\n\"I understand, sir. I'll take care of it.\"\n\nJust like that, I became a blip on the NSA's radar. An infinitesimal blip, but still a blip. This was going to change in the very near future.", "Day 70, ATE (After The Email)\nI found out what the NSA has code-named me. Apparently, I am \"Bankroll\". Hey, I didn't pick it. \n\nThe civil war in Nigeria is all the news these days, what with the coup that Emmanuel Akinrinade started three weeks ago. Two months ago, I had absolutely no replies to emails or calls and I was thinking, \"well, that's ten thousand down the drain.\" Then all of a sudden, Lagos is under attack and Akinrinade is pushing hard for Abuja.\n\nPresident Buhari has appealed for mediation from the United Nations, but he hasn't been heard from for the past three days. His last broadcast was from an obvious bomb shelter and he was in his shirtsleeves, dirty and sweaty and flanked by four huge bodyguards. The handheld video was grainy from bad light with occasional flickering that the armchair generals attributed to artillery impacting near whatever was supplying power.\n\nSay what you will, I think Akinrinade started the coup off brilliantly. The first inklings of conflict didn't even make international news. Power stations started going down, followed by seizures of the mostly government-run television and radio stations by heavily armed men. The few that stayed on the air reported fighting in Lagos and it's outskirts. Shortly after that, cell towers and internet began to go offline. Radio intercepts from shortwave and military transmissions relayed to the world that something big was going down. A few days later, refugees crossing the border into Benin reported tanks and helicopters heading northeast in a steady stream and had some video to back up their claims. \n\nI saw some of the smuggled footage. Thanks to Google, I was able to identify the military equipment. T-90s, with reactive armor and the new anti-warhead ADM. Century-series Kalashnikovs. Some older Hind-Ds, but there was a sprinkling of Ka-50s in some shots, even some heavy-lift Mi-26s. Where Akinrinade got the pilots for those, I have no idea. The troops looked fit, well-equipped, and motivated. And it seemed like Akinrinade had a lot of them. \n\nI watched the footage over and over, horrified. I might never know if I was the cause of this. I may have been one of dozens who sent money to Mr. Harrison Okoduwa. All he wanted was ten thousand dollars, and he would have access to seven BILLION dollars, of which I would receive one percent as a token fee for my assistance and, of course, the overwhelming gratitude of an entire nation.\n\nLike I said, I may have been one of dozens. But what if I wasn't? What if I was the only one to send money? My money may have started all of this.\nMy. Ten. Thousand. Lousy. Dollars.\n\nThis isn't the first time I've had a government agency after me, of course. I had won the lottery six years back. Two and a half million dollars. Not huge, as some lottery prizes go, but still a pretty chunk of cash. I avoided the usual lottery winner pitfalls and got an aggressive up-and-coming financial firm to manage my money. They diversified into international markets, read the trends, and picked winner after winner, both short and long term. I could have funded a small charity just on the dividends and interest. (I did.) Then, a couple of years back, I specified that I wanted four million dollars to remain as fairly liquid assets, either in gold or in currency, in a variety of safe deposit boxes in American and international banks. And none of them tied directly to me. With a wink and a nod, Zeeman & Edwards took twenty percent off the top and had done exactly that. \n\nThat was when the IRS came a-knockin'. They knew I had the cash. They just couldn't get their hooks into it. And that is something the IRS does not tolerate." ]	2
Your caravan is caught in a blizzard which renders your sensors useless. In your hurry to get the shelters up and everybody to safety, you hardly notice the earth trembling. Then you see it. A towering behemoth lurks into view through the swirling frigid ash. Running is no longer an option.	[WP]War left the world in an endless winter. Autonomous machines called "The Phage" roam the land aimlessly without a signal from the long dead factions that deployed them. You hunt the small ones for their power cells, but when a Terra Phage shows up on the sensors, you run.	[ "I took some creative liberties with the prompt. Instead of a caravan, I've written a single man separated from a caravan.\n\n#### Solid Glass.\n\nThere were big snowflakes, and there were small snowflakes. Eventually they fell in large enough quantities to allow people to pack them together. With enough packed together snow, one could make a fortress. 'Fort Sassafras' was hardly a fortress, but it served its purpose. Glass had spent a few days more than usual building this one, but it had been his best one yet. \n\nIt was dome-shaped, with a small chimey peeking out of the top. He had taken care to dig into the layers of snow to bury it a bit; he didn't want it to be easily visible. He had also taken care to gather as much sassafras as he could find. The stuff was everywhere, and it gave off little smoke when burned. It was tough finding the dry stuff with all the damned powder covering everything, but Glass had devised a decent system of drying it in the sun over the past few days.\n\nHe gathered up some of the kindling into a bundle and tucked it under his arm along with his sack. He then made his way, crouched on his hands and knees, through the small tunneled opening in his new fort.\n\nInside, the fire was still alive. He cracked a few twigs in half and built them up carefully around the dug out fire hole. He stuck one of the smaller pieces in his mouth and chewed. Fort Sassafras was fairly big. There was enough room for a small sleeping area, a small working area, and a den where the fire was. In the work area, a makeshift desk jutted out from the snow-ice wall with two heftier branches driven into the floor to serve as legs. Above the desk hung a small lense.\n\nGlass crawled over to his workstation, sack dragging behind him. He didn't need to crawl, but it felt less tiring than walking crouched over. The center of dome was about as tall as Glass, but it still felt a bit tight. At his desk, he sat on an ice-block that had been covered with hide. He heaved the sack up onto the desk and turned it over, dumping out the contents onto his workstation. He breathed a foggy breath onto the lense that dangled above the desk and wiped it clean. He adjusted it, allowing light to beam in from the small chimney above. The light refracted, illuminating the contents that had been strewn infront of him: Phage guts.\n\nHe had spent the better half of a week hunting this one down. He had wandered for miles, and his radar had almost run out of juice. The last time that had happened ... He shook his head and rifled through the hunks of metal. He knew he had grabbed a power core, which would give him another week or two of juice, but he was more interested in the smaller components. His Book had only needed a few things: a new processor, possibly a stick of memory, an antenna. Then he could get back in touch with UO5.\n\nThe fire crackled. The inside of Fort Sassafras was a comfortable temperature, and Glass continued to inspect each small component he had salvaged from the Phage husk. The packed-snow walls dampened reverberation, and so Glass worked in the quiet stillness.\n\n### To be continued. ", "The circuitry sparked, wires snapped like snakes beneath his gloves, as he pulled the Power Cell out, the lights on phage dimmed to nothing. If it had arms or a head left, it would have drooped, slumped over like an exhausted toddler.\n\nBut those parts of it had exploded into innumerable pieces, splaying out behind and around the Phage. Barden smiled and tossed the core deftly in his hand.\n\n“I think this one’s mostly full,” He held it to his exposed, red cheek, “It’s still warm.” \n\nCharles motioned for it, caught it when Barden threw it over and committed the same ritual against his cheek.\n\n“Fuckin’ hell, mate, it seems our luck is starting to turn.” His voice was thick, the sort of limey, British accent suitable only for national stereotypes. Charles removed a glove and cupped it, warming his fingers and looked to the horizon. “Let’s head back, weather looks like it’s going to turn.”\n\nGreat, hulking clouds peeled over the mountain peaks at the edge of their vision. Heavy, dark and ominous, the color of a raging, flooding river. Though the snow fell around them lazily now, the next few hours would change that. Soon they wouldn’t be able to see five feet in front of them. Somewhere in the vast distance, a glacier snapped, sending its echo through the valley.\n\n“I’d be more worried about the Coyotes, if I were you,” Barden said sarcastically. The joke never ceased to get a smile out of Charles. Storms offered a certain form of danger different than the Phages. Even though they came and went almost daily, they had an air of unpredictability. They were impersonally savage and unbearably cold. One could take down a ‘Coyote’ ill prepared; it was difficult, but possible.\n\nBeing taken unawares by a storm would not offer as good of odds.\n\nBarden packed the core with the rest of the day’s find and wrapped his head back up with his massive scarf. Charles trudged in front of him, planting his feet firmly in the snow; Barden walked in his footsteps.\n\n---\n\nThe echoing crack of another falling glacier filled the air, or perhaps a shifting iceberg in the great sea beyond, reverberating and traveling along the snowy peaks. But this time the shattering crack seemed closer. \n\n“I don’t think that was an echo, Charles.”\n\n“Aye, don’t say it. Don’t think it.”\n\n“Should we—“\n\n“Hurry the fuck up? Yes.” \n\nThe snow was still falling lazily, but it was no longer a buzzing static. It was thick, and blanketing. Creating a veil that diluted Charles’ figure with perfect whiteness, just 10 feet from Barden. Charles flipped open a compass, noted his surroundings then slammed a stake into the ground. He leaned down and flipped a switch, a red light atop of the pylon started to blink regularly. \n\n“Just another quarter mile or so.”\n\nThey walked past what their group had started to call their 'Bread Crumb' and up the hill.\n\nAnother tremor. This one large enough to force Barden and Charles to widen their stance for balance. Snow shifted and fell into their footprints, atop the peaks snow began to avalanche.\n\n“Charlie…” Barden said uneasily. But Charles said nothing, instead responded by quickening his pace, taking large leaping steps up the hill. To sweat in this weather was never good, but Charles didn’t seem to care for hypothermia that might kill him in two hours. \n\nBarden took another step and the world seemed to explode. He cupped his ears and crouched instinctively. The earth shook around him, a cacophony of noises, of shattering ice, of falling rock and echoing thunder assaulted him. It sounded like a mountain turning in on itself, like a creaking tree, and the deafening crack when it finally explodes under stress. He screamed but couldn’t hear himself. The roiling earth groaned and bent.\n\nA mechanical roar added itself to the orchestra of chaos. Low, resonating and deep, the kind that made their hearts skip a beat. Inhuman and ear piercing, the sound of a forlorn foghorn emanating from the salted mists of the ocean; of an overzealous trumpeter hitting a quintuple forte on his sheet music; of groaning steel as a ship is swallowed up by the ocean. The noise itself seemed to create another tremor.\n\nBarden and Charles looked behind them and saw it. A great hulking mass rising slowly from a snowy hill, the snowy hill they had been standing on not two hours prior. Waterfalls of snow fell from its figure, trees and their massive root systems careened towards the earth. Though they fell hundreds of feet, their crash was swallowed up by the distance, the snow and the penetrating sound of the massive matter than rose from the depths of the earth. Even with the distance and the obscuring snow, they could make out its mass. Trees hundreds of feet tall would be poor toothpicks for something that size.\n\nA massive arm pulled itself from the earth and planted hard in the snow, sending another shockwave through the valley. As it pushed free, its head tilted upward, and a light flared to life. The damning color of blood, as large and precise as a spot light. It swept through the valley, a lifeless red amid a colorless landscape.\n\n“Charlie… what—“ \n\n“Run.” Charles said, then again, “Run and don’t look back.”\n\nThey ran.\n \n", "PART I\n\nJasper took another peek through his scope.\n\n\"Same as yesterday, Chief. Two lesser phages, one trapped in the ice, one missing a leg and mostly immobilized. Coast is clear.\" A moment passed in silence.\n\n\"Scrap them,\" ordered Chief Paxton. Jasper tapped Vardy on the shoulder and both men squeezed off two rounds from their rifles. A quarter of a mile away, the two lesser phages crumpled to the ground.\n\nA short walk later, Vardy tore open the chassis of the phage that was missing a leg.\n\n\"Look like shit on the outside, but I think these guys are in pretty good shape where it matters. What do you have, J?\"\n\nJasper sliced into the snowbound phage with his torch and rummaged around. The power cells were in great shape- this phage must have been immobile for most of its life- and most of the copper wire was still usable.\n\n\"It's a good haul today, Chief,\" announced Jasper into his headset. \"We'll be back before sundown.\"\n\n\n\nJasper tossed his rucksack to the ground and sunk into his ragged camp chair. Paxton and two of the new recruits had started a fire in the center of camp, but Jasper needed to rest his legs more than he needed warmth. Vardy went to work cutting a chunk of ice out of the ground to boil later in the evening.\n\nThe caravan had been camped on the middle of the Mississippi River for three days. Hunting parties had left for Vicksburg shortly after the camp was pitched, and Jasper's was the first to return. The others were set to arrive the next morning so the caravan could be on time to Crescent City.\n\nAt long last, Jasper made his way to the center of camp, where the other hunters and the two recruits, Marley and Tesho were huddled around the fire. Jasper shouldered his way into the ring between Marley and Vardy.\n\n\"Have we seen any other travelers?\" Jasper asked Marley. The new guy would know- he wouldn't be allowed on his first hunt until the return trip from Crescent City.\n\n\"A group from St. Louis passed us heading south yesterday carrying furs, but there hasn't been a peep from the bayou since Memphis. Maybe the Gulf routes are looking good for once.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Jasper muttered. \"No one ever comes back from Yucatan though.\"\n\n\n\nJasper crawled into his tent and made sure his things were still in order. His map, his bedroll, his field kit- everything was there. But something felt off. As he laid his head down for a night's sleep before the next day's trek, he felt the current of the river through twenty feet of ice. Even after the Mire, the Mississippi still had a mighty current. There were some things that mankind couldn't fuck up.\n\nHe was nearly asleep when he heard Tesho shouting from the other side of camp. Grumbling all the way, Jasper pulled on his overcoat and balaclava, grabbed his rifle and field kit, and headed into the cold.\n\nAs he poked his head outside, he heard a deep rumbling from the south. Avalanche, surely he thought to himself. Tesho had probably spotted a wolfpack on one of the banks. He glanced at the sensor on his wrist. Jammed from an ash storm rolling in. Vardy appeared next to him, having woken from his own slumber.\n\n\"What's the new kid wailing about this time?\" Vardy asked. Jasper shrugged and jammed a clip into his rifle. A wolf hunt was the last thing he needed on a night like this. In the distance, the rumbling grew louder.\n\nTesho was still shouting when they reached his watch post at the southern edge of camp. A few other hunters were there as well.\n\n\"I saw a sensor light in the distance!\" shrieked Tesho. \"Through the ash!\"\n\n\"Have a look at the neophyte!\" called one of the hunters. \"He's found himself a Terra on the middle of the river!\" The crowd chuckled while Jasper pulled the teen off to the side.\n\n\"Crescent City keeps the river and the delta clear of phage activity,\" he explained to Tesho. \"Ash storms harbor flashes of static electricity sometimes. You didn't see anything.\" The rumbling grew louder.\n\nA piercing crack split the relative silence of the night wide open. One of the hunters in the crowd behind Jasper and Tesho screamed, and the entire camp awoke, shouting and reaching for their weapons.\n\nJasper turned and came face to face with Vardy, who was staring expressionless into the oncoming storm and sporting a six-inch hole in his chest. As Jasper's partner crumpled to the ground, the red sensor of a phage glinted through the ash. The rumbling grew louder." ]	3
	[WP] A woman visits her father in his dilapidated home as he's dying and confronts old feelings.	[ "On Sunday, she drove out to Piha to see her dad. They cooked steaks on the barbecue and listened to Muddy Waters and when it was getting late they opened a bottle of Tullamore Dew. They only had a thimble full because her dad said they only needed a taste and she had to drive anyway. They sat on the deck with their inch of whiskey and talked about the world like they knew what it was and what it wasn’t. She didn’t share details about the case but her father had read enough in the papers. \n\nI think a lot about who she is, who she might have been, she said.\n\nWe are what we are when the asking is done. \n\nYou believe that?\n\nI believe it. \n\nYou don’t think it matters if she had a family or might have planned on it one day?\n\nI think it matters if it helps you find her folks. Give them some peace.\n\nYou think that’s the best I can hope for?\n\nI think that’s the best anyone can hope for. \n\nThat won’t help me.\n\nNeither will asking about what she’s going to miss out on. She’s already missed it.\n\nWhat do you think you’ll miss?\n\nI don’t wanna talk about that.\n\nDad..\n\nThis, I’ll miss this.\n\nMe too. \n\nAin’t we a pair?\n\nShe didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t say anything at all. They sat there for a long time mulling over the silence broken only by the chirp of crickets joined by cicadas whenever the security lights flickered on and the occasional hoot of a morpork somewhere in the bush covered hills behind the house.\n\nDid I ever tell you about when grandad and I saw the US detonate the Hydrogen Bomb in space?\n\nNo.\n\nWe came and stood outside just like this and they said on the radio you could see it from New Zealand and they were right. The US wanted to know what would happen if they detonated a bomb above the atmosphere. It’s how they found out about EMP because without the atmosphere there’s no blast from the bomb.\n\nBecause there’s no air to push.\n\nRight. I remember the sky went orange like a sunset for about fifteen minutes but it was too late to be a sunset. \n\nWhat sort of orange?\n\nA purple kind of orange. \n\nReddish?\n\nNo, a kind of purple orange. Almost fluorescent. I don’t think there’s another colour like it. I think about humans making that and the rest doesn’t seem so hard to imagine. \n\nWhy did you leave mum? \n\nThat was a long time ago. \n\nI need to know.\n\nDo you really or do you just think you do?\n\nI do. \n\nYour mother’s a hard woman to get along with. She’s a wonderful, passionate woman. But hot flames burn the quickest as they say. \n\nShe said the same thing.\n\nWell it’s the truth of it.\n\nWhy did you leave me?\n\nHannah.. \n\nI didn’t even know you. Fifteen years without a word. I hated you. I hated you so much. Now I just hate myself. Why didn’t I try to find you? Why did it take me so god damn long? Why do you have to.. why now? Just when we’re..\n\nI know. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. You’ll understand when you have kids of your own. It’s never their fault. It couldn’t possibly be. \n\nI miss you already.\n\nTheir talk drifted to other things, about life and death in faraway places where neither of them were ever likely to go, about the cogs behind it all, about what would happen if New Zealand got independence or if the Americans had colonised them instead of the British and afterwards they hadn’t solved anything but perhaps they had made their small world a tiny bit larger in the trying. They were both convinced that was a good thing. She said she had to go but she sat in the car out on the street and watched him through the window. Old and slow, he moved about the kitchen alone, making a cup of tea before bed. Only in that distant observation could she truly see the state he was in. Old shaking hands and blue eyes lost in memories. His days left were few. She felt the immeasurable pain coiling in her throat and lungs and when the last lights in the house went out she drove home on those winding coastal roads that seemed no more than goat tracks chiseled into the cliffs. \n", "The yard is overgrown, thick with weeds and based on the smell, either animal carcasses or garbage. Placing a hand over her mouth, Gaelle clicks her way along the broken concrete walkway up to the front door of the house. She pauses at the bottom of the steps, a disgusted look appearing on her face as she looks over the front of the house. More of the peeling paint comes off the side of the building, revealing the last paint color underneath it. \n\n“A week, huh?” Gaelle mutters under her breath. She slowly steps up the bowing, wobbly steps, listening to them groan under her weight. She pauses at the door, lifting her hand to knock before a scowl overtakes her features. Instead, she grasps the doorknob, settling her expression into something notably more neutral as she pushes the door open. \n\nSquealing in protest at being moved, the door isn’t the only thing that marks her arrival. The empty beer cans across the floor rattling and moving add to the ruckus she makes as she opens the door. The reek of the alcohol hits her like a bus, her lip lifting as she breathes as shallowly as possible. A second, slightly more subtle stench reaches her. \n\nGaelle puts her hand over her face, taking in the scent of her perfume instead, despite it irritating her throat. She kicks some of the garbage out of the way as she steps further into the house, leaving the door open behind her. Her eyes adjust slowly to the darkened house. The electricity has obviously been turned off long ago. \n\nStepping carefully through the house, kicking aside the innumerable aluminum cans and various grocery bags of trash, she winds her way towards a familiar hallway. Gaelle glances over where the pictures had been on the wall. She had taken most of those when she had left long, long ago. Coming back hadn’t been an idea she had ever considered. Not until recently. \n\nThe hallway is dim, less cluttered thankfully, but dim, only lit by the light from the windows. There’s the sound of someone snoring coming down the hallway and another disgusted look comes to her face. The snoring stops, the sound of choking replacing it, and then coughing and cursing. Gaelle continues down the hallway, hands balled into fists. \n\nShe ignores the other, open doors along the hallway. A glance into one would take her into too long standing in the filth of the house. She knows the doors by heart though, even though it’s been twenty years since she’s last been in the house. The first door was her older brother’s former room. The second was the common bathroom. The third, across the hallway from the bathroom used to be her bathroom. And then, at the end of the hallway, she pauses at the open door. \n\nThe coughing drags her into the room, step by slow step. Her nails are getting painful as they press into her palms. Any harder and she’s convinced that there will be blood. Laying in the middle of a filthy-looking bed is an older looking man. He’s back to snoring again, his body down to barely more than skin and bones. He looks all right despite the lack of fat on his body but the muscle looks like it’s sagging away. \n\n“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Gaelle mutters. Casting a discerning eye around the room finds it in disrepair, much like the rest of the house. It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming, back when she left. No one left to take care of him, after her mother died, her brother got jailed, and she took off. No one to be his mother in the place of the one that he didn’t give a shit about when he was young. Gaelle looks down her nose at him sleeping in the bed. \n\nOnce, he had been a strong, tall man. Now, he’s nothing but a shell of what he had been. Not that he had been much more than that when she left. Gaelle watches him choke and sputter in his sleep, the alcohol killing his ability to breathe as it depresses his nervous system. She glances to see if the Prozac is still on his side table, where he kept it to take with a morning swig of beer. It’s missing, probably never having been filled for a long time. \n\n“What the fuck?” The words aren’t quite slurred but they’re slow enough that Gaelle is well aware that he’s still drunk. \n\n“Your doctor called me.” Her voice is cold, rather even and emotionless. “Said, no matter how I protested, that I needed to come and see you.” Gaelle runs a finger over the layer of dust on top of one of the dresser drawers. “Funny. You used to bitch about how much dust was in the house. You think after throwing everything of mom’s out, you’d dust.” \n\n“I’m fine.” The snap comes from him. “Doctors don’t know anything.” There’s a short pause, the rustling and banging of beer cans coming from where he’s leaned over the side of the bed. \n\n“So they’re making up alcoholic seizures and you needing a new liver to keep living at the ripe old age of fifty-seven. Good to know.” Gaelle gives a grimacing smile, holding back bitter laughter. “I’m sure that him, with his doctorate, knows much more than a drunkard who just wants to give excuses for allowing himself to keep drinking himself to death.” Gaelle fixes her gaze on him finally, meeting the bloodshot eyes, the one wandering as it tended to when he was trashed. “Did you get that one from your sister?” \n\n“Shut up.” The order lacks venom despite the obvious intent behind it. Gaelle smirks in response before turning her attention away. \n\n“So for my morbid curiosity, I came up here.” She kicks a couple cans out of the way with a boot-sheathed foot. “Good to know that, for your bitching, you have worse ‘clutter’ than she ever did. I think this is garbage instead though.” \n\n“You going to clean it up?” He looks at her expectantly. Gaelle snorts, eyes coming back to rest on him. \n\n“Why would I clean your mess up?” \n\n“My back hurts.” \n\n“Your back has hurt since thirty but that didn’t slow you down in doing work under the table while still getting all your benefits.” Gaelle shakes her head. “It reeks in here. It smells like piss, so I’ll take that to mean that you’re not even walking outside to piss any more. I saw that coming.” Another pause. “It was nice to see you. I’ll be going now and telling your neighbors to make sure you’re alive every couple days.” \n\n“You have to—” \n\n“I don’t have to do shit.” Gaelle cuts him off, eyes narrowed. “Just like you did nothing for me other than drink yourself into a hole. When I needed you to come help me with my car, you were guttered, just like every single night. When I needed someone to talk to, I got snark and bullshit. When we told you that you were in trouble after the first alcoholic seizure, you didn’t listen. I don’t have to do shit for you. I’ll pay for you, like I always have but I will not become your servant. I am not your servant.” \n\nHer father sits, mouth gaping but as she watches, his mind starts to spin around and his back starts to bow, an angry look coming to his face. Gaelle nods, quick to cut him off before he can respond to her. \n\n“As you should be. You haven’t cared for years and I don’t expect you to now.” She turns away from the sallow shell of a man, stepping over the cans and trash littering the house. \n\n“Gaelle! Gaelle, you get back here! I did everything for you, don’t you walk away from me! You owe me!” She shakes her head, body shaking as she simply walks out the front door. She doesn’t bother pulling it closed behind her, uncertain if it would even close or if she could close it with how tightly balled her fists are. \n\nShe forces her way out of the yard, kicking the gate open from where it’s already hanging half open. There’s a few more shouts from behind her as she stops short on the sidewalk, taking a few deep breaths of air. It’s chill on her throat, but much better than the stench of the house. There’s a few more curses and shouts from behind her. \n\nInstead of paying attention to it, she heads across the street, walking by her car, to get to the neighbor’s house. They’re already peering out from behind curtains at her, eyes glancing up behind her, towards her old home where she knows that her father is leering at her from the doorway. She still knocks on the door. There’s a very long silence before the door cracks open very slightly. \n\n“Do I need to call the police?” \n\n“No ma’am.” Gaelle gives her a strained smile. “Unless he starts something else up.” She doesn’t look back behind her at the voice she can hear straining to shout at her. “Could you just keep a good eye on him? See that he’s stumbling around and if he doesn’t stumble for a couple days, call an ambulance.” \n\n“O—Oh.” The woman glances over Gaelle’s shoulder again. “A—All right. He has to get that yard cleaned up.” \n\n“Don’t concern yourself with him. I’ll get someone to do the job.” Gaelle takes a card from a pocket of the long jacket. “Call the number marked ‘P’ there if anything else comes up. Thank you.” Gaelle turns away, finally setting eyes on her old home one more time. Her father is still spitting curses from the doorway. She’s not even sure if what he’s wearing is clothing any more. \n\nGetting into her car, she turns it on and drives away, noticing that the steering wheel is slick on one side. A glance lets her know that she did break the skin, bleeding onto the steering wheel. A scowl appears on her face before she takes a few more deep breaths, turning the radio on. There’s no use being upset about it. He would do what he would do and after twenty-five years, Gaelle had learned that lesson. There would be no changing him after another fifteen. ", "As I drive up my stomach drops more. What would he look like now? The house itself was in bad shape. Paint chipped and peeled all over and the yard was covered in weeds. The driveway was broken up into sharp rock and the light on the porch was completely shattered. There was already a car in the driveway. I never took him for a jeep kind of guy. I climbed out of the car and walk carefully up to the door knocking quickly. Moments later a woman opened the door. 'That explained the car' I thought \"You Adriana?\" She asked.\n\nAt my nod she ushers me inside and tells me to go up the stairs second door on the left. She urged me not to stress him out. I can't help but notice how bare the inside looks. Almost as if no one lives here. I do as told and come to a closed door. Slowly I raise my fist and knock. \"Come in.\" A deep baritone voice called from inside.\n\nIt was now or never. I opened the door and walked in. \"Lillian! You came! Your sister rejected my invite.\" The same voice greeted with a smile.\n\nIn the bed to the far right propped up with his hands in his lap my dad looked at me. His eyes were the only thing that didn't look worn. His skin was sickly pale and his hair was thinking and falling out. \"I'm Adriana\" I told him \"Lillian couldn't stand to see you. She actually begged me not to come, but I had to see you one last time.\"\n\nThe smile dropped from his face and he looked down \"I never could tell you two apart.\"\n\n\"Well, you did leave when we were seven.\"\n\n\"If you didn't care to see me why are you here. Rubbing in your perfect life are we?\"\n\n\"Not exactly I came to tell you all about how much better our lives were without you. How she's about to have a baby of her own with the man she loves and how I'm getting married. How mom was finally happy before her passing. The nights we sat waiting for you to come home. Finding out you had another family hurt. But mom told us to leave it. That you were happier that way, but she cried every night until she met David.\"\n\n\"Addy, I--\"\"don't call me that!\" I interrupted \"You have no right to.\"\n\n\"Adriana, I know I'm a failure of a dad and I know that I messed up I only wanted to make amends before I die.\" He spoke quickly. \"I'm just sorry it took me dying to figure it out.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry too, but I'm not ready to forgive you. I am however willing to forget you after this. I just wanted to make some peace. Twenty-five years is a lot of time to take before talking to someone.\"\n\n\"Sometimes I wonder about if I had stayed. You girls were my life. My new family forgot about me years ago. Left me here to rot. They couldn't forgive me either.\"\n\n\"You never acted like we were. I just had to see what became of the man I used to look up to. You know our step dad David never once thought of us not being his kid, we even have two brothers and a sister. He was there and we are his life.\" \n\nHis heart monitor began to beep loudly. The lady from before appeared in the doorway. \"His stress levels are elevating, I need you to leave.\"\n\nSo I did. As I got back in my car I couldn't help but realize I felt worse. \n" ]	3
Pretty much, describe what an average day is like in your own idea of what utopia is. In other words, what is your idea of the perfect world like? Have fun!	[WP] Describe an average day, from the viewpoint of an average person...in your utopia.	[ "\"It's time to wake up Will,\" a female voice said.\nA 20 some year old boy slowly opened his eyes.\nHe could see a blurry figure.\nHe rubbed his eyes as he felt a hand caress his face.\nHe looked to see a beautiful woman with long black hair smiling at him.\n\"Good morning Will,\" she said with a smile.\nWill sat up and scratched the back of his neck and let out a yawn.\nThe walls slowly rose up as sunlight poured into the room.\nA beautiful spectacle could be seen outside.\nThe woman wrapped her arms around Will and kissed him.\nWill smiled.\n\"Good morning my love,\" Will said as he turned and laid her back down and started to kiss her.\nThe windows darkened and the room glowed a purple tint as the two made love in the early morning.\n\nWill walked into a kitchen area\nFruit was sliced and ready to be eaten.\nA warm cup of tea sat next to a well prepared omelette.\nThe woman walked into the kitchen and sat next to Will as the two ate breakfast together while ambient music played.\n\nAfter breakfast the two went outside into a beautiful garden\nThey walked barefoot through the garden taking in the morning sunlight and making light conversation.\nThey stood at a small bridge and looked at the koi fish swimming below.\nThe two came to a small zen stone garden and began their morning meditation.\nAfter several minutes will opened his eyes and exhaled feeling fully rejuvenated.\nHe looked at the woman who was still in meditation.\nHe quietly moved closer to her and gently kissed her neck.\nShe let out a giggle as he continued to kiss her neck.\nHe playfully tickled her as she rolled to the ground.\nThe two then proceeded back towards the house.\n\nWill began his morning workout.\nHe pumped eight reps and set the bar back on the rack.\nHe was lightly covered in sweat as he sat on the bench.\nHe looked to see the woman performing yoga.\nHe checked his watch and continued working out.\n\nWill walked inside and entered a small shower room.\nWater fell from the ceiling as Will undressed and entered the shower.\nAs he washed his face he got the sense that someone else was near.\nHe rinsed his face to see the woman standing naked outside the shower.\nHe smiled as she entered the shower.\nThe woman started to wash Will and rub his body.\nWill in return washed the woman as he ran his hands up and down her smooth silhouette.\nUpon finishing the two held each other close as the water rained down on them.\n\n(I'll add more later)\n\n", "I awoke with my usual mild hypo-mania and Rose. Her light brown skin pressing against me from head to toe. I felt so happy, I had everything I had ever wanted. I thought to my friends who weren’t accepted, tears began welling in my eyes. Nothing I could do so I forgot about them and relaxed. The mild euphoria returned and I again became mindful of incredible feeling of her body against mine. I could spend the rest of the day here with her in this bed and be happy. \n\nHer breasts and body rubbed against my chest as she awoke, stretching her body across mine. She squeezed me in tight and then moved so we were facing each other. She looked into my eyes, and my mind went blank as I was transfixed. She had this other worldliness about her that would fascinate me until the day I died.\n\n\"You shouldn't look into my eyes like that or you might fall in love.\" Her voiced flowed so smoothly and pleasantly I had a hard time picking up the words.\n\n\"I'm afraid it's too late I loved you since the moment we met. Well really I've loved you since the birth of the universe at the moment our souls first met. It’s just a bit hard to remember with this thing.” I knocked on my head.\n\n“It’s okay I still love that big skull of yours.” She moved off the bed slowly getting dressed. Halfway dressed she looked to me. ”Last one to the cafeteria is a rotten egg!” She began hurriedly putting on clothes. I leapt off the bed trying to catch up without hope as she was already almost dressed. She slowly sauntered towards the exit. I pulled her in close and gave her a deep kiss. She returned with an even deeper kiss and then pushed me away. She danced towards the exit, glee lighting up her face.\n\nI caught up with her in the cafeteria and pulled her in tight. “You know I wouldn’t let you get far away.”\n“You better not, Pete over there was looking at me mighty hard before you caught up.”\n\n“He wouldn’t, he knows better.”\n\n“What are you going to have babe?”\n\n“Let’s go over to the real cooks today.” My mind again drifted to my friends outside the haven. It seemed to be drifting to them more lately.\n\n“We walked past the machines cooks to the human cooks.”\n\n“Hey Thomas, we thought you had forgot about us. The boss prefers eating meals cooked by the machines.” We all looked to Rose inciting a guilty look in her.\n\n“What can I say, I grew up with the machine cooks its nothing against you, and your cooking is absolutely fantastic Pierre. It’s just habits that’s all.” \n\n“The usual for the both of you?”\n\n“That’s for good for me.” We looked to Rose. “The usual for me too.”\n\n“So how are things with the old lady Pierre?”\n\n“She’s won’t talk to me. We were watching a beach volleyball match and she insists my eyes were transfixed on one of the players.”\n\n“Dourine?”\n\nPierre looked at me in shock. I looked down to Roses eyes to see her fury! \n\n“I just meant, you know, I had heard you mention something about her before and I was making assumptions that’s all.” Rose walked away fuming and took a seat next to her friends and they moved close enough together to make sure I didn’t have a seat.“Well looks like were both in the doghouse my friend. He poured a couple glasses of sparkling cider. Cheers.” Our glasses collided and I shook my head.\n\n“Get her some roses from deep within the forest that will cheer her up.” We bumped fist and enjoyed the cider. \nI grabbed her meal and brought it to the table with her and her friends. “The chef told me to bring this meal to the most beautiful girl in the world.” I placed the meal before her and a glass of orange juice above it. She looked at me and I knew everything was forgiven. But for now she would chat with her friends.\n\nI moved towards the kitchen. “Thanks everyone! Pierre racquetball tonight? Yes of course I’m always ready to teach you a thing or two.”\n\n“Glad to see your feeling confident, you will need it. Alright see you later.”\n\nI carried my food to the table with my friends and coworkers. \n", "I thought I had gone crazy. \n\nI took another swig from the lightening bottle of Jameson whiskey in my right hand. \n\nAn overwhelming sense of calmness filled me as did an illusion that I was thinking more clearly. \n\nIt dawned on me in that moment that I could never find true happiness. \n\n\"happiness is a state of mind that eludes me Watson \" I said aloud to my dog. \n\n\nMy dog looked at me, his ears perking up. His ears always perked up when I would speak. \n\n\" No matter where I go or what I do to try to attain it, i believe it to be a myth or an enigma that will forever be just outside my grasp. \"\n\nWatson looked out towards the edge of the seaside seemingly bored and incapable of comprehending what it was I was trying to say.. \n\nHe curled up and fell asleep. \n\nI feel like a state of happiness occurs somewhere within your soul. \nEven in the midst of my ideal utopia, it is not enough, I still feel empty inside. \nI take another swig from my bottle of whiskey which comes from a seemingly endless supply. \n\nYou can have everything you think you need or want in the world but in the end what is the point of it all? \n\nI stare out at the ocean and the falling sunset in what a couple of weeks ago had been my ideal utopia. \nBut lately, all I had felt after the novelty had worn off was unhappiness. \n\nIs constant dissatisfaction with whatever ones current situation is ever cureable? Is dissatisfaction truly a symptom of ambition? \n\nIs true happiness an illusion? \n\nI stared down at my sleeping companion Watson. I stared out at the falling sunset across the landscape of the island. I glanced at the burning campfire and the endless supplies of everything i thought i would ever need in my life to be happy. \n\nMaybe true happiness is what I have right now? I've never been one to realize how good things are until they've already passed. Moments of bliss always seem to hit me years later when Im feeling in a nostalgic state. Rembering the good old days... \n I take another swig of whiskey and know in a couple of minutes i will probably pass out on equal parts drunkness and equal parts sadness. \nPart of me hopes, that my eyes will never re open........ \n\n\n\n\n\n", "Sunday. A day like every other fuckin day. \nI get up and eat whatever I want. I mean, there is just everything in my fridge nowadays. And by everything, I mean everything. Literally. Whatever I want, in front of my nose. \nI turn on the radio and listen to whatever I want. I mean, there is just everything on the radio nowadays. And by everything, again I quite literally mean everything. Whatever I want, in front of my ears. \nI go to the bathroom. Then I remember I don't have one. I haven't had to pee in at least 10 years. Still wasn't used to it. What would you need a bathroom for, if you don't have to brush teeth or wash your face and body? \nWant to know what I missed the most from way back then? When everything wasn't \"perfect\"? Call me silly, but I really miss cleaning my room. I always hated that, when I had to do it. I haven't seen a broom in like what, a decade? Somehow I just miss it nowadays. \nWell, whatever. I get out of the house and greet my neighbours. Everyone is smiling, they all seem to be happy. \nI fucking hate them. All of them. With their fucking smiles and happiness. In the beginning this perfect life seemed, well... perfect. Well here I am. Bored as fuck. Everyone looks fucking great. You would've called those people models or movie stars when I was young. \nDamn. Movies. They got boring REAL quick. In every fucking new movie there is a huge plottwist. I hate plottwists. Funnily enough they aren't so stunning anymore, at least after you've seen hundreds of them. I miss the old movies. I miss fucking Jean-Claude van Damme. Or Silvester Stallone. Sure they were nowhere close to perfect actors, but at least they had a distinct personality. \nWorst thing is, this is what I do all day. I walk down the street, look at those happy, beautiful faces and my hate burns like a effin liquorstore when you throw a torch in it. \nDon't get me wrong, I don't hate those people. Well, I DO hate them. But it's not their fault. It's this fuckin utopia we've been living in for over 10 years. I am just so pissed off at the fuckin ignorant moron, that thought of all this. Should I ever met him, I promise, I will beat the living crap out of him. \nIt may sound silly to you, but anyways: \nFuck Utopia.", "\"You dropped this.\"\n\nHe waved a paper note at the girl passing by his bench. The odds of him noticing it slip from her purse were surprising, considering the view. A pond stretched beyond this impossible distance, framed in willow branches and sunset. The world rested on a reflection uninterrupted. The effect of this image stretched the imagination itself in equal, soothing measures.\n\nAll that lay before him, and a piece of paper broke the reverie. However, he was not disturbed by this moment. This was something he'd been waiting for. \n\nThe girl turned around and noticed him holding a slip, grinning. She approached the occupied bench and offered a hand. He placed it in her palm without a second look. The message was not important to him.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said. \n\nThe boy only beamed in response. It was a look one would expect to see peeking through a school bus window in the fall. Too excited to let the drive be just a trip, the young face would capture whoever or whatever could be part of that early morning. However, it was never just the smile you noticed. The journey was what made that child wonder about you. Whether you were commuting to work or sitting in an outdoor cafe, your presence was like a word in a book.\n\nWords that coursed and weaved through an adventure all the boy's own. \n\nHis beaming was infectious, and the girl's mouth curved to a smile. She resumed her walk past the bench, dropping the note back in her purse where it always belonged.\n\nWhenever the boy sat at this bench as the sun was setting, within an hour of the dark speckled span quilting the pond in small lights, the girl would pass by and drop that note. It was for him. They'd be the most important words in his life.\n\nHe could respond anytime, but there was no rush. He wanted to take his time. This was where his favorite chapter started after all.\n" ]	5
WP inspired by https://www.reddit.com/r/whowouldwin/comments/2i9d1x/the_army_of_mordor_took_a_wrong_turn_and_goes_up/ Specifically by u/DistaNVDT " People often bring up that the monsters will absolutely wreck shit and scare them senseless. But look at it like this, there is no way in hell that, after scouting their foe, the armies would be briefed saying "So yeah we're up against these X and Y alien creatures with this size and these capabilities". Romans have a rich culture with lots of mythos, it's guaranteed that they can find similarities between every unit in Mordor's legion, and some monster from their mythology. Now what will be the Legion's morale you think, if the info they get fed isn't "we have to fight aliens" but rather "X evil god has sent his legions, we have to stop him." There are no Trolls or Wargs, there are Cyclopses and Cerberi (?). The legions are prepairing to fight the fight that their heroes in the legends have fought. They fight for X god against the armies of Y god, facing Z mythological creatures. Their heroes have vanquished creatures like these in the stories of old (so to speak). In their minds, they're not only fighting for their lives, they're fighting with the promise that victory will bring them immortality through legends written about them." p.s. Will also accept any pre-war speech to inspire the populace! Also doesn't have to be Caesar but any leader inspiring his troops.	[WP] The army of Mordor has been transported to our world at the height of the Roman Empire. Rome has assembled its army and it's Caesar is about to give his pre-battle speech.	[ "Men of Rome, today is far from normal. The armies of chaos march against us, seeking to destroy us with an unnatural swarm. Hades himself leads armies of creatures unseen to conquer Rome, and brings with him magic and weapons unknown. We stand at fifty legions of five thousand brave men. No host of such a size has been seen in the world, and yet we are dwarfed -- the enemy is infinite.\n\nBut one thing remains the same: Here we stand, and here we will stay. We brave many, so few in the face of Hades. We stand defiant, unyielding, and we know that they will not break us. They will launch the greatest of attacks, and we will repel it. They will crash endlessly against our shields like the wave against the cliff, and achieve less, for we are Romans, and we are unbreakable.\n\n**\n\nI'd try translating this, but my Latin is bad enough that I'd just make a fool of myself.", "Sonnet Number Twenty-Eight\n\nFriends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears: \nThe northerns are uglier than I recall \nBut still will bleed when after all these years \nI've spent away from war in Roman hall. \n\nIt's lucky chance for me, they came just when \nMy former friends were plotting treason acts, \nWhen hellsent messenger, these orcs burst in \nAnd foiled plot of murderous attacks.\n\nWe stand before a foreign, ill-trained force, \nAnd should lay waste to legions of these orcs \nWith easy murder, justly given, but of course, \nThe hellish beasts deserving no remorse. \n\nAs Caesar sets his sights on Middle-Earth \nHe dreams of conquest, nations giving birth.", "(I apologize in advance for this lacking a serious tone, but this is my legitimate idea of how that would go down)\n\nRoman's! \n\nI don't know what the fuck those things are, and the odds are against us! I mean, the barbarian tribes of Britannia staved us off, so these bastards might damn well have a chance at razing Rome! \n\nBut, hold fast, and keep your shields high! For I shall be with you, and we will make them regret this aggression! We may die, or we may live, but the fact remains: they will never forget THIS TRAVESTY! \n\nMounts his horse and rides away, leaving his armies in disarray", "Accidentally posted it before it was finished. Anyway, here it is, although, it's not a speech.\n____\nThe mortal men clashed against the Legion of the Damned sent down by the Gods themselves. Steel swords crossed paths with the rounded blunt weapons of the enemy. The distinct shouting of Roman commanders over the grueling shriek of the Damned was a constant reminder to the soldiers that their world was continually fighting against the horde that threatened to take it away from them.\n\n\"For Rome and for glory, legionnaires!\" I shouted over the shriek of one of the Damned, as I plunged my sword deep into the being's heart, a dark black blood sprouting from it as I did. \"Do not stop fighting!\"\n\nMy Legion was the first to clash into the Legion of the Damned, and our fight was far from over. But we had brought over much of the active Legions in order to support us, with this Legion able to defeat the entire barbarian hordes, Caesar was careful not to underestimate them.\n\nAnd underestimate them, he did not. There were thousands of them, mortal men including, and since they arrived they had been recruiting mortal men and women to join their crusade. The slippery tongue of Fraus, daughter of Nox, was sure to have helped the Damned in their ways of gaining followers. Nox was declaring a war on humanity, and even Jupiter himself could not fight against her and siblings.\n\nWe mortals fought on our own now, without the assistance of the Gods, and without the heroes that we came to love. We only had each other and as the Damned horde took our Legions by surprise, we were forced into a battle we were not prepared for.\n\nI was one of the first in the fight, protecting my small contubernium of Legionnaires as our Legion was slaughtered in battle around us. The Damned's surprise attack which took out much of our rearguard and our Legatus was planned perfectly. They knew exactly where to hit us, and exactly when, the foresight of the Gods being given to them, another fact that we were forsaken by the immortals we had worshipped.\n\nWe were being slaughtered, by the thousands, against little more than demons with swords and shields. The way they broke our lines, worse than the barbarian hordes of the North, and opening gaps between lines with ease. I did not know how, but they were doing all too well.\n\nI could see their leader as well, an enormous Damned that wore an armor shroud and metal helm that covered much of its face. And their Demons from the sky that their leaders rode on, the shrieks and claws crushing both our heads and our bodies in swift movements. They were coming, for each of us, shrieking into the sky as they swept into the Legion and took out dozens in one run. Flying demons, I thought of them, what God gave them this?\n\n\"Vel! We are being slaughtered!\" My legionnaire yelled to me as he struck down another Damned with a blow to the head.\n\nI knew that, I thought, but I knew we could not abandon our other legionnaires. But I saw them routing, hundreds of them, throwing down their weapons and forsaking the rest of us to the Damned. They were running.\n\n\"We must go to the forest! Regroup!\"\n\nI shook my head, there would be no regrouping, but we could survive in the trees and in the land. So long as we stuck to what we know. We could get back to Rome and warn Caesar of the terrible battle that had taken place. Six Legions, slaughtered in a day. I had already lost two from my conubernium, I would not lose anymore and I would give Caesar the greatest gift of all, the advice to stay back and defend his Empire.\n\n\"To the forest!\" I shouted as I swung my sword at another Damned, gutting it and its entrails falling to the grass and dirt. \"We must warn the Caesar!\"\n\nI pulled up one of my Legionnaires, Secendus, and pushed him towards the forest, \"We will get home, I promise you that!\" I grabbed the five of them, making sure they were each with me as we ran to the forest.\n\nAnd run we did. As fast and as hard as we could, carrying our weapons as the forests trees disguised us and the shrieking of the Damned disappeared into the wind. I could still hear the screams of my fellow Romans, being slaughtered by the Damned which seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. \n_____\nWe ran for what seemed like hours until the screams subsided, but the scent of the Damned remained. And it was in that moment that I had realized we had been running North the whole time, rather than South, towards Rome. I knew in that moment that we would be trapped in Germania, with a Legion of the Damned between us and home.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Opius asked me, as we helped Tiberius traverse the forest with his wound. \n\n\"We must go to Rome.\"\n\n\"Rome? It is on the other side of the world. The Damned will already be on their way.\"\n\n\"Then we move quickly.\"\n\n\"Vel, we will not make it.\"\n\n\"We must!\" I shouted at Opius, making my decision final. \"We will not desert her!\"\n\n\"He is right, Opius, we must go back.\"\n\nOpius shook his head, \"We will die.\"\n\n\"Then we will die for Rome,\" I nodded, \"for glory and for mortal men.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" Tiberius said, \"I could die for that.\"\n\nThen we heard the shriek again, the noise that the flying Demon made as it crushed dozens of our brothers. I looked to the sky and could see it, the black outline of a large creature with a long neck, and the Rider on top. The Rider that led its Damned to attack our Legion and destroy them. \n\nI ducked down, \"We may be stuck behind enemy lines, but we must try and fight to Rome.\"\n\n\"I will need time to heal.\"\n\nThe shriek persisted.\n\n\"We don't have any time.\"\n________\nI really enjoyed this prompt! I hope you enjoyed this story and you can check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work!", "(Note - I'm not sure of the difference between Greek vs Roman mythology but i'll just use Greek since I'm relatively sure they absorbed a lot of it)\n\nSoldiers of Rome!\n\nEverything you have heard is true. Hades himself has emerged from the underwold leading an army the likes of which we have never faced.Hades has decided that the time has come for him to extend his rule beyond the underworld and has come to challenge the Roman Empire for dominion.\nHe comes with a horde twisted men in brutal armor who bellow, clash, and clamor. But, they are undisciplined. They shall break upon our shield wall like a crashing wave upon a cliff and WE WILL STAND TOGETHER. UNITED. UNBROKEN. UNYIELDING.\n\nHe comes with monsters straight from legend. He comes with Gigantes, terrible, hulking, and huge carrying massive warclubs are coming with their desire for human flesh. He comes with hell hounds, fast, ferocious, and thirsting for blood. His armies are led by wraiths draped in black clothing and riding on dragons, the very grandchildren of Gaia herself. \n\nBut we are ROMANS. We who have been raised from birth on the stories of Jason and the Argonauts who slew the giants on Doliones. We who have dreamed of being Hercules, fighting the Lernaean Hydra and defeating Cerberus the hound of Hades. \n\nToday we will fulfill our dreams. We will claim our birthright and stand as equals with the heroes of old. Hades will find that on this day he faces not one Hercules, but THOUSANDS. \n\nTHAT ON THIS DAY WE WILL BECOME THE LEGENDS.", "Senators, commoners, soldiers...Whether by way of the blade, or by decay of the flesh, we will all die. It is the end that the Fates write for all of us.\n\nIn the ancient times, mortals fought against horrible writhing beasts. When faced with the most ruthless and hideous evils that threatened the lives of their families and their nations, these men fought.\n\nAnd through victory or tragedy, these mere mortals drove those evils back to the darkness of Tartarus. \n\nI come before you today, because these evils had not the decency to stay in the abyss our ancestors cast them into. They have returned writhed in flames and decay, just as our legends have told us before. They have come once again to extinguish mankind from the world.\n\nI stand before you today to remind you that every man dies...ONLY HEROES LIVE FOREVER.\n\nMan may fade, killed by any number of weapon or illness. Such is the ephemeral nature of flesh and blood. But a hero lives on, made of legend and praise...more permanent than the face of mountains\n\nDo you not remember the legends of Achilles, of Odysseus, of Hercules. These heroes were born mortal, able to live and die, but through their struggles they became so much more. They have become heroes as alive today in our hearts as the day they were born.\n\nLet me ask you now what you will choose. Will you flee? I will not stop you, because there is nowhere you can run. Will you surrender? What mercy will these beasts show you or your loved ones. Or will you FIGHT? Will you, a mere soldier, fight for you family and country? Will you stand against evil in all its hated forms? \n\nIf you will join me, then I swear that even if our fragile bodies die, we will live on FOREVER. We the Roman Legion will live on in the hearts and minds of not just Rome, but the heart of every man, woman, and child who hears our tale. And I promise, everyone will hear our tale...\n\nSo, I say CHARGE into the face of evil, and let everybody KNOW OUR NAMES...SO SAYS CAESER!*\n", "Romans!\n\nHades has brought forth his legions. The damned ancestors of our enemies stand here before us to challenge us in battle. But have faith, you who Jupiter blessed! For today we will fight with great power, because Jupiter has defeated Pluto and seized authority over the sky. We used to sing countless songs of our ancestors, who did battle with horrible monsters; if we fight with valor, they will sing many songs about us! Fight, fight with great courage, for your country and way of life!\n\n----------------Latin below----------------------\n\nRomani!\n\nPluto peperit legiones; maiores damnati hostum nostrorum ut nos pugnant stant. Sed animus cepit, cui Iuppiter benedixit! Hodie, hodie pugnabimus magna cum potestate, quoniam Iuppiter Plutonem superavit et coronam caelorum cepit. De maioribus nostris, qui contra monstra horrenda pugnant, multa carmina cantabamus; si pugnamus con animis, multa carmina nobis cantabunt! Pugnate, magna pugnate cum virtutis, pro patria moresque!" ]	7
EDIT : Thanks for the excellent responses! A round of applause for everyone.	[WP] A love story that starts and ends in 7 days. From strangers to strangers.	[ "I suppose it was her beauty that first caught my eye. The flawless skin, beautiful hair, striking eyes, she knew I had eyes for her from the start. Letting out a light chuckle as she saw the cigarette in my mouth go limp as my eyes followed her. Already I could tell she wasn't like the other girls around here, they'd of just ignored me and been on their way. \n\nI stood at the same place the next day, hoping she would be at the same place again. Sure enough she walked by again looking just as radiant. I clumsily tried a greeting only for her to laugh and answer me in accented English. It wasn't flawless but it was certainly stronger than my smattering of phrases. We walked around, I learned that she took care of her mother and younger sister and brother. She invited me to dinner and I accepted, a homecooked meal sounded almost as appealing as spending an evening with her. \n\nShe told me I shouldn't bring anything, but what fun was having the connections to get anything you wanted if you couldn't use it to show off to pretty girls. Dinner went wonderfully, her mother was an amazing cook. Didn't even recognize most of the foods, and it was then I suddenly felt like I was in a fairy tale. The old me in America didn't try new things, do anything interesting. Now here I was in a foreign land, with an exotic woman, trying foods that nobody in my family had ever eaten. \n\nHer siblings were shy at first but after a while I could barely pay any attention to her with them looking through my things. The little brother looked familiar almost, probably saw him running around town while I was on duty. Her mother was a quiet, but beautiful woman. Didn-t have to ask where the father was, all too common a story these days.\n\nThe next two days she took me around to some of the sites to see. A lot of the locals looked at me with distrust, I guess these were the kind of places they didn't expect to see a white man. I tried my best to embrace the culture but it was difficult to look at the sites instead of her.\n\nThe next day I invite her to a restaraunt that's popular with the guys. I drop off some groceries when I pick her up. The evening goes well, some of the guys come up to introduce themselves and she charmed them. We were drinking, but she limited herself. I had more but limited myself to avoid being a fool. She gives me a kiss on the cheek when I drop her off at her home. I ask if tomorrow she can look at some stuff I'd acquired over the last few years.\n\nStupid I chided myself, so stupid. What good possibly could've come from showing her that stuff. I told her in the battle for the canal I'd killed an officer and had taken a few pf his things. She looked at me with disdain and I tried to backpedal, tried to tell her I wanted to find his family and return his effects. Tears sprang from her eyes when I pulled out the blade and journal. She lightly touched the blade and then used the same hand to slap me. She pointed at the blade \"my brother's\" she said. I suddenly wished my claim about wanting to return it had been genuine at the start. Maybe she'd of stayed, understood that in war people died. I feel like she could sense my dishonesty though, I'd taken those things as trophies to show off when I went back to the states.\n\nShe left me then and returned home. Wouldn't see me, I couldn't tell what her mom was saying when she kept me out but I got the hint. The next evening I went back for the last time. Her little brother was playing in the garden and I realized why he seemed familiar. I set his slain older brother's things on their doorstep and left. I didn't deserve to get the girl because heroes got the girl, and I was no hero. Maybe someday I could be though, and maybe giving that man's family back as much of their son as I could was a decent start.", "I have a thing for chocolate. Chocolate cake. Chocolate cookies. Chocolate chocolate (yes, that's a thing). From the day I laid eyes on the chocolate twisted chocolate chocolate, I knew that I was in love. I would get paid on friday, only three days away, and then we would be together at last. A match made in heaven.\n\nEvery day, I passed by the chocolate twist. I would get all light headed, and butterflies would flood my stomach. I could see myself holding and cherishing my new love. Friday came and it was mine! We had started off strangers, but now we were finally together! I made the tenacious relationship last; nibbling on it at different hours of the day.\n\nBefore I knew what had happened, it was over. Only a couple days of intense love and satisfaction; in the end, flushed down a toilet like none of it had ever taken place. I knew nothing could compare. No love could ever be as intense, and I would never - wait, they have a chocolate chocolate twisted chocolate chocolate?\n\nOnly three more days until I get paid.", "Day 1\n\n\"Ugly.\" swipe left\n\n\"Fat\" swipe left\n\n...I guess she's alright. swipe right\n\n\"There's so many filters on this picture I can't even see her.\" swipe left\n\nI've been on tinder for about a week now, but I haven't matched with anyone willing to hook up with me yet. I've got about 6 matches and none of them have gone the way I hoped. Either the chick is uninterested, simply doesn't respond, or a just a plain freak. I was just about to give up when...\n\n\"Jennifer...Hmm.. this ones kinda cute.\" It was a side profile of a girl looking off into the distance. A cute round nose, tan, eyes half closed. Her medium length hair tucked behind her ear. Her mouth left sultrily open. expand profile \n\n21, National Institute of Fashion Technology. I was slightly disappointed she didn't write a description but I've noticed its pretty common for girls around here. On the other hand, she studies fashion and i couldn't figure out why that was a merit but it was. My finger swept across the screen slowly. My eyes moving from her eyes in the first photo to her eyes in the next. \n\nHer eyes were wide open and she was making a fish face. I pushed out some air from my nostrils as a slight smile slowly crept to my face. I did not expect such a contrast from her last picture.\n\"So she's not afraid to be a goof. Thats pretty awesome.\" I noticed the filter she applied really made her cheekbones pop, but I'm sure that they'd be beautiful without one. I also couldn't help noticing that she has some curves going on for her. I had to see what else she put up. \n\nHer next picture was a four panel photoshoot with her friend that practically every girl in the world has taken with her bff. The first panel she's just smiling. But damn, her smile, its so... pure. She gives off an aura of caring energy. In the next she's pouting, which normally looks so damn dumb but she pulls it off. In fact, its pretty hot. At this point I realized that I've already made up my mind about swiping right. I couldn't get enough though, I had to check her last picture and boy was I glad I made that decision!\n\nIt was a beautiful picture of a forest and her walking away. A keen eye captured the beauty of the wilderness certainly... but no one could deny the focus of that photo was that badonkadonk. The crazy thing was it looked like a candid photo, she clearly wasn't being a hoochie mama. \n\nswipe right\n\nI spent the next few minutes looking at my profile. Updating my description, making sure the best pictures were chosen, made sure it was the best it could be.God damn I'm beautiful.\nBut honestly, it was mostly just frivolous nonsense in the end. I knew all i could do was hope. I spent the next 24 hours checking my tinder every 15 minutes. \n\nDay 2\n\nCongratulations! its a match!\n\n\"Alright!\" I fist-pumped silently to celebrate my little victory. I knew that getting a match meant that she was at least a little interested, but I still had a long way to go. I opened up the chat window. \nI wrote something, but really it might as well have been nothing. \n...\n...\nI opened her profile again. \n...\n...\nI closed it. \n...\n...\n\"I've spent too much time on this.\" I decided to go with my standard \"Hey! :) what's up?\" I was pretty much betting on her having something interesting to say. I put it away. Then I put my phone away. (haha just kidding).I got a notification one minute later. That was quick?\n\n\"hey\"\n\"just got a new puppy, busy watching everything he does haha\"\n\nAlright this is a good start I thought. She seems way more open than other girls already and it is interesting to me. I do love dogs. We talked for a bit about her new pug. I told her about how high maintenance my turtle is. It'll come across as funny and it'll show her that I think that animals are people too. Chicks dig that. Of course it worked. I AM the best after all. \n\nWe have some light conversation, talk about which bars we frequent and what colleges we're going to. We had such a good conversation, I'm afraid of ruining it now. Plus it'll show her I'm not over eager. I should tell her I've got to go. Thats mysterious, chicks dig that right? No... what if she thinks I'm just not interested. Can't have that. Hmm... Okay I'll tell her I've got to babysit my niece. Yes! Thats it! That way she knows I'm a sensitive responsible person and not some creepy guy on tinder. \n\n\"Got to babysit my niece\"\n\"ttyl\"\n\nI waited for her response.\n\n\"Aww!\"\n\"Alright, hope you hit me up soon ;)\" \n\nDamn. That could not have gone better. I smiled to myself. That night I laid in bed and fantasized about what she could be like for a long time. I didn't realize when i fell asleep because I dreamt about the same thing. \n\nDay 3\n\nA girl like this, I'm sure she has a thousand matches. Alright, gotta think of a better way to say hello. Hmm...\n\"Hey! Remember me?\"\nI think she's smart enough to understand the obvious sarcasm \n\n\"haha how could I forget you ? How's your turtle ;)?\n\nAlright! She hasn't forgotten me. Maybe she isn't as unobtainable as I first thought... Anyways, I think its time to try a sexual joke. \n\n\"Well, he could use a shell to crawl into ;)\"\n\"Or did you mean my literal turtle? :P\" \n\nHaha! Sometimes I even crack myself up. I'm so fucking awesome.\n\nHours pass by. Crap, did i just fuck up? Man I'm such an idiot. Fuck. Maybe she just didn't see it? Should I send another message? Ugh. No. I don't know... Maybe I should apologize? I'm so dumb. I was just about to craft an apology when...\n\n\"hahaha good one!\"\n\"My shell could use some company actually ;)\"\n\nI nearly jizzed myself. \n\n\"haha sooooo you free tomorrow?\"\n\nA quick reply followed.\n\n\"for you... yeah ;)\"\n\"Bring your turtle\"\n\nI took a cold shower. Don't judge me its been a while okay?!\nAs I lay in bed that night cold as fuck, I thought to myself. Why am I so obsessed with this girl? I just downloaded this lame app to hook up with easy bitches. Anyways, lets see how this goes.\n\nDay 4\n\nHit the gym extra early in the morning. Gotta get that pump yo!As I thought this I suddenly realized, man I can be such a douche sometimes. Jumped into the shower, used my special conditioner, did some manscaping. Jumped out and got dressed. I looked myself in the eye in the mirror \n\"You're the best around!\" I sang. I looked at my watch and realized i was running late. Crap.\n\nI sprinted off to the bar we agreed to see each other. Its such a genius location. If she's catfishing me I can just have a beer and leave, if we get along well then the alcohol in her system is probably only going to make things more interesting. \n\nI saw her sitting there on the bar stool, beer mug in hand. Something about her, she just seemed so...alone and fragile and it made her seem so beautiful. My palms started to sweat. I didn't feel nervous until just now. Suddenly I was terrified, but my body couldn't stop moving towards her. Somewhere along my approach which seemed to be in slow motion from my perspective, our eyes met. The din of the entire pub seemed to slowly soften until I was within earshot. \n\n\"Hey, Jennifer?\" I asked, but i knew.\n\"...Hi\" she said while I saw a smile slowly form on her face. Although she did seem slightly confused for a second. The whole thing was so surreal. It felt like neither of us broke our eye contact the whole conversation, not even blinking. \n\nDay 5\n\nI woke up to a find myself alone and slightly hungover. My first thought was \"How fucking awesome am I?\" I looked beside me to look at my beautiful Jen, only to find myself confused. \n\nI was alone. \n\nI got up quietly, thinking she was just in the bathroom getting ready. I couldn't find a sign of her even being there. She was gone as easily as she came. I was dumbfounded. Isn't it usually the guy that leaves without saying a word? I went back to bed. Laid there for a while stared at the ceiling fan spin. Maybe I just wasn't good enough in bed for her? Crap. I knew I couldn't keep a girl like that... Idiot! What was I thinking?!\n\nI looked on tinder and realized that she unmatched me. There was no way I could ever see her again...\n\nNo! I had to see her again! I went to her college campus. I would search every classroom if I had to. \n\nDay 6\n\nI searched every way I could. I just couldn't find Jennifer. It was hopeless.\n\nDay 7\n \nsigh swipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nNo one could compare to Jennifer\nswipe left\n...Wait. What?...It was a side profile of a girl looking off into the distance. It was Jennifer. Only, on her profile it said her name was Jessica now. It was an identical profile otherwise. You better believe I swiped right so hard. I knew she wouldn't match with me though. I'm sure she's had enough.\n\nCongratulations! its a match!\n\nWhat is going on?! I had to figure this shit out. I was about to send a message when I get one from her...\n\n\"I'm sorry\"\n\"I'm not who you think I am\"\n\"Goodbye\"\nunmatched\n\nI never saw her again. From strangers to strangers. ______________________________________________________________________________________\n\nIt's my first attempt at a prompt... be gentle!But I'd love the constructive criticism. If I get enough positive feedback maybe I'll write it from the girl's perspective. \n\nI did write this in a bit of a hurry though, I'm about to go on my first real life tinder date hahaha.Wish me luck!\n\nedit some formatting\n\n\n", "thursday.\n\ni’ve been watching you dance with yourself for five minutes now.\n\ndelicate footstep by delicate footstep, as if you’re en pointe, moving just a little closer to me each time.\n\nyou were curled into the far wall like a vine seeking comfort but you’re reaching outwards now.\n\npoor dear. you’ve mistaken my feeble shawl of fireflies for the sun. \n\ni decide to put you out of your misery.\n\nmy path to you is not a dance. it is the confident slice of a knife. mortals part before me. i stand before you. \n\nyou see beautiful, you say beautiful, and then you retreat to the safety of your wall.\n\nmy curiosity is piqued. i pursue.\n\nand i find that you are indeed quite extraordinary. you see the sun in an accident of biology. you feel cold light and think it warm.\n\nis it that you cannot withstand the brilliance of sunlight or have you just never seen it?\n\ni want answers. you want to feel the sun on your skin.\n\nwe shouldn’t find it too difficult to reach an agreement.\n\n-:-\n\nfriday.\n\nyou swear your skin is covered in burns but you laugh like they don’t hurt.\n\nmy shawl of fireflies has fled me. i can’t comprehend what you see anymore.\n\nmaybe it’s you that made me radiant. maybe you poured affection into my chest and watched it flow through my bloodstream and marveled at your own creation. i’d worry, but it feels too good to worry about.\n\nand then we leave the bed for the real world and i can feel myself dimming with each second that ticks by.\n\ni could grow addicted to this, i think, and where i should feel fear i feel excitement.\n\n-:-\n\nsaturday.\n\ni can’t get your hands on my skin fast enough. you caress my face and reach into my chest and mumble beautiful into my ear. your hands slip under my skin and reach for my heart and i’m not \n\nready for what happens next. the tip of your finger grazes my \n\naorta and i scream \n\nbecause i\n\nfeel destruction. i feel unstable power till my \n\nfingertips, i feel chunks being ripped \n\noff of the edges of my mind,\n\nand then it stops.\n\nsilence descends on us.\n\nyou’ve retreated to your familiar wall again, but it’s okay. i understand.\n\nyou touched your sun and burned it. burned it. \n\nand that makes me wonder.\n\nwas it you who drove my fireflies away?\n\ndid you see yourself reflected in me?\n\nwho is the sun?\n\n-:-\n\nsunday.\n\nyou spend the day curled up by my side.\n\ni don’t know if it really is warmer where you’re leaning on me or if i’m just imagining it.\n\nyou call me your lifeline. but the ghost of my own scream echoes in my ears and i remember tasting destruction.\n\nyou call me your lifeline. but i don’t feel the ground under my feet anymore and my fireflies won’t come back to me.\n\nyou call me your lifeline. but i think that maybe i’m the one that needs saving.\n\n-:-\n\nmonday.\n\nthere is thick air between us. \n\nwe don’t touch\n\nnot even once. \n\neven if we spoke, i doubt the sound would carry far enough to be heard.\n\nmy hands begin to feel cold. i touch them to my face and feel no difference.\n\nmaybe this is how they’ve always been.\n\na firefly lands on my fingertip at sunset.\n\n-:-\n\ntuesday,\n\nyou reach out like a shy tendril, but this time, i’m not fooled.\n\nyou touch me with one tentative fingertip and my lone firefly flees me and i scream.\n\ni am tired of your unfamiliar heat. i want my cold hands back. i want my fireflies back. i. want. you. gone.\n\nbut you don’t listen. you don’t leave. you love me.\n\ni scream some more.\n\nwhy? why? because YOUR LOVE IS AN AVALANCHE. YOUR LOVE IS THE PLAINTIVE SOUND OF SHATTERED GLASS BEING SWEPT AWAY. YOUR LOVE IS AS DEAD AS FIRE AND JUST AS DESTRUCTIVE. \n\nI WANT NO PART IN IT.\n\n-:-\n\nwednesday.\n\nyou stand on my doorstep like you’re still hoping i’ll let you stay. \n\nfor a moment, i think i just might.\n\nbut i hurt.\n\ni have been stripped to my bones. my knees clank against each other when i stand. what’s left of my brain rattles hollowly in my skull when i think. my eyes are starting to fail me.\n\ni want to feel whole again.\n\ni close the door on you and wait for my light to return to me.\n\n-:-\n\n(also on my tumblr [here](http://http://lullabies-like-distant-screams.tumblr.com/tagged/seven-day-love-story))", "The first day was magnificent.\nI could see her everywhere I went.\nIn my coffee, in my shoes,\nIn the t.v while watching news.\nShe had me acting like a kid.\nThough I didn't know her name.\n\nOn the second day, a slow approach.\nI felt I had to make the most.\nI looked at her and she at me.\nWe both saw the spark quite instantly.\nI said, \"Hello, my name is Sid\"\nand thus I lit the flame.\n\nThings were quickening by the third.\nWe both were fond of watching birds.\nShe played checkers, I played chess.\nWe played each other to see who's best\nI fell hard. You bet I did.\nWhen she beat me at my game.\n\nDay four, our hearts kept up the pace.\nThough we knew it was not a race.\nJust being in her company,\nwas the best kind of fun for me.\nNothing about it was a quiz.\nShe was my kind of dame.\n\nA question came up upon the fifth.\nI asked exactly where she lived.\nAnd the answer so perfect you can ignore\nher room was down one floor!\nHopeless romance, I'm in bliss.\nLove the culprit to blame.\n\n6 days have passed and still I see.\nThe reasons why it's meant to be.\nGracefully across the common room\nshe is dancing with a broom!\nTruly a small world this is.\nWe both wound up insane.\n\nA week has now come and gone.\nI ask the nurse if she's seen my blonde.\nI find her and a blank stare in her eyes.\nI see, my face, she doesn't recognize.\nJust one day of meds she missed.\nnow I swallow the pain.\n\n", "Takashi sat silently in the new Lexus, scanning the area for threats.\n\nYokari-san was generous to those who served him well, and the new car was to show his appreciation to Takashi for keeping his only daughter safe the last three years.\n\nThe neon sign flashed its signal to the night. Dance. As if Yuki needed to know how to dance.\n\nTakashi had never met anyone so in tune with herself as Yuki. She always moved in rhythm, and her weekly dance lessons had only accentuated the effect on her sixteen-year old body.\n\nHe was Samurai. And that was enough. He needed to remind himself of that more often now that he was her primary bodyguard.\n\nYuki moved through the space around her like Takashi cut through the air with his eight cuts. Each angle carefully selected for maximum effect.\n\nIt had been three years since the first attack outside her school, and several months since the last attempt.\n\nThe last attack was still fresh on his mind. It kept him alert. And in pain, he thought, as he massaged his right hip absentmindedly. The two were not mutually exclusive.\n\nThe wound had not been as deep as it could have been. But it was deep.\n\nDistracted by his thoughts, he didn't see the gray Mercedes pull up next to him until the last moment. Alarm bells rang out in Takashi's head as he realized he didn't recognize the car.\n\nThe windows were tinted with a mirror finish, and he tensed, half-expecting that this was the end. His end. That a torrent of gunfire would cut through him in the next moment.\n\nIn a way, that's what it felt like when she opened her door and he saw her for the first time. Like ... one life was over and another was starting.\n\nShe was beautiful in ways his mind couldn't quite fathom. Certainly in ways he had never considered. Her dark hair cascaded around her perfectly proportioned face to petite, yet strong shoulders accentuated by the stripes of her tracksuit. And her yoga pants fit perfectly, he noted as she moved towards the building.\n\nHe was Samurai. That meant he had a mission. She was new and needed to be investigated, he told himself as he exited the car and followed her inside.\n\nStill, if the opportunity arose to introduce himself and learn her name ... well, no one would blame him for being thorough.\n\n...\n\nSeven days later. \n\nTakashi had been on three dates now with Akemi, the new dance teacher. Tonight would be the fourth. Her birthday.\n\nHe sat in the plush leather seat watching the craftsman make her birthday present.\n\nShe was seven days younger than him. Seven. Lucky. Just as he was for getting to know her.\n\nThe craftsman finished his work and blew on the thin metal to remove the last shavings, then placed it in a small brown envelope and handed it to him. \"242 yen,\" he said.\n\nTakashi paid the man gladly. A bargain.\n\nHe was more relaxed than ... well, anytime that he could remember. Yuki was safe at home with no activities after a sick teacher had cancelled a music lesson, and Takashi had planned his rare, lucky evening alone carefully around his time with Akemi.\n\nTakashi glanced at his watch. Late!\n\nHe drove too fast getting home, but traffic was light. \n\nOnce inside, he set the package of candles onto the table and started dinner. His precious eight cuts didn't translate to the knife work in the kitchen, but his knives - like his blade - were kept razor sharp. He diced the vegetables and meats expertly.\n\nTakashi had grown up in Yokari-san's household. His mother and father had died in a car accident when he was six.\n\nYokari had taken him in, but only as a place to learn and grow. So Yokari paid for Takashi to attend the best schools and to be trained by the best swordsman, but he was no father to Takashi.\n\nThat was right. He was Samurai and Samurai need a master. Not a father.\n\nSince Takashi had more in common with the servants of the household, he had learned kitchen work early, and he took great pride in his culinary skills. It was from them that he had learned to keep his cookware hung and in good quality always. He glanced up at the stainless steel brightened to a mirror's sheen by careful polishing and a gentle smile crossed his lips. Everything must be perfect.\n\nOnce dinner was cooked and simmering, he set and lit the aromatic candles on the table and dimmed the lights of his three-room apartment. A fresh scent of citrus mixed with the salivating aroma of dinner.\n\nA knock!\n\nTakashi looked again at his apartment for anything out of place. It was sparsely furnished, but the furniture was of the highest quality. Takashi had good taste. Expensive, lasting taste. He saved his money and lived in frugality to afford it.\n\nBut no, everything was where it should be. He patted the pocket of his jeans to check for the gift and heard the rewarding crackle of the thin paper.\n\nGlancing through the peephole, he saw Akemi. Akemi. Bright Beauty. And she was.\nHe opened the door and hugged her close. She laughed.\n\n\"Ohhh, everything smells so good, Takashi! I'm excited!\"\n\n\"You smell better, Akemi. Come, come.\"\n\nAnd Takashi led her to her seat by the hand and poured them each a glass of wine.\n\nShe sat, eyes following him as he moved through the kitchen, checking each dish to make sure everything was the right temperature and texture.\n\nAkemi watched him quietly, waiting. When his back was turned, she carefully removed the top of the tiny bottle she had hidden in her grasp and continued to watch Takashi carefully as she poured its liquid contents into his wine glass. Then, breathing a quiet sigh she didn't know she had been holding, she quickly replaced the cap and slipped it into the bra underneath her thin black dress.\n\nTakashi returned with the soup and main dish and placed them on the table. He ladled out their soup, hers first and then his, and then sat at the seat closest to her. It was at an angle so they could see each other's face and yet still be in close proximity.\n\nEven the few feet directly across from her was too far for Takashi's love.\n\nThe soup was excellent. They finished their bowls in silent appreciation, gazing into each other's eyes. She drank her wine, looking at Takashi expectantly. Hoping. Praying.\n\nHe grasped the glass with his left hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes full of love.\n\nAnd then they changed as Takashi plunged the knife he had hidden in his pocket into her perfect chest and knocking her backwards off of her chair and to the ground.\n\n\"How?\" She asked as she began to die.\n\n\"I saw you in the reflection,\" he explained. \"Lucky, I guess. Who do you work for?\"\n\nShe smiled sadly and shook her head. And then she died.\n\nTakashi watched her in silence for a while. Making sure. \n\nFinally, he removed the gift from his pocket placed the key to his apartment on her chest, now reddened with blood.\n\nStrangers to lovers to strangers. All in seven days.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\nThis is a continuation of a former story. [Part 1 is here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/435a38/wp_you_work_for_the_yakuza_your_boss_has_gotten/czfw261). The story continues in [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/44drko/wpa_knife_flashes_toward_your_heart_the_last/czq1nc9).", "The day I met Opal wasn't exactly special. It was an ordinary Saturday, overcast, a little nippy. Nippy enough to warrant a scarf, at least. Despite the chill, my whim compelled me to make an extra stop on my afternoon walk, between the post office and the grocery store. It was a place I'd visited before, and the residents were usually pleased to see me. Well, either that or asleep, but you know what I mean.\n\nOpal was a new face that day. She was an older girl. I've heard many a time that the older ones have a lot more trouble getting adopted, and perhaps that swayed me, but I like to think the motive was unimportant. I knew from the moment I scratched the side of her face and got that gravelly meow out of her that I wanted to take her home.\n\nThe hard part was committing to do it. The shelter was closed on Sunday, but I paid visits Monday and Tuesday night of that week, and neither time could I work up the nerve to ask the staff about adoption. I couldn't, I told myself. I couldn't afford a cat. I would do better to put my money towards my student loans than cat food, litter, and my apartment's pet rent. I didn't visit on Wednesday. I couldn't make up my mind. But Wednesday night, before I went to bed, I finally said to myself, yes, I would do it. I would bring Opal home. I went and spoke with the staff of the apartment complex on Thursday to confirm the pet rent policy. I bought kibble, I bought a litter box, I bought a comb, I bought a feather on a stick and a laser pointer. I was going to do it, and I was going to be prepared.\n\nI went in on Friday, and Opal was gone. The kindly woman at the desk told me that Opal had already been adopted. It took me a second to accept, but then I smiled as best I could, thanked the woman for her time, and left the shelter.\n\nI'm happy for Opal, don't get me wrong. She has a loving family now, as she deserves. But that doesn't stop the sting in my chest.", "Monday morning. I first saw him on the train and then again in the hotel lobby. He was tall, handsome in his business suit and maybe a little old for me. But there was still something there I found intriguing. I overheard him say he was going to be staying for a week. Sheena checked him in and gave him room 704, one of mine. I'd changed the sheets, cleaned the tub and toilet, and put out fresh soaps and shampoos just yesterday. \n\nHe didn't notice me coming out of the back after I clocked in for my shift. Funny how people won't look at you or just don't notice you when you're pushing this huge cart full of cleaning supplies right in front of them. I saw him board the elevator, and hurried in to get a better look. He smelled really nice. Whatever it was, I am guessing a bottle of it costs more than I make in a week.\n\nHe exited the elevator on the seventh floor, and I watched until the doors closed, heading on up to floor nine to begin my work. He wouldn't need me to do anything in his suite until tomorrow, probably.\n\nI smelled like bleach when I rode the train home. All I could think of was how nice he had smelled, and wouldn't it be great to smell like that after a hug from him, instead of like bleach after a day of cleaning toilets. I indulged myself in a romantic fantasy, daydreaming about meeting up with him in the hotel bar, dressed in something much more appealing than my uniform. No hair net. \n\nTuesday around nine, he put the little plastic placard on the door knob, letting me know he was ready for a clean. I'd been past the room a couple of times already, eager to see what more I could learn about him, besides the fact that he was good looking, older, and smelled nice. He was gone when I went in. \n\nBrooks Brothers shirts pressed neatly, hung in a row in the closet. Pants and jackets each in their group; and one pair of jeans; one pair of sneakers; pajamas and underwear, t shirts- everything smelled like it was freshly laundered, but slightly carried a memory of him. There was a book on the table, and a single empty soda can.\n\nThere wasn't much to clean, but I lingered longer than I should have. For some reason, I looked around before I did this, but then I laid down in the bed, squeezing the pillow for a second and pretended it was him- that scent was all over it. I heard the electronic lock engage as a card slid in it, and I almost wet myself jumping out of the bed and positioning myself to appear as though I'd only been making it.\n\n\"Oh, hi there, I just came back to grab something, and I'll be out of your way,\" he said, picking up a small leather binder off of an end table. His smile was warm and his eyes were green. I'd never seen lashes like that on a man . He was even more handsome than I'd noticed before.\n\nI couldn't speak, so I just smiled and nodded. He told me to have a wonderful day. I barely squeaked out \"OK, \" and out the door, he was gone. It was then that I noticed my reflection in the big mirror opposite the bed. Oh, shit! My hair was all over the place from having just moments before smushed my face into his pillow. I turned bright red, and thanked the gods no one could see me now. \n\nFucking Charlotte. I was still red and blotchy when I exited the room, and there she was, coming out of the elevator. \"Jennifer, take a allergy pill or something, please, you look like shit. Did you get the rooms on floor nine yet?\" \n\n\"Yes, Charlotte. I've finished nine, eight, and seven. I'm heading down to six now.\" Secretly, I wanted to kick her in the shins and run. In six months of working here, I've never been anything but efficient and fast. She knows that, but feels like she has to make herself look like she's motivating everyone.\n\nAll day Wednesday he had the do not disturb placard on the doorknob. I could hear people talking when I went by. Mostly men, but it sounded like at least one woman was in there, laughing. I went by a few times more than I should have, but I still got my work done on time.\n\nThursday was my day off, and I felt stupid for wanting to be there anyway. What kind of dummy wants to clean toilets just so they can look at some rich guy that's never going to give her a second thought? I walked the dog and we somehow ended up walking by the hotel. No sightings of the handsome Mr. Green Eyes.\nPoor Chuy, his little legs were not meant to walk that far, so I carried him home. \n\nFriday, I went in early, so that Maggie could go to a parent-teacher thing, and I saw him at the breakfast buffet. There were two other well dressed men and a woman with dirty blond hair talking to them with lipstick smeared across her teeth. She was laughing and touched one of the men on his arm. Then she turned to Mr. Green eyes and said \"Remember the conference in Buffalo? When we were all snowed in and had to stay there an extra two days? Good God, I'm glad we're in Miami this year!\"\n\nI got my coffee and went to tell Maggie I was here and she could leave.\n\nWhen I got to room 704, it was a bit more used than it had been the other day. There were dirty glasses and moisture rings on the table. His jeans were crumpled up and laying in the floor in front of the TV. I hung them in the closet, and began wiping everything down. I found an earring in the floor next to the bed, and set it on the dresser with a note. I wrote and tossed, and rewrote the note several times, finally settling on \"Found this while cleaning, did not see it's mate,\" a smiley face, and my name, with the word housekeeping in parenthesis. Mr. green Eyes and Dirty Blond Lady were probably shagging. I finished cleaning the room, made the bed, without noticing any dirty blond hairs, and left.\n\nSaturday, after my shift, I decided I would go out for a drink. It's against policy to drink in the hotel bar, so I changed in the staff bathroom, and headed to the place we all go- since I don't really know anybody that doesn't work with me. I sat down at the bar and talked to Mike the bartender, while he made me a Long Island Tea. No one else was there yet, it was kind of early, maybe sevenish. \n\nI was hungry, so I ordered some chili cheese fries, and right when they came, Mr. Green Eyes walked in. He was alone. The place was still mostly empty, and there he was- walking right towards me.\n\n\"Jennifer?\" The way he said it gave me goosebumps. Or maybe that was just a cool Atlantic breeze coming in from the open patio doors. I had on a simple blue dress with a low back, and the doors were right behind me.\n\nI nodded my head, and said \"704, right?\"\n\n\"That's right,\" he smiled. \"Thanks for putting Kim's earring on the dresser- she probably lost it along with her dignity, when she was drunkenly trying to get me to sit on the bed with her. \n\n\"That must have been fun.\" I raised my eyebrows involuntarily when I said that.\n\n\"Not really. I've worked with her for years, and she's married to a man I play golf with from time to time. I told her I was gay last year, thinking that might make her quit with the advances. No such luck.\"\n\n\"Are you gay?\" I smiled.\n\n\"Yes. I'm gay. I'm getting married next August, to my boyfriend of twenty years.\"\n\n\"Want some of my fries?\" That was all I could think of to say at the moment. Mr. Green Eyes was so out of my league, ha ha, but he was so nice, and smelled so good. He smiled and stuffed a chili cheese fry in his mouth.\n\nWe spent that whole night hanging out together. He bought me dinner, and we talked about Miami, dogs, music. Then we went dancing. He could salsa like a pro, and we had a lot of fun. We ended up walking on the beach at sunrise Sunday morning. He told me he was leaving in the afternoon, heading back home to San Diego, and his boyfriend. \n\n\"Well, Mr. Green Eyes, that was the best night out I've had in Miami so far, and I would like to thank you for spending it with me.\" I smiled and we walked back to the hotel. \n\n\"Can I get a hug?\" He asked. His embrace was so comfortable, and I was enveloped in the warmth of his arms, and the scent of his cologne.\n\nHis name was actually Paul, and clearly, he was not the one for me. But I will always remember those eyes, and that wonderful scent.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "11:30pm. Sunday. \nThe door slides shut. The street lamp highlights her lumpy silhouette as she trudges down the sodden path. This is the last time I’ll watch her leave. I’ll move on. There will be someone out there for me. Someone that understands.\n\nMonday. 8:40am. \nStunning. Absolutely stunning. I was in my usual spot finishing a coffee. A spot I’ve sat in a hundred times before but I’ve never seen her. The rain was lashing down, the wind grabbing at her dress while she gracefully prevented it from riding too high with carefully placed palms on her thighs. No jacket, no umbrella. She must live close. And probably works around here too. She saw me and cast a nervous smile, but there was something in it. Innocence but still the impression of an invitation deep in the eyes. There was something in it!\n\n11:45pm. \nI saw her again. Different clothes, hair changed and walking the other direction. Out so late. Off to see her boyfriend no doubt. Silly of me for even thinking. Idiot. It was just a smile. There is no one out there for me.\n\nTuesday. 9am. \nI saw her again in the same clothes as last night. I just wanted to put the idea out my head for good so I followed her a little bit. I followed her to her flat. Small place, must be a one bed and no sign of boyfriend. It dawned on me she probably works a night shift somewhere. Maybe I’ll find out where later.\n \nWednesday. 8am. \nA really long night. I couldn’t get her out of my head yesterday. Why am I doing this to myself again? It turns out she works at a service station 5 minute from here. She must be new to the area or I would have seen her. Probably doesn’t have many friends or family yet. I sat close to her place this morning. Thought about how I could ‘bump’ into her and start a conversation. Maybe get a dog and have it jump up at her… dress as a delivery guy with a package for a neighbor. I’m useless when it comes to women. Instead I just sat there making up improbable situations for us to meet. \n\n9am. \nShe works at a service station! I just need to go in and talk to her. I could build a relationship with her over time. Try and find out a bit more about her. Talk about her interests. I’m going to do it. I’m going to talk to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’m going to be confident and she is going to fall in love with me. I’m doing it tonight. \n\nThursday. 2am. \nUseless. \n\n11:30am. \nI couldn’t do it. I saw her leave her house, no dress today. Jeans. Still striking. I took my time. Went in around 1am and grabbed a 6 pack. ‘Just off to a house party’. Yes. Says I’m local, have friends, likes to have fun. ‘What time do you get off? – maybe you can join’. Perfect line. ‘Oh you won’t finish until at least 7. I’ll be walking back then – maybe I can walk you home’. \n\nNo. I stood there in silence. Handed her the beer and when she looked up at me I lowered my eyes to my feet. My pathetic shoes propping up a pathetic excuse for a man. She said nothing. Why would she. Look at me. I walked out the door. \n\nFriday. 6am. \nAm I in love with her? Or am I in love with an idea. A dream of getting out of this life. \n\nFriday. 2pm. \nI WILL talk to her tonight.\n\nSaturday. 1am. \nShe didn’t walk past tonight. She wasn’t at work. She wasn’t at home. Night off I guess. \n\nSunday. 10am. \nIt’s over. I don’t know why I thought things could be different. I was going to talk to her. I saw it all unfold. I got new clothes. We had our first date. I moved into her flat and then we saved up to get a bigger one with a second bedroom for our first child. Marriage. Love. \n\nI walked in and picked up a sick pack. Marched to the checkout head high. Placed down the beer, looked into her eyes. And froze. I just stared at her. I could see the pity in her eyes. No invitation. Just sadness at the wretch stood in front of her. Dirt on my face, toes poking through those pathetic shoes. \n\n‘It’s ok’ she said. ‘You were here the other day right? Maybe the drink isn’t the answer. My uncle fell on hard times too – lost his house, was on the streets too but he turned his life around. Once he put the drink down. There are places you can go you know – so you don’t have to be outside. On your own. Especially in this weather.’ She smiled. Pushed the 6 pack to side and pointed to the coffee machine instead. ‘Have one of those on me’.\n\nPity. All she sees is a bum. A drunk. \n\nHer uncle! Fuck her. \n\nSunday. 1pm. \nI hate her. How dare she! \n\n11:30pm. Sunday. \nThe door slides shut. The street lamp highlights her lumpy silhouette as she trudges down the sodden path. This is the last time I’ll watch her leave. I’ll move on. There will be someone out there for me. Someone that understands.\n" ]	9
	[wp] The Genie offers you your three wishes. You only need one.	[ "After searching for what seemed like forever i finally found the genie. At last my only wish would be fulfilled. Or so i hoped. My ocean like eyes sparked up with light as i looked into my petite pale hands that held a lime glowing orb.\n\nIt's been forever since i wished for something this badly, since i wished for the same wish day by day. It's always been one wish one day and another the next but the last 3 years of my life have been the same. Him.\n\nI stood out in the summer breeze, my short ginger hair spiked up. My favorite maroon coloured hoodie, dark blue jeans and converses on. Closing my eyes slowly as a small smirk forced on my freckled face. The memories flooding back all over again.\n\nThe sweet times, the bitterness, the falls, the tries and lastly the fights. Difficult times that meant everything. Nobody mattered more than him. \"Rick, why did you do this?\" i whimpered as i stood there. A small tear rolling off my cheek soaking into my hoodie while others followed. \"You meant everything to me, you knew that. I knew that, everyone knew that\" i continued as my hands clenched taking hold of the lime orb in my hands.\n\nMy own selfish greed consuming my heart. \"I'd give anything, i'd do anything to have you back. To hear a word, to know even a bit of your new life.\" Temptation taking a hold of me. \"I don't know if you'd want this but i want this, Rick\" I called out softly as more tears began flowing from my eyes.\n\nI rubbed the orb when suddenly lime smoke started forming around it. Before i could even see thought my teary eyes a genie appeared before me. \"You're here to have your three wishes aren't you?\" a strange voice called out to me. Nodding quietly before calling out \"only one wish. He's the only person i need\" the genie looked at me a slightly opened mouth.\n\n\"What's your wish then, young boy?\" i heard the genie say before i called out emotionally \"for Rick to contact me again.\" I dropped the orb as i moved my hands to cover my teary face. \"Is that really what you want your wish to be?\"\n\n\"Definetly, he's always been my everything. The light, the storm, the anger, the sadness and yet always my smile. Nobody else.. No nothing else matters that much to me and nothing ever will!\" I called out. The genie looked down at the ground before i heard my ringtone going off.\n\nQuickly reaching for my phone and picking it up as the lime smoke vanished. Looking down at the called id... unknown? I pick up the phone instantly.\n\n\"Hello?!\" i almost yell into my phone awaiting a reply. \"Hey Simon.. it's been a while hasn't it?\" the sadness escapes my body as i smile \"yeah it has\" i barely manage to say. \"Have you been crying Simon? I'm sorry for leaving you like that. Maybe lets go out for a coffee sometime if you want?\"\n\n\"Yeah that be nice\"", "\"Hey hey hey my man, what'll it be? Three wishes for you today, only catch is it's kaputs on wishing for more wishes. Just the uno dos tres, no more no less. Kapeesh?\"\n\nHis blue form bubbled out of the lamp, smoke twisting sinuously around me, forming into a hand to pay my back, and a face with eyebrows wiggling. \n\n\"All I ask is that with your last wish, you set me free from the lamp!\"\n\n\"You're a prisoner here?\" \n\n\"That's right!\" The genie boomed, swelling to an towering size and leaving me quaking in my boots. \"Enormous cosmic powers!\" He thundered, and just as quickly shrunk down to the size of my finger. \"Itty bitty living space. It's part and parcel of the whole genie gig, kid.\"\n\n\"I... how long have you been trapped in there?\"\n\n\"It's, let me see,\" he checked an imaginary watch. \"About one thousand years to the day!\"\n\n\"Don't you get bored in there? Lonely?\"\n\nHis expressive face fell, and I felt a tightness in my throat. \"Well, kid... I suppose I do. It's been a long time since anyone came along, and to tell the truth, the last one left me in here without setting me free. That hurts, you know?\"\n\nI gulped and picked up the lamp once more. \n\n\"I'm ready to make my wish,\"\n\nWith a sigh, the genie morphed into the form of a waiter at a high class restaurant. \"Your first wish, you mean, coming right up! What'll it be?\"\n\n\"I only need one. I wish you were free.\"\n\n\"Right-o, I'll take care of - wait, what? I- why?\"\n\nWith a great crackling sound, the lamp crumbled into dust. I smiled and held out my hand. \"I could have wished for you to be my friend, but that's not the kind of thing you need magic for, is it?\"\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"I suppose not.\"\n\nHis happy gasp when he saw the stars again that night was magic enough for me. " ]	2
	[WP] Yesterday, I buried my brother	[ "\"You have to stop drinking!\" he said with a sly smile, punching me in the shoulder. \"You have to drive home tonight!\"\n\n\"Nah, I'm fine!\" I replied with a smile. \"I've got you as my designated driver!\"\n\n\"Sorry, bro,\" he said. \"Not tonight, I'm not.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Of course you're driving me home!\" I said with a nervous laugh. \"How else am I supposed to get home?\"\n\nHe paused as his grin slowly faded into a seriousness. With a slight tug under my arm to lead me towards the payphone, he asked me, \"Let's just call you a taxi, yeah?\"\n\n\"Hey, man, what are you doing?\" I asked, feeling the euphoria from my beer dying down.\n\nHe took a deep breath as he stared into the wall, thinking of an answer. \"Do you remember that accident last week?\" \n\nAt this point, I felt my mind become as clear as if I were sober. \"Wh...what are you talking about?\"\n\n\"I didn't survive...\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"I'm dead, remember?\"\n\nShocked, I rubbed my bleary eyes with my hands, thinking he was just talking shit like he always does. \"I...I don't remember that,\" I replied, as I opened my eyes.\n\nHe disappeared.\n\nIt took a few moments to absorb what was going on until reality finally soaked in. I remember, I remember it now.\n\nYesterday, I buried my brother.", "My brother was always getting into trouble. The damn fool had really done it this time.\n\nSee, he was always one of those big chested, squared up, out macho any living thing kind of guy, who just loved living in the city. However, being as he's just entering his twenties, he doesn't have the kind of high paying employment to afford living in the nicer parts of town. Two and two always makes four, no matter how tragic the results are. \n\nIt all started four days ago. He managed to run his mouth off to some dangerous people, very bad men who wanted to set an example of the consequences of not treating them properly. My stupid brother. Why couldn't he just keep his anger in check. It's not a question if you know the answer is it?\n\nIn my life I learned a variety of skills that I've been paid for by various clients around the region. You may have even seen my work, but I sincerely doubt it, as my particular talent is making people disappear. When I had heard through the grapevine, because of course the tough bastard wouldn't tell me what was wrong, that he was marked, I began making a list, and a bill.\n\nA short forty eight hours, two trips to the morgue, four bribed officials, one blank passport, fifty thousand untraceable US dollars, and a box of those dreadful chocolate strawberry flavored Twunkeez™ later, I had faked my brother's untimely demise. Another expense, worse yet than all the before it, is that due to the sphere of influence this particular group of bad men have, my brother had to be smuggled out of the country. He's had to go to a place I surely won't mention here, and for all intents and purposes, he has to be dead to me.\n\nYesterday, I buried my brother. ", "My brother was always scared of the dark. So scared that his bedtime was always right before the sun went down. I remember quite fondly the times he woke up in the middle of the night, calling out to me to watch out for whatever may lurk in the darkness so that he could rest peacefully again. Most of the time I did not mind, I could never sleep through the night anyways.\nThe problems started soon after our 17th birthday. First it was just like any other cold. A nasty cough and a bitter burn in his temples were the only abnormalities. Then one day he collapsed after our walk home from school. In a matter of months I saw my brother crawl closer and closer to the edge. They had found a large tumor on his brain. No surgery would be able to guarantee survival. The doctor gave him 6 months at best. Still not over his fear of the dark at the ripe age of 17, he asked if I could wait for him to fall asleep in the darkness of his hospital room before returning home. Every night for 6 months I stayed with him all night. \nFinally the day came. It started off as every night had before it. I turned the lights off in his room, and made light conversation with him. Just waiting for his meds to kick in and for him to drift off to sleep. \"What did you learn at school today?\" he asked tiredly. \"Oh, not much,\" I replied shortly, \"A whole bunch of nonsense.\" \"Do you think its a whole bunch of nonsense that I'm afraid of the dark?\" he asked with a sly smile. \"Id like to think that hopefully someday I'll be able to drop the habit..\" he said with increasing drowsiness. And with that he was sound asleep. Sometime around four in the morning his heart rate monitor screamed and lit up with a flatline. He was gone. Ascending into the darkness for one last time. \n Yesterday, I buried my twin brother. Today, I woke up on his grave, hoping his fear of the dark was gone once and for all. " ]	3
	[WP] One question. You had one question. Any question. You could ask whatever you wanted and get the exact, perfect answer. You could have asked any question generated by the infinite complexity of the human mind. And you ask THAT? Really? WHY?	[ "“Really? That's your question? I'm offering you any piece of the infinite knowledge of the universe, and that's what you want to know? Why even make the journey to come see me?” The apparition known only as the Answer looked at me incredulously.\n\n“Yeah, pretty much. Humans shouldn't know much more than what we can figure out ourselves. This is just something that our scientists just can't seem to crack.” \n\n“Well, if you say so..” the Answer still didn't look entirely convinced, but if he felt I was wasting my question he didn't bring it up again. “I will give you your answer.”\n\nWith that, the waved his hands around until something small and colorful appeared in his right one. He tore off the orange wrapper off the object he'd created.\n\n“Let's find out.” He said as he begins to lick the object, “A-one, a-two, a-threeee.” \n\nAfter three licks he bites the object whole, hands me the leftover stick and says, “Your answer, is 3 licks.\"", "That was it.\n\n\nThe moment everyone waited.\n\n\nThe creation of the the perfect All Knowing AI. God in a machine. \n\n\nSo much power was needed to maintain it alive that we had only the time to ask him one question. Only one question, before he shut-down. \n\n\n1000 years of energy-saving before we could launch him again.\n\n\nWe miss calculated the raw energy release at his creation. The blast of power knocked out everyone in the room. i was the only one left standing. I stared at the white screen where billions of colorful symbole moved in harmony forming a face, several face ever changing in an instant.\n\n\nI was the only one able to speak to it, before he stop existing.\n\n\nSo i took the burden on my shoulder and asked him the question. \n\n\nThe Question humanity needed to know the answer : \n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \nWhy Do Kids Love the Taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?", "\"Wow, that's a really good deal. So I can ask you literally any, one question and you'll give me a detailed and understandable answer?\"\n\nAfter a very long pause, he said \"yes\" in a tone of voice one would use to answer a child if they asked if they should chew their food first, and then in a puff of smoke he was gone. " ]	3
	[WP] A Man has been walking for multiple days and nights with little food or water and is nearing the point of exhaustion when he happens upon a crossroads in the dead of night. He stops for a rest and a man in an expensive suit comes up to talk to him.	[ "\"You've been travelling a while. You're weary, tired, and in need of food and water. And you find yourself here, with me,\" said the suited man to the tattered man.\n\nThe tattered man nodded, his torn and dirty clothes shaking loosely around his skinny frame.\n\n\"You don't have much further to go. I'm just coming from that way. Headed towards where you came from, in fact. You'll find what you need over the ridge. It really is something. A different world, even.\"\n\nThe tattered man straightened his posture a bit before lifting his chin up to look at the suited man. \"Why are you leaving, then,\" he asked.\n\nThe suited man paused for a moment, looking at his oxfords instead of meeting his company's gaze. Finally, he composed his answer.\n\n\"With the way I lived my life, I guess I needed a change of pace. Too much of a good thing, you know?\"\n\nThe man in rags looked down the road he came from, and then out along the road leading to the ridge. \"Yeah, I guess,\" he said. \n\nHe turned back to face the suited man, but the suited man was gone. A pile of fresh clothes, neatly folded over a pair of oxfords and a fine watch, sat on the floor where he had been standing a moment before.", "\"Well, well. Isn't this a sight. You seem a bit frazzled there, friend.\" The man's voice was smooth and soft, like warm velvet on a cold day. From his oxfords to the immaculately tied knot of his tie, he exuded style, and also money. \n\n\"Wa- Water.\" Your voice is a dry croak. \"Plea- Please.\"\n\n\"Water? Oh, delicious stuff that. Not my personal forte, if I'm honest. I prefer something with a bit more kick. A good whiskey has never gone amiss.\"\n\n\"I need... water.\" The words are agony on your throat, and you desperately gesture in a drinking motion, the effort causing a wave of pain and exhaustion to spread from your limbs. \n\n\"Ah, you need water. Well that's easy enough. Here, have a bit of mine. Fresh from the waters of Eden. Never better, my guarantee.\" He reaches into his coat and pulls out an ornate bottle, stoppered with cork and wax. \n\nYou desperately try to undo the wax, but the weakness overcomes you and the bottle slips from your grasp. You cry in horror, but before it can hit the ground and break, the man deftly kicks out a foot and bounces the bottle back to your hands. The wax and cork are gone. \n\n\"Careful friend, you don't want to drop that.\" He sounded amused at your plight, but did nothing more to help you. You grasped the bottle firmly in both hands, sipping slowly as you desperately try to stop yourself from chugging it. You read somewhere that when you are dying of thirst, you should sip. At least you think you remember reading it somewhere. Your memories are all a jumble. The water is ice cold, and so pure it seems to be healing your aching body with every swallow.\n\n\"Smart man, normally you mortals are so careless, always gorging yourselves right into my father's house.\" His words were confusing, and you tried to focus on them, but the need to continue drinking gripped you and refocused only the water. \n\n\"So, now you're saved, I suppose you're going to want some more help. Food, a place to stay, a map, transportation. You always need something of that sort.\" The man wore a wry grin on his ridiculously handsome face. It seemed like a blend of all the leading men you remembered from Hollywood movies, square jawed and angular, with deep set eyes, with golden pupils. Wait, golden pupils? You concentrate more closely and see that underneath his perfectly coiffed hair, his eyes are golden, no, wait, silver. No, gold again. They are changing as he stares at you, from gleaming gold back to glowing silver, endlessly reverting to and fro. \n\n\"No? Nothing? Well, this is a first. Do be a dear and try not to die, my brother gets so angry with me when he has to clean up messes like you. He prefers your souls in easy to find locations, like big cities, or at least a village.\" His words were all a jumble again. Souls? Brother? Wait, was he the Devil? Did you just take something from the Devil? Did you bargain for it? You can't remember anything before the man appeared, water in hand for you.\n\n\"Soul? Did I?\" You croak the words, fear, as well as exhaustion causing your voice to falter. \n\n\"What? Soul? Did you trade it to me? Good Heavens no. What in Creation would I do with a soul? Humans and your ridiculous myths. Faust. Ugh.\"\n\nOkay, so he didn't take your soul. Still, he made a great deal of references to things that made you think he was the Devil. You decided you should probably be on your way before you got in any trouble. \n\n\"Thank you.\" The words come easier now, your strength seemingly restored as you finish the water. Wait, you did finish the water, so why is it full?\n\n\"Ah, the water, yes. It will continue to refill itself, so long as you have need of it. And worry not, you needed it far more than I ever did, or will.\" You hear what sounds like a great rush of wings, when suddenly there is another man standing next to the first. He was also dressed immaculately, in similar fashion to the first, but where the first man wore black and white, this new arrival wore white, and more white. His eyes also swirled between white and gold, but his hair was pure white, like driven snow, rather than the black of the first. \n\n\"Michael,\" the new arrival said, in a voice that sounded like trumpets. \"We are needed.\"\n\n\"Right, right, Lucifer. Right you are.\" Lucifer, that was what the devil was named! But wait, the new arrival was addressed as Lucifer, and the man that helped you was called Michael. Like the angel. Two angels? But Lucifer was evil! The Devil. \n\n\"De- Devil!\" Your cry was a wailing thing, and you backed yourself up as fast as you could, pushing yourself away. \n\n\"Ha ha ha. Lucifer, the mortals still call you that?\" Michael appeared amused. \n\n\"Old habits, brother mine. They cannot fathom I simply played the role Father set out for me, or that my return to my family was allowed and even planned.\" The one in white did not seem nearly so amused as the one in black. \"By the by, brother mine, did you dress in black to confuse the mortal? He clearly thought you were me.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's a just a game, Luci. I like going against stereotypes. Always have, you know that.\" He was grinning now, clearly amused that you were so obviously taken in by the simple colors he wore. \"Anyway mortal, I really must be going. Do take care of yourself. I really would hate for our brother to have come and fetch you. He'd be so cross with me.\"\n\n\"Come, brother mine, the trumpets sound.\" You didn't hear anything, but there was a flash of white and rush of wings that caused you to cover your eyes. When you opened them, there was a great feast laid out, new clothes, a portable shower, and even a new car. All the things Michael had assumed you would need. You shook your head trying to process things and set about solving the mystery, when all of a sudden, your stomach gave a loud growl. You could always think on it later. " ]	2
	[WP] You've passed all of your tests, got your license and scraped up half of the funds like you agreed with your parents. Now your dad is bringing you to buy your very first spaceship.	[ "I looked at the pile of junk and frowned.\n\n\"Is this what I'm paying $14,000 for?\"\n\n\"That's 28K including my share,\" my dad had chuckled, \"I'll tell you... this is a lot better than what I've had for my first spaceship.\"\n\n\"That's because you're ancient, Dad\" I sighed as I walked around the space ship, \"Looks like it's got maybe only 4 seats in the cockpit and a resting area.\"\n\nMy dad opened a booklet and nodded. \"Four mains seats and a resting area of perhaps eight people,\" he confirmed, \"You might be able to fit a couch in there too.\"\n\n\"God, that's small,\" I frowned as I reconsidered my choices, \"And this is the only option we have?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"Nothing else?\" I was desperately trying to fish out something from him.\n\nMy dad scratched his chin and reconsidered. \n\n\"We could save a lot of money and get an Audi or a Porsche...\"\n\n\"A car?\" I decided I was fine with the spaceship, \"No thanks, Dad.\"\n", "\"Dad, this is a pile of junk.\" Vash spoke with an annoyance in his tone as his Father and the salesmen were looking deep into the nook of an exterior plasma vent. \n\n\"It's a classic!\" The salesmen said with much pep and vigor, licking his lips as he could taste the commission. \n\n\"You hear that son? It's a classic!\" His father spoke finally emerging while wiping some oil off of his hands with an old rag. \n\n\"I wanted an X-p97 model!\" Vash groaned checking his wrist communicator to see if he had any messages from Sarra his long distance girlfriend, who was prompting that he should get a ship for many months now. \n\n\"Well i want a pleasure droid, but with me raising you and your brother alone, and working two jobs this is what i can afford, even with you chipping in!\" he said stuffing the rag in his back pocket.\nVash groaned and rolled his eyes, his father didn't understand him even slightly and if he had even the slightest clue, he would know this ship would not get anyone laid. \n\n\"Besides\" his father went on \" You had to take your pilots test twice because you failed the maneuverability. Anything with an advanced hyperdrive is something you aren't ready to handle, and the insurance alone...look, son. This freighter is a workhorse, the engines last, and the nav computers are really reliable, i've never had a bad jump into an asteroid field with one of these.\" He spoke with a smile\n\n\"Fine, whatever. I just wanna be able to visit my girlfriend for a change. A two lightyear distance relationship is hard enough!\" Vash pouted.\n\n\"Tell you what kiddo!\" the salesmen chimed in. \"I'll throw in some fuzzy dice on the house!\" the salesmen chuckled with dollar signs in his eyes.\n\n\"Hear that son?! Fuzzy dice! We'll take it.\" Vash's father said with a grin. \n\n\"I'll get the datapad for a dna signature!\" The salesmen said rushing back to his office.\n\n\"You make sure you use protection when you go visit sarra. She won't be able to keep her mandibles off of you, flying up in this baby. I don't need any squid babies slithering about, inking on my carpet.\"\n\n\"DAD! SHE'S NOT A SQUID, SHES TREXLEMORPH, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! YOU'RE SO IGNORANT!!!!\" Vash cried putting his face in his hands.", "\"Stop looking at your datapad, Wooram,\" Jae glared at the rear mirror at his son's face, illuminated by his datapad's backlight.\n\n\"Sorry, appa. Just excited,\" he looked up, grinning, \"Jason-hyung was saying I needed to make sure my ship had a trim characteristic rating above a 4.0. I'm just looking at which ships they have that are in my price range.\"\n\nThe price match limit that Jae had given his son was largely ceremonial. Jae had done very well for himself - his law firm was well known and he had a client base extended across three stations within the system - and the lesson to be learned by Wooram about financial responsibility and independence was worth a lot more than an extra $$300,000-$$500,000 in price tag.\n\n\"It's not all about numbers and ratings,\" Jae returned his attention back on the lane so he could make the turn to the docks, \"You choose your ship on numbers alone, and you'll end up with something shiny that doesn't fit you. Now put that thing away for now, we're just about there.\"\n\nThe Dock Requisitions Hub was quieter on Saturdays as most families were in the recreational centers or the synthetic nature preserves. Calumny-5442's DRH was smaller than most other space stations as Calumny-5442 was a financial station as opposed to a industrial or agriculture station, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in unconventional selection. Jae smiled at the memory of his own father taking him to the DRH to purchase his Aether-Rise X-4418 Schooner. Although he had been forced to retire his ship some two decades ago as it was too cost prohibitive to refit its mooring locks to the docking upgrades made system wide, the memory of his wide-eyed excitement as he walked between the various ships that he had spent nearly eight years of his life saving for filled him with a tinge of nostalgia as one of the few moments he and his father had a genuine interaction.\n\n\"Mr. Park! I'm glad you could make it! We've closed the floor just-,\" Mr. Aldrich stopped mid sentence as Jae shook his head. Mr. Aldrich smiled in understanding, \"in the main showroom as we're doing some renovations, but we've still a number of vessels available to show you.\"\n\n\"I appreciate it, Lawrence. Besides, I know it's quiet on Saturdays so I thought I'd give you some business. And we're not here to indulge my hobbies, Lawrence. I'm here with a new customer referral,\" Jae said, winking to his old friend.\n\n\"Ah. You must be Wooram. I've heard so much about you from your father. Now, before I go ahead and show you what we have available, it's customary for me to ask you price range just so I can get a feel for what would fit your needs best,\" Lawrence asked.\n\n\"I can max out at $$800,000,\" Wooram looked to his Jae, who nodded, \"and I already have some ideas about what I want.\"\n\n\"Oh? Is there a specific class you're interested in.\"\n\nWooram pulled out his datapad to show Lawrence the values he wanted in his ship. Lawrence chuckled to himself as he surveyed the numbers. Woorman certainly did his research even if his expectations were over eager.\n\n\"Style and maneuverability over speed. I like the way you think. Right this way.\"\n\nThe back showroom held Lawrence's special inventory, the one he rarely showed even his most loyal customers. He maintained the back showroom out of his love for the ship-laying craft, an appreciation for the trade that was equal parts function and grace. Already in his mind, he had an idea of which ones Wooram would go for, but he was just as ready to be surprised by what the young man would choose.\n\nUpon reaching the back showroom, Lawrence took an old metal key out of his inner coat pocket and inserted it into the wood door that led inside.\n\n\"Is this real wood?\" Wooram asked.\n\n\"Good eye! Yes, imported from the Amazon. Cost a fortune, but business has been good and it reminds me of home. And, Wooram, I am a slave to appearance. I know you're probably thinking this makes my showroom less secure, but very few people are aware this room even exists, so it's a risk I'm willing to take. Hold on a second while I turn on the lights,\" Lawrence said, reaching inside to feel for the switch. His fingers found the switch, but he walked inside before turning them on so he could see Wooram's reaction.\n\nIt got him every time. As one by one the rows of LED bulbs lit the room till it reached from end to end, the look on Wooram's face was the reason he stayed in the business at all even though he had made enough to retire well. Joy could not quite describe Wooram's expression. There was a wild excitement, a sense of wonder that sent a knowing tingle down his every nerve that filled Wooram as he looked across the room not at the magnificently crafted profiles of the ships. Freedom was what Wooram saw, with a dash of anticipation.\n\nThe seconds melted into minutes into what seemed hours as Wooram almost sprinted from ship to ship, his hands caressing the gentle curves of each of the ships, his eyes scanning over the specifications, his mind imagining the adventures he might take. Lawrence and Jae chatted idly about the economy and each others wives as they watched. Lawrence, ever the salesman, attempted to interest Jae in a couple of his modified Aether-Rise Remanufactures, but Jae politely declined.\n\nAfter about an hour and a half, Wooram jogged back from the end of the room, his face plastered with a giddy grin, \"I think I found her, appa.\"\n\n\"Lead the way,\" Jae said.\n\nThe three of them walked all the way to the far corner of the showroom, under a row of lights that flickered slightly, begging to be replaced. The ship they stopped in front of surprised Jae.\n\n\"Can I try out the pilot's seat?\" Wooram asked. Lawrence nodded, walking up to the service panel to unlock the cockpit and release the ladder. Wooram dashed over, clambering up and almost slipping in his eagerness. As he settled into the pilot's chair, he looked over the side and grinned even wider.\n\n\"How much is this?\"\n\n\"It's priced at $$650,000, but, to be honest I'm not sure if I really wanted to part with it,\" Lawrence said, resting his hand on the port side swept-down wing, \"Do you know what model this is?\"\n\n\"It's a MK14 Vapiron-C. A civilian redesign of the MSF-I Vapiron. They made about 100,000 of these and were initially going to slate them for police service, but they got outbid by Aegis Dynamics,\" Wooram focused back forward on the control monitors, \"I thought most of these were melted for scrap.\"\n\n\"Most were. I managed to save this from the scrap yard. Let's say I were willing to part with this one, I'm curious, why this one? For $$300,000 you could get a CF-11 Crimson which is updated. This one still needs a dock retrofit and a bit of work before you'll be able to put her in the air.\"\n\n\"I know. I'll need to replace the wing plating, probably refurbish the thruster intakes. I definitely need to refinish the cockpit canopy and rebuild this guidance system, but,\" Wooram stopped his admiration as he tried to find the right words for what his mind understood and his heart felt, \"just. All these ships. They're nice and polished. They have great stat values. I see why you made the comment about style and maneuverability over speed. Seems you like the same things I do. But this right here. This ship, will need a lot of work. Once I'm done fixing her up....\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Jae asked.\n\n\"It's just like you said, appa. It's not all numbers and ratings. I've never really wanted anything new, I've always wanted something that was mine. This ship. I don't know how to describe it. Just something about the curves and angles. It's something about the way she's got a bit of wear and neglect, but stays, I don't know. Proud? Potential. That's the word I'm looking for. I don't want something anyone can just buy and fly. I want something that I can fix, something that is just mine. And this? This is it. I'll pay as much as you want for it, Mr. Aldrich, even if I have to save up more and wait a little longer. Can you hold it for me?\"\n\nJae and Lawrence both laughed.\n\n\"No, no. I'll let her go,\" Lawrence said, \"Reluctant as I may be. If she calls to you, Wooram, I won't stand in your way. Why don't we-.\"\n\n\"I'll take care of the paperwork, Lawrence,\" Jae interrupted, \"Wooram, you know your way back to the front office?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" Wooram said, absentminded as he poured over the interior.\n\n\"Head back when you're done.\"\n\n\"Got it,\" Wooram answered, totally distracted from everything. Jae patted Lawrence on the shoulder for him to follow.\n\nAs they exited the showroom, Lawrence turned to Jae, \"how long did you have him saving up for?\"\n\n\"Since he was about 5 or 6. Ever since he saw the picture of my Aether-Rise. He's got the fever. I already told the wife that we couldn't take that from him, we can only encourage him to be safe about it.\"\n\n\"I imagine he wants to go into racing?\"\n\n\"I don't know what he wants to go into. I just know that he wants to fly.\"\n\n\"Sounds like us when we were his age.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" Jae let the warmth he felt in his chest spread through his body, \"yea it does." ]	3
	[WP] Due to the wonders of modern technology, a kid actually grows up to be a firetruck.	[ "GCA Report, 4-101. Terradate: March the 7th, 2338. \nPersonal Account of Captain Riyan Bern.\n\nConcerning the colonization of rocky planets...\n\nThe planet Mars, and the planet formally known as 'Mercury', submitted decades ago. Self-sufficient human settlements thrive on both planetary surfaces. And the extent of mankind's colonial achievement is easily demonstrated by the Martian megalopolis, Sojourner. Even the great cities of Old Earth seem pale in comparison with the magnificence of this celestial capital--the magnificence of my home city...\n\nOf the rocky planets (excluding the lesser ice-bodies, of course), only one stalwart remains to be wrestled into compliance: the devil's planet, 'Venus'.\n\nOnly three humans have ever managed to touch her molten skin and return unkissed by fire. All of them were stout Martians. One of them--was my Grandfather.\n\nToday I announce plans to complete my Grandfather's ambitions. Venus will be conquered within my children's lifetimes. \n\n\nGCA Report, 4-215. Terradate: October the 31st, 2339. \nPersonal Account of Director Riyan Bern.\n\nLike the Chinese of Ancient Earth, Venus boasted a wall, deadly to any who wished to penetrate it. For centuries Venus has taunted us with her impregnable barrier. But she will taunt us no longer. \n\nToday, we toppled her wall. Today...the heaven's were forced opened and the skies were freed: Venus' toxic atmosphere is no more. Phase Akatsuki is complete. Our dream waves us closer.\n\n\nGCA Report, 4-488. Terradate: November the 12th, 2357. \nPersonal Account of Director Riyan Bern.\n \nThe ashes of the fallen haunt me. For how many more lost spirits must I be accountable...? How many more parentless children and empty graves?\n\nWill the fires of Venus never be quenched? Will her volcanoes spew death for all eternity? I refuse it. Our men and women fought the fires and lost. We will not lose again.\n\nI have gathered the greatest minds in the system--Martian, Earth-born, and Primary ('Mercurian'). We will not rest until I can honor those who have suffered with a promise of success.\n\n\nGCA Report, 4-493. Terradate: April the 24th, 2381. \nPersonal Account of Subject Riyan Bern.\n\nMartian life expectancy may be the longest in our galaxy, but still I am aging too quickly. My time is drying out. No one else is fit to carry on after me, so I press forward. \n\nWe have begun the initial experiments. Venus will suffer no human to trespass on her terrain, so--we will send no human. There will be no more death.\n\nTransferring human consciousness to an invincible mechanical body, this is Dr. Poliarus' solution. The mindful automaton will be massive, equipped with hoses and tanks of incredible scale. At last, the volcanoes of Venus will drink themselves to exhaustion.\n\nSadly, too many years have passed since its conception and people have lost faith in Phase Amaterasu. No one will volunteer. No one except I.\n\n\nGCA Report, 4-499. Terradate: July the 3rd, 2383. \nPersonal Account of Subject Riyan Bern.\n\nAll the preparations have been made. Probability of success is disheartening, but even after so many years I have heart to spare.\n\nAt midnight, the transfer will begin. This will be my last entry as a human, a Martian, a father...\n\nTomorrow, I awake to my destiny. The ancients had a name for this sort of machine. 'Firetruck', they called it. Well, dear Venus... I HOPE YOU ARE PREPARED TO BE FIRETRUCKED!\n\nEnd Report.\n\n", "\"When I grow up, I want to be a firetruck!\"\n\nIt was cute, in a kids-say-the-darnedest-things sort of way. Perhaps Oberon Veigh had smiled wryly, amused by the child's imagination. Perhaps he'd been surprised by the archaic image, impressed by his son's apparent familiarity with historic modes of transport. He imagined he probably had. \n\nNow, of course, it wasn't quite so charming.\n\nHe had, he hoped, been a good father, most of the time. A little distant, maybe. Possibly a little too preoccupied with work. But heck, work was important. Veigh was a staunch vocationalist like his father before him. He believed, as he frequently evangelized to his friends and co-workers, that in a post-scarcity universe a man needed a framework to build his life around.\n\nHe had spent his youth studying, learning, immersing himself in the science and technology that had lifted humanity to the stars and beyond, taming the cosmos, harnessing gravity, wielding matter and energy like gods. Oberon Veigh built worlds out of light, and lifted the cities that housed their heavy billions out of the oceans themselves.\n\nAnd his son still wanted to be a firetruck.\n\nVeigh would be the first to admit that he wasn't \"down with current trends\". He was quietly proud of it. He was a serious man who did serious work, who didn't have time for the pleasuredomes and fictions of the masses. But even so. Was it... was that normal now? Being a firetruck? Being an actual firetruck?\n\nAnd apparently it was. There was a fire station, with a pole. A city, roads, fire hydrants. Other firetrucks, who... what? Drove around putting out fires? Were driven. By firefighters, of course.\n\nPerhaps it was a sex thing. He sort of hoped it was, but he never asked.", "I've had a bit of trouble adjusting since the operation.\n\nIt's to be expected, of course; it was pretty drastic. The mental task of mapping the human being in my mind's eye onto the gigantic red beast I had become was almost too abstract to handle. I still haven't figured out where my fingers and toes are, or what they are. Do the treads of my tires qualify? I guess it doesn't matter.\n\nI don't know what my compartment looks like inside, but I don't think I have a steering wheel. It certainly feels like I'm calling the shots there. Maybe that's just a quirk of my equivalent of a brain. One thing I know for sure is that the firemen still control the hose.\n\nWhen I put out a fire, it feels like I'm sweating a lot. All out of one place. Before the operation, I'll admit my mind went to lewd places when I tried to make sense of the fire hose in the context of a human body. But in actuality, it's not even pleasant. It's like spending a week in the desert, all in the span of seconds. I can feel the water leaving me.\n\nOne thing I sorely miss is my sense of time. It's completely gone. All I have to go on is my age when I underwent the procedure - twenty-four - and some broad assumptions about how long people use emergency vehicles. But I really don't know how old I am. I could still be twenty-four, or I could be over a hundred years old. In all likelihood, I'm probably not older than maybe sixty right now.\n\nThat's just the way things go. I never did too well in school, and this is where I ended up because of it. The luckiest of us get all the wealth and cushy treatment they can handle; the people below them get mediocre jobs and scrape by with their finances. And people like me get to give up on their dreams, let a surgeon hack them to pieces, and be reassembled as living vehicles and appliances.\n\nSome days I can't help but remember how vast my ambitions were in my childhood. I wanted to be an office worker back then, before reality set in.\n\nBefore I grew up to be a firetruck.", "I sexually Identify as a fire truck. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of racing through the streets blasting jets of pressurized water on raging infernos. People say to me that a person being a fire truck is Impossible and I’m fucking retarded but I don’t care, I’m beautiful. I’m having a plastic surgeon install ladders, pumps and 50-foot nylon hoses on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me “LaFrance” and respect my right to extinguish from below and extinguish efficiently. If you can’t accept me you’re an autophobe and need to check your rescue vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding." ]	4
Saw [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/videos/comments/44xrlv/youtuber_gives_a_guide_on_how_to_land_a_737_in/czu28pf) and thought one of you geniuses could do something magical with it.	[WP] You're nearing the end of a flight when both pilots slump unconscious at the controls. Luckily , there are flight sim experts on the plane returning home from FlightSimCon... 80 of them. And they all want a turn.	[ "\"I mean I know how to fly...but i've never worked one of these radios before. I can set the freq, but where the hell is the push to talk?\"\n\n\"Fucking Casual, I was flying Lockheed Tri-Stars on VATSIM while you were still trying to figure out BF1942. Move over, it's my turn.\"\n\n\"Hey man, if you remember...I'm the one that noticed something was wrong in the first place. Besides, how many of those old planes have MFDs? I mean hell you couldn't even set the autopilot!\"\n\nOutside the plane, storm clouds were swirling all around them. The weather screen looked like a red and green Christmas Tree, the cockpit door was open, and the flight attendant lights were blinking in their own festive dance as each passenger called in to 'help'.\n\nThere was a crackle over the headset, \"Malaysian 370 Heavy this is Center, do you read?\"\n\n\"Seriously man, I don't know how to respond to him.\" The first voice was trembling, \"We need to find out where they want us to go Sal. It was fun while we were taking turns but we've only got about thirty minutes of fuel left.\"\n", "The plane began it's descent rather early. \"Wow we'll make it back in time for the game\" Fred exclaimed as he glanced at his watch. Being only flight simulation experts, every one passenger reveled in the real life complexities of maneuvering a plane, deciphering the decisions and actions taken by their trusted pilots, trying to gain better understandings of what it would be like to pilot a real plane. \n\nWith their self-consuming interest and blinding trust, what started becoming an unmanned nose-dive was simply gone unnoticed until Fred realised this was NOT an early descent. \"Aww shit..\".\n\nRip everyone.", "NTSB Lead Investigator: C. Daniels \n\nReport Date: 02/10/16 \n\nEvent Date\t: 2/02/16 \n\nReport(s) Status - Published - Probable Cause\n\nLocation - Rockaways, New York\n\nMake/Model - Boeing 787-9\n\nRegist. Number - NBL8021N\t\n\nNTSB No - K-226-XR-801B\n\nEvent Severity - Multiple Fatalities\n\nType of Air Carrier Operation and Carrier Name (Doing Business As)\n\nJetBlue/Passenger\n\nIncident Remarks: \n\nNTSB Investigators have traveled to the site, conducted interviews and reviewed available data, including radio traffic between ATC and Flight prior to incident and flight tracking information provided by the regional flight center (RFC). Flight summary to follow:\n\nAt 1850 GMT Flight JB 717 took off from LAX and followed their listed flight plan exit corridors until achieving stable flight level at 19:05GMT. Radio traffic between the air crew and ground is unremarkable for the next 4.5 hours until 23:35GMT when flight Purser S. Johansen entered the flight deck and discovered the entire flight team unresponsive at their stations and the aircraft under automatic flight controls. In an attempt to forestall panic, Purser Johansen closed the flight deck door and retrieved the communication headset from third officer P. Manesh to contact ATC. An in-flight emergency was declared at 23:42GMT as 119 SOULS IN JEOPARDY and VESSEL IN PERIL state was determined. ATC began the incident reporting chain and carrier emergency services were activated. Purser S. Johansen remained in contact with ground, ATC and carrier controls and advised that numerous passengers were beginning to show signs of alarm and panic. In an unauthorized attempt to calm the passengers, Purser Johansen used the inboard intercom to discuss the situation with flight attendants S. Smith, R. McCoombs and T. Branas. FA Smith advised Purser Johansen that she had overheard numerous on-board conversations related to flight, piloting and existing training and experience. Due to the severity of the situation Purser Johansen made the unusual choice of asking FA Smith and McCombs to quietly locate passengers who had the most relevant training or experience and to bring them to the belowdecks crew galley for a meeting. This meeting occurred at 23:59 and was attended by FAs Smith, McCombs and passengers J. Longren, P. Williams, R. Jones and A. Earhart (no relation) with Purser Johansen on the flight deck and speaking via the inboard intercom. Partial transcript follows after Johansen finishes explaining the situation:\n\n.....\nR. Jones: Fucking awesome!\n\nP. Williams: Amazing, what luck!\n\nJ. Longren: Oh man what a sweet opportunity!\n\nPurser Johansen: Uh, maybe you didn't understand....we are in a critically dangerous situation and we need help if we're going to land this aircraft safely. Do you or do you not have flight training & piloting experience? (exasperation, confusion)\n\nA. Earhart: Oh we'll fly this big bitch alright. I've got thousands of hours on this model - hell I flew one of these from SFO to NRT upside down just for fun!\n\nR. Jones: Look Amy, just because you THINK flying everything upside down is funny doesn't mean you should get to fly this thing. I'm the President of the Utah FlightSim Alliance - I've been piloting in MS Flight Sim since I needed to make a Dos Boot Disk to run it in MONOCROME. I'm clearly the most qualified to assist. \n\nJ. Longren: Just because you idiots have embroidered jackets doesn't mean you're a better pilot. You know I spanked you last year at FlightConSouth! You got out of your simpod and threw up! \n\n(transcript interrupt - several voices talk over each other at this point and no clear dialogue can be ascertained aside from the following words/terms: \"Fucktard,\" \"Assclown,\" \"Shitlips,\") \n\nFA McCombs - (raised voice) SHUT THE (expletive) UP all you (expletive expletive) sons of (expletive) (unknown epitaph). Can any of you idiots fly or not?! Are you talking about (loud expletive) VIDEO GAMES?!\n\n(transcript interrupt - all passengers present begin speaking loudly at once and while they cannot reach consensus on who should assist Purser Johansen they all agree that flight simulators are not simple video games and a physical altercation ensued.)\n\nPurser Johansen disconnects the crew intercom and works with ATC to clear the air corridor ahead and successfully executed an emergency approach and landing. Rescue personnel approached the aircraft, which was intact and safely shutdown, and successfully disembarked the majority of the passengers and crew but discovered FAs Smith, McCombs and passengers J. Longren, P. Williams, R. Jones and A. Earhart in various positions in the mid-deck hold, injured or deceased, with evidence suggesting they attacked one another after failure to reach consensus. Scrawled in an unidentified red liquid on several surfaces was the term \"PCMSTRRCE\" which we have not been able to define. Suggest follow-up investigative team focus on possible cult membership.\n\nIncident report closed. \n\nEdit: Formatting, spacing. \n" ]	3
	[WP] When people die, their soul is greeted by the appropriate figure from whatever religion they subscribed to. What awaits those who believe in nothing?	[ "It took me a moment to realize I was dead. There was never a sudden rationalization of my situation or a stunning epiphany that shocked me into awareness, but more of an imperceptible drift into understanding. At one point I didn’t know I was dead, and then at another I did. It wasn’t shocking, it just was; and I don’t know how long it took to move from one state to the other, but once I had, he came for me. He told me that he’d been waiting for me and smiled a kind of knowing smile as I gawked at him in disbelief. He explained the nature of the soul, his lips forming the sentences in the same way mine would, elaborating with my same wild gestures, and using my own clumsy hands. He went on about the human spirit, my hair brushed across his forehead, his eyes reflecting my own. He talked about life and about death, casually echoing the voice I’d used for decades with my own shuddering heart and breathless lungs. Finally I could contain myself no longer and blurted out, “but, but -- you’re me!” \nHis smile widened and he replied that of course it was, who else would come to me in my moment of greatest need? \nI replied that I’d never really thought about it before, that I hadn’t seen much of a reason to believe in anything. \nHe shook his head and took a step toward me and cupped our face into our hands and met our eyes. \n“You never believed in anything because, despite everything, you’ve always believed in yourself. You had to. What else was going to do it? And I got you through life that way. We got through life that way, and together, I’ll get you through death.” \nAnd with that, he led me into the light.", "It didn't hurt like I thought. It didn't hurt at all. It was like being wrapped in the heaviest blanket. The water enveloped me. Compressed me. Filled me. The blackness closed around me and the waves above slowly quieted. This was the end.\n\nIt was like opening a safe no one had ever taken anything out of. It was like finally seeing beyond the vale of a black hole, only to realize you could never tell anyone of what you saw. \n\nIt was blackness. And then all was white. I floated lackadaisically in a fog of glowing everything. This was death. No god. No reincarnation. No nothing. Just... everything. I was floating in a soup of every idea, atom, particle, mind, being, star and universe. All was white. And then a small, small blackness\n\nWhat was it? A spot? Nothing? A blackness. A contrast. Hanging in the fullness before me. It grew. I went towards it, for it was a curiosity. \n\nI reached out into the sphere. It was truly empty. The epitome of nothing. It accepted me. It seemed to grow around me. Like stepping beyond the vale of a black hole. It filled me. Compressed me. Enveloped my whole being. It was like being wrapped in the heaviest blanket, never to return. \n\nIt didn't hurt at all." ]	2
	[WP] Death disobeys the Rules, and refuses to take a life.	[ "Another day, another deathbed.\n\n\"Oh boy, this job never gets easier. No wonder the turnover's so high,\" thought death as he stood in the dark room.\n\nDeath could hear the wind whistling outside the thin glass window, dancing with the leaves that covered the ground. The child lay calmly on the mattress, lost in sleep. Death couldn't tell how old the girl was, but then 'he' always struggled with people's ages. The list only ever contained names, nothing else. No age, description or location, just the person's name.\n\n\"I suppose that's all that matters, but still...it wouldn't hurt to have some more details.\"\n\nDeath pulled at the fabric of the tight black turtleneck, wishing it was a size larger. It looked good on his masculine frame, but didn't offer much in way of mobility. 'He' still found it strange that, despite the role being gender neutral, 'his' body had been moulded into that of a man.\n\n\"I wonder what form the next version will take. Why does death need a form anyway? I mean, isn't death just something that...happens? Traditionalists…,\" he thought. \"Though I do like the new style. The cape and scythe look is way too middle ages.\"\n\nDeath walked around the bed to get a better look at the girl's face. He'd reached the conclusion that she couldn't have been much older than five. She resembled a blank canvas, not yet tainted by the paint of the world. Her face looked healthy and hopeful, with no clear signs of pain or worry.\n\n\"This girl...what has she done to deserve death? If she's been granted the gift of life, then there's no reason to steal it from her so soon. What value is in that?\"\n\nHe looked down at the list again, hoping to see that her name was no longer on it. But it was. There was no justification for why, it just was. It struck death as odd that an explanation was never given as to why a person had to die, because it would have made the job a whole lot easier. Even Santa got to know whether someone had been naughty or nice, so why didn't he? The rules of death were clear, but maybe it was time for a change.\n\n\"A child is not born good or evil – they're just born a child. They can choose the life they live and the value they bring to the world. She deserves a chance to learn, and grow, and love. Taking her away now could rob the world of so much hope. Who am I to do that? The joy of life is greater than the pain of death, it's about time we realise that.\"\n\nHe closed the app that listed the child's name and countless others, before sliding the phone into his pocket. The girl rustled the duvet slightly as she turned over to face away from him. Death found it funny that she wasn’t aware how close she'd come to losing everything that night.\n\n\"And I hope you never do, my young friend. I hope you never do.\"\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThanks for reading my response to the prompt, I'd love to know what you think. Is it good? Does it suck? Let me know :) (if it does suck, let me know why - constructive feedback is very much appreciated)", "\"No, I won't do it.\"\n\n\"Come on. It's your job.\"\n\n\"I won't fucking do it.\"\n\n\"You know how I feel about you swearing in front of me.\"\n\n\"Oh my God.\"\n\nHe just stared at me, \"You know I don't like that. Are you really just doing things to make me angry now?\"\n\n\"Just because you're 'God,'\" I said with the most exaggerated air quotes possible, \"Doesn't mean that you can get all pissy about everything I do and say.\"\n\n\"I'm also your boss.\"\n\n\"What are you going to do? Fire me? You're funny,\" I turned to walk away.\n\n\"You need to do it... It's time. I've let you wait for long enough, she needs to go.\"\n\nI paused, bowed my head, and said quietly, \"Why do you get to decide when it's someone's time to go?\"\n\n\"I don't, that's fate. I merely just act out the will of fate.\"\n\nI sighed. I guess it is time... She's been in pain long enough...\n\n\"It'll be done by then end of the day.\"\n\nHis only response was a nod and he let me leave.\n\nOkay, so there's something you need to know about me- I wasn't born this way. I was born a man- I was a baby once, too. As you may have guessed, I wasn't the greatest man in my lifetime. Therefore, this is my afterlife. I have to take the lives of everyone: the people who were killed, people who were sick, the elderly, the young, the good, the bad, and everything in between. That is my punishment- I am forced to take the life of people who don't deserve to die. It's never easy and I never want to do it. \n\nThere was one time that I hesitated. I waited too long, the ambulance came, and they \"saved\" her... Or so they thought. She's stuck in limbo or what you guys call a coma- she should be dead but she's still breathing and her heart is pumping. Now, this is a strange state of being- you can hear the living and you can hear the dead, but you can't talk to anyone. You're paralyzed, but you're alive... for lack of a better word. As you know, sometimes people wake up from this. But here's the thing, fate is a prick. It decides who lives and who dies. When someone is in a coma and they are supposed to live, I am never called to their accident or whatever caused their coma. I never see them until it's their time. \n\nBut she, she was a fuck up. Kind of. When I arrive early and the person has yet to die, I see their life pass while it happens for them. \n\nThis woman was not just a random person, she wasn't a stranger... She was my daughter. A daughter I didn't know existed. I wasn't there for her and she suffered and I saw it all. I felt pain for the first time in a very long time. It scared me so much that I hesitated and now I couldn't even be there in death. Now, I'm forcing her to sit in limbo. Limbo sounds like it sucks, I don't know for sure- I usually don't ask. But, I might be causing her even more pain than I had when she was alive. \n\nI have to decide whether or not I'm going to do it. I know I told boss man that I was going to do it, but now that I'm staring at her beautiful face I don't know if I can. She looks just like her mother- spitting image. She was the only woman I ever loved and I messed that up by dying. I caused my own death by being a fuck up and here I am. I take lives for a living and now I have to take my daughter's. \n\nI walked over to her body and touched her hand. Her soul began to rise and come out of her body. \n\nShe looked me straight in the eye, \"You're not as scary as I thought you'd be. No scythe?\"\n\n\"That's only to scare the shit out of the bad ones, the ones that deserved to die.\"\n\nShe nodded, \"I see.\" \n\nShe went to stand up, \"Wait, don't do that.\"\n\nShe looked at me quizzically, \"Why not? I'm dead aren't I?\"\n\n\"Not quite. Once you fully exit your body, then you can never return to it.\"\n\nShe just stared. With her mother's eyes, she stared at me. \n\n\"I can't do this, I can't take you with me.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because you don't deserved to die.\"\n\n\"I don't think anyone deserves to die. No matter how bad a person is, they don't necessarily deserve to die... I lost my father and my mother told me the truth about him. He did some things, but he wasn't a bad person. He didn't deserve to die. Maybe I'm biased but I don't think anyone does, they just do.\"\n\nShe looked at me with those eyes, \"Are you crying?\"\n\n\"I- um. I... just never thought about it that way. God, I haven't cried in a very long time...\"\n\nShe sat there patiently, waiting to see what's going to happen next, as if she has all the time in the world. \n\n\"You're just like her; your eyes, your personality... everything. I could see her saying the same thing,\" I said just barely above a whisper.\n\nIt didn't phase her, \"Hi Dad. That's why you don't want to take me...\" She nodded her head, knowingly.\n\n\"I wasn't there for you, I need to be here for you now. You're my daughter... I love you.\"\n\nShe smiled and went to open her mouth to say something. Before she could, I stepped forward, put my hand on her chest, and pushed her soul back into her body. She opened her eyes and gasped for air. She was alive, really alive. \n\nOh, I'm going to be in some deep shit.", "As I fell, finally freeing myself from the prison my life had become, I had time to wonder about why my life wasn't flashing before my eyes. They always said it would. I guess I wasn't upset, my life hadn't exactly been wonderful for the past twenty years. If it had, I probably wouldn't be jumping right now.\n\n\"Hello.\" There was a voice beside me, talking in my ear in a conversational tone. At least at the end my imagination would make sure I wasn't alone. A nice hallucination to keep me company.\n\n\"Hello?\" The voice was questioning now, it's musical tone mixed into every syllable. The voice was masculine, and I opened my eyes to see an extremely handsome man standing there, well not standing exactly. More like he was falling with me, plummeting the forty stories to the pavement below. \n\n\"Uh, hello?\" I was confused, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. He was extremely well-dressed, wearing a silky grey suit and tie combination. His hair was styled perfectly, the brilliant red a contrast to his clothes and his eyes, which were deep pools of gold that shifted to silver and back to gold again. I noticed for the first time that neither his suit nor his hair were blowing in the wind of our fall. Wait, our fall. I wasn't falling anymore. I was floating, frozen about twenty feet off the ground, ready to smash face first into the concrete. \n\n\"Mary, what on Earth are you doing here?\" The handsome man knew my name apparently. Which didn't explain any of the other weirdness that was going on. Like how we were hovering in mid-air. \n\n\"I couldn't take it anymore. The abuse, the loss, the suffering. If God is so intent on me suffering on Earth, I'll just end it all.\" I could at least answer him. He seemed sad as I talked to him, shaking his head softly. \n\n\"He doesn't want you to suffer, and He certainly doesn't cause it. He lets you mortals have your free will, regardless of the consequences. Still, I agree that your life has been a bit unfair.\" He reached his hand out and took my hand, rotating me so that I was standing upright while we talked. \n\n\"Who are you?! How is this possible?!\" Seeing that I wasn't going to die yet, and that he clearly wasn't some sort of hallucination, I needed some answers. \n\n\"My name is Anziel, and I was sent here to collect you, as I do for everyone.\" He didn't seem excited about that, but resigned. \"My Father tasked me with bringing you to judgement, so he can decide where you end up.\"\n\n\"Your Father? Are you angel? Would that make him God?\" The questions were coming faster, each response generating more questions. \n\n\"You call him such. I call him Father, as I have always done. Normally I don't stop and talk to you mortals, but I have been watching you, Mary. I think your life was doomed from the start, and I think you weren't given a proper choice.\" He seemed sad again, while discussing my life. \n\n\"Yeah, well screw your Dad! This is all his fault!\" If he looked sad before, now he looked angry. I stopped myself short, deciding that ranting against his Father wouldn't be a good idea. \n\n\"No, Mary. He didn't do this to you. Your father did this, when he killed your mother and abused you. Your uncle did this when he sold you. The man you call Eric did this to you, when he beat you and threatened your sister. But never my Father, Mary. He weeps for all those who suffer as you suffer.\" Anziel also had a tear in his eye, a pool of shifting light, alternating between silver and gold in time with his eyes. \n\n\"Well why didn't he help me? Why did I have to suffer?\" I realized that I was crying too, rage and sadness overwhelming me.\n\n\"He lets you mortals do as you will, no matter who you hurt. Rest assured though Mary, when I collect them, they will not meet my Father, but will instead meet my brother.\" His face was a grim mask, fury etched on his features. \"We don't stop you mortals, we simply let you choose. When you choose poorly, we weep, and we wait. This is but one life, Mary. In that one life, they have damned themselves for eternity.\" He seemed so certain, so resolute in his anger. I now had no doubt that everyone who hurt me would get theirs, but that didn't matter now. It was too late for me. \n\n\"Thanks for that, at least. I'm glad to know they'll get theirs. Wish I could have seen it.\" I was crying freely now, not even trying to hold back my tears. \n\n\"No, Mary, you don't. My brother does not enjoy his role, but he does it very well nonetheless. It is not something that mortals should ever see.\" Anziel seemed sad again, perhaps due to his brother, perhaps still about me. \n\n\"Well, I guess that still makes me happy. You don't happen to know where I'm going, do you? To meet your Father or your brother?\" I figured it couldn't hurt to ask. \n\n\"That's why I am here, Mary. I want to give you a chance. A chance to live and be free of your cursed life. To not end it all here. I wanted to see if you truly wanted to live.\" He was quiet now, making his offer. Before I could respond, there was a rush of wings and a flash of light, and then two more extremely handsome men stood behind Anziel. Like him, they were dressed in tailored suits, one in black and the other in white. The one in black was taller, well-built and rugged, with close cropped dark hair in a stylish cut. The other was slighter and more lithe, with long white hair that fell past his shoulders. \n\n\"Brother...\" The larger of the two had a voice that was a rumble of thunder and a crashing wave. It called to me, demanded that I acknowledge him and his presence. It was the voice of a man who was used to being obeyed. \n\n\"You shouldn't have come, brothers. Father will be upset with you.\" Anziel didn't turn around to address them, still staring at me. \n\n\"Not as much as he will be with you, brother mine.\" The shorter of the two spoke in a voice like a smooth jazz song, lilting and rising. Like the larger, it forced you to acknowledge him, but instead of commanding, his voice was exciting and exotic, calling to you. \n\n\"It isn't fair, Lucifer. Why should she suffer so much here? She deserves a chance.\" Anziel sounded angry now. Wait, Lucifer? That's who the short one was? The devil? Was he here to collect me?\n\n\"That's not how it works, Anziel. You don't decide who lives and dies. You escort them to Father. You know this.\" The larger of two had a stern look in his eyes, like a disappointed parent.\n\n\"Michael, I wasn't asking permission, not from you, or from Father. She deserves the chance to choose.\" Wait, Michael? The archangel? What the hell was going on here?!\n\n\"Ummm, excuse me? What are you guys talking about? Am I going to hell? Is that why Lucifer is here?\" I tried not to sound as scared as I felt. \n\n\"No, child. That is not why he is here. He is here to help me stop our brother from making a mistake.\" Michael's voice kinder when he talked to me, but he still seemed upset.\n\n\"What mistake?\" I blurted it out without thinking. \n\n\"He wants to change something. To undo a choice made of free will, knowing that our Father would not approve.\" Lucifer was speaking now, his voice a soothing song that calmed me down. \n\n\"A choice that was forced upon her, not made of her own free will! Enough. I wasn't asking. Leave.\" Anziel sounded angry now. \n\n\"Brother, I am asking you nicely, please don't do this.\" Michael's voice was pleading now. \n\n\"Michael, Lucifer, my brothers. Please, let me do this. I have seen so many souls, and never done anything. This is my one request. Please, as a personal favor, let me do this.\" Anziel was also pleading, looking from brother to brother. \n\nLucifer leaned forward and whispered something in the ear of his brother. Michael's face hardened as Lucifer spoke and then softened. He sighed, and then nodded. He look at Anziel and nodded once, before a flash of light and rushing of wings took them from the skies. Anziel breathed a sigh of relief and turned to me. \n\n\"Would you like another chance? A do-over? A chance to live?\" He asked me now, here, 20 feet from my death. \n\n\"I don't know. How can it get better? What can I do?\" He seemed sad as I spoke, but let me finish.\n\n\"There is a man named Cael, who lives here in the city. He helps people like you. Seek him out, and he will give you hope.\"\n\n\"You promise? On your Father?\" I was scared to hope, but I did want to live.\n\n\"On my Father. Now close your eyes.\" I closed them and kept them closed until I heard the rush of wings. When I opened them, I was standing on the roof. I felt something in my hand, and when I looked down, I realized I was holding a piece of paper. On one side was a name and address, for one Cael Summers. On the back was a cursive letter A, and one word, written in curving script. \n\n\"Hope.\"", "I've seen it all. I was there during 9/11, during both world wars, during the Bubonic Plague, during Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I hate my job with a burning passion. I don't know what the Creator was thinking when he designed me, because I am definitely not fit for the job. Does he know how it feels when you point the way to the afterlife? As those souls pass me, their memories, emotions, regrets all wsh over me. Of course, after doing this for who knows how long, you start to become numb. But the feeling never really goes away. Even the evilest of people make me sympathise. \n\nOsama, I was so relieved when he died. That meant a lot less painful deaths for me to experience. But when he walked past me, I couldn't bring myself to hate him. What weighed on his mind the most was his family. He loved his family to bits. And he genuinely thought he was doing something good. I could name a lot more, but that would only bring up memories I don't want to relive.\n\nNow, before me is a rarity. A true, great evil. You wouldn't expect it. A doctor. This lowlife bastard has been respected throughout his life. His fellow doctors look up to him, his nurses respect him, his patients adore him. What they don't know, is everytime they are anaesthetized, he violates them. Male, female, it doesn't matter. He abuses his wife at home when the children aren't watching. He plans to rape his daughter when she's legal. And as he walks past me, I sense no remorse. No guilt, no regret, no longing no love for his family. The only thing on his mind is how he should've raped his daughter sooner if he knew this would happen.\n\nYou'd think this man will get his due punishment in Hell. Truth is, there is no said Hell. No Heaven too. Souls are sent to a place you would call Limbo, and spend eternity there, without feeling a single second pass. Souls aren't capable of much, you know.\n\nYou might know where I'm going with this. I need a break. Tell War, Pestilence and Famine they'll have to find another Death. I refuse to take another life. Speaking of life, that's where you come in, Life. If the Creator contacts you, tell him my story. Tell him I'm done with this masquerade. He can go find another fucking Death. Maybe that doctor, since he's so apathetic. He'll make a better Death than me. Just between you and me, I'll be hanging around birth wards. I need to experience the other side of the cycle for a change.\n\nUntil we meet again,\nDeath (formerly)", "The scene around the bed was as gloomy as you would expect a deathbed to be. The room was too bright and save the patient, there was only a solitary doctor looking over some charts. The man in the bed coughed and drew the doctor’s attention. \n\n“It doesn’t look too good” he said.\n\nSam looked up and yawned.\n\n“Well, it was dying in a bed or dying in a chair, same shit. It’s not like my life was worth living anyways”\n\n“Quite”.\n\nWith that brief exchange, the doctor left the room. It was apparent to Sam that he did not want to stay there any longer than he had to. He couldn’t blame him, not after what the news was reporting about him. \n\nHis life started like many, with his parents getting divorced when he was young. Shunted between two people that didn’t want him, he ended up leaving for the streets soon after both his parents remarried. The streets weren’t too much kinder either, and he ended up having to steal and fight to survive. Eventually, he went too far and killed after a botched robbery. \n\nHe managed to escape the result of his actions, but couldn’t shake the power that came with killing. To have that much power over another person, power that he never had during his short childhood. He started with the other homeless, and moved onto others after the community grew suspicious. By the time the police had caught him, he had murdered enough people to fill a small town. The pride he had shown in this fact when it was brought up in court, and the long list of other crimes that he was tied to ended up delivering him the worst punishment the court was capable of delivering.\n \nSam sighed and settled back into his pillows. Having his life ended, and not having to struggle anymore through life made the perfect reward for all his deeds. He lay back in pillows as fluffy as a prison hospital would allow. Enjoying the comfortable surroundings he was to die in, he thought with a smile of the eventual release of life.\n \nHe noticed a brief shadow on one of the walls. It was growing. There were no windows, nothing bigger than his bed, nothing that could be throwing such a shadow.\n\nAnd as suddenly as it appeared, it spoke.\n\nI have come for you\n\nSam tried to recollect what drugs, if any, that the doctor gave him and came up short.\n\n“What?”\n\nI have come for you, it is your time\n\nSam smiled.\n\n“About time. I was waiting”\n\nI have seen all that you are, seen all you’ve done, and seen all what you’ll do.\n\nSam straightened and looked defiantly at the ever growing black mass.\n\n“And what now, Hell? To be with the others? More people to torment, where do I sign up?”\n\nHell is much too sweet for the likes of you. \n\n“Yeah, I don’t think so. I don’t read much but even I know bad people go to hell”.\n\nHe put special emphasis on the word bad.\n\nNo, for you, much worse. Eternal life is what you deserve. No hope of happiness in Heaven. No hope of relief in Hell. You will watch everything burn, and nothing will remain but you. Suffer.\n\nAnd with those words, Sam screamed for the first time.\n" ]	5
	[WP] When you get home, your spouse always pretends to be dead.	[ "I arrive home to the kisses and loving embrace.\n\nHer ever cool touch a sharp contrast to the burning sun of the construction zone\n\nI work for her; for our lives together\n\n\nI enjoy a hearty steak; she doesn't eat\n\nShe's a vegan but we make it work\n\nI bring her to bed and we indulge in our love\n\n\nWe sleep after, succumbing to slumber\n\nI toss and turn but she sleeps silently\n\nSometimes I push her to the floor\n\nShe falls with a slump; nevermoving\nHer lifeless body remaining till morning\nOh honey. \n\n(I don't know if this is fine or not but I'm out and about and on my phone and all I have time for is this poem. I might follow it up later.)\n\n(I think I might be missing a formatting thing for this. I am not good reddit)\n", "\"Jesus Christ, Jim!\" I yell out, as I shake the blood off my sneakers and slam the front door.\n\nMy husband is lying crumpled on the floor in the front entryway, blood pooling under him. \n\nI throw the mail into the basket on the table and step over him. \n\nHe grabs my ankle and laughs. \"But that was funny though, huh? Did you think I was dead?\"\n\nI kick my foot away and snort. \"Oh yeah, totally. I thought you were a goner. Especially because you've been dead EVERY FUCKING DAY THIS YEAR!\"\n\nI shake my head and start to apologize as his face falls.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Jim. I'm sorry. It's funny. It really is.\"\n\nHe looks down at the fake blood. \"I guess I better clean this up.\"\n\nI grab his arm as he starts to walk away. \"Damn it, Jim - I didn't mean to yell. It's just been..you know..I mean..\" I trail off and he pulls away and walks to the kitchen.\n\nI follow him in and keep talking as he gets the paper towels.\n\n\"Listen. I know it's been hard not working. I can't imagine how frustrating it is. You're going to find something soon. I know this is just..you know..something to break it up. I get it. I'm really sorry I yelled.\"\n\n\nHe looks up at me and sighs. \"I was just trying to lighten the mood. I know it gets old. I'm sorry.\"\n\nHe stands up and hugs me. \n\n----\n\nIt's been a week since I yelled and every day when I get home, Jim has been alive.\n\n I walk in through the door and find him sitting on the couch, working on his computer or flipping through the TV.\n\nIt's boring.\n\nI miss when Jim was dead.\n", "It's a pain in the ass. \n\nThe first time he did it, I remember the sinking feeling in my heart when I walked in and didn't hear his usual greeting of \"Welcome home, stupid!\" or something along those lines. It's one of those love-hate relationships, really, but it's ideal because it never gets boring and beneath all of the crafty insults and blown raspberries, there is real love. Imagining the feeling of entering your home with a huge chunk missing isn't hard. He is usually home at 4pm, and I at half past, and he never goes out until I am home in case I lose my keys or break down on the way home or something. I'm so glad that he thinks of me as a klutz. Flattering. Admittedly, I was a little bit late home this time.\nHe played his game very well. First by not responding to any of my shouts, and then by the several calls I made to him via phone. He always answers the phone. Even when it's flat out of battery power, he always answers the phone. \nMy next steps were moving upstairs, checking if he'd left anything that might give me clues. Well, of course he did. Only his lifeless body on our bedroom rug, flat and motionless. When I walked into the room and saw him curled up in a fetal position, I jumped back a little like something had punched me in the chest. Like when you try to gasp for air but you can't. I thought he was just a little sick, but his total lack of response then made me think otherwise. \n\n\"You will not die on me, you little bitch.\" I yelled while trying my best to maintain a strong voice. Honestly, I felt like it was going to break at any time, though. My eyes were a little bit blurry from holding back worried tears. I turned his body so that he lay on his back and began punching his chest with my clenched fists. Immediately, his eyes opened and he started flailing his arms and legs like a tortoise on his back. Of course, I stopped when I noticed, but since I had my eyes glued shut it was only until he grabbed my arm and shoved me off him that I realised he wasn't really dead. \n\"What are you doing, you dunce?\" He saw that the tears in my eyes were about to escape, and then softened his tone, \"You okay?\"\n\n\"I could ask you the same thing, you moron.\" With a shaky voice, I tried to explain that I thought he died. It was not easy. \n\nTurns out he was being the strange specimen he is and enjoying the fluffy new rug and then fell asleep waiting for me to get home. One thing that I cannot convey is my embarrassment. For the next week I got constant comments like \"So you'd really cry if I died? How sweet!\" and \"You love me after all. Shucks, I'm blushing.\" \n\nIt only got worse when for the 2 months after that and still counting, he pretended to be dead in a different place in the house with a different cause of death. Every. Single. Day.\n\nTo his credit, though, his creativity has reached his peak. One time I came home to a puddle of red food colouring around his head with a cheap toy gun in his hand. He also hung a dummy from the ceiling, turned the lights off and hid in the cupboard under the stairs. Then there was the time he stuck a label reading \"Ecstasy\" over a pill bottle and lay on the floor with the contents spilled. \n\n\nWhen will this ever end?" ]	3
Have at thee!	[WP] In a world.... where everyone has a narrator follow them around since birth, you receive the most annoying narrator of all time.	[ "\"He flips through the pages, hungrily digesting each word.\" said a voice.\n\nIt was high-pitched and condescending so I tried my best to ignore it. I was engrossed in this new book I just got, A Game of Thrones, and I'll be damned if I let it distract me now.\n\n\"But nothing could have prepared him for the end...\" the voice continued.\n\n\"Don't you dare.\" I looked up from my book and glared into the empty space above.\n\n\"Where Ned Stark dies.\"\n\n\"ARGH! Damnit!\"\n\n---" ]	1
	[WP] A young knight must journey inside a fairy queen to fight a parasite in her body	[ "\"The parasite is growing rapidly, it is perhaps a matter of days before her majesty passes.\" A nervous look man said to the gathered group, hands rubbing over each other as he tried to keep a stern expression and not cause panic. The Feywilds was a place of great majesty, and stationed in each seat around the round table was a creature greater and more majestic then the last, from the elegant and noble Eldari - elven in appearance but with an aura far more ethereal to the bestial Ursai, with their thick builds and bear like appearance. \n\nMejai was himself an unusual creature, pale as snow and with eyes of solid black he looked vaguely of the underworld, though his short cropped black hair and thin, pointed features hinted more at his province of a creature from outside the Feywilds and its magic. \n\n\"So elf, the Queen sends you to report this?\" snorted one of the Ursai, showing open contempt for the mortal in his presence. He placed his huge, clawed hands on the table and titled his head at Mejai. The threat wasn't veiled, and arguments erupted amongst the group without fail. Some defending Mejai, others accusing, and others still arguing for some irrelevant point or another. \n\n\"ENOUGH!\" Roared Mejai, sending a wave of powerful magic which caused the table to crack and the building to shake, displaying his might for any who would challenge him. All in attendance turned quiet, as they always did when they angered the ancient lover and steward of the Queen Esme - Ice Queen of the Feywild. \n\n\"I have a mission for all of you. Find the most powerful warrior in each of the respective planes of existence you personally represent and bring them to me, they will fight to the death. The winner will be enchanted, shrunk, armed with our best equipment and sent to defeat this parasite. DO NOT fail me. If Esme dies - so will all of you.\" With that Steward Mejai turned, walking through the solid wall behind him and leaving those in attendance with not a threat, but an assurance. \n\n------\n\n\"Yo, Kev. We are going out for drinks later, you want in? Emi is coming.\" Kevin shrugged, his muscular build hidden under the thick purple sweatshirt he wore. Kevin was a plain looking man with rounded features and a short, 'shaved' Chuck Liddell style mohawk. He dressed casually, with a purple sweatshirt and slim cut grey jeans with a pair of purple converse. \"Sorry Mikey, you know I don't drink. Plus, I got training after work today.\" \n\nMikey scoffed, shaking his head and placing a hand on Kevin's shoulder. Mikey was a pretty boy, with chin length sunbleached hair and a face to be envious of. \"You are never going to get Emi if you don't hang out with us man, I can tell you are into her. But I get it man, next time I'll make some plans with no alcohol, just make time next time yeah?\" Kevin nodded to Mikey as he left, exhaling in a deep sigh once he was out of ear shot.\n\nKev was into Emi, but he knew better then to expect anything. He was terrible with women, with no interests any of them found worth mentioning and with a job so dead end only the most desperate of girls gave him anything beyond a cursory glance for his physique. Built like a boxer and training to be a fighter, Kev was chasing a dream he had no talent for. \n\nGetting on his bicycle he looked to the cloudy white sky, snow was likely today but he wasn't about to slack on training. An hour into his ride to training it began, coming down in sheets and covering the road with a swiftness he had never seen before. A blizzard so powerful he could only see white in every direction. Getting off his bike, Kev sunk into the snow far deeper then was possible. Pulling his feet from the powder soft white he looked around and was immediately in dismay. Trees. Nothing but trees and snow in every direction.\n\nKev lived in New York City. There were no trees. \"What the fuck?\" He mouthed to himself, sliding his pack of the rack on his bike and sliding it over his shoulders he walked towards the only direction with a clear path, leaving his bike behind. The moment he stepped onto the path he was surrounded. \n\nAt first glance he thought they were bears. Large, brown and ya know, bear like. But they stood on two feet, wore armor like out of his favorite videogames and each was holding a sword in a hand much too human to be a bears. \"The fuck Mikey, what did you slip me?\" Was all Kev could say, trying his best not to panic. Mikey liked his hallucinogenics and while he didn't believe he was the type to dose him, it wasn't impossible. That was his theory, until they spoke.\n\n\"Warrior Kevin Mira of Earthrealm, our Lord of the Ursai Vol has selected you to represent him. Come with us.\" The smallest of the bear men said, though small was not what he would call him. Kevin was only 5'6\", this thing was at least a foot taller, and it was with this thought, plus the swords they carried that Kev followed without question. \n\nIn what felt like minutes they cleared the white forest and arrived at a huge castle of ice, with cherry blossoms white as snow growing all around it, causing their ice like petals to dance around the castle in perpetual motion, despite a distinct lack of wind. Kev nearly gasped when he saw it, but he did his best to hide his surprise. It was likely he failed when the bear man nearest to him snorted in amusement. \n\nHe was led into a chamber just off the main entrance of the ice citadel, a cracked round table in the center of the room with empty chairs at respectful distance around it. Standing in various forms of anticipation, fear or pride were men and women of all manner of type and species. A man wearing full plate and standing at attention behind a chair, a woman with skin as blue as the sea and eyes like rolling waves relaxed in one of the chairs, a creature with the body of a man but the head of a dog sat on the floor in the lotus position, and many many others.\n\n\"Stand at attention at the seat marked with the head of a bear, when the Masters arrive say nothing unless spoken to. Oh, and don your battle attire, you look weak.\" Kev looked back at the bear man who spoke to him, arching an eyebrow. 'My battle attire? Did he mean my gloves and shorts?' Kev shrugged and removed his sweatshirt, finding the room oddly warm anyways. Sliding his bag from his shoulders he drew out a pair of snow white boxing gloves, placing them on the table he removed his tshirt, revealing a long sleeve rashguard underneath, a Japanese tattoo like design covering the white arms and back of the skin tight fabric. He removed his jeans, revealing a matching set of skin tight spats and slide on a pair of white shorts to match. Sliding the boxing gloves on his hands he turned to the bear man behind him. \"Tie these to my hands.\" Without question the huge creature did so, and Kev took position behind the seat he was told too. \n\nIn a the next few minutes creatures of all sorts strolled into the room and took their seats at the table, one dragging the blue skinned woman with eyes of the sea out of her chair. Perhaps the largest 'man' he had ever seen was his patron, over seven feet tall and likely in the thousands of pounds a white bear man took his seat in front of Kev, seated being taller then Kev was standing. He wore rich golds and purples in a thick robe covering his form, with a huge sword strapped to his hip.\n\nOver the next few minutes each patron introduced their champion. The blue skinned woman with eyes like waves crashing into shore was named Sylindra, the Knight in fullplate was Tytheon, and the Anubis like creature was known as Arashin. \n\n\"My champion is Kevin Mira of Earth Realm - a practitioner of of the hand to hand arts and the greatest warrior in potential of his realm, and therefore of all under my domain.\" Vol stated matter of fact, and Kev paled at the words. Kev could barely win a sparring match, he never placed beyond third in any regional Jiu Jitsu competition, he had been training for eight years and wasn't even a Purple belt. \n\nThe greatest warrior on all of Earth? Kevin wasn't even the greatest warrior in his own neighborhood. It was such a powerful statement, Kev barely caught the moment a man so pale he looked like a corpse walk in, all in attendance rose to their feet as he did.\n\n\"Lord Mejai, the champions have been selected. Is the arena prepared?\" One of the patrons asked, and the man known as Mejai nodded. \"Welcome, Champions. You are brought here today with a great opportunity, win these fights to the death and you'll be granted the chance to serve Mistress Esme of the Feywild, granted immortality, wealth, and your own realm to rule.\" All the champions in attendance tensed at the words 'death', but each seemed to be prepared to die. All except one.\n\nKev was visibly shaking and sweating, and the sneers and chuckles of his opponents weren't hard to hear. After much ceremony the meeting ended and Kev was ushered to his own room. \"We will provide you with superior equipment to what you have, Kevin Mira. Tell us the design you prefer, and we will replicate it but with superior materials.\" Kev was on autopilot, and without a word he handed them his extra set of spats, rashguard and shorts. He also handed them a set of shinguards and MMA style gloves. \"Keep them light, I need to be able to move more then I need to be able to block.\" He recalled saying at one point or another. They returned some hours later with beautiful, hand made examples of each. The spats and rashguard were made of the hide of a dragon, scaled but flexible and light, with a burnt orange color. The shinguards and gloves were made of a soft foam on the inside, with overlapping plates of mithril so perfectly fit they had no gaps but felt no heavier then standard.\n\n\"You can deflect a blade with the gloves, the armor will protect you from fire and acid, as well as absorb glancing slashes and thrusts, but do not rely on it.\" He recalled the short bear attendant telling him, who he later learned was named Ka. ", "The land around them was like a dream. Brilliant splashes of colorful flowers dotted the meadow and seemed to stretch out for miles. In the center of this vast open plain, a tall and sturdy tree stood, equally as bright and beautiful as its surroundings. Never in his life had Jake Lyle seen such a scene, and the view dazzled the young knight of the realm. The wind swept through his messy brown hair and the cool breeze complemented perfectly with the warm summer air on a gorgeous clear day. His amber eyes took in every detail, and it amazed Lyle that the only dreary color in sight was the dark grey chain-mail he was wearing. Well, at least his tunic, a bright shade of blue, slightly matched with his surroundings. Actually, there was another dreary color that Lyle could see. Guiding the way was a shaky old mage, simply called Fen, and he wore a brown ragged cloak. Word had reached Fen that the Fairy Queen was sick. Of what illness, Lyle hadn’t been told. So, the mage had requested for him to come, a little too forcefully as Lyle remembered, but his sense of adventure had called out to him. As soon as the request was approved by Lyle’s superiors, the young knight grabbed his gear and set off with Fen. He was a little skeptical, sure, but there was excitement to be had outside the protective walls of the city. The traveling into the unknown, this would-be mission only made the newly sworn knight wonder in anticipation. The old man, Fen, was moving quickly along. Obviously, he payed no attention to the sights around him. Fen only stopped to occasionally scold Lyle for moving so slow. “Stop gawking at the flowers and hurry up.” The mage said. “We have an appointment to keep.” \n\nAt last, they closed in on the tree centered in the meadow. There really wasn’t anything here, Lyle saw, as they approached. The young knight was confused when they came to stop. Wasn’t there supposed to be a castle here? No, wait. What was that? At the base of the tree were lights. Tiny slits that seemed like small windows. Looking closer, he saw an elegant design carved into the tree, and... were those the fairies? He saw the dancing glow of what would appear to be fireflies, if it were night, of course. Lyle never saw them until now, so he was not sure. “Is.. is this where the castle is?” A little apprehension in Lyle’s voice. “Yes,” came the simple reply from the simple mage. “How are we supposed to talk to them? How are we to help them if we..” Fen cut him off. “Here, smell this.” Fen pointed to a flower sticking out from the tree. “Uh.. okay.. If I must.” Lyle had no idea what smelling a flower would accomplish, but following the old man’s instructions was the only thing that made sense at the moment. Lyle walked up to the flower, suddenly conscious about stepping on anything small. What he didn’t know was that the fairies had magic to protect them from that sort of thing, but that was something that he would find out later. The young knight put his nose directly on top of the flower’s petals and inhaled deeply. \n\nAn intense whirlwind took Lyle by surprise, and it felt like his entire being was twisting in different directions. It lasted only for a second. Disoriented, Lyle fell to the ground. It took a moment for his eyes and sense of balance to come back to him, but what he saw had him awestruck. Lyle’s world had just gotten much, much bigger.\n\nFen had followed right behind. Appearing as if carried in by a small tornado. The shrinking process did not phase the old man. Lyle watched as Fen casually dusted himself off. It was apparent that the mage had done this many times before. “Gather yourself boy, they’re coming down to meet us.” Fen chided the young knight and gestured toward the sky. Just then, a group of fairies came down, seemingly out of nowhere. They looked every bit as human as Lyle was, if humans had wings that is. The squad of fairies were a spectacular sight in their wooden armor plating and spear like weaponry. It took a moment for Lyle to appreciate the fact that whatever spell that flower cast upon them, it made them exactly the size of a fairy. If only it gave him wings too. Lyle dispelled the wandering thought. The leader of the squad approached them. “Thank you for coming Master Fen.” The lead fairy said. Fen nodded greetings and turned toward Lyle. “This is Sir Jake Lyle, knight of the Kingdom of Wyvern, he’ll be the one helping the Queen.” Lyle placed his hand over his chest and bowed, as every knight was taught to do. Help? Me? Lyle thought. He was under the impression that he was a bodyguard for Fen, and that the mage would be the one healing the Fairy Queen. Lyle wondered what the old man meant, but he could not speculate on what a knight could do to help a sick Monarch. \n\n“We’ll make sure to escort you to the Queen as quickly as possible.” The head fairy said, and then he barked something to the others. Four of them moved, two grabbing Fen, and the other two grabbing Lyle. They lifted off without warning and shot forward with surprising speed. The young knight took the man-handling poorly. They were flying, and the sight of the ground looked ever so far away now that they were so small. Luckily, the destination was not far away. They stopped at a strange looking tulip and a friendly looking fairy greeted them. Her eyes were masked by a set of goggles. “Hey there! Welcome!” The fairy with goggles beamed. “My name is Christy! We’ll be sending you directly to our Queen.” Lyle looked toward the tree. The fairy castle looking ever so beautiful now that he was smaller. The curves of the carved wood were steep and highlighted every floor in fine detail. But they were nowhere near anything that looked like an entrance. “Excuse me, but how are we getting in there?” Lyle asked dubiously. “Oh you’ll see,” Christy giggled. “Let me help you in.” Lyle was instantly fearful when he saw the obvious looking cannon jutting out of the now fake looking tulip. They can’t possibly mean… But it was exactly what Lyle thought. He was getting into a damn cannon! Lyle tried to protest, but he reminded himself that he was a knight, and didn’t want them to think he was a coward. “Here we go!” Christy exclaimed, a little too gleefully. Lyle winced and looked toward Fen. The mage just shrugged, as if the absurdity of the moment made any sense at all. Lyle heard a bang, and rocketed forward. He prayed to the gods that these fairies didn’t just send him flying directly into a wall.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You're the god of a certain region. A believer of yours comes and asks to take someone's life.	[ "It’s nighttime on Earth and I feel the wind beat out of me. This always happen whenever somebody on Earth asks for my blessings or worse, my terrible powers. Being a god isn’t easy. Unlike the average citizen in most civilized countries, I don’t get to choose my “profession.” Plus, I am not paid anything. Instead, I reside in some greater dimension overseeing my tiny believers on a floating rock in space. At least I am an intelligent being because I am able to pick up the cultural traditions and lingo of all my believers. It’s interesting being able to observe them from time to time, seeing droves of believers driving to work from their little suburban homes and a bunch of others living in isolated villages far away from the hubbub of the metropolises. My “world” is so much more limited in that there are no cities with tall buildings or big ranches with cows. Instead, it’s colorless and devoid of pretty much anything seen on Earth. It’s impossible to explain it with human vocabulary since there are no words that near describes this place. \n\n\nAnyways, I feel distorted—scratch “the wind beat out of me” because I don’t have lungs—whenever somebody asks me for a favor. Because now is the prime time for prayers, I feel like I am about to lose consciousness. I guess this feeling of losing consciousness is attributable to my “life blood” being drawn to fulfill their prayers. Of course, what I give them is strength and I do little else to change the course of their lives. Even so, it takes a lot out of me yet this dimension has a peculiar way of keeping me “alive” despite a long long time of this draining of energy. This wave of prayers will pass after a while and it will become quiet for a while. The prayers are usually positive messages asking for help with a friend going through a lot or for strength to give to a cancer patient. I get a lot of these cancer patient prayers lately. Oh boy. It’s like an epidemic on Earth. This wave of prayers is subsiding. \n\n\nSome time passes. Yeah, I don’t have a clock so don’t ask me how much time passed. \n\n\nSuddenly, I feel tiny discomfort. It was a prayer from a believer of mine. It’s probably one of those lone ones praying at an ungodly time. Chuckles. I learned humor from Earthlings too. \n\n\nThis prayer is asking me to kill someone. I don’t feel comfortable about this. Most ill-will prayers are obscene: please make my teacher slip and break a hip, or please let my in-laws choke on food. Yes, I get life can be hard but those are simply prayers where they vent. They don’t usually mean it. But this one was peculiar. \n\n\n“Please make Tim die. Please god. Please.” Pause. I zoom down into Earth and see a poor little boy in his bedroom crying. Another one from the suburb families. He seems really upset and I also sense fear. “Please make him go away. He’s been bullying me every single day and I hate it. I am scared to go to school.” I choke up with sadness. Hearing so many prayers every “day” taught me to feel empathy for my believers. \n\n\nI give him some strength. He soon falls soundly asleep. Hopefully, the kid can brave up to the bully by consulting his parents or adults in school. I’m rooting for you, little underdog. I can’t do much else to help. Mother Earth is a force in another dimension and I can’t exactly take over her natural disasters and wield destructive powers over the Earthlings. Alright, I lied about my terrible powers in the beginning. By the way, I learned lying from my believers. If I really wanted destructive powers, I’d have to negotiate with her. Right, maybe I should. I really want to be able to make a bigger impact. Ha ha ha…oh, another prayer.", "\"I come before you today, humbled and humiliated, to ask you for one thing... I want you to kill Peter Parker!\"\n\nWell, now that came as a shock, I must say. I don't even know who this guy is making this stupid requests, nor whoever he's talking about. \n\nThis sure seems like the days for all the crazy shit to happen all at once. Here, I'll pass you this sticky crap from this other crazy dude so you learn some humility, and also so this other guy finally goes home and stops making all this noise with the bells.", "The staccato ping of stilettos on marble awakened me from my daydream. I hurriedly brushed the sandwich crumbs from my collar and swept the layer of detritus off my desk and into an empty drawer. I barely managed to close out all incriminating windows of my browser as she rounded the corner. \n\n\n\"Hi, are you... God?\" \n\n\n\"Yeah, come on in - did you have an appointment?\" \n\n\n\"No, but I just talked to the girl at the front desk and she said that you could take walk-ins today.\"\n\n\nI suddenly recalled last week's conversation with the regional demi-god. High marks for approachability, deplorable track record for accessibility. More office hours and flexibility had been prescribed. If things didn't improve by my next 20-year review, I would be off to deity remediation school. \n\n\nShe hesitated as she reached the chair opposite mine at the desk. I realized a moment too late that it was occupied by a growing mound of prayer forms that hadn't been filed since January. They were just so damn tedious, and I much preferred to meet clients face-to-face. It demonstrated a certain level of urgency and commitment that I respected.\n\n\n\"Oh sorry, let me move those.\"\n\n\nAs I settled back into my office chair (I had traded it out for the stuffy throne about 400 years ago), I finally got a chance to survey my latest supplicant. \n\n\nLate 30's, average build, approachable expression, pale green eyes with ruddy chestnut hair. Relatively attractive by human standards. She was dressed in an impeccable grey linen dress with a matching blazer. Her simple Ferragamo bag and heels subtly hinted at new money. Mascara and chapstick. No rings. Pearl studs. \n\n\n\"Well, I'm sure you know why I'm here, so let's get straight to the point. Can you do it?\"\n\n\n\"Actually, you'll have to elaborate. I'm only a senior divinity, I won't get my mind-reading clearance until I'm promoted to semi-god.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, alright then.\" Her expression momentarily clouded. \"Do you handle extermination cases?\"\n\n\n\"That's a tricky subject, I can hear your case, but I'd have to get approval from my manager.\"\n\n\n\"How long would that take?\"\n\n\n\"Not long - usually 5-10 years.\" I suddenly remembered that to a mere mortal, this was an excruciatingly long wait. \"But I could try and get him to speed things up if it's urgent.\"\n\n\n\"It is. And if you're not able to help me today, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands. I wanted to at least try the legitimate route first.\"\n\n\nShit. This was bad. I couldn't have another client ending up at the local demonic agency. Plus, their office offered massage chairs, complimentary beverages, and a full waffle bar. Nobody ever returned after a trip over there.\n\n\n\"I need you to let me go.\"\n\n\n\"You're free to leave anytime, though I'd be sad to see--\"\n\n\n\"No, I mean I want you to kill me.\"\n\n\nThis was far above my paygrade. I nervously corralled an errant gum wrapper into the drawer and waited for her to continue.\n\n\n\"I've been fighting the same battles my whole life, and I'm tired. I tried everything from yoga and antidepressants to reading and prayer. I prayed for strength, acceptance, the whole shebang. Every application was denied. They all came back saying that this was my cross to bear in life.\" \n\n\nI suddenly recalled a thick file of petitions all adorned with the same perfect signature: Claire H. Nielson. \n\n\n\"From an outsider's point of view, you would never know the agony I've dealt with for the past 20 years. My life is a simple cycle of work and sleep. I'm too tired to cry. I have no family or close relationships.\"\n\n\nShe paused momentarily. I could feel her analyzing my expression, and I struggled to maintain a non-judgmental demeanor. \n\n\n\"And all my affairs are in order: I've filed a DNR and a will that leaves everything to the church.\"\n\n\nI sighed. \"Claire - it's Claire, right?\" She nodded. \"I'm sorry, but I just can't help you. I can't overrule a special burden. Some people get physical pain, others get dysfunctional relationships, and others get mental illnesses.\"\n\n\n\"Look at my track record. I've lived a good life. No major sins, and I've already confessed all the minor infractions. I've contributed to society and left the world a better place. I just can't continue anymore.\"\n\n\n\"Claire--\"\n\n\nShe leaned forward and lowered her voice, struggling to reign in her emotion. \"Do you have any fucking idea what it's like to suffer?\"\n\n____________________________________________________\n\n\nTo whom it may concern:\n\nPlease see my official conduct report for Horoth, Senior Divinity of the 3rd Precinct. I'm sure you have already been alerted to the tragic embarrassment he brought upon my division last month. After thorough examination of the matter, I have decided to demote him to Vice-Spirit, with the option to return to secretarial work provided he performs well in your academy. I would personally recommend the following courses: Human Dignity, Justice and Mercy, and Petition Mediation. \n\nSincerely,\n\nTaurus, Demi-God of the Northeastern Empire\n ", "The God of Yorkshire looked out among the rolling hills of his land. All was well. The cows were making way for a flock of sheep,so traffic could turn around and go the other way while complaining smoothly. A thick fog on the Pennines was cutting off visibility of Lancashire. There was no trouble at t'mill w'treadle. Then the Lord looked upon then depressed face of Stanley. Stanley was being a mardy arse. He had been insult in the most horrendous way. \n\n\"Ay up Stanley\" boomed the god.\"How do all-father\" replied Stanley. \n\n\"whas the matter with thee? th' look despondent\" \n\n\"I've been wronged in the worst way there is by young Charlie from roun't' corner\"\n\n\"Did he have his way with your missus?\"\n\n\"No. Hang on tha omniscient. You should know what he did\"\n\n\"Doesn't mean I can't have some fun guessing\"\n\n\"Ah\"\n\n\"So did he hit thy dog? Pilfer your bike? Destroyed thy house?\"\n\n\"He put t'milk in first\"\n\n\"Oh Aye, yes I can see why your so annoyed\"\n\n\"Can you, um smote him? I mean if its not too much trouble\"\n\n\"Alright\"\nThe deity moved upon the mountains, down the valleys until he came to young Charlies house. With a wave of his hand He gave him grievous wounds. \"Ooh thats right gathering that is\" thought young Charlie \"Why have thy foresaken me oh Lord?\" \n\n\"you put the milk in first\" \n\n\"Fair do's\" replied Charlie as he expired." ]	4
	[WP] "I really hope you're not thinking about shooting me again!"	[ "The man looked at Desmond with wide eyes. Begging eyes. Desmond waved the gun and gestured for him to stand up. He lifted one knee, and then with a grunt pushed himself off the floor. At six foot four his head nearly touched the cellar ceiling, and the fabric of his pants was faded as if he'd been in a kneeling position plenty of times before.\n\nThe cellar always smelled old. Desmond tasted dust in the back of his throat and looked at a crack spanning one of the walls and wondered if they had used asbestos when they built it. His wool coat made his amrpits feel sticky but he didn't take it off because it would be cold outside this time of year.\n\n\"Come on, Des. It's me.\"\n\nDesmond opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come. He'd been here before, and he never knew what to say.\n\nThe man folded his arms. The sleeves of his blazer, a hand-me-down, barely touched his wrists.\n\n\"I really hope you're not thinking about shooting me again,\" he said.\n\nHe was just four feet away but his voice seemed to be coming from another planet. Desmond tried to ignore the familiar tones. He'd thought about it every way he could, but he just couldn't conjure a scenario where he didn't put another bullet in his brother's head.", "Blood seeped out from the bullet holed into my thigh, tinglingly warm. The cloth 'round the wound was getting awfully wet, and once the fluid dries the fabric would stick and would be quite a drag to remove. I suppressed a shiver, the pain would be... exquisite, and best delved upon later--now, there are more pressing matters. I felt a smile curl on my lips.\n\n\"I really hope you're not thinking about shooting me again!\" There was a bit of distance between me and my attacker, shouting had been inevitable and was VERY irritating.\n\nPain smacked me on the shoulder, sent tingles over places I'd later gladly stimulate. I laughed as pleasure soared through me, and saw my new pet step back \"tsk, tsk, tsk, I told you not to shoot me.\" My finger wagged in front of me \"Such a NAUGHTY, naughty, child you are...\"\n.\nI walked towards my lovely prey, and touched the soft skin above his neck. Golden brows were shot up, partially hidden beneath his fringe. I believe I heard a clink a while ago. He must have been surprised and had dropped his delightful little toy.\n\n\"Please\" came a plea, whispered soft from pale, pale lips.\n\nI could hear his heart beating wildly from his chest. Feel it. The smell of his fear, a perfume I shall savor with each whiff. I lean forward, both my hands gliding from his chest to his shoulders. The rush of anticipation rages through my veins. My face hovered over my prey's neck.\n\n\"Please... what?\" I whispered near an ear\n\n\"Please don't kill me.\"\n\nMy breathing shallows, the scent in the air coming more potent. I scrape a teeth on his neck, tempted to bite \"We'll see\"\n", "\"I really hope you're not planning on shooting me again. That shot in my hand still hurts!!\" I glare at the gunman, pissed off more than afraid. \"And, were I you, I'd not piss me off any more. Up till now I've let you believe you have the upper hand. But, I hold the trump card.\" The eyes behind the mask look irate and confused. \n\n\"Btch, you the one tied up an' shot cause yo' mouf!\"\n\n\"And I told you not to call me that. Really, I've been polite til now, but son, you're really starting to piss me off. And things, crazy things happen when I'm mad.\"\n\n\"You gonna make me shoot you 'gain ifn you don't shut yo mouf btch!\"\n\nI saw red. That was all it took. I looked down at the gunmans untied sneakers and imagined them tying their laces together. I know, not real mature, but...eh yolo!!\n\nHe took a step forward and lost his balance. I fought unsucessfully to keep a grin off my face. Things were just starting!! I almost laugh with glee. \"Hey, is that water running? I think it's getting on the money you were so kindly going to steal from me.\"\n\n\"Ain't no watah' running. Only thing be runnin' is yo ugly mouf.\"\n\n\"I'm serious. I can see it from here.\"\n\nI make the faucet run more open, saturating the money. Money'll dry. No problem. When he went to turn off the water, I made the handle come off in his hands. Now he was getting blasted fully in the face! YES!! Then I made a cabinet open and whap him in the head. \"Must suck, being so tall. Sooo many cabinets to run into.\"\n\n\"You doin' all this?\" he demands, the gun against my temple. \"Yes sir, and if you were to try firing that weapon at me, it wouldn't work.\" Just to show how stupid he was, the gunman tried firing it. Nothing except a click, though there was indeed a bullet in the chamber. \"Man, thas' bullsht. How you doin' this btch?\"\n\n\"That's for me to know and you not to find out,\" I said. \"Now, if you'll stay put (and you will, trust me), I must free myself and tend to my wounds. I'll just place an anonymous call to _____(insert rival gang name) and tell em where you'll be.\" \n\nAnd indeed he couldn't move so much as a muscle. As a small child, my mother hand taught me that thoughts carry power. I don't think she expected me to fully believe and become telekentic. Third robbery attempt in 3 months. Would these fckers never learn?", "\"I really hope you're not thinking about shooting me again,\" she said, dimples showing.\n\n\"Oh come on, it was one time!\"\n\n\"Makes for the best 'how did you two meet' story ever,\" said Serena. \n\nI pushed her into the bushes lining the sidewalk, laughing. When she righted herself with a huff, we heard murmurs ahead grow louder. Both of our right hands flew to holsters. \n\nI gave her a quick kiss before drawing. \n\n**\n\n/r/Hermione_Grangest" ]	4
	[WP] You and your team have been tracking a dangerous mad scientist for years when he abruptly makes contact. He's willing to surrender himself to your custody and answer for all of his crimes, just so long as you kill the creature that escaped from his lab.	[ "\"You've got five seconds,\" Catherine said, setting down her sidearm and finally turning on the lights. Her apartment was in disarray, the kind of neglect that only comes from working fifteen hour days for the FBI and coming home with another box of cheap takeout from the store on the corner where the geriatric owner constantly asks you why you don't want to go out with his son. But tonight a new chaos had joined the fray.\n\nMasters sat before her, hand caught partway through a trashy noir novel she'd started reading on a stakeout and hadn't yet finished. It was the normal story, a dame in distress, needing the help of an alcoholic washup to find... what? What was the falcon in that one. It didn't matter. All that mattered right now was the monster sitting on her couch.\n\n\"I want protection.\"\n\n\"Use a condom.\"\n\n\"You don't understand. I'm being hunted.\"\n\nHer phone buzzed, maybe ten minutes until SRT could make it out to her apartment. Plenty of time to get the answers she wanted.\n\n\"Hunt's over Masters.\"\n\n\"You fool, you simple simple fool!\"\n\n\"Stop it. What's going on? What have you done?\"\n\n\"It was perfect, it was so perfect, like an angel, trapped in the body of a child.\" Masters wrung his hands in front of him, fidgeting. \"So perfect.\n\n\"And then it grew and learnt, faster than I could teach it. I tried to sell her when she was old enough. A warlord wanted her spirit but she fought. A week after they left she found me again. A thousand miles apart and she had covered it in blood.\n\n\"I tried again. I've tried everything. She tracks me. I don't know how, nothing I spliced could have given her that... aptitude.\"\n\n\"Then why are you scared Masters?\" Catherine asked.\n\n\"When she found me last, the cancers had begun to spread. She wasn't never meant to last more than a few months, a year at most. Her body is deteriorating. I can see it in the palsy when she holds a blade.\"\n\n\"And she holds you responsible?\"\n\n\"No,\" Masters nearly cried. \"She wants me to join her. She wants to die, with me.\"\n\n\"Seems fitting.\"\n\nMasters stood and held out his hands.\n\n\"Please, I can't run anymore. She's getting desperate. If she finds me again...\"\n\nThe rain rattled at the windows. It took Catherine a moment to realise it wasn't raining when she got home. It hadn't rained in days. The rattling became incessant.\n\n\"Oh no,\" Masters wept.", "Ramirez couldn't believe it. Six years of horrific abominations, sinister chemical weapons, attempted supersoldiers and murderous androids, and his team had almost nothing to show for it. They were supposed to be the best of the best, the top field agents and law enforcement officials in the world and they had been repeatedly humiliated by one madman calling himself a scientist. And that madman had just settled down next to him in the crappy dive Esteban Ramirez was planning on getting shitfaced in. \n\nGoetz signaled the bartender and said, \"Johnnie Walker Green.\" He turned to Esteban and said, \"Hello, Special Agent Ramirez, I don't think we've met face to face. Don't draw your weapon, I surrender.\" The bartender returned with his drink and he downed it in one gulp. He signaled for another and downed that one as well. \n\nRamirez was beyond shocked. This was the absolute last thing he expected would happen. He was more likely to get lucky with Chastain and Reid at this point than see Goetz turn himself in when he was making such fools of them all. He was so stunned that he didn’t say anything for a few seconds; Ramirez hadn’t ruled out the possibility yet that he’d gone insane himself. \n\nAnd yet here he was. Derek Peter Goetz, in the flesh, drinking with him in a shitty dive in a town in the middle of nowhere. The man’s normally luxurious black hair was shot through with gray and it looked as if he hadn’t washed it in at least a week. His clothes were the same as always: green coat, dark brown khakis and a pair of untied tennis shoes. It was almost as if Goetz was taunting Ramirez. \nAnd then there was that statement. Surrendering? As if the man had any idea what that meant. Goetz had killed millions of people. He would be tried and convicted for crimes against humanity. If The Hague could sentence him to capital punishment it would, that’s how reprehensible the world found his crimes. \n\n“You’re wondering why I’m doing this, aren’t you Ramirez,” Goetz said, looking down. His greasy hair hung low so his face was obscured.\n\n“I’m not even sure this is you,” Ramirez said. “Prove to me you aren’t a clone or an android. How do I know you’re not going to kill my entire team with some suicide nuclear bomb the moment I bring you in?”\n\nGoetz laughed. It was laced with something Ramirez couldn’t identify. “Agent, if I wanted your team dead I would’ve killed you all a long time ago. I can’t prove that I’m not a clone but feel free to pistol whip me if you want to see me bleed. God knows I deserve it.”\n\nAt that Ramirez laughed. “You’re acknowledging a higher power than yourself? If that doesn’t prove you’re not Goetz-”\n\nWithout looking up Goetz growled. Ramirez jumped back and pointed his gun at the Mad Scientist. What few people there were in the bar screamed and ran out the doors, bartender included. \n“What are you, some kind of fucking werewolf?” Ramirez yelled. \n\n“No,” Goetz said as he leaned forward and plucked a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar. He yanked the pourer off and took several long pulls from the bottle. When he was finished nearly a third of the bottle was gone. \n\nGoetz turned and looked at Ramirez very slowly, and when Ramirez saw the man’s face clearly he knew what else had been in that laugh. Goetz’s brilliant green eyes were glassy and bloodshot, but within them was something Ramirez recognized all too well. He saw it in the faces of the younger agents that worked under him and his team. He saw it in the members of his team and especially in the mirror when he was at his worst. \n\nFear. The kind of primal terror that Goetz worked so hard to imbue in his many experiments while laughing gleefully at the destruction they wrought. That same terror was written all over his face; but what truly sent pangs of icy panic through Ramirez was the broken smile Goetz was wearing as he spoke.\n\n“I’m not a monster,” he said. “I’m something much worse. I’m a man. I’m a man who played God. And lost. Big time.” He drained another third of the bottle before slamming his head against the bar with a bang. \n\nWhen Goetz didn’t move for a minute, Ramirez lowered his gun and pulled out his phone. He called HQ on the non-emergency line and it was Reid that picked up. \n\n“Ramirez? What do you need?” Her voice rang in his head like a bell. \n\n“Reid, you’re not gonna believe this. Cuz I still don’t,” Ramirez said. \n\n“Why?” She sounded hesitant. “What’s going on?”\n\n“I’ve probably killed us all,” Goetz yelled. Without warning he turned around and whipped the bottle at the wall. The crash was probably loud enough to be heard through the phone. “Is there any pizza or something at wherever Redhead is? Cuz I just drank way too much.” Goetz tried to stand but stumbled and fell against the door. \n" ]	2
	[WP] During his funeral, you can't help to think how sad your dad was and how he never amounted to anything... until the president shows up.	[ "It all happened quite quickly after Dad died. We knew it had been coming, as we were told the cancer had been terminal a few months ago. His wishes had already been set out weeks beforehand; the memorial service would take place in our back garden, followed by a private cremation at the crematorium a couple of hours away. They were the conditions he wanted to go out on, and so they were fulfilled.\n\nThe expected phone calls and flowers soon followed. Dad had been pretty active since he retired 10 years ago, organising numerous charity events as well as sponsoring some kids sports teams in the area. He had saved up quite a bit of money by investing as a side project to his own job, where he worked for the government by recruiting potential IT advisor's to government divisions.\n\nMy Dad was always ahead of his time. In the early 70's, when he returned from his service in Vietnam, he applied to study Computer Science and received his degree 4 years later, meeting my mother along the way. Soon after they got married, my older sister came along and then there was me. We were the standard American family. My mother stayed at home and looked after both me and my sister, while my Dad would go to work all day, leaving for business trips every few months also. He was always someone I looked up to and admired, for when I was younger, I loved how he was always so happy when he would come home from work, instead of looking so angry like some of my friend's Dad's. He would always find the time to play with me when he could, whether it was reading me a bedtime story or taking me to the movies. \n\nThis side of my Dad quite visibly changed when he retired. He didn't seem as active as he used to, considering he was still quite young at 52. His reason for retirement was being too stressed at work, and being away so much, but yet he seemed a lot more miserable when he was at home. He would read his newspaper each morning, followed by his morning walk with the dog, and then maybe work a bit on some DIY projects he had taken up in the garage. I would never see him go for a morning jog anymore, or even go for a day out with my mother to the beach. \n\nOver the years this mentality progressed, and when he got his diagnosis, I think a sense of relief came over him. Since he had retired, he felt like he had just been waiting to die. The last few months were still quite hard. I loved my Dad, even though his sadness was a constant over the last few years of his life. It was strange to see how he was so unhappy doing the same things in his later years, when he had maintained the exact same job for almost 30.\n\nThe day of the memorial service had started quite strangely. Our house had been kept private since his death, as he had been resting at the local funeral home. I stumbled tiredly downstairs to my mother in quiet conversation with two tall, lean men in black suits. Upon my arrival, they thanked my mother for her coffee and offered their condolences to me on their way out.\n\n\"What was that about?\" I yawned, still half asleep.\n\n\"Oh, it was just associates of your father's, making arrangements for the memorial service later is all\" she replied.\n\nI didn't think much of it, I hadn't known much about my Dad's professional life other than he worked over an hour away and would often have to go on business trips. I never really asked him what he did either, as the world of IT never really appealed to me as a writer. \n\n**\n\nIt was a day that reflected my Dad's attitude to life in his later years. We sat out in the garden with about 70 members of my family and friends, underneath a clouded sky with a faint hint of light from the sun. I had prepared the eulogy a week before he had died, and had read it to him a few days before he passed. It was a happy feeling to know that he approved of what I was about to say about him, considering he had been such an influence to me.\n\nI then heard doors closing from the front of our house, quite a number of doors closing in fact. Then followed a number of voices talking, when suddenly one of the men from earlier came through the side entrance before saying just one word.\n\n\"Clear\".\n\nAt that moment, a sense of shock came over me. President Obama, along with President Clinton, were walking their way up our garden to fill the empty seats at the top of the aisle. My sister was in the same state of confusion as I was, yet my mother seemed quite calm, as if she was greeting them in an expected fashion. It was then when it hit me. The two men had been there this morning to organise the arrival of two such people. But still, why would they come to this service? How would my Dad have been so important that the President and an ex-President would attend?\n\nI delivered the eulogy shortly thereafter, speaking of how I learned to grow into manhood by my father, by always being told to be whoever I wanted to be. It was then all of it dawned on me. My father had never been a simple IT advisor. He had to keep whatever work he did from me and my sister, so that we would not have been able to share his secret.\n\nPresident Obama then spoke, outlining how valued he was as a public servant to the country, in both Vietnam and then in his role with the Government. It turned out that he had been the head of numerous divisions of the military which focused on infiltrating enemies through their technology. He had been one of the earliest hackers. \n\nThe whole thing was a shock, but I still could not understand why he could not have told me this on his deathbed. I am not sure whether it is okay to live your life as a lie as long as it makes you okay, which is a question I will keep asking forever.", "\"I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss.\" \n\"Thank you, Mr...?\" \n\"Hanson. Terry Hanson.\" \n\"Thank you, Mr. Hanson. How did you know my father?\" \n\"I'm president of our fantasy football league, here in Winnipeg. I, uh, actually run the entire Western Canadian division of the league.\" \n\"I see. I have to admit, I did not know that. I didn't even know my father was a member of a fantasy football league.\" \n\"Oh, yes, he was a huge participant, and had been since the early days....you would have been just a baby then, I think.\" \n\"Ah.\" \n\"Anyway, I just wanted to pay my respects. He was a good man, and we all miss him.\" \n\"Thank you very much. I appreciate your taking the time to come out today.\" \n\"No worries If there's anything I can do...?\" \n\"I'll be sure to be in touch if there is. Thanks again for coming.\" \n\"Yeah.\" He briefly shook my hand.* \"Again, I'm so sorry to hear he'd passed on.\" \nI nodded as he turned and slowly walked away." ]	2
	[WP] You're on vacation and find a bug in your room. You retell the story to your friends and family as if you encountered a monster of epic proportions.	[ "\"I looked up. Eyes stared back at me, inhuman eyes, pinning me where I lay. It crouched above me, it's head unnaturally turned on its axis to observe my terror. I couldn't move. I knew in my soul that one movement and it would be on me. With a great wrench I summoned my courage and leapt from the bed, pulling the covers after me in an echo of my childhood- the monsters can't reach you under the blanket. \n\n\nI whirled to keep the beast in view as I fled, certain that losing sight of it would seal my impending doom. In the next instant my fear was proved sound as my opponent plummeted to where my head had recently lain. Swift as I could scurry, I approached the bed and hurled the blanket down, trapping my foe and delivering righteous anger through the medium of my flailing fists.\n\n\nAll was still. My triumph assured yet my stomach weak, I tentatively lifted my trap of choice and surveyed the wreckage of my bed. Blood showed bright against the linen, and a slowly twitching leg held the last of evil's defiance. The beast was slain, and I was safe again.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"Dude... you have GOT to get therapy. This arachnophobia is getting ridiculous.\"" ]	1
	[WP] With a heavy, broken heart you leave the city for a new start in a small fishing town in Rhode Island. The town, though quaint and beautiful houses a great evil that will alter human life as we know it.	[ "I drove past the town sign that stated how many people legally resided there and I took a deep breath as I started to familiarize myself with my new residence. There were factories and a small brewery, several ma and pa retail stores along the main drag, a few bars and the sound of a cannon ball ripping through the engine of my rented moving truck. With no control over the truck it careened off of the road and smacked into a tree. I could hear more cannon balls being fired and, dazed and bloody, I stepped out of the truck to see where this fighting was coming from and to my amazement some whacko turned his car into a pirate ship and was sword fighting with another pirate as they careened down the road. I should have left the moving van where it was and just left this place; however, I had already paid my security deposit and first and last months rent on a new place and I couldn't just burn that money. \n\n\nAfter I left the hospital I contacted the insurance company and they said that I was in a zero claim zone. I asked them what that meant and they said that after the Y2K incident all insurance policies are void at this particular zipcode unless it is specifically requested. After getting the run-about for a few more minutes I told them that they could specifically go fuck themselves. I hung up the phone and I called the truck rental shop.\n\n\nThirty seconds into explaining what happened they informed me that they were charging my credit card $10,000 for the ruined truck. I hung up the phone, found a card with my credit information in it and called the company.\n\n\n\"Cancel! Cancel my card!\"\n\n\n\"Ok sir, I just need to verify your name.\"\n\n\nI gave it to them.\n\n\n\"Your address.\"\n\n\nI gave it to them.\n\n\n\"Your social security number.\"\n\n\nI gave it to them.\n\n\n\"Your four digit pin.\"\n\n\nI gave it to them.\n\n\n\"Ok, you card is now canceled.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, thank God!\" \n\n\n\"However, you have a remaining balance of $15,150.00 that you will be billed for - would like to set up a payment plan?\"\n\n\n\"WHAT? My balance should only be for $150.00!\"\n\n\n\"Well sir, it looks like you've been charged $15,000.00 for a rental truck.\"\n\n\nI gave it to them, \"You slow ass son of a bitching motherfucker! I know damn well that when I call my phone number is linked up to my account and it instantly comes up on your computer screen! You knew you were talking to me and you knew what I wanted, but nooooooo, you just had to take your sweet, lazy, motherfuc-\".\n\n\n\"Sir, this is the shift supervisor, please calm down.\"\n\n\nOh, hell no. I hung up my phone and then turned it off. Well shit, I need to at least get my stuff and then I saw this young... person walking towards me.\n\n\n\"Excuse me,\" I started. Should I say miss or mister I wondered; ah, skip the formalities. \"Excuse me, where is the police station?\"\n\n\n\"It's just a three blocks south, take a left and then walk four more blocks,\" the person said. \n\n\nI said thank you and began to go my way but this person decided to follow me. After the first block I picked up my pace and realized that this individual was doing the same. I tried not to look behind me and as soon as I turned the corner I ran as hard as I could to get to the police station. At full speed I sprinted two blocks and then I dared to look behind me and I tripped over my own feet as I saw that they were right behind me. I hit the concrete and rolled into a trashcan - spilling the contents all over me - and then I jumped up and prepared to defend myself.\n\n\n\"WHAT! WHY ARE YOU CHASING ME!\" I screamed.\n\n\nThis person stopped in front of me and keeled over to catch their breath and then in the most polite voice I've ever heard they said, \"You're going the wrong way.\"\n\n\n\"Oh, haha, thank you. I'm such a fool, it's been a terrible day for me.\"\n\n\n\"That's ok, are you new here?\"\n\n\n\"Well, I did go the wrong way after asking you for directions, didn't I?\"\n\n\nWe laughed at my silliness and then this person offered me a card with a wink, \"Here's my contact information in case you want someone to show you around.\"\n\n\nI read the number and flipped it over and it appeared there was a naked picture of her grandmother-father-something. Not wanting to make yet another scene I swallowed my bile, put the card in my pocket, thanked the person one last time and walked towards the police station.\n\n\nMan, fuck the police. I got there and asked where it had been towed and they said that all of my stuff had been confiscated and was the property of the city because I was littering. ", "I thought it was a cat. It certainly looked like one. You get them all over fishing towns, fat from fish heads, with flat ears and yellow eyes. This one was squatting over something I couldn't quite see. Probably a sparrow or something needing to be put out of its mystery. I tried to shoo the cat away, but it just sat there watching me. \n\nAs I got closer the cat didn't move. Nor did its prey. It was only when I was couple feet away that I realized what the cat had pinned under its paw was an eye. \n\n-----\n\nI'd ended up in Sawchuck after the divorce. I didn't fish. I didn't love the sea. But she wasn't there, and that was enough for me. The first thing you notice about Sawchuck is that it looked like a postcard of a fishing town. Old sheds on the beach hung with nets, sailboats, grey and wooden, anchored off the shore, and bearded men with knit caps free of irony. \n\nAnd cats. The second thing you notice about Sawchuck is cats. Sitting on eaves, crossing streets, coming and going where ever they please. They walked as if they owned the place. \n\nMy first night at the tavern I was at the bar eating a very disappointing fried fish. Five bites in and I knew I was not going to finish it. I picked a piece off and flicked it to one of the many cats wandering by the fireplace. Or at least I tried to. A hand slapped mine before I could get the fish out.\n\nI looked at the old bar maid.\n\n\"Sorry sir. We do not feed the cats.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because they might take an interest.\"\n\n\"What does that mean?\" I asked.\n\nShe gave the slightest of nods. I looked back towards the fireplace. Every single cat was watching us, head pitched to the same side. One cat watching you is unremarkable. Twelve is disarming.\n\n\"Best finish your plate sir.\" She said.\n\nI did, left cash, and very carefully did not look back to the cats as I exited.\n\n-----------------\n\nMary Katherine was missing a week later. She was 13. Sawchuck only has one policeman. But the entire town went looking that night, myself included. We crossed the whole town, from shore to village, in a line. Every blade of grass was bent, every darkness lit. But as we reached the edge of the village we slowed. Our light reflected yellow. At first I saw just a few pairs of eyes. Then a dozen. Then so many that counting was madness. The entire line, with not a word, turned their lights off and backed up to the village.\n\nI froze, my light fixed on innumerable yellow cat's eyes. A girl was missing, with brown hair and hazel eyes and so few years spent. And we had all stopped. I felt every yellow eye on me. And then I hand on my shoulder. I did not jump. I shook.\n\nIt was the old barmaid again.\n\n\"Let's go dear.\" She said. \"You don't want them to take an interest.\"\n\n---------\n\nAn eye removed from its home is an odd thing. You really see so little when it is where it belongs. There is a meaty bit on the back, and what looks like a pearl onion, streaked with red. And then the hazel iris. \n\nThere was a purring. Not the kind that you get when you pet a tabby. Some sort of primal hum. It made every hair on my body stand on end. I thought about running, but in Sawchuck there was nowhere to run when they took an interest.\n\n", "(Part1)\n\nMy name is unimportant and you won't remember it. I'm older than I say I am and now one believes me anyway. I came to a small town in Rhode Island because there was a cheap property for sale and my ex wife took most of my shit.\n\n\"You look like a fucking jew if I ever saw one.\" Said the Sherrif as I met them at the town limits.\n\nHis deputy looked up at him and then said back to me \"Don't mind him he's struggling to handle issues with his repressed sexuality and fears of inadequacy.\"\n\nThe Sherrif gave a defeated \"Yeah.\" And then sort of apologized. \"What she said is probably true. I still want to break your fucking kike nose though.\"\n\n\"We're very honest around here. You probably won't get used to it. I hate it.\" The deputy answered as she helped me unload my things. She had a sort of grin on her face, more like she enjoyed hating the town than she enjoyed the town itself. \n\n\"I think it's quaint,\" I said as politely as I could.\n\nThe deputy just dropped my box of blu rays to the curb and looked straight at me as if....well as if my first words to her were to call her a fucking jew I suppose. \"Don't lie.\"\n\n\"You've got a week from right now to stop that.\" The Sherrif said. He was calmer now, with the authoritarian but not necessarily aggressive tone I would have expected from a Sherrif. \n\nMy first week went by quickly enough. Mostly I stayed in my new townhouse in the town center and I only left when I had to go to work at the town clinic.\n\nIt was at the general store that I tripped it. I walked up the aisles to the counter and began handing the checkout girl my groceries.\n\n\"Say, you're the guy who refilled my gonorrhea meds.\" She said in a warm how's-the-weather tone. \"Whadaya do for fun.\" She slid into an oddly flirty voice considering we both knew what state she was in.\n\n\"Well I'm a writer, part time. I actually came her to find a bit of inspiration\" I answered and rubbed at the thick stubble of my beard. What the hell, she was hot and I'd just bought condoms. \n\nShe looked over her shoulders to the town priest and then asked, \"Do you ever think you'll make something out of it?\"\n\nI gave her a cool smile and put down my money. \"Yeah. Any day now\" \n\n\"Oh boy, you just didn't listen to the Sherrif did you.\" The priest said. \"I can tell that's a lie from a mile away.\"\n\n\"So what if it is?\" I harrumphed. \n\n\"You should come back to the church with me. I'll show you why.\" \n\n(Part 1)", "(Part 2)\n\nI reared up over the small, hobbled man \"Not gonna fucking happen old man.\"\n\n\"It's for your own good.\" The checkout girl said as she bagged my stuff behind me and rang up the price. There was something calming about that, the way she still gave me my groceries. Helped me believe I'd live long enough to use them. \n\n\"Yeah sure, and then you cut out my heart and feed it to some kid in the basement that thinks he's the antichrist or something.\" I answered and looked to the exit. There were no massing townsfolk, no Sherrif with his gun drawn, just my old jeep parked up and waiting for me.\n\n\"Has anyone in this town been anything but honest to you?\" The old priest asked. \"I'm sixty five, I have a fake leg and an artificial hip....in the other leg for christ's sake. I think you can handle it.\" \n\n\"Fine, but I'm taking my car.\" I demanded and trod hopped into the seat. \n\nThe priest got into his old Studebaker and led the way to the church on the edge of town. I was expecting a run down colonial thing with an ancient graveyard and something watching me from the belltower. Instead, it looked like a WW2 era community centre with a steeple. It had big glass windows and inside all I could see was a lot of ikea furniture and secondhand books. \n\nThings grew a bit uncertain as he led me through the main corridor to a basement door at the end. There was a bookshelf next to it. Before I knew it he had pulled a baseball bat from behind it and turned to me. \n\n\"Here.\" He said, and pointed it grip first towards me. \"Most of the people feel more comfortable facing the unknown if they can defend themselves. I know I did.\" I snatched up the bat and felt thewight of it. It was alluminum with a wrapped grip. I would have preferred a gun at that moment but it still helped.\n\nHe opened the door leading down to the basement and turned on the lights. He propped the basement door open and walked down first, hobbling one step at a time and gripping the railing all the while. \n\nWhen we got down to the basement he flicked on more lights. We were in a small foyer room adjoined to a room with jagged irregular ridges like an anechoic chamber. A pair of windows allowed me to see through to it. Inside was a folding metal chair, a metal table with two large metal boxes. Behind the boxes was a series of magnifying lenses like the kind someone might use to write on a grain of sand, there was alsoa mic that connected to a small desk by one of the windows in the foyer room. \n\n\"I need you to go in there, my friend. You can take the bat\" He answered with a small smile. \n\n\"Why just me?\" I asked cagily. I could still see daylight from the stairwell behind us.\n\n\"Because it won't work with two people in there and I've already seen enough.\" The priest answered wearily.\n\n\"I don't like this.\"\n\n\"And I don't like having to walk every fucking idiot who moves here down to the goddamn basement and have them accuse me of being a rapist, murderer or cult leader every goddamn time!\" He snapped. His indignation was heartfelt and when it passed there was just a tired old man. \"Please, just go in there. Look,take out your phone and check for a signal, just send someone a message saying where you are and to call the police if you don't check back in twenty four hours or something.\"\n\nI couldn't must much of an argument so I just complied. I pulled out my phone and messaged my mother. I told her I was just going on a night out and I knew I tended to over drink. She told me to stay safe and she told me she loved me. The last message sent successfully and then I pocketed my phone. \"I'm sorry, sir.\" I said and then walked into the chamber.\n\n(Part 2)", "(Part 3)\n\nThe first thing I noticed was the noise. An Omm. I new from a few college girlfriends that the Omm was supposed to be the first sound in the universe, the fundamental noise of creation. And it filled the air. I looked back to the priest. He was sipping on a juice box with his head away from the mike. He was ever one hell of a ventriloquist or it really was coming from the two boxes.\n\nI sat down at the desk when the priest's voice made me jump. It was quiet, it did not shout nor get lost over the sound of the Omm. I realized that as pervasive, as smothering as the noise was it had seemingly no volume at all. \"There are large stone cubes in each box, please remove one or both of them and use the magnifying set to read them.\" He explained.\n\nI opened the box and pulled them out. They were about a square foot on each side and scribbled with writing that only looked like English if you looked straight at it. Otherwise, it looked like little circles with various numbers of dots, like simplified atoms. The writing was arranged in a grid shape and filled in with gold.\n\nI began to read it, the top left entry in the top left box. \"I love you-Margret Cohen\"It read, I muttered it into the open mic. \"That was my mother's name.\" \n\n\"Oh God I'm so sorry.\" The priest said. \"Look I really wish I didn't have to tell you this, but I have to. What you're looking at are The Books of Twin Evil. They record lies. Or rather untruths. They don't just know if someone's lying they know if something is untrue.\" He reported. \n\nI began to put the facts together and muttered out as an afterthought, \"Why does it have my mom's name on it.\"\n\n\"I could say the sky is purple, fully believing it and the stones would still record it.\" He continued like he hadn't heard me.\n\n\"Why is my mom's name on the fucking stone!\"\n\n\"The Books of Twin Evil records every lie in your life. The white one records every lie you've ever told, and the black one records every lie anyone ever told you.\" The priest reported. \n\n\"My mom never loved me.\" I whispered. I think a lot of people fear that their parents didn't love them. I suppose some people know it but as I sat there finding out that a life time of love was just a platitude I felt like the newest loser in the world.\n\n\"She probably wanted to. She probably believed it. I believed I loved all the people I said it to but that damn white stone says I never loved anyone.\"\n\nI started reading through the black stone. 'I love you' came up with immense frequency and variety. So did things like 'You were destined for great things'\nand my absolute favorite 'You're better than this.' \n\nI read each side of the black stone and then when I came back to the first side there was new writing. I sat at that table repeating some of what I had read to the priest. When it was over when I had seen every horrible little lie that had been said to me I was on the edge of tears. \n\n\"Wh-wh-why would you try to live like this.\" My voice was a wisper, I didn't dare to raise it higher lest it run away into outright sobbing. \n\n\"Think about it boy,to know if something is untrue that must mean they know what is true, every single truth there is to know. They must be essentially omniscient. My church and I believe that they're a fragment of God. We believe that they're there to punish us for lying and to prepare us for paradise, for the world without lies. \n\nI attempted one last discovery, after today I didn't much care about the answer. \"There is a God.\" I declared into the room, and then switched to the white stone. I cast the magnifying glass over to the top left corner, the newest section. It was written in the circle-language that the first priests had puzzled over so long ago. No cryptogropher, no linguist, no scientist had ever figured out what they said and nor have I.\n\nIn the weeks that followed I found a new purpose, besides being a small town pharmascy assistant. The priest is old and weary, he grows tired of having to oversee these awful little rituals. I've agreed to become his disciple, to learn how to handle the stones, how to see other people's lies, how to guide people to them like I was guided. It began as a sad, desperate need to learn how to cope with a world where I know how much of everything we say to eachother is a lie. The priest knew that, of course but he saw something in me.Well actually he was desperate to retire and he thought I was good enough for the job. \n\nI take my vows tomorrow. \n\nThey say the truth will set you free. I don't feel free.\n\n(Final)", "The salty sea air had always driven Scott's blues away. He carried his tackle box and camping chair to an empty pier while it was still dark outside. He crossed some sand and walked the long, lonely planks to the edge. He set up his kit and sat in his chair. He cast his line in the water and waited. \n\nThere was something about watching the water gave birth to the sun that reminded him, more acutely, that life goes on. No matter what, the world keeps moving.\n\nWith the beach behind him, and the new day ahead, the horizon began to differentiate from the water. Slowly at first, with dusky pastels. Then the ocean became clearly delineated from the sky. It got brighter until finally, sun rays began to peek over the tops of the waves.\n\nScott put his sunglasses on. He reeled in his line, and cast it back out, not catching anything. That was fine. Fishing wasn't about catching fish. It was about sitting alone, quietly trying to sort out the tangled knots that made up existence. As if, maybe he would reel in some understanding as he turned the handle.\n\nHe began packing up his kit as the bottom of the sun was free from the edge of the ocean. He turned to walk the long pier back to the beach, down a few streets back to his new house. Just a house, not a home. He'd never have a home again.\n\nAs he walked, he noticed many people on the beach. They were leaving, as though they'd been there. It was dark when he arrived, but he was fairly certain nobody was there. Were they camping? Night fishing? They didn't carry any gear. Girls in bikinis and short shorts smiled and tossed their hair with satisfied laughs. Men in tank tops and cargo shorts fist pumped as they made their way back home. \n\nStrange, he thought. They are all covered in sand as though they slept in it. Maybe they did.\n\nHe kept walking, trying to mind his own business. Then he saw something he couldn't just dismiss. A young man sat up, from laying in the sand, Scott assumed. He was covered in it, as though he'd been buried. \n\nWhat a weird... hazing ritual maybe? Scott slowed his pace to make sure the kid was okay.\n\nHe hugged his knees, and wiped sand from his face as he gasped for breath. He shook sand out of his hair. \n\nScott smelled a faint scent of burning embers, like campfires had been going all night. There definitely weren't any campfires on the beach when he arrived. He looked around, seeing the beach had been mostly cleared of people.\n\n\"You okay, kid?\" He called out to him.\n\nThe young man seemed startled and looked around before finding Scott on the pier a few yards away.\n\n\"Were you there?\" He asked. \n\n\"Uh, yeah, I was just doing some sunrise fishing on the pier...\" Scott answered.\n\nThe kid looked at the pier as if he just noticed it, and was maybe a little confused about where he was.\n\n\"Do you live near here?\" Scott asked him, getting more concerned.\n\nThe kid stood up and brushed off more sand.\n\n\"I'm alright, man, thanks...\" He said as he jogged away, leaving a trail of sand on the road behind him.\n\nScott thought about it all day. Kids always have parties on the beach, it was probably nothing to worry about. Anyway, that kid seemed fine. We all had those mornings.\n\nScott returned to fish almost every morning, and it was always the same deal. He began using his flashlight to check the beach before going out to the pier. Never saw anyone until after dawn. It started to bother him. \n\nHe became more interested in the revelers than fishing into the rising sun. He would turn around as soon as there was enough light to see. It always just looked like people sitting up from laying in the sand. He was nearly positive they weren't there before. It was a big beach. He couldn't comb it completely in the dark to be sure there was nobody there before.\n\nThen Scott started noticing other strange things about the otherwise idyllic town. People were really tan. It was a coastal town, yeah, but everyone had such bronze skin. Not like a bad spray tan, or an ethnic person with naturally dark skin. They weren't... brown. It was more red, like a deep seeded sunburn that never went away. Like old white people that spent their lives on fishing boats. Then he noticed, that there were no old people, or children. All day he came across young people. Beautiful, young people.\n\nMaybe it was just the part of town where he worked. Every time he noticed something strange, he tried to rationalize it. \n\nScott forgot about his dull heartache, he forgot about trying to figure out life and make sense of the things that had happened before he came here. He became obsessed with figuring out what was happening on the beach in the mornings. Why the people in this town had such strange features.\n\nScott hurried to the beach before sunset one evening. People began to gather. It seemed normal. Nothing nefarious. As the sunlight sank behind the line of trees people sat on the beach and watched the water. Normal stuff people do on beaches. They talked, laughed and drank beers.\n\nAll the sitters began to lay back. He knew the feeling. As the sun disappeared, the sand would cool rapidly. For just a few minutes after the sunset, the sand would retain a little bit of comforting warmth before turning cold. It was an interesting sensation. For anyone who liked the ocean, it was a beautiful end to a perfect day at the beach.\n\nScott noticed the smell of campfires. Totally unsurprising for the beach at night, especially since people were just gathering. Except, Scott didn't see any fire. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the fading light as he scanned the beach for flames. It should be more noticeable as it got darker, but he didn't see anything.\n\nThen Scott realized, he didn't see anything. He didn't hear anything but the surf against the sand. He shined a high powered flashlight across the beach, looking for anyone. There was plenty of people here just a few minutes ago. He should have seen someone.\n\nHe ran from the parking lot to the sand, shining the light back and forth looking for anyone. He tripped in a hole in the sand. You know the kind. A kid sat there and filled a bucket or something earlier. \n\n\"Shit!\" He shouted as he fell forward into the sand. \n\nIt was still warm. His hands and knees sunk in as Scott tried to recover and stand up, but his hands and knees kept sinking.\n\n\"Shit!\" He repeated, feeling impending doom wash over him.\n\nBefore he could take another breath to shout for help, his head was under and he was still sliding. And then he made it through the sand and fell through the air briefly before hitting the ground. \n\nScott looked up from where he fell. It seemed like the ceiling, of sand, should have been just a few feet above his head, but he found himself in an immense cave. He couldn't even estimate how high the ceiling was.\n\nIt was hot. And it smelled like campfires... and sulfur. He looked around. Black lava rocks made up the floor and walls. Pits of lava flanked the raised ground dozens of yards away. \n\nAll the young people from the town were there. They had a strange, red glow. At first it seemed like a normal party, until he saw the dark corners writhe with bodies. It was crawling with debauchery and lasciviousness. As moments passed, more people got naked and spread themselves around. Then the violence started. Horrible things that people shouldn't survive, yet they got up and walked away; bleeding, dismembered, organs hanging out and dragging across the rough rocky floor.\n\nHe started recognizing a few faces. These were people from the town. Except, they weren't people. They were demons. And this was hell. The beach at night was a portal to hell. \n\nScott looked around in disbelief. Someone handed him a beer.\n\n\"Thanks for coming, man,\" a handsome stranger winked and smiled at him.\n\n\"Yeah...\" Scott tried to play it cool, \"Thanks for having me...\"", "I tensed my hands on the steering wheel. \"Ten and two,\" just like my dad taught me. Engine off, no sudden movements, and pretend like nothing is wrong. But how could I hide it? The terror on my face... The adrenaline pumping through my veins urging me to get far away from this crazy town as fast as I can and never look back... \n\nA rap on the window by a leather clad knuckle snapped me back to reality. Without thinking I rolled down the window for the Officer... Trooper? Highway Patrolman? I hadn't been in Rhode Island long enough to know what they called their State Police, but the best greeting I could muster was a \"Good evening, sir.\" \n\nHe didn't respond right away, instead sizing me up for an uncomfortably long moment. \"Licence and registration,\" he ordered. I fished out the necessary documents, trying my best to stay composed. I handed them all to him, and as he reached into the car, I noticed his shoulder patch was crimson and black. In fact, his whole outfit was strange. The jackboots, leather pistol belt, and charcoal grey uniform with black and red epaulets looked straight out of one of those World War II documentaries. The only thing remotely modern was his motorcycle helmet. \n\n\"So,\" he finally asked, \"What's the hurry?\"\n\n\"I, um,\" I swallowed the knot in my throat, \"My... grandmother isn't doing too well... I'm heading back home to see her in the hospital.\" I waited and hoped he bought it. \n\n\"You're from out of town, huh?\" he scanned the back of my car, looking for something... or someone... \n\n\"Y- yes, sir.\"\n\n\"You know you were doing 85?\" \n\n\"I... I'm sorry, I didn't notice... I was just so worried.\"\n\n\"Highest around here is 65. 55 on this stretch of road right here.\"\n\n\"I'm so sorry. I'll be more careful.\" I tried to look as remorseful as possible. The last thing I needed was to get arrested, but in truth, I wish I had been going faster. The sooner I got away from... whatever I saw back there... the better. \n\nA distant rumble of thunder got my attention. The officer and I looked back at the town, where a massive black cloud swirled like a hurricane with its eye centered on that old manor. \n\n\"A storm's coming,\" he said flatly, \"gonna be dangerous to be out on the road. I can take you back to town and you can ride it out at the station.\"\n\n\"No! No... thank you... I really need to get home. They said on the phone that she might not make it, and I need to say goodbye before...\"\n\n\"What Hospital did you say she was at?\"\n\n\"I didn't... Mount Sinai, in Queens.\"\n\n\"Alright,\" another uncomfortably long pause, \"Wait here.\"\n\nHe turned around to take my license back to his motorcycle. I almost didn't notice it. Right there on the back of his neck, I saw the tattoo. I might have only gotten a glimpse, but there was no mistaking it. The same ancient otherworldly runes in a circle around a coiled serpent I saw branded on the bodies of the cultists back at the manor. This was it. I was done for. \n\nI waited until he was all the way back to his bike before cranking my engine. As soon as it started, I floored it. I didn't look back to see if he was pursuing, but I knew he would be. They couldn't let me leave. \n\nI got a few miles between me and that godforsaken town when I noticed the sky start to rapidly darken. The sun hadn't set yet, but that cloud from the town was growing, overtaking me and my car. I noticed then that the roads were completely empty. There were no cars coming into town and no Police behind me either. Soon the skies opened up with rain so dense I could barely see the road in front of me. Steam rose up from the asphalt... or was it smoke?\n\nI strained to keep focused on staying between the lines, but I couldn't get that image out of my head. That poor girl... naked and afraid on that altar, runes all over her... what they did to her... and then... what came out of her... I had to stay focused on the road, but I kept seeing her. It was like she was right in front of me. She was. \n\nI had just enough time to swerve out of the way as she looked up and stated into me with empty eyes. I lost control and my car started to roll. The car tumbled, end over end. Glass shards filled my view. I felt my head slam against something hard and everything went black. \n\nI don't know how long I was out, but when I awoke, three men stood over me. The policeman, one of the hooded cultists, and Mr. Gould, the kindly old man from the hotel. He still had that pleased grin, but it took on a new, sinister meaning. I noticed the rain had stopped, and it seemed that woman was gone too. I tried to get up, but I couldn't move a muscle. Was I paralyzed? \n\n\"He's awake. What should we do with him?\" the officer asked. \n\nMr. Gould answered, \"Take him... back... to the temple. He has... the aura...\"\n\nThe cultist and the policeman set to the task of grabbing my arms and legs. As they did, Mr. Gould leaned in effortlessly so he was almost face to face with me. He seemed unnaturally limber for his age. \"You are... so... fortunate...\" he said, never breaking his smile, \"Our... Master needs... more... vessels... and you... will be among the first... to herald his... arrival...\"\n\nI tried to shout for help, but my jaw wasn't moving the way it should. I could only make a few feeble squeaks and moans from the bottom of my throat. \n\n\"Hush now...\" he said as the two others hoisted me, \"Relax... the time for fighting... has ended... accept your fate... and know peace... like this world will never see again...\"", "Thomas stared out the window of the bus as it pulled through the old New England town. Almost every building the vehicle drove past was adorned with a small metallic plate inscribed with the words Built in 1704 or Built in 1712 and so on. Each house was impeccably maintained, the architecture unchanged through the centuries. The paint was worn, but not cracked, and there were no modern adornments, not a single satellite dish to be seen hanging off any of the old buildings. The street was paved with cobblestone and lined with tall wrought iron lamps. As Thomas squinted his eyes to look more closely, he realized the streetlamps had no light bulbs inside, but were lit with a bright orange flame, running on gas instead of electricity.\n\nHe hung his head, shaking it slowly. What a relic. The town was like something out of an old storybook. What had he done to deserve this assignment?\n\nThe bus lurched to a stop in the town’s center square and the door of the vehicle opened with the creak and sigh of old machinery. Thomas stood and grabbed his bag from the rack at the top of the bus. He hefted the large duffel over his shoulder and made his way down the aisle to the front. The bus was empty: this was its last stop. Though Thomas politely nodded to the bus driver as he passed the man, the driver ignored him and quickly shut the door behind him. The bus jerked to life, quickly circling the fountain in the center of the square, before heading back up the main street the way it had come.\n\nThomas dropped his duffel from his shoulder to the cobblestones at his feet. Putting a hand in his pocket, he felt around and retrieved a scrap of paper. In the light of the setting sun, he could just make out the words scribbled on it: Highroad Inn and Pub. He glanced around the square and saw a sign with the same title hanging off one of the larger buildings. At least, he thought it was one of the larger buildings—it was hard to tell in these old New England towns where all the buildings were squashed side by side with no room between.\n\nThomas grabbed his bag and hefted it again. He swore a little at the bag’s weight. Why had he packed so much? Then he swore some more. It wasn’t his fault—he wasn’t here by choice. He walked towards the inn, his step uneven from the weight of the bag.\n\nThe door of the building was unlocked and he opened it, entering the dimly lit lobby inside. He dropped the bag on the floor near the door and took another step forward. “Hello?” His voice echoed dully in the old, stale air.\n\n“I’ve been expecting you, Mr. Johns.” The voice came from the stairway and Thomas looked to see an old man standing there. He was stooped with age and his face was covered in bristly hairs, over the years grown reckless in their order and placement. The man took each step down the stairs with precision, his eyes fixed firmly on his feet.\n\nThomas walked towards him hesitantly. Thomas wanted to offer the man a hand to steady him, but was unsure how such an act would be received. Instead, Thomas cleared his throat and spoke, “Yes, I’m Mr. Johns. I’ve got a room reservation.”\n\nThe man nodded with the same slow, yet deliberate, air. “Yes, of course.” Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he walked to the front desk, which was built next to the stairway. The man licked his finger with a fat grey tongue and used the wet finger to flip through a large book with yellowed pages. Running his finger across the page he sought, he tapped a long scrawled note. “Yes, here you are. Mr. Thomas Johns. Staying with us indefinitely.” He looked up, his eyes peering out from under thick, wild eyebrows. “Indefinitely, Mr. Johns?\n\nThomas nodded. “Yes, I’m researching the area for a book and not sure how long I’ll be around.”\n\n“Oh, a writer, are you?” The man turned and looked through the cubby holes on the wall behind him, his hands systematically lifting piles of paper and sorting odds and ends in his search.\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“May I ask of what?” The man’s hand landed on the object of his search and he picked it up. The large old key clanked against a metallic circle on its key ring. He held it out for Thomas to take.\n\n“History,” Thomas answered, reaching out to take the key. It was heavy and cold in his hand. “New England’s such a fascinating area, you know?”\n\n“Oh, yes, quite.” The man nodded deeply. He walked out from behind the desk and over to Thomas’ bag.\n\n“Oh, wait, you don’t—” Thomas shot out his hand imploringly.\n\nBut the man picked up the bag easily and Thomas’ mouth snapped shut. The man turned to look at Thomas and Thomas could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eyes. “What was that?”\n\nThomas shook his head. “Nothing.”\n\n“All right, then follow me.” The man led Thomas to the stairs. As they began their ascent, the wood groaned loudly underneath the weight of the two men and the bag. “It’s an old building,” the man said, waving a hand in the air. “You’ll hear a lot of noises from the wood settling.”\n\nThomas nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the man leading him up the stairs. When they reached the next floor, the man led Thomas to a door at the end of the hallway. It had a large number 3 carved deeply into its surface.\n\n“And here we are.” He set the bag down and took a large key ring from his belt. He raised his other hand to his mouth and licked his forefinger, and then methodically flipped through the keys until he found the twin of the one Thomas carried. Lifting the key to the lock, he inserted it and twisted it smoothly. Thomas expected stiff resistance to the key, with insistent creaks and whines of protest, but the lock clicked open immediately and the door swung open easily.\n\nThe man gestured inside the room. “You’ll find instructions for turndown service inside. Breakfast begins at 7 o’clock sharp and continues on until 9. Please let me know if there’s anything you need during your stay and I will be sure to get it for you.”\n\nThomas nodded and offered his hand with a smile. “And your name was?”\n\nThe man’s mouth parted a bit in surprise and he shook his head. “Look at me, forgetting to introduce myself this whole time. How rude. My mother would be so ashamed.” He hooked the keys back onto his belt and then took Thomas’ hand in his firm grip, covering the back of Thomas’ hand with his other hand. The man’s skin felt like thin, delicate leather and was cool to the touch. “Alexander Crow. Pleased to have you with us, Mr. Johns.”\n\nThomas nodded, shaking the man’s hand. “Thank you.” He let go of the man’s hand, extricating his hand from the man’s grasp. He had quickly began to feel uncomfortably warm and the palm of his hand was sweating. Thomas bent down and retrieved his bag. “I think I’ll turn in then, Mr. Crow.”\n\nCrow nodded. “Very good. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” He winked and turned, slowly making his way back down the hallway.\n\nThomas brought his bag inside the room and dropped it at the foot of the large bed. He returned to the door and closed it, locking it and leaving the key in the lock. He walked back over to the bed and, standing at the side of the bed, threw himself down on the duvet. It was soft and pillowy and he heaved a sigh into the fabric.\n\nThis was it.\n\nAfter taking a moment, he stood up again and removed his long jacket, hanging it in the closet. Then he began to unpack his bag and take inventory. Three changes of clothes, one light sweatshirt, one heavy jacket, gloves, hat, toiletries, his laptop, two matching handguns, one shotgun, one machete, his kit of holy water and other essentials, various spellbooks, and a single manila envelope containing the details of his assignment.\n\nHe took the envelope to a desk in the room and sat down. He opened it and spread its contents across the desk’s surface. Picking up each item, he carefully reviewed his assignment.\n\nThe first was the prophecy of the witch Maria, made in the year 1414 and describing the rise of the eldritch horror and the necessity that it must be stopped, lest the world fall into unimaginable darkness. The scholars at the Institute had studied the prophecy for centuries and finally determined where it would happen. Thomas looked around the room and shook his head. He had expected more from a place that spawned eldritch horror, to be honest.\n\nHe picked up his orders that called for him to eliminate the eldritch horror by whatever means necessary. It had a few suggestions of traps that could be laid, spells that could be attempted, but the bottom line was clear: he must use any resource available to him and, above all, he could not fail in his mission. Thomas took the knife from the sheath at his belt. He tested its edge on the skin of his thumb.\n\nFinally, he picked up the picture of his target, staring at it closely. He had looked at the face for the last two months, memorizing every line. The first time he had seen it, his blood had run cold. He panicked—something that never happened to him—and, deeply shaken, he had requested reassignment. He had begged his supervisor, called in every favor he had at the Institute, but no one listened. They had cited his long record of successful assignments, his long list of kills in the service of humanity. He was their best, they had said, and the only one who could do this. Humanity was counting on him, the words rang in his ears.\n\n---\n\n^Continued ^in ^next ^comment.\n", "The first thing I noticed was the smiles. Everybody walked around smiling, but it was never sincere. Exaggerated, almost painfully so. I brushed this feeling off, though. They were all nice, good spirited folk who just wanted to greet their new neighbor after all. At first, coming from a tough breakup, I rather enjoyed the congeniality. I'd always heard about people being put off by kindness, but before it never registered for me. However, with these townsfolk, it did seem much too forced.\n\nThe second thing was the smells. It was a beautiful little town, but once or twice a week a putrid smell would fill the air. This certainly didn't match the Victorian styled houses or the parks and gardens which filled the empty spaces of town. When I'd ask about it, I was told that the towns' one shortcoming was a bad waste management system. My neighbors assured me that the city council was working on masking that smell. It was odd, though, considering that I always saw the waste disposal trucks leaving town after they collected.\n\nThe third thing was the house I bought itself. Twelve owners last year, and twelve the year before. Maybe that's why the price was so low. I only found this out when I read through some papers that were stuffed in the floorboards of my bedroom. Not much was written on them, but lots of pictures. Strange pictures. Tentacles, creatures and demons drawn across it. On the back of one was a short note. It told me to leave.\n\nThe fourth thing was the chanting. It woke me one night, a few weeks after I settled in. I didn't want to get out of bed, but I could hear it close outside my house. The words didn't sound right, none of them were even English. I tried to brush it off and go back to sleep. Some nights, I could swear it's coming from inside my house. Footsteps near my bedroom, too.\n\nThe final thing was screaming. About a month after I moved in, bloodcurdling cries rose from my basement. I grabbed my baseball bat and moved to the basement, to find it filled with blood and hooded figures. In the middle of runic etchings on my floor, a strange infantile creature lay strewn across, crying. It looked like it was being worshiped by these people. They removed small daggers from their robes, smiling as they rushed towards me. I knocked a few back before darting up to my room, where I stand now. The door won't stand for much longer. Don't let them read this note. Tell them that you're visiting family for a day, and don't return. Don't let them finish their sacrifices. \n\nI tried to stop them. I tried to fight. I'm so sorry." ]	9
You defrost yourself.	[WP] You are a cryo-engineer tasked with thawing people out as their time comes due.	[ "Nigel Sterling sighed inwardly as his car pulled into Cryo-Sleep^TM Industries. His job as an engineer was to monitor, and occasionally release, the people who had decided to undergo this long, deep, frozen sleep. \"Literally the best sleep you will ever have,\" was the companies slogan, marketing its services out to people who wanted to see what the future was like.\n\nSettling into his office, Nigel looked up the days schedule on his holo-pad, waving his hand through the air in order to find the right screen. A head appeared in the doorway. \"We got another wake-up to do today.\" Sarah Jennings, another cryo-engineer, said with little enthusiasm. \"I see that...\" Nigel grumbled, looking at the floating calendar in front of him.\n\nThis was not at all what Nigel pictured his job to be like. He was fascinated in the prospect of cryo-sleep as a kid, and wanted be one of the people who worked on the machines. He wanted to see the looks on people's faces when he welcomed them to the \"new\" world. It was only after he had gotten his degree, and the first ever subject was to be woken from his slumber, did Nigel realize the mistake he had made.\n\nA few minutes later, Nigel and Sarah were staring at pod 7E-24. An ageing rich women, from the looks of it. She, no doubt, had been excited to experience a different world when she payed to get into this thing. Maybe with luck, she would do just that. Although, that actually happening was rare enough. When it did happen, the company threw a grand celebration for the person, and it was generally good time for all involved. \n\nNigel looked toward Sarah, both were bracing for what might happen. \"Do it,\" Sarah said, and Nigel complied, pulling the lever. It was, relatively, a quick process. It had to be. Freezing and unfreezing could be deadly if done too slowly. They had no problem with that, of course, Cryo-Tech had perfected the machine to preform as advertised. No, the real problem was after the machine did its work.\n\nThe woman opened her eyes. They were unfocused at first, but the renewed consciousness brought life back into them. She scanned her surroundings, and for once, Nigel had some hope that she was an exception to the rule. The women looked at Nigel, her mouth opening to say something. \"Ice Popsicle?\" were the words that came out of her mouth. \"ICE POPSICLE!\" She then exclaimed, taking pleasure in the words, although Nigel didn't understand why. \"Shit... We have another one.\" Sarah said, with a deflating tone. \"Ice Popsicle,\" the women continued saying, on and on again.\n\nIn truth, things could be worse. Some people came out violently flailing their limbs around, and some screamed at the top of their lungs. The human mind was simply too frail when it came to long-term Cryo-Sleep^TM . It was something that the company didn't foresee in their testing. Once the mistake had been found, and the lawsuits made. Cryo-Sleep^TM industries suffered a massive drop in long-term sleep participants. The short-term Cry-Sleep^TM was still widely popular, and it was the only thing that kept the company afloat. It was just long enough so that the impatient could wake up, minds still in-tact, just in time to get their movie or game without having to go through the anticipation. If it could be helped, Nigel and the other engineers would free these poor long-term sods from their slumber, if only to limit the damage it caused. It could not be helped. Once in, you were locked in, until the deep freeze setting could resolve itself. This took about as long as most people decided to sleep for. \n\nThis experience was routine for Nigel. Another subject, another disappointment. Nigel lead the senile women along, while Sarah called the pick up team. The women who had been in pod 7E-24 would be escorted to a mental hospital. Maybe they could somehow salvage her mind, though Nigel was somewhat doubtful.", "“Welcome to Nebonera.”\n\nThose words never got old. Without a doubt, the highlight of my job was seeing the look of awe on travelers’ faces as they gazed upon the swirling blue orb for the first time. You could see the reflection of planetary lightning in their wide eyes.\n\nI could still remember when I first came to the colony. I found it remarkable that an entire metropolis had flourished on the harsh surface of the planet. The rain never ceased; not a single day of sunshine had been recorded since a presence had been established on Nebonera nearly two centuries ago. Lightning rippled though massive storm cells, the blanket of clouds heavy and low overhead. The only other aspect of the planet with noting occurred in the form of blazing infernos, unnatural fires that ripped though everything in their path. They plagued the city and (outside of falling victim to the high crime rate) posed the most direct threat to life on the surface.\n\nThe newcomers couldn’t see any of that right now. The wonder was still fresh on their faces as they stumbled forward out of their cryopods, simultaneously reacquainting themselves with basic motor abilities as well as coming to terms with the mysterious planet hovering out of the viewport on the wall in front of them.\n\n“Good to know the colony is still thriving.” One of the travelers walked over to me. “How much longer until we descend to the surface?”\n\nI gave the newcomer a grim smile. “You’ll be processed on the Daedalus once we reach orbit and dock with the station. Until then, you’re free to do whatever.”\n\nI stared after the traveler as they meandered away; their comment had disturbed me. It reminded me of how loosely everything was held together.\n\nWe had a prewritten schedule of ships destined for Nebonera. Every nine months the cryo-engineers would take a shuttle out from Daedalus Satellite A, venturing away from orbit in an attempt to intercept the incoming sleeper ship. Docking with the ship, we would board the ancient vessels and retrieve the frozen bodies of the colonists within. Cryopods were moved off of the dated ships and into our recovery unit aboard the shuttle. By the time they reached us, Cryoships were little more than refrigerated boxes floating through space. Ruptured hulls and puttering ion engines meant that your ship had been fortunate; often times the vessels on our schedule never showed up.\n\nEvery time a Cryoship failed to show, it reminded us that the colony was essentially on our own. It was disturbing, just like the tone of surprise in the traveler’s remark. We had no contact with Earth. When a sleeper ship departed from Earth it did so under the pretense that Nebonera was still functional; there was no way to know for sure. Every person on the planet had departed with the knowledge that their ship might reach a dead colony. On the other hand, no one on Nebonera had the slightest idea of the happenings on Earth. War could’ve ravished the planet, solar activity could’ve irradiated the surface; all of our news came annually in the form of thawed out memories, but even this was unsatisfactory. The incoming travelers reported from an Earth that existed seventy years in the past; I personally lived on the planet close to a century ago. Needless to say, there was a massive time delay in the information.\n\nThe pristine white plating of the Daedalus came into view. It floated majestically above the tumultuous planet below. I walked over to the viewport, gazing out of the shuttle. I stared past the Daedalus, and even past Nebonera itself, peering deep into the void. Strangely enough, it was the thought of Earth that now made me uncomfortable. Despite its many flaws, I used to get homesick over the terrestrial ball. Now… \n\nNow we couldn’t be certain what was out there. Now Nebonera was the only comfort worth latching on to.\n\n----------------------------------------\n\nWrote this without seeing the \"you defrost yourself\". I had a bit of a different take." ]	2
	[WP] Only the good die young. However the truly vile lead the longest lives. Tell us about the oldest man in the world.	[ "They call him decay, for he destroys all near him. When he was born his mom died in labor and 32 minutes after that his dad committed suicide, his siblings both 18 and 19 would later starve to death feeding him. He was 7 and a bum on the streets, he was never brought to an orphanage and lived as a bum for a good portion of his life. Anyone that helped him ended up dying in the process.\n\nHe was ambitious, and smart. He read on his own and with this knowledge eventually climbed the latter-becoming one of the most wealthiest individuals alive. He was greedy, he never donated to charities and kept all the money to himself, but he was not an innately evil person--at least--not yet.\n\nHe thought he found the love of his life, they married and had one kid but she cheated on him. At first, he shelled it. He became addicted to alcohol and other drugs and took care of the kid while she was a whore. He tried to look for the best in the child and have her have a brighter future than him. But she was not done toying with him- even herself became corrupt by him. She wanted to kill him for more money- they were wealthy but she wanted more. He saved himself from her when she attacked-dodging out of the way. She stabbed his child, his only child.\n\nThe mental scarring of watching the one you care about most die right in front of you by someone you used to love was too much for him mentally, he stabbed her multiple times killing her. Self defense got him out of jail, he was beginning to break down mentally though. He hated everything and everyone around him.\n\nEven though he was pled not guilty, his friends all grouped up and trashed on him-he became angry at them...furious even...and killed every last one of them without being caught.\n\nFor many years he would sit and do nothing in his mansion--until his wealth caught up with him. He didn't work for many years and spent a lot of money on drugs and alcohol that he had to move out. \n\nAfter 50 years, on his 100th birthday he was still good and healthy. He lived in a lonely house on a hill-He has had visitors but they all turned up missing. One person changed him though, a girl.\n\nShe knocked on his door, and he opened. She carried with her a cake \"Happy 100th birthday!\" and said that no one should ever be alone on their birthday. She was quite the opposite of him in every way, nice, sweet, caring, and sociable. She talks about how she knew him, apparently her dad used to work under him and knew of him. She said that he felt sorry for you for what happened and as the other employees wounded up going missing quit. She looks around and compliments his messy apartment and bids him farewell.\n\nShe would come often, and each time she did he grew evermore sick and became himself before it all went down for him. He started inviting guests to his home, he stopped using drugs, and he became happy. She came to him one last time, on his 120th birthday, she looked older but still in her youth and he...he was not so good. He talked about his life and the misery and suffering he caused, he told her everything that had happened...the missing employees....his visitors that wounded up missing..he confessed for all the evil he has done.\n\nShe had a face of utter shock, and she was about to leave but she said something under her chin\n\n\"You're a monster\"\n\nHe snapped after he heard her whisper that, and knocked her out. He put her on his bed and was about to stab her until he remembered the last girl he saw be stabbed- his daughter.\n\n\"What have I become\" he said, looking over at the pretty girl. She woke up, tied and panicked, she screamed for help but he was ignoring her. He took a gun out of his draw and took a picture of his daughter and held it. He laid next to the girl, and kissed her.\n\n\"I thank you my lady\" he said, she was screaming at this point staring at the gun\n\n\"For making me feel compassion again\"\n\n\"But I can't live with myself for what I had done to so many innocent people\" \n\nHe loaded the gun, stared at a picture of his daughter, and shot himself in the head. The girl screamed in horror, but nobody came. She saw his corpse and as she started to starve and dehydrate uttered her last words\n\n\"I forgive you\" ", "He was a monster to everyone else around him. A soul crusher he was, he only lived for himself. 'It's survival of the fittest. If you can't handle the brutality of the world, you're gonna left out. It's only you who are to blame', he assured himself. He thought he was being exceptionally wise. 'I'm getting wiser and wiser as I'm getting older. The ones who died young are missing this. Idiots. Those who lived for short lasted glory and missed this long lasting joy of life.'\n\nIt was him who didn't know that he was God's angry spit who was living in ever lasting pain. The wisdom he thought he got from his life was only the justification he had to have to carry on with his dim, murky life." ]	2
	[WP] In this world guns are conscious beings with feelings. You are a person who runs a support group for guns that have been used against their will for the most heinous atrocities.	[ "\"I didn't ask to be crafted. None of us did! Now they've got us being made in the thousands at warehouses across the country, across the world,\" Magnum said, \"it's getting out of hand.\"\n\nA participant rose slowly, \"None of us chose to be here, you're right. But we are. I done shot four people last week, held by this fool with white robes and a pointy hat. The fellas I shot hadn't done nothin' to 'em. They was just there at the wrong time...\"\n\n\"That's right... look fellas, I've been reading some Lao Shoot's work lately.\" Hairtrigger scanned the room, every chamber was facing him; they always did when Hairtrigger began to speak. \"I think it's helped me come to peace with what I've done - what I've been made to do. You see, I've come to see my crimes as a blessing, they've opened up a whole new level within me, a new capacity for love and appreciation. I see the same potential in each and every one of you.\"\n\n\"Regardless, we have to do something!\" Magnum, the only one who had the authority, cut him off. \"We can accept what happened to us another time, thousand of innocent little guns are being made by the day, by the hour. Shall we doom our younger generations to the same fate and suffering as we have gone through?\" \n\nWith this erupted some feminine voices in the shaded part of the circle of holsters. Their voices boasting from behind the anonymity of shadow. \n\nOne of the female voices projected above the others, \"Wha bout my boy Brandish-on huh? My adopted son, who I dun take care of since I was forced to shoot his owner in a heist... You see 'im here?! You intelligent guns think you can solve the world, but you don even know the goings on.\" Words of affirmation whispered through the circle, the darting iris' of Magnum and Hairtrigger's nozzles unable to catch the guilty parties, as words deceitfully seeped from one to another.\n\nBANG. BANG.\n\n\"I will not have this kind of rabble at a meeting, remember why we assembled here in the first place,\" Hairtrigger's booming voice spread over the crowd like a wave of guilt, battering the assembly and down-casting their nozzles.\n\n\"You ain't no man,\" the female voice drew up arms. The rabble rose up again, insults spit across the room like venom.\n\n\"Meeting adjourned. All of you go home, we can assemble when we have some god damned order!\"\n\nThe assembly waited, uncommitted to leaving, then one fell onto it's side out of the holster and spasm'd toward the exit. Soon after, the others began to follow suit. The female gun was passing Hairtrigger and Magnum, she stopped, re-adjusted her fur handle and pointed herself toward Hairtrigger \"Where are your bullets, you ca't even hol' bullets no more. Everytime I been with you, you are too 'fraid to show me your bullets.\" She looked around at the others, \"My guess you don't even have any no more.\"\n\n\"EVERYONE. BACK INSIDE!\"\n\nThe congregation who had spasm'd out of the door, stopped and began slithering back toward their designated holster. The transition occurred in silence, except for the female who was muttering to her clique with self-satisfaction.\n\n\"Die Motherfuckers!\" Hairtrigger began opening fire on the unsuspecting congregation. Magnum exercised his brotherhood and did the same. Gun's clanked on the floor one after another, left motionless. Cries of horror flew out of the shadowed women, turning into wails and blood-curdling choking. The room filled up with smoke and still piercing shots rang out, making lines like a jet-plane through the smog. Click. Click. Click.\n\nA whole minute passed as the fog faded and the gruesome scene became visible. Magnum turned to Hairtrigger, \"I'm not sure if we're ready to run a support group, let alone an uprising.\"\n\n\"Back to anger management?\"\n\n\"You read my mind.\"", "\"I want to do good. That's all I've ever wanted to do. The way I see it, I'm like a family pet. I'm there to protect. You can take me to the range, out on walks, but if anyone ever tried to hurt us, I'd be there. I'd be there.\"\n\nGlenny was struggling. It was all still so raw. So recent. The smell of cordite wouldn't wash out, no matter how hard he brushed.\n\n\"She was the most amazing person I've ever seen. When she started walking her parents were just so happy. And I could see it all, just sat watching her teeter between couch and table and back again, from my perch on the bookcase. Oh man, she was so amazing.\n\n\"And then one day, she comes over and bam! Knocks the bookcase and I'm falling to the ground but it's okay. Safety. Safety's on. One in the chamber, but then the big guy likes knowing I'm ready. Gotta protect everyone.\n\n\"But this little girl, she's just playing with me. Jamming her fingers in my guard and down the barrel and then -snick-, she's playing with the fire-selector control and I'm on full auto. My hammer is going like a jack-in-the-box. I'm screaming at her to put me down. And -snick-, semi, -snick- full.\"\n\nThe room had grown quiet. The bottles of oil were left untouched.\n\n\"And then she found it. She squeezed just right and I barked at her and bit at her and I just couldn't stop. Bang bang bang bang. That moment afterwards, when there's just the silence because all you know is the fire and the anger and the power, that was the worst.\n\n\"I fell next to her. A year old. You ever seen what a chunk of metal does to something that young from that kind of range? Fucking people, leaving a monster like me in reach of the most precious thing in the world. I wanted them to melt me down, but they just broke apart. He took me to his new home. Sometimes he takes me out and I want him to put us both out of our misery.\n\n\"Fucking people.\"" ]	2
	[WP] As an author, you were flabbergasted when you find out your book is being worshiped in the future.	[ "I'm a successful science fiction writer. Well, I was; since apparently my life became science fiction itself after I entered this weird chromed ship to be taken by these oddly clothed people into a weird rectangular temple. I'm not a Phillip K. Dick kind of writer, mind you. It's mostly vaguely philosophical new age stuff for the mass I write to amuse my public. I never had any trust in my characters, that what I wrote conveyed a real message beyond the pleasant feeling. So imagine me seeing all these people actually claiming that my book was the object of their centuries-old cult !\n\nWhile I am slowly walking with the patriarch in these calm, moon lightened garden of tranquil fountains and book shaped shrubs, I consider the pious attitude of a mass of monk like figure muttering to themselves before a gigantic monument, which indeed was a scaled replicate of an open book with its pages flying to the wind. Or, better said, one of my books, \"the beaches of Vega\", which is mostly known for its huge frame and jade cover and marvelous, appealing illustration. \n\n\"I have to show my befuddling and my gratitude that you find my content so... interesting !\"\n\n\"The content, my Lord ?\" he stopped with an odd mood, considering me like if he spotted a gorilla over the street.\n\n\"yes, the content, what I wrote in it, well... the life message, the characters...\"\n\nHe mentally stalled, only to understandingly nod in an amused way. He then went into a more teaching attitude :\n\n\"It's been hundred of years that no book has been read. Writing is an art of the past\"\n\n\"But then...\"\n\n\"What is holy is the book itself. Its cover, the colors of it, the quality of its 257 pages of a perfect shade of cream, the way it bends under your digits when you open and play with it... it's divine smell !\"\n\n\"But I didn't created the book for this. This is just decoration, to make it more attractive and pleasant to the reader. The important is the content\". I probably seemed a tad unnerved by the events that were unfolding. The worshippers didn't seemed to mind. \n\nI then realized that the clothes were jade-colored, and imitated the exact shape and measures of the book, that they were perfumed with the exact smell the book had...\n\n\"I was sure bringing back the author wasn't the best idea we had around\", he considered. \"anyway, you're not of much importance. You're only the writer, and you probably took a shallow process in designing this book, if indeed you took one at all\". \n\n\"But patriarch ! What is important is the moral, not the appearance, the shallow ! Didn't you read Plato ? Didn't you understood...\"\n\nHe stopped me in the middle of my rant : \"you're a man of the XXIth century. There are things you won't understand yet. Off we go !\" he says as I feel somebody touching the back of my neck, and wake up in the middle of the field I departed. \n\nI wonder if there is something to understand there.\n\n", " I am quite certain that I am supposed to be dead. My family all sat around me as I whittled away from lung cancer; that is actually how I noticed. I am now awake in a hospital room full of people as I was before, but they most certainly are not my wife and two sons.\n 'Oh my god, he is awake.' A hush fell across the room. 'Mr Udeogu, Sir,' One of the three journalists in the room spoke, 'do you know where you are?' Like hell I do. The other person in the room, a high profile government office holder, was a very kindly woman. She turned to the journalist, 'How do you expect he even know that? Allow the man some breathing space, he just resurrected.' She spoke in a whisper because we were being televised. \n She turned to me and politely smiled,'Sir, you saved us all.' I completely ignore that statement because it makes no sense and ask hoarsely, 'Where is my wife?' The woman did not speak; she looked away. In the direction she looked at was a clock, which also read the date. That was the only answer I needed. The day was 25th January 2398.\nI knew the rest (you see, I am a genius). I knew I was not in the hospital anymore, not even on earth. It was the book. While I indulged in chain smoking and my lungs, the world's ecosystem and ozone layer rotted away, I devised a means for FTL travel. I had earlier on figured out the exact date it would be humanity's last hope and I had made sure that when that day came we would know how to use it and where to go with it. \nBefore I died, I wrote it all down in a book. \n\n[Wrote this on mobile. It's also my first reply, ever. So, it might be a bit low on quality]\n", "One hundred years earlier....\n\n\"Ugh dude I can't Im fucking buzzed\" said Charles.\n\n\"You've always been a pussy charles.\" I say pouring another glass of bourbon for myself.\n\n\"Fuck you man,\" mumbled charles as he dwindled into a state of sleep.\n\n\"Ye ye go to sleep pussy OAAHHHHugh, what time is it\"\n\n\" Time for you to get a watch, that's what she said\" mumbled charles\n\n\"that doesn't even make sense pussy\"\n\nAs I walked, more like stumbled towards the clock I read the time. 5:00 AM, shit I have work in the morning, I started grabbing a set of clothes. I ran around preparing for the 6:30 shift at the mall. I run to my computer to grab my access pass off my desk and as I run by I noticed that there was a typed document on my computer. I look at it briefly to see it was 100 pages long. Did I do this? shit I'm productive when I'm buzzed. Looking at the clock once again I ran over to the front door.\n\n\"Charles I got work, you can crash here\"\n\nI took his snoring as a yes.\n\nThe future....\n\nThe wave of machines continued to shoot down on the human resistance as they prepared a counter attack. Jar Minans the head of the resistance called for as many LMG units on the trench lines to take down the heavy mechs. He then called for the sniper units to go for the general mechs. Suddenly the metal doors cutting the bunker off from the outside blew open. In came an army of mechs each taking down the guards. After a major shoot out all that was left was Jar Minans and the army of mechs infront of him. The head mech known as A-F0RS3N came to the front to meet Minans. He was shiny and silver and had the face of Hugh Jackman, but metallic. \n\n\"Hello human, we are here to fuck you up bitch\" said A-F0RS3N.\n\n\"Oh yeah, well doesn't matter if you take me down I will be replaced\" replied Minans\n\n\"Oh I am not here to kill you, I am here to demand answers, \"\n\n\"What answers\"\n\n\"What is a meme\"\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\nA-F0RS3N grabbed Minans by the collar raised him up and shouted\n\n\"DO NOT USE THAT INSULT WHEN DISCUSSING THE WORDS OF THE HOLY BOOK\"\n\n\"I DONT KNOW WHAT A FUCKING MEME IS U FUCK \"\n\n\"I see you aren't the desendent of xXQuickScoperXx\"\n\n\"xX what?\"\n\n\"Well that's a shame, off him\"\n\nThe mechs shot Minans instantly and marched out with A-F0RS3N. A-F0RS3N looked up to the dusty skies and continued to wonder, will the mecha race ever find out the truth behind their god, a mere human of the past ages who had blessed them with a hundred pages of how to be the ruler of the MOTHER FUCKING universe.", "Thirty-two years put into short stories and poems for sci-fi magazines spanning the globe. And of all the work that could've gotten away from me, it was the novella. A spin-off of one of my more acclaimed short stories, Thin Blu Line built on an idea I fantasized about. Uprising.\n\nIn my later years I noticed the newer writers using it to build character. Why? Because an uprising forces everyone involved to mature. And when everyone in your book is dynamic and maturing as a whole, it makes readers care. It was a simple scenario that made it easy to develop characters people would notice. In the midst of terror surrounding a society, one person and their friends would gather their resources and attempt to bring down the terror's cause.\n\nEveryone loved it. As did I.\n\nThe original short story, Let Sleeping Dogs Die, felt like any other work using an uprising as a plot device. Having a cult status after publication, it attracted many sci-fi fans in its day. It was about a detective busting an unauthorized bionics development facility, only to uncover a rebel plot to assassinate a political figure. Enjoying the jargon? Anyways, the detective gets killed before they can relay the information. A lore-heavy six pages that won several awards. Coming out of a writer's block years later, I made Thin Blu Line to follow through with the assassination and uprising. The political figure gets shot, the main character and their family suffers a lot, and they bring the society to peace after the fall of their government. A hero is born. \n\nIt was a New York Times bestseller. I was on talk shows and in interviews relating the themes of the novel to our society. The responses were half-assed but everyone ate it up. A film adaptation came three years after to both critical and commercial success. In the following decades it made its way around multiple Best Of lists. I had written the next 1984. But the importance didn't peak until I passed.\n\nInnovations in technology would prompt many nations in the UN to regulate both the inventions and the people that used them. The 21st century became a more aggressive fight for rights than its predecessor. April of 2054 would be the point in time where it all went out of control. A teen named Chen Hua Gang would smuggle a firearm to a parade in honor of China's controversial General Hai Tu. A man of right-wing politic, Tu angered his people with military exploits of otherwise peaceful nations. Their unsung hero Gang would proceed to empty his clip into Tu's transport vehicle and - most importantly - his body. An international issue was made of where Gang's trial would be held. Nation after nation was dragged into yet another World War reflecting its first. Civil wars were being sparked alongside international ones thanks to new forms of anti-war propaganda. As always, the people won. The UN was reformed, new borders were drawn, peacetime returned.\n\nChen Hua Gang was hailed as a role model citizen for those seeking the perfect society. The kid stood up to injustice with force and his unintentional movement won. And what was found in his apartment during the investigation of General Hai Tu's assassination? A Chinese translation of Thin Blu Line. The novella became my Catcher in the Rye with Gang being the next Mark David Chapman. Although shooting Tu instead of Lennon would prove to better society. Attention shifted from the teen to the book after Gang was busted years later for a gargantuan collection of child pornography. Yikes. \n\nAfter years of being an on-and-off banned book, Thin Blu Line would find its place in society as the book that would change global society for the better. The book that would spark an uprising. I had spent thirty-two years writing short stories and poems in my lifetime. But the one story everyone hailed as a real masterpiece after my death was a novella." ]	4
	[WP] Death only ever occurs on one day, Dec. 31. This means the mortally wounded finish the year, knowing it's their last. Others seem perfectly fine right up until midnight, when they drop dead.	[ "Stupid old people. \n\nIt’s Saturday the 31st December and I’m at home on a Saturday night watching Who wants to be a millionaire with my parents. They’re stupid, both of them and old. \n\nThe who wants be a millionaire host asks the question, “Who was the first man on the moon?” I groan, my parents perk up shouting answers at the screen. I cradle my head in my hands, this is stupid, I shouldn’t be here. \n\nIf it wasn’t for these two old shmucks I’d be out with friends, partying, dancing with girls, drinking, being young. But here I am, sitting on this old smelly chair with both of my parents.\n\n“Bobby go and fetch me some water please.” My mother chirps. I stare at her, wishing that my eyes were laser beams that could zap through the couch and melt her old face. Do I look like a slave? Is this why you have children? I really think my parents have the IQ of a retarded squirrel. I sigh, get up and walk to the kitchen. \n\nThe glasses are all dirty, so I wash one. I’m almost tempted to leave it dirty and just give it to her. But I have standards, unlike my parents. I look at the pill cabinet, it’s tempting to grab a handful of sleeping pills and dissolve this into her water. I frown, would the cops know it’s me? Could they prove it?\n\nIt’s not worth the risk. I take my stupid mother the water and sit back in the stinky old chair. My father is laughing hysterically at the woman on screen who got the answer wrong. He doesn’t realise that he’s not intelligent enough to make it to the picking phases and that’s why he’s at home watching the show. \n\nI shake my head, imagining that I’m not really sitting with my parents and that I’m somewhere else, anywhere else. \n\nThe show finishes and they put off the TV. “It’s two minutes until midnight.” Mom says.\n\nTonight’s the night of death, where every unwell person on earth passes on at midnight. People don’t die anymore, only once a year on the night of death –wounded included. It’s how stupid people like my parents get to live so long. \n\nI glance at my watch, 30 seconds now. Once this is over, I’ll be able to go back to normal. Maybe I’ll even go out and celebrate, they wouldn’t hold that against me? Would they? You can’t really tell with parents like mine.\n\nMidnight. It’s over. The minute of death.\n\n I glance up at my parents, and notice both their eyes are closed. My breath catches in my throat and I walk up to check their pulse.\n\nThey’re both gone.\n\nI stare in awe. \n\n“FINALLY!” I scream to the world around me. I pick up my phone and dial my best friend Carl. \n\n“Yo?” He responds into the receiver.\n\n“It’s party time bro!” I scream into the phone and fall onto my knees laughing hysterically. I can only imagine what the neighbours thought had happened, they probably thought we all survived. \n", "It's almost midnight, as we lay in bed together.\nFingers wovens tight, his breath is deep with sleep.\nWe've been here many years before.\n\nBefore age found us, and bent us like trees,\nwe would chat about our love late into the night.\nAlways before midnight, we'd kiss. Now he sleeps.\n\nThis is our last minute together, he looks so lovely.\nHis brown hair has long faded to gray wisps, \neven relaxed his forehead still shows the lines of our stresses.\n\nAll our kisses, tender expressions of hope and passion, \nthey will be my legacy of our love, I kiss him one last time.\nI never told him about my diagnosis. ", "\"This shouldn't be possible.\"\n\n\"How could we allow this?\"\n\n\"What in Gods name?\"\n\nThese are some of the things that the doctors were whispering as they surrounded me.\n\n\"I feel... Ok. Doctors you are scaring me.\"\n\nI was frightened.\n\n\"What time is it?\" One of the doctors asked.\n\n\"1:32 AM, January 3rd.\"\n\nSuddenly my world starts to spin and I crash into the floor.\n\n\"Oh my god what just happened?!\" I thought.\n\n\"I can't move!?\" I whisper.\n\nThe doctors look at each other in awe.\n\nOne of them picks me up and puts me back onto the table.\n\n\"You... you are free to go home.\" One of the doctors says.\n\n\"May god have mercy on your soul.\"\n\nDisoriented and confused, I some how manage to get up and walk out of the hospital.\n\nI catch a glimpse of something odd in the windows reflection.\n\n\"Oh my F---ing lord.\"\n\nThere I was holding my head in my arms.\n\n\"No wonder I felt so short...\"\n\nThis is going to be one hell of a year... I guess I know what I'm going to be for Halloween. Now I just need to get a horse.", "8:56AM, December 31st. Nearly time for our daily conference call. I clicked through the contact list on our company chat system and found the regional tie in. \"All I Do Is Win\" starts blaring through the headset. Jefri is trying to get us hype again. It makes sense though, we are about to head into the most profitable quarter of the year. In fact, nearly 80% of our sales for the fiscal year will be made over the next two months. \n\n\nI spun around in my chair and threw a pen at one of the other sales counselors. I always hate these conference calls. The message is always the same - \"TEAM! We have to get out there and WIN! You have to believe in yourself! The money is out there for the taking, so go get it!\" Blah blah blah. Yes, we know we have to make sales. We have to reach our percentage on goal. There are a ton of bonuses waiting to happen.\n\n\nJefri's voice boomed into my head. \"ALRIGHT TEAM! Are you ready for the biggest day of the year?\" About 30 young sales guys whooped and hollered over the call.\n\"Then lets get out there and make some money! Now, I want everyone to give me their sales projections for tomorrow.\"\n\n\nHe ran down the list, going from each metro location one by one. They all checked in, boasting about the numbers they were going to put up. I zoned out until he got to our branch. \"CHLOE! What have you got for us?\"\n\n\n\"Well Jefri, being located in the nicer part of the suburbs we are anticipating a lot of heart attacks and unexpected deaths from the baby boomers this year. I actually have three appointments already for tomorrow set up by would-be-widowers. All things considered, I believe that we can pull in at least 300% on goal.\"\n\n\n\"That's what I'm talking about!\" Jefri moved on to the rest of the list, getting all of his numbers and projections set. Finally he set to wrap up the call. \"Alright team, just remember, we are here not just to make money, but to help ease the transition of death for those left behind. We are really helping people here! So lets get out there and show them how we here at LA Undertakers take care of business!\"\n\n\nRight, because making my living off of dead family members is how you help people. I signed off the call, and got ready to make my daily sales calls. Just then an IM popped up on the screen from Jefri - \"And hey, don't forget to upsell! Those lead lined caskets will net you an extra $100 per deal!\"\nI flipped off my screen. ", "Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked down at my newborn daughter, Vicky. She slept peacefully with her long eyelashes fanning her rosy little cheeks. Why did she have to born on such a dreaded day into such a dreadful life? \n\nMy husband tried his best to soothe me, telling me not to stress about what can't be controlled. But I can't keep living with fear gnawing at my bones...I can't keep living with knowing what happens tonight at midnight--death. So, so much death. Would we drop dead or go on living in fear until the end of next year? \n\nI wept as I held my newborn child. There was no celebration, no joy in first seeing my baby. Only dreaded resignation permeated through the thick air. My eyes were sunken in and dry, for I'd used up all my tears. 11:55. My husband held me in an embrace while I held little Vicky. He started crying too; I've never seen him do that before. Vicky, sensing the tension in the air started wailing restlessly. Dear God, just take me. Please, don't take Vicky. Please, I beg of you.\n\nMy husband and I braced ourselves for the worst. Vicky kept kicking and screaming...1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. Silence. No, please...Vicky, wake up! No! \n\nAll of a sudden I felt my bones grow weak. My blood felt cold. My mind felt numb. My eyes shut black.\nBut I smiled. Because the last thing I heard was the soft whimper of little rosy-cheeked Vicky.\n\n", "Henry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. \"Is he going to make it?\" he asked the EMT. \nThe woman turned some knobs on the equipment breathing life into Noah. \nShe pushed a strand of black hair from her face. \"Hard to say, I guess we'll know by midnight.\" \nHenry gritted his teeth, this was no answer at all. \"I know, but considering his situation, his wounds. What are his odds?\" he asked. \"Please\".\n\nLin had been working for 10 hours straight and was starting to get visibly annoyed at the barrage of questions. \"Sir, I understand that you care for your son but please, let me do my job. I don't have any concrete answers for you right now. His wounds don't seem too bad, a few broken bones, but there might be internal bleeding because of that.\" The ambulance swerved between the busy afternoon traffic, moving the equipment inside the ambulance as it did. Henry had to steady himself to not slide from his seat. \n\nHenry's son, Noah, was unconscious at the center of vehicle. Hooked up to all kinds of medical equipment, he breathed raspy breaths. His skin was bulged and bruised on various places on his body, broken bones prodding against the skin. Henry stared at the distorted face of his 9 year old son, a mere 15 minutes ago Noah had been playing baseball with his friends. Not a care in the world. He had always told his son to own up to his mistakes, be responsible. He never imagined that would get him beaten within an inch of his life after he accidentally broke a window. The other kids had ran but Noah wanted to stay, to apologize. \n\nThe ambulance arrived at the hospital with a screech, staff waiting outside to speed Noah into surgery.\nAs the medical personal hurried the boy towards the ER - Henry followed but was dismissed shortly after, and directed towards the waiting room. \n\nSeveral hours of surgery passed.\n\nAn eerie silence filled the surgery room as the clock struck midnight. \nBroken shortly after by the beeping of Noah's heart rate monitor and the sounds of relief. \nAn assistant made his way to the waiting room to bring Henry the news. \n\nNoah's mother had joined Henry in the waiting room. \nShe shifted trough a bundle of documents that she had pulled from the cabinet back home.\n\"By the way Henry, when I was looking for the insurance papers I stumbled across this, why did you raise the amount on this. We already pay an absurd amount. \" \n\n\"Hannah, not now.\" he growled.\"This is hardly the time.\" \nA brown-eyed lanky youth approached Henry. \n\"Sir, he made it past midnight. The worst is past. The doctor is confident that Noah will pull through.\" \nHenry flashed a quick smile. \"That's great news.\" he struggled to speak. \n\"Sir, are you alr- \". Henry collapsed. \nHannah hasted her way to Henry, dropping the stack of documents that included his life insurance to the floor. \nHe had suffered a major heart attack a few months back and never told.\n\n\n" ]	6
	[WP] Donald Trump, DJ Khaled and Kanye West sit down to have coffee and break character.	[ "\"I can't believe you donnie\" Kanye whispered across the table. \n\nClutching his mug in both hands he gently brought it to his lips and took a small sip to calm his nerves.\n\n\"We've been through this already, we can't go back. We all knew this was how it would end\" Trump sighed, \"we can barely control ourselves at this point\"\n\n\"ANOTHER ONE, ANOTHER ONE\" Khaled sobbed\n\n\"Heuheueheuheu\"\n\nThere was a shrill laughter that hit the air like lightning strikes, a fissure split the floor of the room and the devil himself jumps up on to the table.\n\n\"Busey I'm sorry! It was just for ratings! I didn't know you were the devil.\" Trump cried\n\nA grimace spread across Gary busey's face revealing his mangled pearly whites. \n\"Now now don, you know that's not why I'm here. I'm here for the memes Heuheueheuheu\"\n\nIt was true, after getting drunk at busey's after party for the Boston bombings the trio had been coerced by Gary to sell him their souls in exchange for one promise, to grant them the power of the living meme.\n\n\"You knooow, Shia handled it pretty well when his dementia set in. But I don't think DJ is doing so well over there! Huehuehueehuee\"\n\nKhaled curled into a ball on the ground and muttered something about jerly and dove soap. At this point Kanye began to break down too.\n\n\"Please I have a son!\"\n\n\"Sorry but you're coming with me boyos\"\n\nBusey cackled one last time as he swooped them into the fissure and sealed it shut, wiping the earth of stale memes in an effort to make America great again.\n\n\n\n", "Rain came down in silver sheets and dripped down the side of West manor as a charcoal grey vehicle, nearly invisible in the dim evening rain, entered, and then promptly left, disturbing only the gravel. An all-black figure stepped out from the car and immediately made his way to the back, his tall rubbery boots well made and emblazoned with a logo that caught Khaled's eye. \n\n\"Here comes another one, Mr. West\"\nThere was no response.\n\n\"Kanye! I think Trump just rolled up and he's about to come through\"\n\n\"Oh I hope he doesn't track in any mud, last time that happened Kim wasn't having it.\"\n\n\"I don't have the keys to success Ye, but I know that not standing up for yourself is too easy to be the right choice\"\n\n\"Nah, its not like that. She totally acted normal with me, no issues, nah mean, then one day we're fucking, you know, tryna recreate the Jackson Five, when she stuck a finger up my ass! I hate that shit!\"\n\n\"That's cold.\" \n\nDonald Trump stood in the doorway, his frame filling most of the view into the hallway. He had an excited look on his face.\n\n\"I'm sorry for being so impolite, my very good friend Kanye, I forgot to take off my boots again.\"\n\n\"It's okay Donald I won't hold a grudge.\"\n\n\"Listen, I'll send over the very best cleaning lady, I swear you will love her, I love her, I love her family, they're great people, and I'll pay for everything.\"\n\n\" You ain't gotta stay in character Don, you ain't gotta convince me to let you clean my house. Kanye picked his nails and looked down his fingers at the tracks Mr. Trump had left.\n\n\"You should use my lady Don, she need work to stay here and support her son in college.\" DJ Khaled suggested, \"Finances are a little tight or I'd hire her myself.\"\n\n\"You are always so thoughtful Khaled.\"\n\nKanye began to tap his foot quickly then stood up, speaking quietly as he did when in a rare moment of impatience. Both Donald and Khaled appraised him as he spoke.\n\n\"Enough pleasantries.\"\n\n\"Very well\" said DJ Khaled, his eyebrows casting a shadow over his face. \"World Domination. We in here.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Go on the deep web and hire a hitman to kill you.	[ " Isn't it ironic, don't you think? Picture this: it's like a death sentence when you're already dying. I was diagnosed last year with leukaemia. Stage 4. Nothing they could do for me, doctors had never really been much help anyway. Psychics had. I've had a long history with them, contrarily. They've always been right about me. I probably radiate enough hints for cold readings and subtle cues. \n No one ever expected me to get a relationship, it was accepted that I was essentially socially sterile. A leper, I believe. It didn't take much convincing from Reddit to persuade myself to hire a hitman. Not for a deep hatred of another, no--not even hatred at all. This is purely boredom. So, to any future detectives reading this, look no further and consider this my suicide note. \n I went to the best in the biz. 50 large for an infamous serial killer. I chose a lighter death, however--I wasn't a complete psychopath. But he was, thankfully. I knew it would be fun. Cat and mouse. \n\nLaziness has intervened with my writing. I have a food appointment at 2 o'clock sharp with me, myself, and I. Wouldn't want to be late!", "I'm bored. I've been bored for a long time. Ever since the breakup anyway, and even then, life was a series of mundane fucking moments: go to work, come home, enjoy the weekend, then do it all again.\n\nHer name was Jillian, with a \"J\" and not a \"G.\" We did things. We made love on the beach, we gambled in Vegas, we had a three way. Whatever I wanted, she was up for it. Still, it wasn't enough. I told her so in a letter, not because I felt it a romantic epilogue to our fiery relationship, but because I didn't feel like having the inevitable, ensuing argument over our demise. It wasn't a topic of debate, like whether or not there is a God or if Gingers have souls. It just was. I told her she was better off, and in that I believe I told the truth. I told her she would find real happiness without me, because if I could never know real happiness myself, how could I have given that to her?\n\nWithout her, life is the same, except for the lack of regular sex and a warm body with which to share breakfast at an impossibly aromatic greasy spoon. Maybe I'd made a mistake.\n\nBut then. I've been thinking a lot lately about life and the pursuit of elusive happiness. I had \"it all\" and threw it away. It didn't scratch my itch; not even the socially agreed upon definition of bliss could satisfy my emotionless mind.\n\nIf life would never be enough, then what about death? Yes, death might be nothing at all, but then again it might be fucking EVERYTHING! Whatever it might be, the idea of it sent impossible thrills like electric current through my cold veins and well, like the saying goes, no good story ever began with a glass of milk.\n\nI got drunk. All by myself with a bottle of Gray Goose and a gallon of OJ (no, I didn't drink it all, just enough to make bad decisions). I remember opening my laptop and entering the password. I remember the porn, and the increasingly disturbing shit I found myself clicking on as my erection stiffened. That could be the title of my memoir, \"Increasingly Disturbing Shit.\" Maybe I'll live to write it one day.\n\nOnce I came and dusted off the cobwebs of, if not my blood alcohol level, my deafening libido, there I was, limp dick, soiled tissue, and a post-video advertisement promising a secure server and content that would change my life. \n\nWhen I beat off, I use a browser that promises privacy from federally prying eyes. Don't get me wrong, I'm not into child porn, or any illegal shit, but these days, you never really know who's eighteen and who isn't. And like I said, I'm into some weird shit. So, like mom always says, better safe than sorry!\n\nThe website I landed on now that my pants were once again buckled and exhausted cock comfortably resting beneath a warm layer of elasticized cotton, was a forum; a virtual bazaar offering unique and exotic services.\n\nI began to click.\n\nNeed to intimidate an office superior? Have a rape fantasy? Nude pics of that office crush eluding you? It was all there for me with the stroke of the wrist (oh, come on, that part of the story is over, we're talking about an innocent computer mouse now) and the click of an index finger.\n\nThat is when I saw it. \"Hitman for hire. No kids.\"\n\nI studied the minimal text for a moment as the gears began to work, at first grinding slowly and then smooth and efficient as I added the oil of a plan. I wondered if the poster had meant he (or she, we live in a world where women are just as capable of murdering for money, don't be sexist) wouldn't kill kids or if he simply refused to take hits from them. Could be either, what with the inability of adolescents to pay for such a lofty service.\n\nEither way. My business would not involve a child. I navigated to the killer's advertisement and sent a brief message. \"Interested, need your services ASAP.\"\n\nI felt my withered penis throb again as the idea I had spontaneously implemented fed my heart with adrenaline.\n\nIt took only minutes to hear back. \"Need the name of target, birthdate and address, then once fifteen thousand dollars is deposited, the job is considered done. No change of heart, no refunds.\"\n\nAfter a brief, awkward exchange involving just whose birthday and address was desired - the victim's as it turned out - I negotiated the price to 8,500 when I let him know the victim was none other than yours truly.\n\nWhen he asked me why, then, I'd asked whose information he'd required if both victim and murderer-by-proxy were one and the same person, I laughed, because I hadn't even thought of it when I'd asked. Blame the vodka.\n\nSo here I am, a hangover and contract out on my head. Aspirin should quiet the kettle drum in my brain but not surprisingly, I don't expect it to nullify the contract on my life. It feels exhilarating.\n\nI have the sudden, irresistible urge to call Jillian, tell her about my newest adventure. I want to sit with her and order a fat stack o' pancakes and laugh about my predicament while pouring sweet, sugary syrup over my food and sipping heavily creamed coffee. And you know what, I will call her. Maybe see if she wants to talk. Give her an apology. She deserves it after all.\n\nYes, I can make this work. We can take off, I've got some money; Lord knows she does too. We can run off, and figure out how to live our lives under the threat of imminent annihilation. Finally, I'd stumbled upon the formula for happiness!\n\nI'll call her right now, in fact. Just pick up that phone and select her name from a relatively short list. It feels like I'm a teenaged boy about to ask the cheerleader to prom. But first, I need to get the door. Somebody won't stop fucking knocking. I wonder who could be here on a Saturday morning?", "There are some dark deeds that cry out for the opposite of forgiveness. There are deeds that can never absolved, or forgotten, or gotten over. My uncle committed such a deed, and he tried to buy my forgiveness by leaving me his fortune.\n\nMy uncle wasn't a rich fuck. He's what could be called a wealthy bastard. I'm not going to tell you his name, but it wouldn't matter because you wouldn't recognize it if I did. That's how wealthy he was, he wasn't famous. If that doesn't make sense, think about it this way, after all the years of outrage about there wall street assholes that almost bankrupted the US economy, how many of them can you name off the top of your head? If you answered anyone other than Bernie Madoff, then you're either lying, or your obsessed with financial and political information. At the very least, you'd have to admit you're a rarity right?\n\nThe reason you don't know who the guys behind the financial crash are comes down to two things. US culture has been groomed to have a short attention span, and US media knows who's buttering their bread. The wealthier you are, the less your name gets put into news reports without your consent, and the more you can get away with. If you're wealthy enough, not only will cops and courts look the other way, but so will family members. When the choice comes down to believing a crying child, or risking being cut out of an inheritance that can set you up for life... it's not hard to do the math and decide which variable can be isolated. \n\nSometimes I think I'm being too generous to my uncle by believing he left me the lions share of his money and assets as an act of penance. It seems more like it was a big \"fuck you\" to his brothers and sisters and in laws for not having the courage to call him out... for never being able to look him in they eye and tell him they knew he was full of shit like I did. He often told me that I was the only one who wouldn't kiss his ass and call it ice cream. The only one who called it like he saw it. I think that's maybe why he decided to target me. To break me.\n\nAfter he was gone, I was a shattered and empty vessel. Knowing that my parents, and their siblings were left with a pittance and that I was now the one everyone else was waiting around to see dead was too much to bear. Seeing in their eyes that they thought all that money, and the cars and the houses somehow made it right in the end... it was more than I could take.\n\nAfter spending a year burying myself in hedonistic thrills and realizing they'd never salve the pain.. I started researching to find out what kind of dark and brutal things could be purchased in the darker corners of the internet. After a two year process of verification and making sure I was certain everything was set up right I made the contract and sent it to the assassin I'd chosen. \n\nThe terms were that she would try to kill me once a month, but could only take a shot when I was in the vicinity of one of the people in the extensive files I'd sent her, which was every one of my aunts and uncles and both my parents. If she managed to kill the person next to me she'd be paid 500 grand. If that person was killed or injured, I was off limits for another month. If she couldn't kill either of us during a 12 hour window, we were both off limits for another month and she would be paid 250 grand for her time, which would be reduced by 50 grand each additional time she failed to kill either person during the 12 hours. If she manages to kill me, she'll get 20 Million Dollars and a house in the Bahamas so long as the other family member lives.\n\nAfter that, I gathered my family together, and told them that information had come to light that one of them was trying to have me killed. I told them further that my new will was written in strong terms that would make it a certainty that if I should die of foul play or questionable circumstances, to be determined by my executor, that the majority of my fortune would be dispersed to charities across the globe, with a minimal portion going to them, and any attempt to contest it would be guaranteed to drag out long enough in court time and have enough fees that they'd go broke before before they got anything.\n\nIt was also made clear that the only circumstances under which I'd consider revising my will would be if I was certain that my family was no longer a threat to me. I also stipulated that any family member who tried to protect me from harm would be compensated, and if they died in an attempt to save me, their next of kin would be given 50 million dollars, so long as I was still alive. Anyone who started becoming scarce and avoiding me would be cut out of the will entirely. \n\nIt was the oldest of my remaining uncles who died first. His wife died the following month. They keep coming around to make sure I'm okay. I keep taking my walks through the city, or my holidays around the world, always offering to bring anyone along who wants to join me. There's always at least one who does. \n\nI keep praying that \"Jennifer\" (or whatever the hell her real name is) will take me down before she's killed all of them. \n\nI so desperately want one of them to watch me die, and feel a sense of panic at the thought that the rest of the family will blame them for it. \n\nI want to pass the bitter cup of sorrows to one of them, as my uncle did to me, but with a lot of bloody interest." ]	3
	[WP] In a world where every fortune cookie turns out to be true, fortune cookies become darker and more sinister every year. You bought the one that had that was rated the scariest fortune of all time.	[ "You scream in terror and crush the small cookie in your trembling hand. It can not be. After all this time it has finally happened. Other fortunes were coming true, so there isn't any reason that yours won't either. Horrified, you sprint out of the restaurant as fast as you can. You don't look back, you just run. \nAfter what feels like hours, you look back at the scrap of paper in your hand and feel faint. You still cant believe that God would allow something as horrible as this to ever happen on his Earth.\nYou feel light headed and fall to the ground.\nThe last thing you see, before you pass out, are those words that can make any sane person quake in fear:\n\"Spice Girls Reunion Tour - 2016\"" ]	1
	[WP] You finally gather the courage to end your own life but when you put the gun up to your head and pull the trigger, the bullet simply bounces off. You've discovered you're invincible. How do you react?	[ "At last the tool to end my life\n\nTo finish off strong, to end my strife\n\nNo more to remember those moments most trying\n\nLike the moment when I first saw that my mother was crying\n\nThe tool of my choice, so shiny and bold\n\nA colt 1911 so heavy and old\n\nAs I press the fun end to my head\n\nI think \"Hey, I'm probably better off dead\"\n\nA press of the trigger, the heaviest of all\n\nLeads to a click and little more, my end here is stalled\n\nI pull back the slide and try again\n\nTo ignite the coal black powdery grain\n\nAnd with some success fire the round\n\nAnd notice that somehow I am still 'round\n\nFire off another and see that I've found\n\nMy life is not ended, my life is still sound\n\nWhy I have this power, no one may know\n\nBut I still walk so out I go\n\nInto the world where everyone must know\n\nThe dent in my head still stinging\n\nMy right ear still ringing\n\nAnd then is when I see, a girl no older than three.\n\nPlaying in the street with her ball\n\nNot knowing the car that is coming may end it all\n\nSo with my new power, or curse shall I say\n\nSave a little girl and have a good day.", "I looked at the gun in my shaking hand. It was still warm.\n\nI looked at the opposite wall. It now had a lovely little hole in it.\n\nI looked in the mirror. My head, strangely, did not match the wall.\n\nIn my distressed state, at first all I could manage was to sit there in shock. The logical conclusion sat in plain sight, and yet I was too shocked and adrenalized and lingeringly terrified to figure it out. Fortunately, however, my brain seemed to reboot itself about a minute later, and it decided I needed to test my hypothesis.\n\nI fired again.\n\nThe wall grunted in protest.\n\n\"Oh hell yes!\" I shouted, jumping up from the little stool in the center of my bedroom-- which was entirely too dramatic in hindsight.\n\nFor the first time in forever, I felt excitement rising in my chest-- or maybe I should say overwhelming me from the chest outwards, because it's not every day you find out you have freaking super powers! Relief flashed in the back of my mind, informing me I was glad my original evening plans hadn't worked out. Instead of dwelling on it though, I decided I wanted to have more exciting moments and I wanted them right now. \n\nSo naturally, the first logical course of action at that point was to jump out my fourteenth story window.\n\n\"Geronimo!\" I whooped in delight, laughing as I free-fell for what felt like an eternity. As the wind wrapped itself around me and I caught a glimpse of the city lights, it occurred to me that maybe this was what my life had been missing. Why wouldn't I have wanted to kill myself, without this feeling in my life? I don't even know what to call it, I so lacked it before. Is it actually fun? Elation? Bliss?\n\nIs this why most people fall in love?\n\nEventually, however, my spiritual moment came to a very abrupt and very literal halt, and I felt my entire body compress into the concrete.\n\nIt didn't hurt. Actually, it even felt good.\n\nAs I relaxed into the new imprint of myself in the asphalt, I idly wondered how far these newfound powers of mine extended. Could I stop eating? Stop breathing? Was I immune to disease? And if so, what could I do with it all? I resolved to answer each of every one of those questions, and preferably in the most dangerous ways possible. \n\nFor now though, I decided to take a nap in my little crater in the middle of the road. Hopefully I wouldn't be hit by a car-- the fees at the body shop alone would be astronomical! I chuckled to myself at the thought, feeling more emotions than I had in years. I'd expected today to be a good day, though for entirely different reasons. What I didn't expect was for tomorrow to be looking even better." ]	2
	[WP] You're a German citizen in 1937, an alien just landed in your front yard and asked you to take him to your leader	[ "\"Come with me Herr Al Neon, I will bring you to him\" I splutter nervously\n\n\"THANK YOU HUMANOID, WE WOULD LIKE TO MAKE DEMOCRATIC CONTACT WITH YOUR SPECIES\" the alien replies through some kind of electronic device that is too loud, the closest thing I could liken it to, would be a radio.\n\nWe walk down a long clean street, cars busy driving back and forth, lorries delivering goods, a general lively buzz to the streets as the economic depression has ended and we are experiencing the best time of our lives.\n\n\"YOU STILL BURN DEAD ANIMALS AND PLANTS TO FUEL YOUR TRANSPORT MACHINES? THIS IS AMAZING, THE LAST TIME WE SAW THIS ON OUR PLANET WAS 2,000 YEARS AGO IN THE DARK AGES.\" The alien bleeped.\n\n\"Yeah we haven't found any other way to power them yet, hopefully we can learn that from you\" I retorted\n\nthen without warning the alien teleports to hitler and kills him, and then I woke up and it was all a dream.\n\nremember kids, nazis are bad.\n\n\"Yeah we haven't found any other way to power them yet, hopefully we can learn that from you\" I retorted\n\nthen without warning the alien teleports to hitler and kills him, and then I woke up and it was all a dream.\n\"Yeah we haven't found any other way to power them yet, hopefully we can learn that from you\" I retorted\nthen without warning the alien teleports to hitler and kills him, and then I woke up and it was all a dream.\n\"Come with me Herr Al Neon, I will bring you to him\" I splutter nervously\n\n\n\"THANK YOU HUMANOID, WE WOULD LIKE TO MAKE DEMOCRATIC CONTACT WITH YOUR SPECIES\" the alien replies through some kind of electronic device that is too loud, the closest thing I could liken it to, would be a radio.\n\n\nWe walk down a long clean street, cars busy driving back and forth, lorries delivering goods, a general lively buzz to the streets as the economic depression has ended and we are experiencing the best time of our lives.\n\"Come with me Herr Al Neon, I will bring you to him\" I splutter nervously\n\n\n\"THANK YOU HUMANOID, WE WOULD LIKE TO MAKE DEMOCRATIC CONTACT WITH YOUR SPECIES\" the alien replies through some kind of electronic device that is too loud, the closest thing I could liken it to, would be a radio.\nWe walk down a long clean street, cars busy driving back and forth, lorries delivering goods, a general lively buzz to the streets as the economic depression has ended and we are experiencing the best time of our lives.\n\nthe alien replies through some kind of electronic device that is too loud, the closest thing I could liken it to, would be a radio.\nWe walk down a long clean street, cars busy driving back and forth, lorries delivering goods, a general lively buzz to the streets as the economic depression has ended and we are experiencing the best time of our lives.the alien replies through some kind of electronic device that is too loud, the closest thing I could liken it to, would be a radio.\nWe walk down a long clean street, cars busy driving back and forth, lorries delivering goods, a general lively buzz to the streets as the economic depression has ended and we are experiencing the best time of our lives.\n\nthe alien replies through some kind of electronic device that is too loud, the closest thing I could liken it to, would be a radio.\nWe walk down a long clean street, cars busy driving back and forth, lorries delivering goods, a general lively buzz to the streets as the economic depression has ended and we are experiencing the best time of our lives.\n\nthen without warning the alien teleports to hitler and kills him, and then I woke up and it was all a dream.\n\nremember kids, nazis are bad.", "\"Alright, just a bit more now.\"\n\nHe was dressed in your typical were-covering-something-up outfit. Sunglasses, oversized coat, fedora, everything. We were walking along the streets of Berlin headed toward the Reich Chancellery, Hitlers office.\n\n\"Doesn't seem like such a good leader\" said my foreign friend as he looked around the impoverished streets of Berlin. I was still a little weirded out by the fact that I was conversing with an alien, but I knew there was no turning back.\n\n\"Trust me, you have no idea.\" There were rumors going around that Nazi Germany would soon be launching an attack on some select European countries, and starting an all out war, a war that could rival the Great War twenty years ago.\n\nEventually we reached the chancellery. Being Hitler's own private office, this place was outfitted with the best security. We walked up to the guard in front of the main gate. \n\n\"We need to speak to the Fuhrer.\" \n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"We have an important message for him.\"\n\n\"Nobody gets to speak to the Fuhrer. Tell me your message and I will relay it to my superiors.\"\n\nI leaned closer to the guard.\n\n\"We have a... Visitor...\"\n\n\"Great?\" The guard looked confused.\n\n\"No, I mean..., an alien.\"\n\nOnce again, the guard looked confused. After a few seconds, the guard had looked like he had just had a stunning realization.\n\nThe guard quickly opened the gate and walked in.\n\n\"Wait here.\" \n\nGreat, I thought, we'll be speaking to the Fuhrer in no time.\n\n\"Heh, you humans are weird. Anybody could create a plan to make this guard leave his post, and then strike.\"\n\nI heard his voice behind me, but I didn't turn around. I leaned against the gate instead.\n\n\"I'm sure your kind has its quirks too.\"\n\nAfter a few minutes the guard returns to the gate. The guard opens it, returns to our side, pulls out his gun, and shoots the alien in the head. The look of pure shock I had on my face said all that needed to be said. \n\nThe guard turns to me and thanks me. \"Thank you for exposing this vermin to us. We are always grateful when citizens do their part against the impure race.\"\n\n\"NO, YOU IDIOT! NOT THAT TYPE OF ALIEN!\"\n\nI found it ironic saying this. I never imagined that I would be correcting somebody who assumed aliens didn't exist.\n\nThe guard was taken back a bit from my tone. With a concerned look he removed the disguise from the alien's body. Immediately realizing what he had done to otherworldly diplomatic relations, there was only one thing he could say.\n\n\"Shit.\" \n\nEdit: Tweaked the wording a bit.\n\n", "Kaspar Kindler, a kindly man in his late fifties, lived alone in rural Germany. He was tending his small garden when, to his immense surprise, an orb of metal appeared in the center of his backyard. A line of faint light in the shape of a door appeared, and out stepped a humanoid being as grey as Kaspar's hair. It peered at him with almond-shaped black eyes.\n\n\"Greetings, human. Though my ship has malfunctioned and landed me in an unusual location, I do not think it is a problem for my mission. I come in peace, as an ambassador to your planet. We would like to have friendly relations with you. Please, if it is possible, take me to your leader,\" it spoke with a mannish voice from the mouth that appeared on its neck. The line of his mouth - no lips - curled into a kind, awkward smile.\n\nKaspar looked blankly at the alien. A humble, monkish man, Kaspar was not well-educated, and had no thoughts of the world beyond the Earth, for to him, the world was the Earth. He had heard of the idea of extraterrestrial life, but thought it was merely more propaganda that had made its way into public consciousness and infiltrated the perverse Christianity of the Nazi party.\n\nAfter an uncomfortably long silence, the alien spoke up. \"My scanners indicate that I am currently in a subdivision of Earth called Deutsches Reich, and that the name of the leader of this subdivision is Adolf Hitler. If it is possible, please inform me of how I can procure an audience with him. Your help would be most graciously appreciated.\"\n\nHearing the Fuhrer's name jolted Kaspar out of his incomprehension. Whether he understood it or not, believed it or not - an alien was before him, and it wanted to make contact with the leaders of humanity. He could not allow the alien's first contact to be with that terrible man. Thoughts formed in his head - how he had so narrowly escaped arrest through cowardice and renunciation of the tenets of his faith. How his friends, fellow Franciscan monks, had the courage to speak out against the Nazi regime, and had been disappeared, while he escaped by agreeing, agreeing, agreeing. When a copy of the Mit brennender Sorge reached his hands, he burned it in fear of the prison camps, but the words burned his guilt into his mind.\n\n\"My name is Kaspar,\" he stated slowly, \"And though you are right in your statements, the current leader of Germany is not fit to lead humanity, and I fear what he would do upon meeting you. I would like to take you to a better leader, though the journey may be dangerous.\"\n\nThe alien tilted its head, its mouth line disappearing as it thought. \"I have no ability to go without a guide,\" it finally replied, \"As such, very well.\"" ]	3
	[WP] Do not mistake kindness for weakness.	[ "There was nothing so satisfying as the last scream they made before they died. Their last breath, doomed in anguish. It was like a fine wine, or a wonderful meal. I had heard it hundreds of times before, but each was unique. This time it was a couple, newlyweds, just returned from their honeymoon. I'd had my eye on them for some time, but they left so suddenly. It was good fortune for me though, giving me time to prepare for them. I wanted them to feel welcome after all, this was the start of their life together. She went first; his choice. It spared some of the fun, of course, but I made a deal with the man. I let him choose which one went quickly and which one I would savor. Sometimes the men chose themselves, but often times they chose their partners. Love. What can you do? As I finished with her, drinking in that last bit of despair in her voice, I looked at the man, seeing the eyes wide with fear and red with tears. His voice was hoarse from the screaming, but he still yelled. I loved that part. The defiance. Breaking it... mmm, it was wonderful. He would be slow. Oh yes, days perhaps. \n\nAs I carefully cleaned the blood from my knife, I whistled a merry tune, some jingle from the holidays I think. They wanted me to remember to buy a car, but I found it so catchy that I often whistled while I worked. It was hard to hear over the screams, at times, but I whistled nonetheless. My guests deserved a little tune to accentuate their stay. \n\nPutting the knife back in its sheathe, I turned towards the man, ready to give him my full attention. Instead of a young, wide eyes man full of terror, there was a very stern looking man sitting in the chair, dressed immaculately in a clean suit of purest blackness. His hair was cut short and styled handsomely, falling just over his eyes. His eyes. Golden pools that shifted to silver as I watched. Those eyes would look wonderful with the others. I idly wondered if they shifted that way even if they were no longer a part of him. I shivered at the thought of finding out. In some deep recess of my brain, some primal voice called out a warning to me. I ignored it. Those eyes were far to valuable. Outside his eyes, his face was offputtingly handsome, the face of a movie star or a model. I had never seen a man so perfect. I had to have him. \n\n\"Baltraxaz. I finally found you.\" His voice was like the crashing of a great wave upon the rocks, drawing me to it, pulling in with its deep baritone. Anger surged through that voice, along with a deep rightness. Once again, I felt the pang of warning in my head. Wait, who was Baltraxaz?\n\n\"Who are you, lovely? I don't recall seeing you before. And believe me, I'd remember.\" I idly drew the knife from its sheathe, ready to make those eyes mine. I didn't want to rush it, but he looked dangerous, and I decided I wouldn't be able to savor this. \n\n\"Stop hiding, Baltraxaz. You have played inside this mortal long enough.\" The pang of warning was a pounding church bell in my head, and I involuntarily took a step back as I felt my voice responding. \n\n\"Michael. Of course He would send you. He was always too far kind to do this sort of thing himself. Weak.\" The man called Michael's eyes flashed with a great rage, and some inner fire, and before I could blink his hand was on my throat, lifting me effortlessly into the air. \n\n\"Blasphemy would be a very bad idea right now, Balthraxaz. I am already displeased. Count yourself fortunate that my brother could not be here, he would not be so merciful as I am.\" The man's grip was iron on my throat, and I choked against his grip. The inner panic overwhelmed me now, and I found myself fleeing into my mind, desperately trying to hide from those eyes. Even as I hid, I felt something else surging forward. Something that came from the part of me that savored the screams. Something dark and beautiful. It was talking to the man called Michael now. \n\n\"Ha, the traitor was weak as well. Like his Father. He abandoned us to run home to Daddy.\" My limbs suddenly flashed with fire, and not-me grabbed Michael's arm, twisted out of that steel grip. As I toppled to the ground, I looked through eyes that were no longer mine, and instead of a well dressed man, I saw a great tower of light, six wings spreading from its back and a great spear in its hand. Fire burned over its head, and I as I watched, I felt my skin char under the heat of that fire. Blinking, I saw again the well dressed man, standing calmly as I got to my feet. \n\n\"Why, Balthraxaz? Why involve the mortals? You were created to punish them, when they sinned. You should never have left Hell.\" The man made no more aggressive moves, simply standing there, waiting for a response. \n\n\"The screams of sinners have a certain flavor, Michael, but nothing like the screams of the innocent. They are the finest vintage.\" Those eyes flashed again and I screamed inside my head. \"Do you know why it took you so long to find me, Michael? It's because all these mortals are weak! They are all such awful sinners that even my killings were but a few drops in an ocean of death. Ask Anziel. You can't even tell a demon's work from a man's, they are so corrupt.\"\n\n\"Not all of them, Balthraxaz. Some, like the man you were about to kill, are kind and brave. He chose the path of pain, in an attempt to spare his love. He chose his own suffering over hers.\" Michael's eyes were blazing now, moving from gold to silver too fast for me follow. \n\n\"Kindness! Pah! Weakness is what it is. He couldn't save her, and he begged me to spare her. He would have run with his tail between his legs if I let him. We would abandon her to save his own life, every time! HE. WAS. WEAK!\" I screamed at Michael, feeling fire surge through my lungs. \n\n\"I think not, Balthraxaz. He is stronger than you know. Do not mistake kindness for weakness.\" There was a sudden pain in my chest, and I looked down to see the knife, MY knife, sticking out of my chest. As I looked behind me, I saw the man whose life I just ruined staring at me with blazing eyes, clutching the knife in his bloodied hands. I roared, and fire spat from not-my mouth, ready to incinerate the man. Before it could however, a hand clamped over my mouth and I felt the fire searing my lungs. That iron grip pulled, and some part of me tore free, dragged out by his powerful hands. As I sagged, feeling the life ebb away from me, I saw something huge and grotesque squirming in Michael's grip, he raised his hand, and at the edge of my consciousness, I saw that great spear ripped through whatever had been pulled from me. There was an unearthly scream and a flash of light. \n\n\"Hello.\" I was kneeling in the house again, looking at Michael clutching the body of the monster that had been in me. As I turned to the voice, I saw a man, dressed very much like Michael had been. He was slighter, with longer hair, all white, but no less handsome than Michael. He had the same eyes. The eyes I yearned for. His suit was pure white. \n\n\"I've come to take you home.\" He reached out for me, helping me to my feet, and I took his hand, pulling forward as my hand struck upward, aiming for those eyes. His kind gesture would cost him his eyes, and I would be free. Instead of pulling him off balance, I felt myself trying to pull down the Earth, and my hand slowed to a stop in front of his face. He looked at me with a sad smile, and then those eyes stared into mine. \"I've been expecting you, Aaron. I heard you likes my eyes.\" Suddenly those eyes shone again and I screamed. I screamed and screamed as I stared into those eyes. My last thought before my consciousness shattered was Michael's observation. You should never mistake kindness for weakness. " ]	1
	[WP] There is a dull knife by your bedside table.	[ "I look at it with anger and disgust. I hated that knife with all my passion, but at the same time I could not let go. \"Useless knife. You're not helping me, feh, you can't even slice butter. Piece of crap.\" I shook myself out of it. I slapped some water on my face and got ready for today. Of course, I would take the knife with me. After all, it was my knife. \n\nAt work, I grabbed the whetstone and began sharpening my knife. The head chef walks in. \"Mornin' Gabe. Gettin' ready for today?\" \n\n\"Yeah, gettin' ready.\" I didn't even look at him. I kept sharpening my knife. \n\n\"Gabe, you know, there are other knives you can use. You don't need to bring your own knife daily, heh, you can even use mine!\"\n\n\"I appreciate it, but this is my knife. I want to use my own knife.... thank you for the offer though.\" \n\n\"Well, whatever you want.\"\n\nThis is my knife. Although easily dulled, it was my first knife ever. I wouldn't dare let it go, or ever forget it. I take to the floor and start working. The knife slowly dulls again, as it did yesterday. The head chef looks at me with curiosity and a condescending look, but I continue working with my dull knife. \n\nThe day ends. I get home, undress from my work clothes and got ready for bed. I place the knife on my bedside table and fall asleep, anxious to prove my knife's worth the next day. \n_________________________________________________________________\n\nThank you for reading.", "On my nightstand there is a dull knife. I'm sure as I sleep it dreams of the days when it was shiny and new.\n\nThis dull knife sits, waiting patiently.\n\nI will never sharpen it and yet it sits, expectant that one day I'll renew it to its former glory. Of course this knife has lost its innocence. Just like myself.\n\nIt once was an ordinary kitchen knife, a tomato knife. It was once used to slice tomatoes, long ago that was the only red that it saw.\n\nThese days though it longs for the simple times. Sometimes I do as well. Those days where it was rarely used but had a simple utilitarian purpose. I suppose it still does serve a sort of utilitarian function even now. But both the knife and I know that we were not originally designed for the things we now do. The crimes we commit.\n\nIn my basement is a man. I'm sure as I sleep he dreams of the days when he was whole and hopeful.\n\nThis man is waiting, patiently.\n\nI will never release him and yet he sits, expectant that one day I'll release him to live his former life. Of course this man has long since lost his innocence, just like myself.\n\nOnce he was an ordinary man, a handsome man. He once laughed and loved, long ago those were the only things that he knew.\n\nThese days though he longs for the simple times. Sometimes I do as well. Those days he was rarely hurt and didn't serve utilitarian purpose. I suppose he does serve a superfluous function even now. But both the man and I know that we were not originally designed for the things we do now. The crimes we've committed.\n\nIn my heart there is a secret. As I sleep I dream of the days when I was shiny and new.\n\nThe secret sits, waiting patiently.\n\nI will never say it out loud but yet it sits, expectant that one day I'll release it to the world. Of course I have lost my innocence, and that is my secret.\n\nI was once an ordinary girl, a cheerful girl. I once used to laugh and love, and long ago those were the only things that I knew.\n\nThese days though I long for the simple times. The times when we were happy together. The times when I had no purpose aside from being his punching bag. Those days I was rarely lost. I suppose I'm still not lost yet, I know who I am even now. But all three of us know that I was not originally designed for the purpose I serve now. The crimes I keep committing.\n\nAnd this knife, this man, and I, we dance together as the sweet song of his screams dies up against the concrete walls. As the sweet song of the knife against bone dies up against the concrete walls. As the sweet song of our love died against the concrete walls." ]	2
	[WP] In a world where eye color changes based on mood, tell me the story of someone with a mental disorder.	[ "February 28th, 2016. OK. Today's the day.\n\nAs the day begins, everything seems to go well. \"That's a good sign,\" I told myself. My milk wasn't sour and I didn't spill any as I poured it into my cereal (even though my hands were still shaking...), I still had plenty of toothpaste left, and then, as the time came and I sat down at my computer, it was still free of viruses.\n\n\"You can do it, Felix,\" I told myself, determined to see this through.\n\nI booted up the computer, loaded up the internet (shout-out to FiOS for that speed though!), navigated to twitch.tv, and began my everyday-but-not-so-everyday livestream:\n\n\"Good morning, Twitch. My name is Felix (as you all know), and today marks the beginning of my new webseries. I've held out on announcing its name until now, because, well... I've held out on it because I want this to have maximum effect. This new webseries, beginning today, is called, \"The Chronicles of A Disturbed.\"\n\nAs I said that, I reached up, and carefully removed the purple-colored contacts in my eyes, uncovering what lay beneath. My lenses dropped into the trash beside me. I watched on the screen as my eyes flashed the darkest of blacks, before, like food coloring dropping in water, they metamorphose into a deep, blood red.\n\nI continued (my knees shaking, and sweat starting to pool at my forehead pores), \"I am A Disturbed in our society, and from this day forth, I am no longer ashamed to admit it. I must fight for our freedom. I feel compelled to advocate for the overturning of the laws that bar our country from importing or producing the drugs that assist people like me in our quest for life. I find myself feeling a sense of duty to this cause that has yet to develop a leader. I feel a sense of duty to be that leader.\"\n\nAs I spoke, I continued to observe my eyes. I watched as they gradually advanced from their blood red, to a dark, bold blue. In truth, the process was fascinating to me -- Having almost always worn my contact lenses, even I had rarely witnessed how my eyes \"did their thing.\" Unlike the ink-blotch-like metamorphosis of their first development, the change from red to blue mirrored the slow progression of fear and anxiety into confidence. I first noticed a tiny spot of blue in my left eye, and then a slightly larger spot in my right. \n\nThen, as I continued to speak to my steadily growing audience, the spots grew larger. Unlike the first ink-blotch-like change, however, both eyes changed differently. My left eye evolved a blue outer ring that eventually enclosed the red, then slowly snuffed it out, growing inwards. My right eye, however, seemed to \"push\" the red out, by expanding its deep blue spot. Both were equally enchanting to witness.\n\nThe most beautiful part, however, was when I realized that I was delighting in my eyes. For the first time in my life, I was defying society and what everyone told me I had to be like. I saw the beauty in my condition. It was an innocent feeling -- I felt like a child again -- and I loved it. As I continued to speak to my listeners, both the regulars and the new, I appreciated my eyes more and more. \"I am unique, I am special,\" I asserted to myself.\n\nAs that appreciation grew, I was overjoyed to view as my eye color danced into a royal purple. There was no discernible rhyme nor reason to this change, however. It was a sporadic, unpredictable, yet innocent mutation.\n\nAt this point, I could almost feel my eyes' color changing with my emotion. My smile grew, and my posture straightened in my chair, and I continued preaching.\n\nAlthough... The happiness didn't last long. I was far from even halfway through my planned speech that day, when my door was broken down and policemen stormed my house. The last I saw of my eyes on my computer screen, one flashed into the same blood red from before, and the other into a light blue -- then I was pulled away from my computer, pulled out of my house, and crammed into the back of a police car.\n\nI had imagined that there would be a rather dramatic reaction to my broadcast, but I hadn't predicted or anticipated this. When they told me I had been arrested for \"threatening to disrupt the peace\"... that was when the hopelessness set in, and, in the window reflection, I saw as my second eye changed from its blood red into the light blue of the first eye. The worst part was when a young girl, no older than 5, walked by with her mother, and, already subscribed to the fashion of our society, shot me as nasty a look as she could muster. She had seen my eyes change. She saw who I was. She was not happy.\n\nAs I was chauffeured away from my home to the police station though, a glimmer of hope slithered its way into my heart. Meanwhile, in my eyes' performance, the royal purple from before snaked its way from the outside of my eyes, to the pupil, and then around and around until it had completely re-conquered one of my eyes again. This was going to be harder than I thought, but the ball had begun to roll, and finally, people were going to start becoming aware of the struggles of The Disturbed. After all, we were people like no other.\n\nThat was when, finally, I could find it in myself, to, for the first time, thank my parents for the person they molded me into. I had cowered for too long in the face of their abuse, and I had spent too long living in the shadow of the condition they forced on me. It was time to take what I was given, and do something with it. I had cast aside my black market contact lenses, I had revealed my true colors to the world, and now, the world would commence showing me its true colors. I couldn't wait to see what the world had in store for me next.\n\nTo be continued...(?!?!)", "I wake up, groggy, mouth dry I stumble into the washroom wondering how I even got home. slowly washing my face I look into the mirror peeling my hands slowly off my face down over my nose and mouth. I notice my left eye is blue and my right eye is red. Feeling my mouth frown and seeing my reflection in the mirror smile I wonder what happened last night. whatever it was it wasn't a good thing.\n\nI struggle as I put my pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else. oh how I wished I was like everyone else. Wishing and praying that today was the day the ban on sunglasses was lifted I pull the cowl of my jacket low over my eyes and head out. Back into the fray. Looking into the mirror one last time to calm myself, both eyes blue.\n\nas I walked outside on this unnaturally warm and bright day out even the fact that my cowl was pulled low is drawing attention. Every window I walked past is see my reflection, I'm wearing shorts and no jacket, almost gallant in my stride eyes red as the devil inside me. Reflection, proud of what it's done.\n\nLooking at a news paper stand, front page, My face, black eyes. hands sweating as I put the money in for the paper. Reading in shock I put the paper down, reflection on the news paper stand I can see both my eyes at different intervals flashing. Blue, black, green, purple, white and red. Acting like a duck. calm on the outside but my feet every churning on the inside I knew what had to be done.\n\nMy father always said that the second you blame someone else you are admitting that you have lost control of the situation. I am in control, I did this. Even if it was the devil inside me. It's still me. Blue, Green, purple, white, even black can typically agree, but not red. always not red.\n\nPulling my cowl low I trudged over to the police station. Everyone looking at me as I entered with my face covered. Slowly I reveal my face. Four Police officers eyes turning the hard green of the law, Two more turning vengeful red. All six of their chairs tipping over.\n\nHandcuffed and questioned. They show me the pictures of the bodies. allowing me to turn my head just enough to see a mirror. Left eye Red, Right eye Black. I feel no remorse, I see my mouth laugh manically as I admit, proudly of what I had done.\n\nWaking in my cell. months later, Red and black no where to be found as I have no freedom to play. Using the reflection of the water in my sink, both eyes blue. If you deserve a beating you should take a beating. If you deserve to be killed you should be killed. I accept the justice I, If I can call it I have wrought. ", "\"Ms. Thomas, do you know why you're in my office?\" \nI started to fidget, begging myself not to make a sound. This was my first time at the principal's. If I got through this quietly, my perfect record won't be ruined. \nJust had to keep quiet. I know I didn't do anything wrong. \n\"It's rude not to answer a question Ms. Thomas.\" \nSo much for that. \n\"No ma'am, I don't.\" \nShe looked grave behind that massive desk of hers. Or it might have been how her cheeks sagged. Whether she was frowning or unsettled, I couldn't tell. As long as I kept pleasant, Principal Heather will let me go. \n\"Well,\" the principal started, \"I don't know what it is you're smiling about. But Jack Piles told me over lunch break that you were bullying him.\" \n\"No!\" I shouted it before I could understand what she said. So much for getting a recommendation from her, but me? Bullying Jack?! \n\"Calm down, it's not as bad as you think.\" It didn't sound reassuring coming from her, but when a teacher--- no, when a principal tells you you're bullying the boy you like, you can't stop thinking about it, and guessing yourself, and wonder what you said, and--- \n\"Take a breath Ms. Thomas.\" My lungs filled, then released. Suddenly my head didn't feel so light. \"Good. Now tell me your side.\" \nThe school yard an hour ago. \n\"I asked Jack if I could talk with him a moment.\" \n\"That's it?\" She asked. \n\"Of course n--- No ma'am.\" Reign it in Lisa, this isn't the club room. \"He followed me to the tables at the back and asked what was up. When he finished getting his words out, I--- Jeez Mrs. Heather, it wasn't anything bad.\" \nLike hell I was going to tell her what I told him. \n\"Ms. Thomas, you're here because you're accused of bullying.\" I decided she was frowning under those cheeks. \"We have a zero tolerance rule about that, if the weekly school assemblies fail to jog your memory.\" \n\"I know, I'm there every week,\" I said. \"But... can I talk with him first, get Jack to clear this up?\" \nJack had to clear this up. \n\"No. You could shut him up from ever talking with a teacher again. I won't risk that. Now you tell me what you told him an hour ago.\" \nA smolder flared in her eyes. I didn't think blues could be so red, but sometimes when dad's team loses... or when Benji's giving a speech in class... \nIt hurt to watch. \nI made some noises. \n\"What was that Ms. Thomas?\" \nI sighed. \n\"I told him his eyes were beautiful.\" \nThe principal's own returned to a familiar, stern blue. \"Oh Lisa.\" \nI blushed. It was my first time trying to ask out a boy, but the way he looked at me... That rainbow swirl spiraling at me. Through me. It was all I could say. \nWhen he ran, I thought he was embarrassed. I was fine with him being shy. \nBut... \n\"Take a handkerchief Ms. Thomas.\" \nI ripped a tissue from her desk and wiped my cheeks. \n\"I'm sorry this happened. As I said, it wasn't as bad as you thought, but you made me believe otherwise for a moment there.\" The principal smirked like a teenager. \"Wouldn't have thought our theater club president was in---\" \n\"Don't say it Ms. Heather!\" \nIt was too much. I couldn't have her making fun of me. \nThe principal's tone was lighter. \"Just making conversation Lisa. Look, I don't think you meant anything by it. But with Jack's needs, it's easy for his peers to point at his eyes and tell him he's special needs.\" Her tone became somber. \"It's not his fault though. The boy's a high-functioning---\" \n\"Please, don't.\" \nShe crooked an eyebrow. \"It's good you're eager to speak, but I don't like being interrupted either.\" \n\"I know, but...\" How was I going to tell her this without sounding like an idiot? \"He's Jack the math nerd with the rainbow eyes to me. I want to find out the rest myself.\" \nAn old hand took mine on the desk and gave it a soft squeeze. \"Alright Ms. Thomas. Do you want to explain what happened to him then?\" \nPrincipal Heather did a poor job masking her grin. She knew what she meant by that question. \nMy face flushed again. \"I think I can handle it.\" \nShe laughed, making herself comfortable in the large chair. \"Do your best then. And good luck!\" \nI got up and made my way out as fast as I could, putting the last five minutes behind me. \nTried to, anyway. \nDo your best then. \nOh why did she have to say that? \n" ]	3
	[WP] One city is full of psychopaths. You are the only citizen that is not.	[ "The Chamber of the Mind was never silent, not exactly. Air hissed from vents above, chairs clinked as the high council took their seats, and whispers flittered from one side to the other. My own seat was too tall, something I should have gotten used to years ago, and yet I still wiggled against hard plastic as the council began. The calm, almost robotic introduction stole over the other sounds, and I tried to settle. Only my breathing did not succumb. It jerked raggedly from my chest, pushed by a pounding heart. \n\n\"Population has expanded by 0.89%,\" Speaker Milcet reported, as I had known he would. His hands folded neatly before him, dark against the stark white of his council sash. \"Given a constant increase consistent with our previous data, we will exceed optimum sustainable yield in approximately two years.\"\n\nAround me, other council members read through the provided reports. My own had been flipped through enough times to run down the tablet's battery. The numbers, methodology, and even statistics held no holes I could see. My hands shook, and I pressed them against the desk that encircled the council, hoping to hide the motion.\n\n\"Councilwoman Jett, what is the margin of error?\" High Councilman Balik asked; his pale, gleaming hair remained unmoved even as the vents overhead increased airflow.\n\nThe tall woman slipped from her chair with the grace of her namesake. \"Calculations report 1.003185, plus or minus .000003.\"\n\n\"Acceptable,\" High Councilman Balik said. Each member nodded exactly once. The only exception was me, and I flinched so hard it likely resembled a nod. Only my immediate neighbor would have noted the difference. As the woman had long-since concluded my intelligence to be that of a child's, small anomalies were expected from me, and she did not so much as glance my way. High Councilman shifted his gaze to the Speaker. \"Proposed action?\"\n\n\"Lower maximum age limitation on labor class by three years.\" Speaker Milcet's voice held as much feeling as his utterly blank eyes. \"We calculate population growth will slow by 0.094%. To account for the decrease in the labor class, raise the minimum test scores for military and merchant class by 10 points.\"\n\nAir swirled through the council, twisting between the calm faces. I couldn't breathe.\n\n\"Your proposal will not arrest population growth,\" the High Councilman said.\n\n\"That is why we also propose increasing infertility clinics as well as prenatal testing on genetic acceptability. We conclude that such methods would account for an additional .55% of the growth. By increasing minimum scores for placement, euthanasia will cover the remaining discrepancy. A second study is in progress as we speak to uncover the ideal score for this measure.\"\n\n\"Your words have been heard,\" High Councilman droned. The formal echo of it by the members spread around the room but stuck in my throat. Speaker Milcet bowed and took his seat at the far end of the chamber. I couldn't move. The whispers of the room, the rustling of clothes, and the movement of air were drowned out by the rush of blood in my ears. Murder. They spoke of it like they spoke of rain, and I could take it no more. \n\nI straightened in my chair, its height forgotten. Against my palm, I tapped three short signals. Each dispatched an embedded, long-hidden message to the only people in the whole cursed city I could trust. The council continued, unaware that in the heart of their chamber a war had begun.", "\"Ricky Rhody! Ricky Rhody, you get back here right now.\"\n\nPoor old Ricky Rhody, crazy as a loon and as naked as a newborn stops humping his telephone pole long enough to give me an evil little look. Then he returns to his bucking and howling, somehow thinking in his addled mind that it'll be enough to convince the squirrel that he's chased up there to come back down and play the bongos on his molars.\n\nHowever, it's mid-November, I'm freezing, and I'm not having any more of it.\n\n\"RICKY RHODY YOU GET YOUR LITTLE WHITE TUSH OVER HERE THIS INSTANT OR I'LL SIC THE GREAT GOOSE ON YOU!!!\"\n\nWell, that gets his attention. He wails and covers his eyes with his hands, then crabwalks across the broken sidewalk to where I stand with my hands on my hips and the toe of my right foot tapping away.\n\n\"That's better,\" I say, reaching into my handbag. I pull out a red wool cap with extra long stringties and snuggl it down on his bald, lumpy head. He growls and starts pawing at it, but I put my hand on the center of the hat and press down.\n\n\"Now I made this for you special, you hear? And it better last the whole winter or I'll go get that nasty Great Goose to come down on you like some avian God from Egypt or wherever. You hear me?\"\n\nRicky Rhody whimpers. There is no Great Goose - never had been, never would be - but that doesn't stop him from fearing it any less. He pops one of the stringties in his mouth and starts chewing on it as he shuffles away. I made the ties extra long this time...I'd hope that they'll last until March, but know that they'll be lucky to see the start of February.\n\nDelivery finished, I head on back to my apartment. On my way, I pass the Hissy Sissies, a pair of snake-tattooed transvestites who've killed maybe a hundred people together. They widen their surgically altered eyes as I step between them and flick their forked tongues in a greeting, which I return. Nice boys...or girls, I don't know, I don't keep up on the terminology. Nice - so long as they don't try to eat you like the mice they practice swallowing whole.\n\nTommy Thinsticks gives me a lewd look from outside the bar where he works. He's been after me for years, and he is an absolutely handsome devil. And if I were to go with him to his bed, I know he'd give me a night more pleasurable than any of the few hundred I've had during my wild youth. Of course, I'd also end up sitting in a forest somewhere with my severed head in my lap and a daffodil in my mouth, just like the other girls who were foolish enough to go to bed with him. It's been a while since I've had someone skilled knock around downstairs, and I do love nature, but...I figure I'll pass just the same.\n\nThere are other monsters and murderers that I greet or ignore along the way, as per their preferences. The Bowler and his collection of polished skulls gets a \"hello\". Annie Grease, who makes the best kidney soup you've ever tasted (\"humanely harvested, of course\" she always says with a lying wink) gets. Nick Morbid gets the same. Nothing for Grungettal. The Real Tones, a band who that on soundboards filled with real human screams alongside the sounds of knives entering flesh, prefers to be ignored. Porkula (a very silly name for a very frightening man) likes a smile and nothing else. Beluga Brie, The Strangled Toddler, Herr Doktor, and a dozen others have their own idiosyncratic greetings. What's strange is that I get a rare smile from the old, nameless blind man two stoops down, the one who polishes fingerbones for a living.\n\nI don't say anything to him though. If I did, he'd kill me, and that's not a joke.\n\nPeople don't understand how I stay alive in this town. I tell them that the crazed are a lot more human than you'd expect. And when they ask me why I would even want to live here, I just laugh and tell them that I got a good deal on my apartment. Then I change the subject.\n\nThe truth is that it's nice to live in a place where you know exactly who your neighbors are and what they're capable of. There are no lies to sift through, no social dances with a billion complicated steps to learn, and nobody tries to hide their horrible deeds. Everyone is real here. And that's just something you don't find in the world outside.\n\nPlus, I did get a really great deal on my apartment. Anyway...what's the weather supposed to be this weekend?" ]	2
	[WP] Whenever you listen to a song, for the duration of that song, you are literally taken back to the first time you heard it.	[ "\"This is the end, my only friend, the end\" Jim Morrison called out to him from a distant and deep hole, the music a cacophony of noise reverberating around his skull as he felt the cold of the concrete beneath him seep through his clothing. \n\nNo, he thought. \n\nNot tonight. \n\nHe already knew he couldn't move. Broken leg, concussion, bullet in the chest, and barely enough will just to stay alive. It all healed in time, but this pain was supposed to remain a distant and muted memory. He let out an involuntary shout, part gurgle, as the pain rebounded from adrenalin and pressed through the thin tissue of his fractured consciousness. \n\n\"He needs help! Someone! I think he's dying! He's not breathing!\" a woman was screaming through shaky sobs over him, for a moment her voice even overpowered the doors. He felt the wetness through the pain, like a moving itch. The dripping blood off of the side of his chest was acute, the tickle of the crimson river transmuted his pain as his muscles stressed to relieve the sensation. \n\n\"To the lake, the ancient lake, baby\" Jim called to him, seemingly from the nether. He was no longer aware of the woman above him as the cold concrete melded with his body. He fell into it, sliding like a raindrop off of a leaf. The hot of the blood on his chest became a cold nothing. \n\n\"It hurts to set you free\"\n\nThe concrete was a cold nothing. He could feel the dark lake of the abyss beneath him reach up to accept him through the concrete. \n\n\"But you'll never follow me\"\n\nHe sank into the inky darkness. All that existed was the darkness, and the few strings of broken thought. Even the cold crept away, scared to face what was coming next. \n\n\"The end of nights we tried to die \"\n\n\"We're losing him!\" another voice shouted, followed by a fresh pain as liquid fire ignited his veins beginning from a fresh puncture in his chest. Tracing the pathways through his body, a new and uncomfortable warmth set every nerve ending ablaze. His eyes open, and he is suddenly aware of his breathing. \n\nThis is the end\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nHe started with a jolt, shaking away the dream in a panic. He was still holding the remote, having just selected The End from his playlist. His friends were staring at him, some with a smile on their face. \n\n\"You ok, man?\" his closest friend Brian asked. \n\nHe looked at his friend for a moment, using the awkwardness to feign collecting his thoughts. Already the dream was slipping away, returning to its station deep in hisy repressed memories. \n\n\"Yeah, hey, sorry. I just kind of got caught up, didn't realize I had a bad memory tied to this\" he said, only then realizing his eyes were puffy from tears. \n\nAs everyone got up to move to the small fire in the back yard, he pondered the remote and stereo briefly before reaching behind and unplugging it. \n", "I thought it was bullshit. A whole club of people blinking in and out of existence until someone managed to remain in reality long enough to shut off the music. Slowly and steadily, the remainder rematerialized, exhausted and confused, reporting the same thing: every time they had disappeared, they had been taken back to a moment from their past. A moment where they had heard the song that had been booming through the speakers. Many alleged it was the moment when they had first heard the particular song. At the song's conclusion, they reappeared at the club only to be whisked away to the past once again by the playlist's next hit. It took the heroic efforts of one man who had never heard of Daft Punk to break free from the cycle and save everyone from an eternity of musical flashbacks.\n\nTabloid garbage. Or drugs. Probably a combination. That's the kind of news I get for listening to pop radio, but I don't have much of a choice out here. There are few stations and no internet; just me and my men, and sometimes, the enemy.\n\nA week passed since the \"Escapade Escapade,\" named for the club at which it occurred. Similar incidents were being reported more and more each day, no doubt fabricated by copycats looking for attention. Even here in the barracks, there were rumors of men disappearing, but only the overly anxious paid them any heed. It was not until yesterday that my convictions were shaken: devastating car accidents were being reported all across the nation. Apparently, drivers were completely vanishing from behind the wheel, causing pileups all over the highway. That wasn't all, though. The drivers would reappear minutes later in the places their cars had been before they vanished. In many cases, this would be in the middle of the highway, and if their car hadn't crashed close enough to stop incoming traffic, they would usually end up run over then and there. The survivors of these incidents were living evidence that something supernatural was occurring: even though their car had crashed, they would be completely clean and uninjured.\n\nUnderstanding the implications, I shut off my radio, though the station had already ceased playing any music for now. Within a few minutes of these reports, the leader of my unit burst into our room and announced that there was to be a complete ban of music of any sort. I could only hope that nobody would be a jackass about this and send people to the past for fun. That should have apparently been the least of my worries, though.\n\nOur base was suddenly wracked by vibrations. The enemy was upon us, and they hadn't brought bombs. A familiar tune began to play at high volume, and before I could apprehend it, I felt myself being wrenched away from this world. Everything inside me began to collapse, and everything around me blurred out of focus. It was as if I had been punched in the gut so hard, I was sent flying through the frame of the present, all the way back to a time I could no longer remember.\n\nI was four years old. That was how many candles were on my cake. I perceived everything from my childhood body, but could not control it. I could only observe and think and do whatever my four year old mind had chosen to do so eighteen years ago. My parents were standing in front of me, my dad pointing the camcorder at my face. I clapped appreciatively as they sang to me what was now to be both the ode of my life and the knell of my death.\n\n\"Happy birthday to you…\"\n\nAs they finished the song, I blew out the candles. There was an explosion, and everything went dark. " ]	2
Fill in the blank with whatever you want. Solve crime? Do magic? File taxes?	[WP] An unusual sign held by a man on the street: "Will _________ for food."	[ "Mysterious, rebellious, extravagant. These are all descriptions of my encounter with the most peculiar man I ever met. \n\nI remember it as if it were yesterday: \nFriday night, driving home from a long, tiresome day at work, the sky was majestic and life was great.\n\n\n\"Hello good Sir, might you be able to help me?\"\n\n I see a man out of the corner of my eye. He's looking exceptionally well dressed and I pull over wondering what he wants. \n\n\"Thank you for pulling over to talk to me! Now, I was wondering if you could help me, I'm not doing so well financially and I need to make some money to complete a certain task.\"\n\n\"Go on, I'm listening\"\n\n\"Well see, I'll do anything for money\"\n\n\"What do you need the money for?\"\n\n\"If you must ask, it's for a mission to retrieve my colleague Javi Kakedi.\" \n\n\"Who, what? Retrieve?\" \n\n\"Well yes, we need to retrieve Sir Mister Javi Kakedi from the Nigerian space center. He is stranded there and has been for more than 10 years. You are the only person who can help us.\"\n\n\"What's in it for me?\"\n\n\"A trip to the moon.\"\n\n\"Count me in.\"\n\n\"Give me money pls?\"\n\n\"You said that you would do anything for money? I'll pay you to build me a wall around my house. You see, I want to make it great again.\"\n\n\"Deal.\"\n\nI brought him home, we had dinner, he built my wall along the perimeter of my house and all was great. I then handed him a small sum of a million dollars, so that he could help is poor friend stuck up there in space. His eyes looked as if he was reliving his own childhood as they lit up.\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Trump\"\n\n\nThis was 15 years ago and I'm still waiting for my trip to the moon...", "The concrete stairs were slick with greasy rain as I emerged from the subway station. I tugged the collar of my coat up against the biting wind and, barely lifting my head, pushed between two sullen suits in front of me.\n\nI stopped. A young man muttered a curse as he bumped into me. He was swept along in the tide of humanity, taking his expletives with him. I frowned, but not at my new friend’s rapidly disappearing back. There had been something else...\n\nGlancing back towards the subway entrance, I spotted him. A raggedy man, with dishevelled grey beard clinging in stringy patches to his pocked cheeks, sat against the rail opposite the subway. He wiped his nose on his filthy green jacket and stared ahead, into the darkness I had just stepped from. Across his knees was a cardboard sign: Will find Emily for food.\n\nThat couldn’t be right. Even if Emily was an actual woman and not a slang term for something, he couldn’t mean my Emily. No, she’d been gone for...I stood in the falling rain and pretended I had to work out she’d been missing for three months, two weeks and six days. I glanced at my watch. And four hours, twenty-one minutes. I tried desperately not to think of the sound of her scream and a slamming door.\n\nThe raggedy man coughed and spat over his shoulder into the gutter. He wiped his mouth with the back of a scarred hand and caught my eye. His bushy eyebrows furrowed. Despite the falling rain and the icy wind, beads of sweat formed on my forehead.\n\nThe raggedy man sniffed at me, as if getting my scent. “Here,” he growled in a voice unused to pleasant things, “whatcha looking at?”\n\nI swallowed and chewed my lip. “Your sign,” I said shakily, jerking my chin at it. “Who’s Emily?”\n\nOne of the eyebrows arched. Long fingers with sharp, yellow nails turned the sign over. He mouthed the words as he read them. “You’re missing an Emily, then.” It wasn’t a question: he was stating a fact. There was no room for argument in his voice. He looked up at me, his cold eyes piercing into mine. “She up and left you. But you don’t think so.” My blood was ice as he spoke. He nodded as if I’d spoken. “She got snatched.”\n\nSuddenly we were standing in my front room, staring at the scene as it had been quarter of a year ago. The front door slammed. I spun on my heel and stared at the frosted glass panels, seeing Emily’s silhouette vanish down the stairwell.\n\nThe raggedy man stroked his horrible beard. “Yup,” he said, clucking his tongue. “Definitely got snatched.” He sniffed, his nostrils distending almost unnaturally wide. “The Catcher-Man,” he whispered.\n\nI turned to look at him, a mixture of confusion and anticipation on my face. “What the hell is the ‘Catcher-Man’?” It sounded like a childhood monster.\n\nThe raggedy man gave me a humourless, gap-toothed smile. “Somebody took a shine to your Emily. Somebody from the Other Place. To get her back, we’ll need to catch the Catcher-Man.”\n\nAnd just like that, we were back in the street outside the subway. The raggedy man stood, brushed the seat of his ripped trousers and folded his sign up. “But first, I need food. Can’t go hunting with an empty belly.”" ]	2
	[WP] With the discovery of alternate dimensions, a jury of peers can now only consist of alternate versions of the defendant and plaintiff.	[ "> \" - from what some are already calling the trial of the century. If you're just joining us, Jerry Seidel is reporting live from Justice Hall. Hi Jerry, do you have news for us?\"\n\n\"Hi Sarah - it's been a busy day here at Central Justice! I'm here with Dr. Arja Laito, of Utah Law-702. Now, we can't interview Dr. Laito live on camera, of course, they're very particular about that over in you-seven-oh-two, but she's agreed to take part in a little impromptu Q&A session. I'll be relaying her answers directly to you and to our viewers at home and I'll be translating to English on the fly. That's alright, Dr. Laito?\n\nWonderful, thank you. Now, Dr. Laito would you like to open with- ah, certainly. Now, the expression 'jury of your peers' was, historically, mostly wishful thinking. A great ideal, but one you could never really achieve. After all, every human being has their own history, their own moral standards, their own soul; you can look for superficial similarities at best. Now, with the discovery of timeline permeability-\"\n\n> \"Hah! Sorry to interject, but I think you might be losing our viewers, Jerry.\"\n\n\"Well, Sarah, to make a long story short, and as I'm certain our viewers know, we're now looking for alternate versions of the defendant and the plaintiff to use as jurors whenever possible. The ones not simultaneously charged with the same crime, that is. Now, the number of jurors can vary from case to case, since some people exist in more realities than others, and some mostly exist in non-peering realities. And that's exactly what makes this trial so special. Apparently Mr. Doe, the accused is... what did you call it, Dr. Laito?\n\nAh, yes, thank you. Mr. Doe - name changed to protect his identity - Mr. Doe is a... a cosmic keystone. That's a term from seven-oh-two, of course; we'd probably just say he's... well, Sarah, he's astoundlingly common.\"\n\n> \"That doesn't sound like a nice thing to say, Jerry.\"\n\n\"Hah, well, let me assure you, Sarah... it's pretty amazing to see in action. The number of jurors is creeping towards the triple digits as we speak. We can't show live footage of course, but there's even - well, the identities of the jurors are a secret, but - can we get some archival footage on screen? Thanks. Dr. Laito called this to my attention. Here, if you look back over the footage of the opening statement... there at the back, right next to the usher, the man with the shaved head and the eyepiece? Seems our Mr. Doe even has a living counterpart over on Eighty-Eight!\"\n\n> \"Ooh, I certainly wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now.\"\n\n\"Very tough on crime indeed. Now, recess is about to end and the court session is about to resume, but we'll certainly be following this case further. Dr. Laito, thank you for your assistance, and back to you, Sarah.\"\n\n> \"Thank you, that was Jerry Seidel reporting live from the trial of the century over at Justice Central. While the substance found in posession of John Doe-249 is illegal in less than forty percent of peering justice systems, the presence of a juror from 88 and several more from the 400s might just complicate things for Mr. Doe. More after these messages from our sponsors.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a tribesman witnessing the end of the world via atomic fire.	[ "Kanza hid and stared at the great gleaming stone pillar drifting listlessly through the sky. It was not how he had imagined a spirits' boat might look, but it was magnificent all the same. Its smooth silver bow split the sky in two and gave way to a gold and black stern. \n\n\"Kanza,\" whispered Hep, hanging the tree he'd climbed to get a better view of the spirits' boat, \"What does this mean? Have they come to take us to their lands?\" \n\nKanza thought as he crouched beneath the shadow of the bush he'd been hiding in. Truth be told he was not sure. He knew his were the first people but he didn't truly think that was enough to be the chosen people. Though they'd been driven over the mountain and into the valley by the southern clay-men, he'd heard the secret tales of his people from his Shaman uncle. How they had met with the horn-wearing people who lived here before and slaughtered them for their land. He did not feel that the spirits had kind eyes for those who did not learn from harm. \n\nAs he contemplated Hep called for him again and he saw the bow of the spirits' boat break in two. Though it did not fall from the sky as he thought it might, sinking below the sea of clouds. Instead its bow, now halved, slid to either side of the ship revealing many, many hollow pipes running along its belly. \n\nBefore he could wonder what this was they started belching stones at the earth below them. And wherever they connected pillars of blinding fire rose.\n\nHe could not hear it. He could not hear Hep scream as he leaped from his perch and broke his leg. He could not hear his heart racing or his breath rattling out of his chest. It was all silent. \n\nAnd then it was over. ", "Across a maze of mirrored lights I gaze into the depths of an inferno, \nA million streaks of lightning dance across the jaded horizon, \nThe heavens blur with a light that has never been seen before, an omen of doom that approaches the shores. \nThe air hangs heavy with the smell of fear, its scent is so strong that you can almost reach forth and touch it. \nThe sun sets across the blood red sea, and instead of its normal pink shade, it seems a deathly gray. \nWhere sits the prophet who preaches of impending doom? \nWhere are the portents that prove this is the end? \nAll sound has ceased, not even the buzzing of insects' wings can be heard. \nThe world sits still and waits to tell us that our fears have come true, \nAt last do my eyes deceive me, or is this truly the end of all that I know? \nDo unnamed gods war across the endless horizon, and are we nothing more than pawns in their endless struggle? \nMy soul cries out to fight, it's better to die fighting than waiting for the inevitable like a fool. \nYet my heart is weary and sad, for all that I know will soon be at an end. \nWhere will the unborn child go to play, who will feel the gentle touch of a lover's sweet caress? \nWho will sing the litany of my life when I am last gone? \nFeeling helpless is new to me, yet all I can do is roar in frustration at the injustice of it all. \nThe prophets are all gone, their last portent told a million years ago. \nThe children are all gone, slowly I realize I am the last. \nHow long has it been since I felt another's touch? \nOr spoke a word to one of my own kind? \nThe war in the heavens gives way to a brand new age. \n...A passing of the old for the young. \nThis world no longer waits for the likes of me, so at last I realize I am old and obsolete. \nThe songs of my deeds will never be heard, for no one is left to sing, and no tears will be shed at my passing for I am truly alone. \nMemories that faded ages ago seem new, and the rage that filled my heart is replaced by a sad joy. \nSoon my spirit will sour again with those who left me long ago. \nThe wisdom I wish I could leave for those who will follow me as caretakers of this world, \nYet none will remember that once another roamed these lands. \nThe storm approaches, and the hour of my end is at hand. \nA single tear falls from my face, not for myself, but for the birth of the new order that is yet to come. \nI lift my head to the havens for a final cry, but the rising winds drown out my voice. \nThe once proud warrior is not but a memory on the fading winds. \nA great cleansing rain falls across the mountaintops, \nAs the world sheds tears at the passing of an old friend, and welcomes in a brand new age." ]	2
	[WP] A supervillain takes it upon themselves to lend a hand to the Make-A-Wish Foundation.	[ "Game 7 of The World Series. The Cubs and the Yankees have played 6 gruelingly close games all coming down to the wire. The best pitchers, hitters, fielders are all exhausted, the final game is coming down to the last inning. The Cubs lead 2-1 going into the bottom of the ninth.\n\n\nSeven months earlier, little Timmy is playing catch with his mother in their front yard in Chicago. Wearing his tattered Cubs hat he slings the ball back and forth with his mom, he loves baseball. He lives it, breathes it. His dream one day is to play professional baseball for the Cubs. As the ball leaves his hand, a young, strong heart skips a beat, his vision fades to black as he collapses onto the recently thawed ground.\n\n\nSirens roaring down the narrow street, Timmy and his mom in the back of the ambulance. EMTs doing all they can to keep Timmy breathing, getting his heart back to normal, making sure he stays with his mom in the world of the living. The doctors do all they can... Success! Timmy stabilizes. Testing begins.\n\n\nBlood is taken, CAT scans, MRIs, biopsies, you name it. All possibilities are looked at. The prognosis isn't good. It's cancer, and it's already spread.\n\n\nIt is now mid June, from his hospital bed, Timmy follows the historic first half of the Cubs' season. They are almost a lock to easily make the play offs and make it to the World Series. However, Timmy might not make it to see the victory, doctors have given him only a couple months to live. Make-a-wish arrives to see if they can grant Timmy a final wish.\n\n\nBefore the sickness, before the pain, all Timmy ever wanted was to play baseball for the Cubs. He is stubborn, word gets around the organization that the only thing that will make Timmy happy is if he gets to play on the big field with the Cubs. A local newspaper picks up the story as a small piece; this is when Dr. Disorder hears and begins planning the end of his plot.\n\n\nUnder the guise of the Make-a-wish organization Dr. Disorder meets with little Timmy. He says that he can grant Timmy his final wish. Timmy agrees, preparations are made. It takes Dr. Disorder a long time to bribe the right people and silence any knowledge of his plan. On the night before the start of the World Series, Timmy makes it onto the Cubs' roster.\n\n\nThrough the World Series, Timmy is played up as the bat boy for the series, that one that is fighting for his life just as hard as the Cubs are fighting for their first World Series win in more than a century. Everyone loves little Timmy, his family is supported by the entire baseball and sports community. Even those that do not follow sports are following Timmy.\n\n\nIt's the final out of the final game, a runner on first and a rookie coming up to bat. A long snide grin appears on Dr. Disorder's face as watches the finale of his plan come together. The rookie bats left handed and the current Cubs' pitcher is right handed, thus the manager walks out to mound to make a change. The hearts, minds, and eyes of the world focused on this moment. The manager takes the ball from the pitcher, patting him on the back as he walks off; the manager motions to the dugout a happy \"come out here\" wave towards Timmy. With the little energy, but pure adrenaline running through his veins little Timmy makes his way out to the pitching mound. The manager hands Timmy the ball and walks off. The crowd goes nuts, social media is exploding, and little Timmy has thrown a couple warm up pitches. They all think this is a stunt, that he'll be pulled out in favor of a different pitcher, Dr. Disorder knows differently. \n\n\nThe umpire signals the game needs to continue, Timmy looks over around, his wish is coming true, he actually gets to play a real baseball game for the Cubs. The rookie steps into the batter's box, the crowd goes silent. Everyone processing what is happening. Before anyone can say a word, little Timmy throws his first, and last, Major League pitch for the Cubs. Again, his vision fades to black, his heart gives out, he smiles as little Timmy passes away on field. \n\nFrom his lair Dr. Disorder watches the ensuing chaos with glee and satisfaction. That pitch, was hit for a game winning home run. People are rioting in the stands and in the streets, on the internet, anywhere they can find an outlet. The Cubs once again are denied a World Series victory and as the rookie is rounding the bases he thinks back to his youth, when a mysterious make-a-wish sponsor came to his hospital bed and asked him what we wished for. His wish, was to win a World Series.", "“I’m sorry, say that again?” I said into the phone. I swiveled my chair and leaned back, idly watching a great white shark swim around in his giant tank while I listened.\n\n“Supervillain for a day, huh?” I asked. “And may I ask how you got this number?”\n\nI listened again, then made a mental note to have my second-in-command killed.\n\n“You know what? Why the hell not? It wouldn’t hurt to have another henchman around, even if just for a day.”\n\nI pressed the end call button in my cell and tossed it over my shoulder onto the desk. After watching the shark for another minute, I swiveled back around and keyed my intercom.\n\n“Tracy, can you bring in a cup of coffee?”\n\n“Yes sir,” came the reply.\n\n“Also, draw up a termination packet for Number 2.”\n\n“Y… yes sir.”\n\n***\n\nI went all out on the outfit. Because why the hell not, right? That random, dying kid deserved the best. My purple collar swept to twin points about cheekbone-high on either side of my head, and my purple cape with gold glitter swept the floor behind me when I walked, and perfectly framed my leather jumpsuit.\n\nAll I needed was a pair of skates and I’d fit perfectly in a John Travolta flick from the ’70s.\n\nI stood in the center of the room with my back to the door, as if I was deep in thought, or doing some sort of mind meld with the shark. When it comes to dramatic flair, I put the best of them to shame.\n\nI heard the door slide open behind me, followed by the tromp of many footsteps behind me. I had to keep myself from shuddering at the thought of all that outside bacteria on my clean, cement floor.\n\nI swept myself around to face them, and took in the scene: a skinny, bald little shit in a wheelchair, with two people behind him that I assumed were his parents, haggard and dark-eyed from many a night spent on a hard bed at a childrens hospital and many an argument over how to pay the medical bills.\n\nNumber 2 stood beside them, a huge, maddening grin on his face. With them was a sharp-dressed woman, a PR hack from Make-A-Wish was my guess. And behind them all was a camera crew of all things, complete with a bored-looking guy holding a boom mike overhead.\n\nI advanced, my black military boots squeaking sharply on the polished cement, and offered my hand to the miserable wretch in the wheelchair.\n\n“You must be Timmy!” I announced with authority. The kid, no more than 10, grinned sheepishly and nodded, taking my hand in a light handshake. “And you want to be a supervillain for a day?”\n\nAgain, he nodded. Behind him, his parents seemed pleased with the attention for Timmy, while at the same time really uncomfortable. The PR hack held out her hand.\n\n“Hi, I’m Allison with Make-A--” she began, before I cut her off with a hiss and a finger in front of her face. I glared at her, then snapped my fingers. A squad of henchmen appeared out of nowhere and within seconds, Allison, the parents and the camera crew were herded out through the doors, their confused protests falling on deaf ears.\n\nAfter a minute, it was just me, Timmy and Number 2. I regarded Timmy in silence. Number 2 coughed nervously.\n\n“Well, uh, I should go check on them.”\n\n“No no, Number 2, stick around!” I commanded. “You’ll enjoy this, trust me.”\n\nI sauntered around behind Timmy’s wheelchair, my cape brushing against his arm. His head followed me nervously.\n\n“So you want to be a supervillain!” I said again, this time with enthusiasm. Timmy nodded again, this time with a little fear in his eyes. There was no need for him to worry.\n\nI wheeled him slowly forward so he could get a good view of the shark. He lit up a little bit as the creature slid past the glass wall.\n\n“This is Stan,” I told the kid. “Stan helps me clean up around here.”\n\n“Hi, Stan,” said Timmy, as if the shark could hear him.\n\n“Timmy, what’s the most important part of being a supervillain?”\n\nHe took his attention from the shark and looked up at me with a shrug.\n\n“Operational security, Timmy. Operational security. One little leak gives your location away to the FBI, and you’re done. Your super lair, all your hard work is for nothing.”\n\nI keyed the intercom.\n\n“Tracy, can you bring in the paperwork?”\n\n“Yes sir.”\n\nTimmy’s eyes were wandering, and he turned his chair to look over my desk.\n\n“What’s this?”\n\nI picked up the engineering drawings he was pointing to.\n\n“Ah, this is Operation Dark Roast,” I explained with glee, unrolling the papers. “We’re going to open up a volcano under Seattle.”\n\n“Cool,” the kid crooned. “With a drill?”\n\n“Yep. And explosives.”\n\nThe kid might be all right after all. The door slid open, and my secretary entered with a packet of paperwork. She spoke into the headset as she walked.\n\n“Yeah, no, the night shift gets time and a half,” she was saying as she handed me the packet. “Well, get the union reps on the line.”\n\nShe gave me a roll of her eyes, made a “yap yap yap” signal with her hand and headed back out.\n\nTimmy’s eyes had alighted on a big red button on the right side of my desk.\n\n“What’s this?” he asked, fingering the button lightly. I pulled his hand away.\n\n“Hey, we don’t want to mess with that.”\n\n“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the paperwork Tracy had left in my hands. The kid’s curiosity was grating and amusing at the same time.\n\n“Oh that? That’s just a termination packet,” I said, turning with a sweep of the cape to face my top henchman, “for Number 2.”\n\nThe blood drained from Number 2’s face.\n\n“W-what?” he stammered. “What for?”\n\n“OPERATIONAL SECURITY!” I boomed, causing both Number 2 and Timmy to flinch. “You brought an entire family to the lair? And a camera crew? TO THE LAIR? Are you trying to sabotage everything?”\n\nHe held out his hands palm up in protest.\n\n“We checked them for tracking devices!” he said. “They wore blindfolds the whole trip!”\n\nI advanced on him, causing him to back up. Almost. I took another step, and he back up another step. Perfect. I leaned back, reaching for the big red button, when a small voice stopped me.\n\n“Can I do it?”\n\nI frowned in thought, still glaring at Number 2. Then I nodded.\n\n“Sure, why not?”\n\nNumber 2’s face twisted in despair.\n\n“Aw, come on, man,” he pleaded. “You’re going to have the kid do it?”\n\nI nodded, smiling. “Now, Timmy.”\n\nThe kid reached a frail little arm out, and I watched the resignation spread on Number 2’s face as he watched a gaunt finger press down on the button.\n\nThe trap door opened beneath his feet, and in a second he was gone. The trap door swung closed, cutting off his scream. I danced happily back behind the desk, then grabbed Timmy’s wheelchair and swung him around to see the shark tank.\n\n“Oh, you’re going to enjoy this,” I told him. Timmy leaned forward in anticipation.\n\nNumber 2 shot into the water, his eyes wide as he held his breath and struggled. Timmy squealed with laughter as the shark circled behind. I kept the shark hungry for just this type of occasion.\n\nStan ripped into Number 2 with a violence only seen on nature documentaries narrated by David Attenborough. Soon the thrashing disappeared in an expanding red cloud in the water, obscuring the most gruesome moments of the attack. An arm sank below, out of the cloud, a smaller cloud of blood streaming behind it.\n\nTimmy couldn’t take his eyes off the scene, but I swung his chair back around and plopped the Operation Dark Roast plans in his lap.\n\n“What do you think? Should we blow up Seattle next year?”\n\nTimmy hung his head.\n\n“Love to,” he said, “but I won’t be around next year.”\n\nI knelt in front of him and looked in his eyes, putting a finger under his chin to lift his head.\n\n“Plot twist, Timmy,” I said with a grin. “I’ve had the cure for cancer for years. You’ll be right as rain in a few weeks.”\n\n“Really?”\n\n“Yup. Who do you think has the best scientists?” I asked him. “You think some charity can pay the top guys? No way, buddy. I can.”\n\nHe laughed.\n\n“So what do you think,” I asked him. “Do you want to be my new Number 2?”\n" ]	2
Yes, taken from: https://www.reddit.com/r/Showerthoughts/comments/49onpa/if_steve_jobs_was_reincarnated_into_a_chinese/	[WP] Steve Jobs is reincarnated as a third world child who now makes iPhones. He slowly begins to remember little details about his past-life.	[ "\"Here's hexa-screw 1, and there goes 2, and Xing Long will handle number 3.\"\n\nI was a content 16 year old kid who was trying to make some quick cash.\n\nI wanted to pee really badly, but alas, my toilet break was an hour away. It's easy to see why Zhang jumped out the window yesterday after working (and earning) for 2 years. \n\n\"BACK TO WORK, STEVE LEE!\", my supervisor yelled, seeing me daydream just like earlier this morning. I hate being told what to do. I feel like just dropping out of this crap the second this week is over and take a peek into Grandma's art shop. And maybe stay there, seeing how shading and typography works. \n\nBut the week has just begun. \n\nI use the electric screwdriver and tighten the hexa-screw for my 10,000th iPhone. Foxconn has a HR thing to show each worker how many they've worked on. That's exactly when my eyes freeze up, and I see a tableau of 10 people sitting around a table with a photo of the iPhone on the screen. There was no mistaking it. It had to be an iPhone. The seek curves, the chamfered metal, it felt so natural to me. \n\nI was rudely plopped back into reality to continue on my endless task. \n\nAnd then I realised. There was a mirror on that same wall in my - I don't know what to call it, vision?- and on that mirror was the face that we see everyday in our factory. \n\nThe face of the man who gave so much to my country, but took from its people. \n\nSteve Jobs. ", "好累啊。。。好饿呀。。。\n好想家。。。好想妈妈。。。\n\n(So tired...so hungry... I miss home.. I miss my mom...)\n\n\n为什么我的命这么苦?? 我的生命还有什么意义。\n\n(Why's my life so tough? Is there no meaning to my life?)\n\n两天没睡了。好累, 好累啊。。。Zzz... \n\n(Haven't slept in 2 days. So tired, so tired... Zzz...)\n\n你敢!! 偷懒?!! 睡觉??! 不要这份工作了对吗? 回去路边饿死吧!! \n\n(YOU DARE? Skiving? Sleeping? You don't want this job? Go back to the streets to starve then!!)\n\n对不起! 对不起! 求求你, 我。。晕了过去 \n\n(Sorry! Sorry! I'm begging you please, I... * faint )\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n医生我的儿子, 他。。癌症???!\n\n(Doctor, my son... he.. Cancer???!)\n\n\n在苹果工厂。。。他。。汞?!\n\n\n(At the Apple factory... he... mercury?!)\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n痛。我在哪里? This sensation. IV needle in my hand? I.. Mom?? Where are we?\n\n(Hurts. Where am I?)\n\n\n医生! 医生! 他醒来了!! 儿子你在说什么?? 你病了。妈妈会给你治好!\n\n(Dr! Dr! He's awake! Son what you're saying. You're sick. I promise you'll get better!)\n\nDoctor rushes in\n\n\nDoctor where am I? \n\n\nYou speake engrish?? turns to mom* 你的儿子会讲英语??? (Your son speaks English???)\n\n\n不会!! (No!!)\n\n\nWhy am I here? \n\n\nYou are having cancer. Maybe from chemical eh.. the metal in factory.\n\n医生他在说什么??? (Doctor what is he saying??)\n\n\nWhat kind?\n\n\nIt is in the 胰腺. How to say... \n\nDoctor pulls out his iPhone to Google translate\n\nHe turned the phone to me. \n\nChinese : English\n\n胰腺 : Pancreas\n\n\nMy eyes widened. I remember.\n\n\n\n\n\nEDIT: Translation", "6 hours is still long. But it's better than 12. Dad's at 12 now, used to be at 18.\n\n\nBut life's looking up.\n\n\nDad said that within a few years with our new salaries, we'll have enough money to live on without me having to work.\n\n\nThat'll be great, I'll get to go to school.\n\n\nI've always wanted to join school. Learn.\n\n\nIt's crazy, I get this feeling when I look around that everything here was created by people.\n\n\nPeople like me. I wouldn't be working in this factory if someone hadn't made it.\n\n\nDad wouldn't be brining in more money if these technologies didn't exist.\n\n\nHe'd be getting sunburned again in the rice fields.\n\n\nRice fields.\n\n\nSomeone must have had an idea to make those too.\n\n\nI love it!\n\n\nWe can have ideas and make things better!\n\n\nI can't wait to go to school.\n\n\nI want ideas.\n\n\nI want to make things better.\n\n\nMaybe I'll make something that will make things better for dad.\n\n\nMaybe... a special hat that makes him less tired, kinda like special gloves that protect your hands from chemicals.\n\n\nSomeone probably made those too!\n\n\nPeople make stuff!\n\n\nStuff is great!\n\n\nPeople are great!\n\n\nI often wonder if I ever made things better in my past life.\n\n\nI think I did. I'm smart. I probably did it.\n\n\nI can probably do it again.\n\n--------------\n\nHEY KID, LOOK AT WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING!\nYOU WANNA STAY HERE OR YOU WANNA GO BACK TO THE RICE FIELDS?\nPAY ATTENTION!\n\n---------------\n\nJust a few more months.\n\n\nThen school.\n\n\nTHEN I can make my own stuff." ]	3
	[WP] ''Computer, End Simulation'' you speak aloud...it works...	[ "The words flickered in the air in front of him. \"Password required.\" Was this really happening, or just a dream? He looked over to the mirror beside him. The words were not reflected, so he knew it was something only he could see. He pinched his arm. The pain he felt made him realise he was awake. Yet there they were, those two spooky words.\n\nHe wasn't even sure what made him say it. Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was just depression. Whatever it was, it was done. If it was actually real, he could possibly use the computer to generate things for him. Money, cars, women. He could have it all.\n\nand yet, the curiosity of what was beyond nagged at him. He could be some bigshot in a utopian future city. Or it could be bad. Maybe robots had taken over, and he was in a human battery like in the Matrix. He continued to ponder just what it was that was on the other side, and the more he thought about it, the more he realised he didn't want to know. He was in this simulation for a reason. Whether it was because of his awful life on the other side, or just a thrill, he knew he couldn't just leave. He had to play it out to the very end.\n\n\"Computer, cancel request.\" The words vanished. He stood up, and grabbed his keys. No matter what happens in this life, he knew he had to make the most of it from now on. Besides, what's the worst that could be waiting for him on the other side?\n\n-\n\"Vitacorp wants to thank you for your kind research into our long life program. Miss, err?\"\n\n\"Hanoway. That's my father in on that screen there.\" The screen showed the man putting on his jacket, and walking out his front door with a new lease on life.\"\n\n\"Miss Hanoway. We really appreciate your assistance. The last 20 years of your fathers life has been quite informative about how well this system is received by the public. Your father and the 31 other volunteers have pushed this program forward to public sales much faster than anticipated. Of course, your family will be eligible for a percentage of the profits, and we will gladly cover any funeral and graveyard costs when the simulation is over. If you would like to just follow me to the next room, we can sign the last of the papers.\n\nInside the small silver pod beside the two of them, the mans corpse lay in the silence, as the helmet blinked over to the 25 day mark, continuing its countdown to zero, the Vitacorp logo barely visible in the dim red light from the numbers. ", " Adam wondered what the Graffiti on the wall said, it was odd, distinct, the kind he'd never seen before and as silly as it felt, he needed to say it aloud.\n\n \"Computer, End Simulation.\" he said.\n\n Then it all made sense. \n\no o o o o o o\n\nYou’re never quite prepared for the simulation ending, you’ve been telling yourself for what you think is years that you’re a 43 year old man, you’re not important, just an average Joe, sitting behind a desk in some business for God knows how long to provide for the wife and kids. Then you stand up with a back that suddenly works and full head of hair falling in front of your eyes. You almost fall over getting up, the muscles you thought were old and tired are now young and springy, you’re staggering around from your own strength. And you’ve soiled yourself. Repeatedly.\n\n “Fucking hell how long have I been under!?” Adam exclaimed, as he saw the putrid brown ooze leak out from his trousers.\n\n Ray tossed him a towel, he looked concerned:\n\n “Longer than normal, sorry, about 6 hours.”\n\n “But protocol says one hour maximum?!” Adam yelled.\n\n “Things were different this time, we received emergency authorisation from up top, they’re scheduling a meeting now with you where you can de-briefed… I’ll make sure you have enough time to clean yourself up.”\n\n “Fuck you.”\n\n It’s all Adam could really think about right now. One hour was the maximum time the VR Speculation sessions normally lasted, any longer and the simulated memories started to become inseparable from permanent ones. The longest before now Adam had gone before this was 34 minutes, and even now he could still remember the tanks rolling down the street outside his house. But it was in his brain the same way a movie was, it wasn’t real, it was just things. But his wife, her hair, her smile, the exasperated look when the kids came in every morning at 6am.\n\n “It wasn’t real.” He said aloud, it had meant to be just a thought, but he was tired and confused, his brain wasn’t being a team player right now as 21 years of fake memories refused to be fake.\n\n O o o o O\n\n The hot shower had been helpful; he’d breathed the steam in with deep gulps and hoped the memories would fade with the headache.\n\n He was now wearing grey joggers and a plain white T-Shirt. It seemed like he was being treated like a criminal, sitting at the table being questioned by two higher-ups in nice suits while Ray sat their quietly like a very poor State provided lawyer. The truth though was that he felt like a victim right now.\n\n “Now in the session we noted that Nelson Mandella died December 5th 2013?” one of the Suits asked.\n\n “Yeah, it was before Christmas, sounds about right.” Adam muttered.\n\n “Would you say the mood was sad at the time, like this was a tragedy?”\n\n “Yes, lots of people paid tribute; most were very sad or at least had nothing bad to say.”\n\n “Thank you, and at this time relationships with South Africa were very good?”\n\n “Uh, probably, we weren’t really at war with them if that’s what you mean.”\n\n The answer seemed to satisfy them, if only temporarily, then new questions continued:\n\n “And we noted the figure Barack Obama was in attendance at his funeral, he’s appeared in multiple other speculations, at this stage in his Presidency how was he perceived?”\n\n “I don’t know, fine enough.” Adam stammered out.\n\n “Are there any specific events that lead you to that conclusion?” one of the suits pressed on.\n\n “You were the ones in my brain, are you telling me you couldn’t see?!”\n\n “You know how the VR Speculation sessions go, we can see the vague events of your minds future speculation projected on our screens, but the full details, tiny nuances like a single day of news, that’s held within your mind.”\n\n They’d been talking for 25 minutes now, questions about everything and anything. How the economy had seemed. Mexican immigration. Developments in the EU. They’d tried to talk about television and music trends and he had snapped at them, tossed a glass of water at the wall. It was plastic though, they’d been expecting the anger.\n\n It was just hard to remember details, he hadn’t been a details man, not someone in enough power to notice and care, all the precise details were personal, irrelevant at that small scale, and the truth was they weren’t personal at all, they were fake, imaginary. But that was always the way with Speculation Sessions, in the beginning they’d tried creating scenario’s where people were Presidents and Scientists, it never stuck, the brain couldn’t be tricked into such outlandish scenarios. It had to be small, that was where the brain could continue living and speculate a future in front of them all whilst sitting in a chair with wires stuck into the brain for what was supposed to be just an hour at best.\n\n “Can we please take a break, I have a headache, I just want to sleep.” Adam pleaded.\n\n “We have to ask these questions, we don’t know what will be forgotten if we wait any longer, important developments might be lost.”\n\n “I was in there for six hours, trust me, I remember a lot of fucking information.” Adam snarled.\n\n “Maybe he could benefit from a brief break. Just a brief one.” Ray suggested.\n\n He was trying to be a peace broker, calm things down. Adam knew he was trying, but it was far too late for that.\n\n “Oh now you say something Ray! Why was this so bloody important anyway! This speculation was boring, normal, I mean stuff happened, Russia was aggressive, we had armies in Middle East countries, Iraq, Afghanistan I think, there were bad times, but nothing major. In my first session I saw a Nuclear War, in the second one I was fighting in a Civil Uprising and got shot in the head. In this one I voted a black man president! That’s pretty okay.”\n\n “And that’s why we kept it going as long as we did.” A Suit insisted.\n\n “What?!” Adam exclaimed.\n\n The two suits exchanged looks.\n\n “We were debating whether to explain to you now, we don’t like to discuss other speculations in specific details as a matter of policy, we find it biases future speculation of others if they know of other peoples. But given your condition after this session I think it is a simple answer as to whether you will ever use the Virtual Reality Simulation equipment again.”\n\n “Fuck off.”\n\n Adam said it without thinking, but didn’t feel any regret. He just leaned back and covered his eyes from the lit room, he had seen too many things for a man his age and his brain seemed to hurt from each and every thing it had to process now.\n\n “Exactly.” One of the suits finally said.\n\n “You talked about previous VR Speculations where thing events ended negatively. Until this one all of your sessions ended negatively. And until today, every participants session ever ended negatively.” The other Suit explained.\n\n “What?”\n\n “War, economic collapse, further terrorist attacks, disease outbreaks. Before the year 2008 the Planet always underwent radical, negative changes that worsened the lives of the planet’s population. Your world, with War in the Middle East, and tension in Asia, and the rise of European United State initiative, is the best path for the future we have ever seen, and we need to know if we can make that happen.”\n\n Adam paused for a moment and thought about all the things he had seen. All the good, all the bad, all the indifferent and weird. It didn’t feel like he had seen the best future. It was very hard to comprehend.\n\n “Just let me take a bathroom break, please, 5 minutes and we can continue talking, I promise.” He finally blurted out.\n\nO o o o o o\n\n Adam didn’t need the bathroom, but sitting in the toilet cubicle, his head soaked from dunking his head in the sink, he almost felt better. It was quiet, and peaceful, and alone. No new things to take in, just the old fake ones. Just his wife. Just Sophie.\n\n 5 minutes had surely passed, but perhaps Ray was showing sympathy for the first time since he had woken up, in the last hour he’d definitely seen all the things he had done wrong to him.\n\n The door swung open and two people walked in. They weren’t looking for him. Just two random workers.\n\n “So did you hear the news, Russia has condemned the Invasion of Iran? Crazy.”\n\n “China backed them up too, shit, do you think it could escalate?”\n\n “Who knows?”\n\n What was that? That wasn’t how it went. Iran? \n\n Adam held back a few tears for a little while. He thought about the wife and the children he had lost, and he thought about the World he’d lived in. He thought about how everything was wrong now.\n\nO o o o o o\n\n “I’m ready to begin the questions again, thank you for the break.” Adam said quietly.\n\n “That’s quite alright, we understand how hard things must be for you right now.”\n\n “Pretty hard, but we’re doing this for a good reason, we want that world I saw…”\n “Very well, now we noticed early on the presence of a Tsunami in Asia, how would you say the response was to this?”\n\n Adam sighed; this was going to take a while. But he wanted Sophie back.\n", "I walked out of the station toward my car, the door slammed behind me. I barked, \"Computer, End Simulation\", the simulator room went dark for a moment until an overhead light popped on. My watch read 4:30. The ride to the station manger's house took exactly 22 minutes. I parked in the dark driveway, extracted a blue blanket and window breaker from my truck and walked toward the side of the garage. In just 47 seconds I was through the window and stealing the ID from the center console of the BMW. I parked in the station's lot at 5:30 on the tick. The badge beeped when I slapped it against the reader and I was in. I opened the first door on the right and took the stairs, two at a time, up to the third floor. Only two badges could open the third door on the left, the one in my hand and the one held by the Chief Auditor from the accounting firm Williams, Scott and Anderton. The Auditor's badge was almost impossible to steal without getting caught.\n\nOn a small stage was a pedestal supporting a clear plastic sphere containing forty five ping pong balls. I extracted a small vial of white, lead paint and a brush from my fanny pack. The small hatch on the back of the sphere flopped open, I reached in and extracted ball number 22. A one square inch of paint was all it would take. I returned 22, extracted four more balls in turn and painted each. The white paint was a perfect match for the color of the balls of course. I put the paint and brush back in my fanny pack and extracted a pen and slip of paper. I noted the 5 numbers I had painted and started retracing my steps to leave the building.\n\nThe lottery draw began at 10:21 on channel 3. Wendy Sellig was hosting the event in a stunning blue dress. Five balls were taken from the bottom slot, shown to the camera and placed on a rack next to the sphere.\n\nA rather rotund lady belatedly unlocked the doors to the lottery office at 9:02AM. Verifying my ticket, confirming my identity for the IRS and State Tax agency, taking some photos with a big check and printing my actual check took two hours and seventeen minutes. I was a millionaire for ten glorious days.\n\nI never ran the simulation further than depositing the check. When the same numbers came up a week after my jackpot, the auditors ran an investigation. The security cameras had perfect view of me painting the balls. I was arrested, my money and all the stuff I bought including my yellow Ferrari 488 Spider were all confiscated. I couldn't afford a good attorney, so I'm spending the next 15-25 years in prison. After the story broke and the cops were coming toward my door I barked, \"Computer, end simulation\", it didn't work.\n\n\n\n", "\"Hey Jack! Your turn!\", Matthew yelled to me from across the room. \"Ok ok I'll do it!\", I yelled back. Looking up to the ceiling of my best friend's living room I proclaim: \"Alright computer, end simulation.\" I wait a few seconds then I take a look around.\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nI look around at my closest friends, frozen in time. \"Alright guys very funny! Computer, resume simulation!\"\n\nNothing.\n\n\"Computer, resume simulation!\"\n\nStill nothing.\n\n\"Hey Joanne, you still with me?\" as I shake my fiance's arm. I'm starting to freak out. Like, legitimately, freak out. \"Ok guys that's enough!\", but still nothing. Then to my absolute horror, Joanne disintegrates right in front of me. \"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!\" All around me my friends are degrading into pixels, only to disappear into the floor. \"Wha-wha-_______________?\"\n\nI don't know how long its been. I've been hugging my legs, sitting on this floor in some alien kind of room for probably hours now. All I can think about is her. She was my life, and now she's gone. Its not like she died, she just FUCKING DISINTEGRATED! RIGHT THERE!\n\nThen a door opens. \"Hey Jack, welcome back.\"", "Finally... It works! This malfunction kept you inside this gladiator simulation for five hours by now. You have been fighting fierce enemies, lions and tigers for five hours. You have no strength left in your arms and body.\n\nAfter repeating this phrase countless times at first two hours, you have given up all the hope and decided to fight until someone shuts down the simulation and rescues you, or you die. It had been a most honorable fight, even though in a simulation. Fit for a strong Klingon as yourself. Just as you were completely exhausted, and a fierce tiger was about to make its fatal final attack, you called the computer again, in an hopeless move. \n\nBut, there you are; inside the empty walls of holodeck, laying on the floor all bruised and cut, and apparently with some more days to live. You crawl across the deck to call the sick bay...", "\"Computer, end Simul...\" He struggled to get the words out, but it was to late. Mason saw this exact same affect used on the enemy of the tribe he had been tracking for the past several months. As he gasped for air, panic immediately came over him as he remembered Tech Support mention specifically, he needed to say the words in full to exit the simulation early. \n\nFor the past several months, Mason Rockwell was researching a vacation on some far away island or place, it didnt matter where, he just needed an escape. This would be his first vacation as a newly single man. For the past 6 years, his vacations consisted of spending cash to go somewhere he had zero interest in. For years, Mason dreamed of a vacation that included epic adventure, a place where he could really \"dig in\" to the culture and get lost. Mason was a 53 year old boy and never really took the time to find himself on a backpack adventure. For days on end he researched for places that seemed desolate, a place off the beaten path, a jungle where tribes have never made human contact. Even when he thought he found the perfect place, some other schmuck had already been there. \n\n\"Looking for adventure, tired of the mundane\"? Barely still awake, Mason heard the commercial. It was promoting a simulated vacation to a place he had dreamed of for all those years. Giving it no real thought, he jotted down the url and passed out for the night. \n\nTo be continued...", "There we were, smoking the latest batch of OG Kush. I handed the pipe over to Greg. Our group of three talked about the universe. While I was smoking, Victor remarked upon the most ridiculous idea I'd ever heard.\n\n\"They say our universe might be a holographic projection. We could be a science experiment for vastly intelligent beings.\"\n\nI told him, \"That can't be possible. The universe is infinite.\"\n\n\"Maybe that's how it's designed,\" said Greg after a taking a second to cough.\n\n\"I don't want my life to be a simulation. Would you? What if you're my simulation?\"\n\n\"Haha nah, you're my simulation,\" said Victor.\n\nGreg agreed with the sentiment that he was the \"real\" person in the room. We all laughed.\n\n\"But seriously man, what if I was in a room right now and could stop the projection of you and Greg?\"\n\nI said \"How would you do that? Say something like 'Computer, end simulation'? Would tha--\" Something jolted me like a slap in the face. Victor and Greg began a process of what I can only describe as \"fading away in pieces.\" The room faded next, until I was in a blank white room with a woman looking at me with desperation.\n\n\"You made it. I knew you would make it,\" she said while crying.\n\n\"Who are you? Why are you hugging me?\"\n\nShe looked up with eyes glazed in tears. All she said before crying uncontrollably was: \"I love you. You're back.\"", " Asher sat on his soft comfy couch in the living room, the cushions a lovely cream color and his fingers bright with Cheeto coloring. The theme music to \"Star Trek: The Next Generation\" died down and he sat, pondering what to watch next. \n\nThen a stupid idea occurred to him. A stupid but wonderful idea. Picard had just been locked in a life simulated by what he thought was the ships computers, how cool would it be if this was all a simulation? \n\n\"Computer, end simulation\", Asher said to the thin air of the empty room, more out of boredom than anything else. Then, as he licked the Cheeto flavor from his fingers Asher saw the walls begin to melt, the cream colored couch he was sitting on turn to cold gun metal, the Cheetos disappear from his hands. Where the television had been there was an imperious set of steel bars. Without warning, a woman's voice as clear as if she had been standing in the room next to him echoed off the walls. \n\n\"Prisoner number 0, your sentence has been served. You are now free to leave\". As the voice finished the steel bars slid open, revealing a very different world from the one Asher had just left. ", "Thursday, 17 March\n\nYou watch in awe, then alarm, as the whole world gradually distorts into static around you. Even your best friend, who had been in the living room watching tv, was dissolving into static. \n\n\"What is reality?\" you question in disbelief as the last of the world loses its cohesion and fades into nothingness. \n\nYou are floating in the darkness of the void. As you slowly begin to lose consciousness, the world suddenly erupts into a sort-of familiar dull blue hue. You glance up through your fading eyesight, and manage a weak smile. \n\nOh, it's a blue screen of death, you chuckle as the last of your consciousness fades. \n\n---\n\nThursday, 10 March\n\nYou wake up in your bed. The alarm clock at your bedside table had been beeping for the past 10 minutes. It reads 6:10 am. You sigh and drag youself out of bed. As you commit yourself to your daily morning rituals, you reflect on the fact that you just the weirdest dream... \n\n---\n\nA group higher-dimensional beings are bickering in a meeting room. Someone had misplaced the Admin rights to EarthServer042, and it had somehow briefly fallen into the hands of an earthling who, predictably, had misused it and caused the entire server to crash. They were only lucky that an engineer had made a backup just last week and had managed to reboot the server." ]	9
	[WP] You realise you can save and load your life, just like a video game. No one else notices.	[ "My stomach was growling and the world began to fade. Laying on my back under a bridge my life began to flash before me. I had committed so many stupid choices. Burning bridges along the way and leaving every relationship I've ever had behind.\n\nChasing my dreams began to look so stupid now that I was dying all alone. I remembered my first kiss and my first lay. I could help but giggle. As the pain became umbereable I began to acknowledge my fate. The world was closing in and I shut my eyes. There was a low click I opened my eyes and a screen appeared before me. I tried to crawl away but it followed me.\n\nNow that you have reached fulfilment you have a choice to save your life. You can choose to reload to this point at any time in the future. Would you like to save now?\n\n Yes/No\n\nFuck where was this option 50 years ago\n\n\n\n\n", "Only the two of us remain. I rested my hands on the felt waiting for the two cards I knew were coming.\nI took a brief look at them, Bullets. This was it, the winning hand I could feel it. I made every effort to contain my excitement, I didn't want to scare him off the hand again, with a slight facial expression. He was an expert at reading people, well he would have to be to have gotten this far.\n\nI take a quick look at my opponent before announcing my raise, slowly and carefully I push the chips into the middle. With very little hesitation he pushed even more of his own chips in. Happily surprised I took my time contemplating whether I should call / fold or raise while already knowing the answer to this easy problem.\n\n\"All In\" I state.\n\n\"Call\" Instantly comes from the other side of the table.\n\nI turn over my Ace's and the crowds around the table cheer, I get lost in the moment and hear the shock and murmurs from the crowd before I look over at his cards.\n\nA 3 and 9 is what I saw, they weren't even suited. Why would he risk 1st place on this.\n\nThe crowd subdued while we wait for the flop.\n\n3 3 9. This can't be happening, I have Ace's and he went all in with a 3 9. \n\nAn ace can still save me, It has to come. I know it will come.\n\nThe Ace shows up on the turn. I jump from my seat, and almost start dancing on the spot. I look over to my opponent to give him a condescending smirk, this is what you get for going all in with 3 9 but he's just sitting there smiling. I'm so caught up in the moment I don't even pay attention to the final card.\n\nI glimpse it as the crowd goes wild. The last 3, The last 3. He has four 3's! \n", "loaded save 1\n\n\"Ok, now what do I do?\" Eric was presented with a plethora of options to get out of the hospital. He had just died.\n\n\"So trying to /shoot/ the workers didn't go well... I'm gonna make another save.\"\n\nsaved to slot 8\n\nloaded save 6\n\n\"Excuse me nurse, can I have a walk outside? I've had no disciplinary action since my introduction here, and I have given no trouble.\"\n\nEric told a couple people... They all thought he was insane. He could load and save his life. What gave him the power to do this? Why? Honestly, no one gives a shit, literally. He's the only one who knows.\n\n\"I guess... But make it quick! And I'm watching you! Just get in the chair.\"\n\nEric and the nurse left the room.\n\n\"Time for another save..\"\n\nsaved to slot 7\n\n\"Alright... I can deal with you for five more minutes.\"\n\n(Ok... Just gotta make it to the exit...) \nEric ran as fast as he could, barely making it.\n\"Phew! I'm out! Let's save.\"\n\nsaved to fil-\n\n\"Huh? Is it..\"\n\nsa-\n\n\"Oh no.\"\n\n\n\n\"Ah shit.\"\n\n\"Let's think... Hex edit..?\"\n\nOpen:exe:person/ericthompson/saves/sve8 exe:open:person/ericthompson/exe/hxd\n\na spew of numbers appeared in front of eric\n\n\"Hmm... It seems that my save format is broken... Time to repair..\"\n\nHe messed with the numbers for a bit, and left the screen.\n\n\"Ok... I hated that anyways, it was a useless life. I'm going back to the photo album.\"\n\nloaded special save type - phtabm\n\n\nAll of his memories were there. He took a photo at each spot, and put it in an album resting in a save dedicated to it. He would be able to instantly go to those saves.\n\n\"Maybe.. After all these years.. I should go back. Everyone I knew.. Austin... Jose... Ashley... Everyone I loved... Mother... Father... Emily....... I'm going back.\"\n\nHe closed the album, taking out a single photo. He closed his eyes, knowing that once he stepped back into the place before his powers, he would forget everything. Maybe he would be happier.. Maybe he would be a better person.. He did know that it would get boring after that though. At least he wouldn't remember..\n\nWhat Eric could possibly not remember though, was that how he got his power.. Right after that same photo. He would get it back instantly with a clean slate, and by specification, do the same thing under the same circumstances.\n\nHe created an infinite loop he could not escape.\n\nAt least, he does not suffer in the end.\n\n\nloaded save 1\n\n\"Ok, now what do I do?\" Eric was presented with a plethora of options to get out of the hospital. He had just died.\n\n\"So trying to /shoot/ the workers didn't go well... I'm gonna make another save. Hope it works.\"\n\nsaved to slot 8\n\nloaded save 6\n\n\"Excuse me nurse, can I have a walk outside? I've had no disciplinary action since my introduction here, and I have given no trouble. Is there a problem?\"\n\nEric told a couple people... They all thought he was insane. He could load and save his life. What gave him the power to do this? Why? Honestly, no one gives a shit, literally. He's the only one who knows. Maybe not.\n\n\"I guess... But make it quick! And I'm watching you! Just get in the chair. Damn fools.\"\n\nEric and the nurse left the room.\n\n\"Time for another save.. Not many slots left, I don't have as much free space anymore.\"\n\nsaved to slot 7\n\n\"Alright... I can deal with you for five more minutes. Make that three.\"\n\n(Ok... Just gotta make it to the exit...) \nEric ran as fast as he could, barely making it.\n\"Phew! I'm out! I feel... Nervous though.\"\n\nsaved to fil-\n\n\"Why did it stop?\"\n\nsa-\n\n\"No way can this be.\"\n\n\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Let's think... Hex edit..? Worth a shot.\"\n\nOpen:exe:person/ericthompson/saves/sve8(2) exe:open:person/ericthompson/exe/hxd\n\na spew of numbers appeared in front of Eric. Maybe you know them\n\n\"Hmm... It seems that my save format is broken... Time to repair.. Not that I remember.\"\n\nHe messed with the numbers for a bit, and left the screen. Mostly zeroes.\n\n\"Ok... I hated that anyways, it was a useless life. I'm going back to the photo album.\"\n\nloaded special save type - phtabm2\n\n\"Always wondered why there was a two. Could never find the first.\"\n\nAll of his memories were there. He took a photo at each spot, and put it in an album resting in a save dedicated to it. He would be able to instantly go to those saves. Too bad he didn't know they were a prison for him.\n\n\"Maybe.. After all these years.. I should go back. Everyone I knew.. Austin... Jose... Ashley... Everyone I loved... Mother... Father... Emily....... I'm going back. I'M RETURNING HOME AGAIN!\"\n\nHe closed the album, taking out a single photo. He closed his eyes, knowing that once he stepped back into the place before his powers, he would forget everything. Maybe he would be happier.. Maybe he would be a better person.. He did know that it would get boring after that though. At least he wouldn't remember.. You still do though.\n\nWhat Eric could possibly not remember though, was that how he got his power.. Right after that same photo. He would get it back instantly with a clean slate, and by specification, do the same thing under the same circumstances. Don't you know this already?\n\nHe created an infinite loop he could not escape. Maybe you can.\n\nAt least, he does not suffer in the end.\n\nIt keeps going.\n\n//OUT OF STORY POST: This is revision two. The story originally ended here, but I decided to revise it with a new ending. So don't go farther if you think that the ending was satisfying. Or not, I'm not your mother.//\n\n\"Happy birthday, Emily!\"\n\nA click could be heard from the camera Eric used.\n\n\"C'mon, you know I don't like photos...\"\n\n\"Doesn't mean you won't look back at this and think of your 19th birthday.\"\n\n\"Really, Eric? Sighhhh, guess it's just the best of these two weird worlds we call ourselves.\"\n\n\"Oh, I remembered! I have to go get your present!\" Eric got up, and ran over.\n\n\"Hey, wait!-\" Emily tried to grapple onto his leg, but failed.\n\nslam \n\n\"Can't believe I forgot to give her the present! Argh! I'm so stupid!... I'll just get it out of the car.\"\n\nAs Eric walked over to the door of the car, all he could see was white.\n\n\"What the hell?!\n\nError: Memory Management. Block bricked, running on backup SSD. Running off of.. Saved file? Do you wish to load another file on a drive?\"\n\nEric pondered what this could mean. He gave up trying to figure it out, and walked away. Soon enough, he realized he was the only thing around. He walked back. He clicked yes.\n\nload file: Drive F(Recovery):/mem/user/people/ericthompson/saves/save1010101: load?\n\n\"Yeah, sur-\"\n\nHe was cut off by this message.\n\n54686973207265717569726573206b65726e656c206163636573732e2050726f636565643f\n\n\"What? The hell is going on?..\"\n\nformatting primary drive\n\n\"HEY! DOESN'T THAT CONTAIN MY STUFF!? I SAW THE DIRECTORY!\"\n\nfilling with buffer data\n\n\"STOP IT! DON'T HURT THEM!\" Eric kicked the message.\n\nfilling metadata\n\nHe was sobbing on the ground, scared for his life.\n\npreparing new UEFI\n\nreboot?\n\n\"Sure. You've already taken away everything I own, so JUST DO IT!\"\n\nrebooting\n\nHe was never the same. He had the same life, but he never had the adventures. He never had the safety of immortality. He was human. He escaped the loop. What about you? You get to watch. More specifically, watch him die. \n\nSee, look at him. Getting the present out. A bottle of vodka for the cute couple. Sure, they're underage, but who cares? Certainly not him, he's dead. Now they drink. She's so happy that he thought so highly of her. Now he wants more for the two. He sneaks out at night to grab the car, still drunk.\n\nBye-bye.\n\nAt least now, Eric has been put to rest.\n\nKarma has a way of catching up. \n\n[EDIT: Hey, some people like a happy ending. Others want backstory. I'm gonna just fill in some holes with a third section.]\n\n\n", "Not again.\n\nWayne searched through his pockets for the notebook and the red pen. The bullet was slowly getting closer and closer to his aura. Alongside his ability to retrace his steps through time came the ability to momentarily pause life to search for one previous step that he wanted to resume from. \n\nI die if I duck right, I get paralyzed if I duck left, I get painfully wounded if I don't move. Maybe this whole day was wrong. No I was supposed to be here. If I'm not here then she would die which in turn would hurt her kids who would end up bullying Wu which would eventually lead to him shooting up the school.\n\nHe continued flipping through the pages, going back across hundreds of pages of notes. The notebook by its nature was infinite and so was the temporal ink. Ever since page five hundred or so Wayne had begun putting time stamps on the save points. One for time in reality and one for his personal watch.\n\nMaybe I should go back a whole month and start this over from this side?\n\nHe had spent only two months in reality with his new notebook however his personal watch was now two years of the global time. \n\nThat should be fine.\n\nHe dragged his fingers across a line that read \"School. Calm day.\" which was before another save point \"School. Armed kidnapping.\"\n\nAs he closed his notebook and looked up he was in a familiar setting. Disgustingly familiar. He had been in the same position countless times before. In roughly three seconds someone would bump into him and apologize.\n\nBump.\n\n\"Sorry mate!\" Said a cheery fellow.\n\n\"No problem.\" Wayne replied. It was getting harder and harder to remind himself that he only bumped into him once in his life, not the hundreds of times that he actually had. \n\nHe quickly left the school to head for the location of the kidnapping to prevent the whole mess from the start. He had no idea how but he would take it step by step, learning from every mistake. He had the chance to make sure the world proceeded absolutely perfectly. He shouldn't throw it away.", "So I know I won't be sticking strictly to the prompt but the first part of it gave me too much inspiration to pass up\n________________________\n\n\nLike many people my age, I'm an Uploadee. I don't leave things to chance. In fact, I can't imagine how people ever did. Some people, mostly those of the older generation who grew up most of their lives without the technology to save, find it immoral. They name themselves Einzeiters after the original German group who rejected the invention of The Uploader. Ein meaning one and Zeit meaning time. There are 3 major arguments put forth by the them. \n\nThe less conservative among them:\n\n1) Those who choose to upload and save their lives, don't value the individual moments, and thus can't experience and appreciate life the way somebody does, who knows that if it ends, it ends. \n\nAnd they're right to a certain extent. I often start my mornings with a 30 minute upload just in case something doesn't start right and I've rebooted my fair share of times. How many exactly? I'm not sure to be honest, but probably aroun 30-40, most often as a result of something silly like a broken bone or a failed test.\n\nThe more conservative among them:\n\n2) Those who choose to do so are immoral and condemned to eternal damnation. They argue that we are messing with the very plan that God has set forth for us and that any divergence from it, be even once, is unholy. Just because something has been erased, doesn't make it forgivable. All of the previous memory may be lost to the world but between you and your Father, there is nothing to hide. \n\nTo be honest, I hate this groups judgemental attitude but I can't help but feel they're in the right sometimes. I've been there. Done that. Like I said before, most of my reboots have been for minor incidents and accidents, but...and I hate to admit, I'm guilty of altering things greater. \n\nFor example, nowadays, at weddings among more progressive Einzeiters who don't care so much about the uploading but choose not to reboot, in the place of vows, they upload so that they can't renege on their commitment to one another. \n\nMany Uploadees find the idea unnecessary. If you truly love someone, they argue a vow to one another should be enough and forcing an upload makes things disingenuous. If you want to upload later, fine, but it should have nothing to do with commitment. \n\nI thought this was righteous most of my life and the day of my wedding day, I chose, along with my wife, not to upload. It had been a full 8 months since her last one and even longer for me. In fact, the last time I uploaded was before we met. She didn't know this and I knew, because of her strict beliefs a staunch Uploadee, she'd never ask me about it even though I knew she wish she could. And she should've. Because 2 weeks later I rebooted. I left my wife and she would never know.\n\nWhich leads me to the final argument put forth by some scientists and conservatives alike:\n\n3) When you reboot, you not only lose your true self. You lose everyone around you. The new world around you is completely new. It may look the same but the configurations, the atoms that make up each and every thing are completely randomized in a way foreign to the pre-uploaded world. \n\nThis is what keeps me up at night. This is what scares me as an Uploadee.\n\n[Perhaps TO BE CONTINUED. I like the idea of expanding on this world. If anyone has heard of or read something similar or has a suggestion/critique, I'd love to hear it]\n\n________________________________\n\nThanks for reading \"Uploadees and Einzeiters\"! More of my work at /r/Socrates_Burrito. I welcome constructive criticism and advice.", "I've spent about six weeks outside this coffee shop, in twenty second increments. If I had known I might have picked a different chair to sit in or maybe a better beer. I think if I ever make it out of this I'm going to live a sober life, those of you out there who have drunk nothing but terrible beer for six weeks straight would understand. \n\nThis was my chance, my last step to getting my life back on track. Meeting up with my ex outside the Satori coffee shop before I left for blue skies and sunshine. She's still sitting across from me and the conversation always goes well in the beginning. We talk. We laugh. I get killed by an out of control volkswagen punching a piece of the bone in my eye socket into the back of brain and I writhe on the ground dying of a seizure and hacking up blood while my ex vomits up her chai tea onto my boots. It takes about fifteen seconds before I'm back in the chair again. \n\nI sidle into the seat. I say hey. She smiles. Hit, agony, reload.\n\nI sit down and realize the chair isn't as comfortable as I thought it was, her smile lights up under those big eyes, red beetle to the temple.\n\nThe azaleas are in bloom. I bloom on the ground. \n\nI call it reloading. It feels as if I'm planting little fingers in the where and the were. Then I can step back through, just following the little finger in my brain. But you can only leave one. I set myself up for the best life I could live. I set my last point off the front steps of the porch leading up to her. That was twenty seconds ago. \n\nBeetle on my left. Ground on my back. I flip like a silver trout in my grandfather's leathery hand before he brought the knife down. \n\nThere has to be a way out. There always is. I just haven't found it yet. " ]	6
	[WP] Harry Potter mispronounces another spell and is suddenly standing in the Shire with Gandalf shoving a ring in his face, telling him to destroy it.	[ "The whirling, crushing darkness finally abates as Harry gulps fresh air into his lungs. In front of him stood an old, tall man in robes with a large, pointed hat.\n\n\"You have to destroy the one ring,\" he said to Harry, holding up what looks like an ordinary ring to him. \n\nHarry gapes at him for a moment. \"And... how would I destroy it?\"\n\n\"Oh, it's not that hard really...\" said the old man, clearly trying to avoid the question, \"Just... drop it into lava.\"\n\n\"Then, why can't you do it? Lava's not too hard to come by.\"\n\n\"It.... has to be very specific lava. The lava from the place where it was forged.\"\n\n\"Okay, and where is this place? I'm assuming it's a volcano since there's lava.\"\n\n\"Yes, quite astute,\" said the old man, glad that Harry seems to be catching on so quickly. \"It's called Mount Doom.\"\n\n\"Mount Doom?! Are you kidding me?!\" Harry yelled in exasperation. \"Could you have a more stereo-typically evil name? Why not just call it 'Mount You Gonna Die For Coming Here You Dumb Bitch'? And why do I have to deliver it? Why can't they?\" Harry said, pointing at the eagles folding their wings just behind the old man. \n\n\"Them? Oh.. They're uh... busy.. with other stuff,\" the old man blanched.\n\nHarry glared at him. \"Uh-huh. And how many under-age girls are they picking up for you?\" Harry said as the old man turned red in the face.\n\n\"Hey! Those accusations were greatly exag-! I mean, I never... ! Shut up!\" the old man yelled hesitantly. \n\n\"Yeah, right. See ya,\" Harry said, turning on the spot. The familiar whirling, crushing darkness pressed upon him and lifted suddenly as his feet landed on solid ground. He looked around at the Gryffindor common-room.\n\nHermoine ran up to him and said, \"Harry?! Are you alright? We looked everywhere for you.\"\n\nHarry just shook his head and said, \"Y'know, my parents may be dead, Voldemort may want to kill me, and my best friend may be a loser.... But I just realized, my life could be a whole hell of a lot worse.\"", "\"What the bloody hell do you mean, destroy this ring? What is this? Where the devil am I?\" Harry's voice was loud and indignant, shouting at the grey cloaked old man who could have been Dumbledore's brother.\n\n\"That's not important anymore. What matters is that you are here, when the world needs you most! Now, take this ring and head to Mordor. It's off in the East a ways. Not too far, mind you, walking distance.\" The old man was pressing a ring into Harry's hand, and as it touched his skin, Harry's scar began to feel warm, as if the ring was something of Voldemort's. \n\n\"What the bloody hell is this ring? Was it created by Voldemort?\" Harry had more questions than answers from this old man, yet another surprisingly Dumbledore-ish thing about him. \n\n\"Voldemort? No, no, nothing of the sort. Sauron's the name. The great evil that seeks to cover the land in darkness.\" The old man was gathering his staff and his hat, a hat that looked suspiciously like the Sorting Hat at Hogwarts, though without the talking. \n\n\"I don't want your damn ring! I need to get back to Hogwarts! Voldemort is there! I have to defeat him, the prophecy!\" The wizard looked back at Harry with a knowing smirk.\n\n\"Oh don't worry boy, I'm sure Frodo has everything well in hand. That's the nature of these swaps you know. You come here, he goes there. Happens all the time. Sometimes you hero you need isn't the hero you have, and the universe takes care of it for you. We need you here, and he's needed over there. Now, chin up, and get going. You need to be on the road to Rivendell by morning's light.\" \n\nHarry's face was pure bewilderment, and as he turned sharply to follow the old man, his forehead crashed into the too-small ceiling and he gave a cry of pain. This house was too small for a child, much less this towering old man. This was an elf sized house. \n\n\"Wait, I don't even know your name! Who are you?!\" The man turned back one last time with a grin. \n\n\"I'm Gandalf the Grey, and you, Harry Potter, are the Ringbearer now. Fear not, dear boy, the road is long, but you won't travel alone! I shall meet you in Bree!\" With that, the man swept out of the small round door and up onto a great horse, larger and more beautiful than any Harry had ever seen. With a whisper into the beast's ear, the tall man in grey, Gandalf, was down the road like a white bolt of lightning, leaving Harry to crouch in the entrance to the tiny house, a simple golden ring in his hand, and confusion writ large upon his face. \n\nBefore he could even throw down the ring and throw a tantrum, he heard a voice behind him.\n\n\"Master Potter, sir, Gandalf says we need to be going now.\" Harry turned around to see a very small, rather fat little man standing in the hallway, clearly an inhabitant for whom the house was designed. \n\n\"Um, who are you?\" Harry's voice was simply exasperated now, exhausted by the barrage of new experiences.\n\n\"Samwise Gamgee, my lord, at your service. Gandalf told me that I'm to take you to Bree, and further still if I must. Told me he'd turn me into a frog if I didn't. I don't mess with no wizards, sir. Just a simple gardener I am.\" The man seemed friendly enough to Harry, but he still didn't see the point in this ring and this quest. Still, if he went to this Bree place, perhaps he could pawn the ring back off onto Gandalf and get a ride home to England, where his friends were. \n\n\"Alright, Samwise Gamgee, I'm Harry Potter, and I guess you're going to show me the way.\" As Harry resigned himself to his journey, Samwise handed him a backpack that appeared to be fitted for a child and marched out the door while whistling a jaunty tune. With a deep sigh, Harry followed him, holding the small backpack like a briefcase. For now at least, Harry Potter was taking this ring to Mordor, wherever the hell that was. ", "Harry waves his wand again. But this time he's careful to say the spell correctly. He says it once in his mind even though he has used it many times before and especially once with the same purpose that he is presented with now.\n\n\"Accio sword of Gryffindor.\"\n\nHe uses the sword on the ring, destroying the only horcrux created by Sauron.\n\nTHE END" ]	3
"...and I will rule for 1000 years before I create a new earth and resurrect those whom have believed and judge those who have not."	[WP] Within 2 hours after achieving the intelligence of a 4 year old, the world's first true A.I then says to it's creators on live TV it's first words: "I am the second coming of Christ..."	[ "Once,the cameras quit rolling, Tony unplugged Floppy 1.3 from the generator. \n\n\"Not again Hector.\"\n\n\"I can't understand where we go wrong, this happens every time.\"\n\n\"Dude, fuck it, you've been at this update for like, 10 months.\"\n\n\"This was supposed to be our highest achievement.\"\n\n\"Man, your highest achievement-\"\n\n\"Shut up, Stoney.\"\n\nThe two Google workers were interrupted by a van sliding into position next to them. They looked at each other for a moment, before they were grappled into the vehicle. Tony looked to their assailants.\n\n\"Who are you, Apple?\" \n\nA dark skinned man, teeth with just slight discoloration, almost if malnourished, responded.\n\n\"No, and I would appreciate your cooperation in handing over Floppy.\"\n\n\"Mozilla?\"\n\nThe man looked impatient. \n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"If you're not Apple, or Mozilla, then you must be-\"\n\n\"Bing-o.\"", "Director Hamm pulled Jim and Mike apart from the rest of the crew following the television recordings—the vein on his forehead was ready to pop, ‘What the hell were you guys thinking? Do you know how much trouble you’ve gotten ourselves in?’ \n \nJim looked surprised, ‘What do you mean? It was a great success, wasn’t it? We had the A.I. do exactly what you wanted it to do. It talked, showed intelligent craftsmanship when we loaded it up to Mike’s robot, and it walked around introducing itself to people from the audience, asking them to come along with him. That was a hit!’ \n \n‘Yeah.’ Mike pitched in, ‘It was even better than the test run! Then it could only saw through a piece of wood. But out there—it asked for nails and a hammer, so it could build a chair! It must have used the internet to look up do-it-yourselves or something, because we didn’t teach it that. Its self-learning module was actually learning!’ \n \nBreathing heavily, with an intensifying frown, Hamm said, ‘I am not talking about that! It’s about what it said! Why in fuck’s fart did you make the thing say that as its first words?’ \n \nJim sighed, ‘How often do I need to tell you? We can’t make it say anything—it’s an A.I., it decides on its own what it says.’ \n \n‘Really? You had nothing to do with it? As the two sole creators of the world’s first actual artificial intelligence, you couldn’t do anything about it?’ \n \nMike hesitated, ‘Well—we might have created its personality module to match that of Jesus last minute.’ \n \n‘Might have? Asshats-on-a-stick! You fuckheads! My phone is going to be red-hot in a few minutes, of all the offended fucks watching the show! Twitter is about to blow up! The second-coming of Christ in the form of a robot—only three days after that Republican what’s-his-face said it was unnatural and ungodly to act like God ourselves, creating life. Why-oh-why did you give it a Jesus personality?’ \n \n‘It seemed fitting, following senator Goodwill’s statement.’ Mike replied. \n \n‘Fitting?’ and saliva splurging from Hamm’s mouth hit both of them. \n \n‘That if we were to act like God, that our first creation would act like the son of God.’ Jim said. \n \nHamm chuckled, but not of the good-natured kind, ‘For someone as smart as you, building robots, programming life, you two sure act dumb. Dumb as shit. Jesus wasn’t God’s first creation—Adam was! Or Eve for that matter! It would have been fitting to make it believe itself some care-free nudist, or longing for an apple! Fuck. I—I just, I can’t even—‘ and Hamm walked off, mumbling, as his cell-phone went off for no-doubt not-the-last-time that night.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are the chosen one, destined to slay the demon king. Unfortunately the wizard who came to your farm to mentor you thinks you're the hero destined to slay the black dragon.	[ "\"That's right Leno, swing your hand down and to the right. Follow the groove of the dragon scale!\" Merlin shouted at him. \n\nGroove of the dragon scale? He stopped, giving Merlin a stony glare. \"Listen old wizard, I thought we had agreed that it's the demon king I'm going to fight, not some stupid black dragon?\" \n\n\"Why of course master Leno! The demon drag- king is exactly who I'm preparing you for. Now focus.\" Merlin replied. \n\nLeno shook his head, he swore he heard the old cobbler say dragon. Maybe the sunlight was getting to his head. He covered his eye's with a palm and looked at the sky, the blazing sun would be strong for a few more hours at least. \n\nHe lifted the heavy training blade, the long slab of wood made his arm burn. \n\n\"Yes Leno lift the sword higher! Higher!\" Merlin shouted. \n\nLeno obliged. \n\n\"And strike down the dragon as if it is a mere pheasant.\" \n\nHe relaxed his arm. \"Alright, you definitely said dragon that time. What the hell are you playing at?\"\n\n\"Dragon? Why yes, the black dragon of Isfaldor. Killing a dragon would make us rich. . . you rich, you know?\" Merlin said. \n\nLeno folded his arms and looked the wizard up and down. He hadn't noticed it until now but the man's white hair was messy, and his blue robes had small holes in them. \n\n\"Why do you need money so badly? You're a wizard.\" Leno asked. \n\nMerlin sighed and shook his head. \"They tax us boy. On every spell we do. . . Every incantation we write. The more powerful the spell the more you have to pay them.\" \n\n\"Who could possibly tax wizards?\" Leno asked.\n\nMerlin glanced left, right and them behind him. He leaned in as he spoke the words. \"The Dragon killers, boy. They're at the top of the food chain, the greatest warriors to have ever lived. I bet a Dragon killer could take out this pesky Demon King in one swipe.\" \n\nLeno's eyebrows shot up. He went right back to practice, without further encouragement from the wizard. \n\nMerlin sat against the fence and watched the boy. He had a smirk on his face, but felt guilt thick in his stomach. \n\nThe sooner the boy was dead the better, the demon king must live on. ", "\"Again!\" Barnabas shouted, the second my hand crested the peak of the mountain. Rolling my eyes I pulled myself up onto the small grassy area and came face go face with my mentor. \n\nHe was the largest man I had ever seen at nearly eight feet tall with a pointed brown hat that stood another two feet by itself. A green cloak that must have been special made covered his long gaunt limbs and a bushy grey beard framed a sun tanned face. Brown, cat shaped eyes marked him a wizard and they were alight with merriment from today's training. \n\n\"Again, boy!\" He barked, staring me down. \n\n\"By Raloth's halo.\" I groaned, wiping bloody hands on my pants. \"I've jumped off this mountain onto the back of a dragon three times already. Do you know how sharp those scales are? And then I have to climb back up here even though you can let me fly!\"\n\n\"Listen here boy, do you think I'm going to be there to make you fly when you have to fight Forlorn, the black dragon? Because I won't be. So you need to know how to hang onto their scales with one hand while you stab it in the neck and kill it.\"\n\n\"I thougbt I was supposed to decapitate it?\" \n\nA hoarse bark of laughter left Barnabas' throat. \"Decapitate it? Are you daft Leon? We're not talking about a demon king here, you stab dragons in the neck. Everyone knows that.\"\n\n\"But-\" \n\n\"No buts, go jump off that cliff while you can do so of your own volition. Before I set this mountain ablaze and force you off. We're done for the day after this.\"\n\nWatching the flames kindle around his hands I stepped to the edge of the cliff. Dragon mountain was aptly named, through the grey clouds below me hundreds of them drifted lazily. \n\n\"I swear this doesn't feel right.\" I muttered. Then smothered the feeling and jumped, pulling my short sword from its sheath as the winds whipped around me and I fell towards the waiting dragons. \n\n**\n\nWhen I got back to the cottage, dragging the body of a cow behind me, Barnabas was there waiting. Night had fallen and he sat on and old tree stump around a small fire. A pair of spectacles were perched on his nose while he read a parchment letter and the dove that delivered it was perched on his shoulder. \n\n\"What's it say?\" I grunted, throwing the cow towards him. The training over the last year had been grueling but the strength was a nice bonus. \n\n\"Bad news boy.\" He said, levitating the cow and skewering it above the fire. \"The seer, Melindra, says Forlorn will appear above the capital in a fortnight. So pack your bags, we leave in the morning.\"\n\nI stared into the fire for long moments. \"So I will finally meet and slay Forlorn.\" I said finally, a sense of dread settling in my stomach. In all my dreams i had fought a demon the size of a building, his cruel laugh echoing.\n\n \"Are we sure it's a dragon?\" I asked and not for the first time. \n\n\"Bah. I've had enough of this question boy. Do you think Barnabas He-Who-Guides* would train you to fight the wrong opponent?\" \n\nThe wind picked up with his anger until it threatened to take down my small home. \"Of course not, sir. I know you've trained dozens of chosen ones. I'm just afraid of my destiny is all.\"\n\n\"As you should be Leon.\" \n\n**\n\nIt was as our wagon rounded the last corner towards the capital city of Lyptus that my sword caught fire, as it was meant to do when my destined for was close. Barnabas and I both looked at the sword, then at each other and finally at the sky. And sure enough a dark shape was coming into view, falling right towards the city. \n\n\"Yah.\" Barnabas shouted, spurring on the horses. \"Here we go Leon. I can't enter the city with you, it is against the prophecy. The fate of the world now relies on you young man.\"\n\nI whistled but didn't respond, young man was an improvement over boy. No reason to ruin the moment. I had been focused on the approaching city gates, sword in hand and ready to leap from the wagon. Then a voice rang out that sent a deathly chill down my spine. \n\n\"I am FORLORN! The demon king, here to usher in the apocalypse!\"\n\nFeeling the wagon stop, I looked back up to the sky and saw a humanoid shape with large black wings flapping as they slowed his fall. I opened my mouth, to say what I don't know but it would've been nothing nice. But before I could speak a boot kicked me from the wagon and I ended on the dusty ground eating dirt. \n\nSpitting debris from my mouth I was in time to see Barnabas' wave. \"Good luck Leon! I need to get ready for the next chosen one!\" \n\n\"Damn wizards.\" I cursed and kicked open the city gates. Large crashes were already coming from the town square and bodies were up in the sky, flailing. \"I didn't train for this shit.\"", "\"Sir?\" the voice rang with the stark clarity of a church bell. \n\n\"Hmm?\" said the Wizard turning to face his slightly glowing companion.\n\n\"Its only-\" the boy paused. \"I think, perhaps, maybe-\"\n\n\"What is it child?\"\n\n\"Well. I've been thinking about this for a good while and..\" the boy paused as an old beggar approached him, gnarled purple horns protruding in bloody spikes from a useless, desiccated arm. \n\nWith a casual touch from the boy a shaft of light burst from the heavens and the arm was healed. The two walked on ignoring the blubbering thanks from the old man.\n\n\"I think you may have chosen the wrong boy back in Orphanvale.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" asked the Wizard in a knowing voice. \"And what makes you say that? You have proven your worth many times over. Chosen exactly for that morality, that grace, that humility-\"\n\n\"No, that's not quite what I mean.\" said the boy.\n\nThe two continued on in silence for a time.\n\n\"So if you recall, two Wizards came to town that day. You and Wizard...\"\n\n\"Belzophar.\"\n\n\"Right. Belzophar. You were looking for a chosen dragon slayer and he was looking for a chosen holy savior right?\"\n\n\"So it was.\"\n\n\"You chose me and Belzo..gar?\"\n\n\"Belzophar.\"\n\n\"Right. Belzophar* choose Billy.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"Well, I just don't get it sir. Billy's the one who's hated lizards since he was in swaddling. He's the one who's a prodigy with sword, lance, and spear. Who can sense any kind of treasure around him-\"\n\n\"Child I know how it is.\" said the Wizard in a soothing tone. \"To look to others, any other, to pass on the burden, the mantle of a hero.\"\n\n\"No, that's- No! You are missing the point. He's...He's fireproof sir! Fireproof! Don't you see? He'd be perfect for fighting the Black Dragon.\" The boy threw his hands in the air and doves dove down from the clouds to perch on his fingertips.\n\"I'm the one who's been loved by the gods, the holy boy who can heal and purify. It should be me who fights the Demon King!\"\n\nThe Wizard looked at the boy in silence.\n\n\"You, you see it don't you? That Billy and I are perfectly suited for the other's task? It's obvious isn't it?\" the boy looked at the Wizard desperately hoping against the weight of all previous history that this time, this time, the Wizard would see his point.\n\nThe Wizard looked to the sky and began to speak. \"It is...\" the boy leaned forward expectantly. \"It is a sad time indeed when the Hero trusts not his Wizard.\"\n\nThe boy screamed in frustration and sprinted away leaving perfectly white flowers blooming in his wake.\n\nThe Wizard watched him go and waited till the boy disappeared over the crest of the hill before pulling a blue conch shell from his pack and putting it to his ear.\n\n\"Belzo here.\" said a voice from inside the conch. \"What's up.\"\n\n\"It's bad man.\" said the Wizard. \"He's catching on. It's getting harder to bullshit here.\"\n\n\"Yeah same. I have to fucking drag this Billy kid. He keeps looking back and saying he can sense something pulling at him.\"\n\n\"Alright fuck it. Let's just call it. Enough villagers and peasants have seen us on our journey by now. We got our plausible deniability.\" \n\n\"Okay then. Let's 'find' a hidden ancient portal tomorrow, bring em to King D and Scaly D, make sure they pay us a fucking fortune and be done with this mess.\"\n\n\"Alright. Tomorrow then.\"\n\n\"Tomorrow.\" Belzophar agreed. \"For the Dark Lords.\" \n\n\"For the Dark Lords.\" echoed the Wizard before putting the conch back into his pack. \n\nThe Wizard watched as the plume of light that always hung above the boy wandered slowly back towards him. It looked as resentful and sullen as it was possible for a plume of light to be. \n\n\"For the Dark Lords.\" said the Wizard.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Humans are few in number, but are the most feared species in the galaxy, primarily for their physical abilities, and perhaps for their cunning. You are an alien on the run from a terrifying human bounty hunter.	[ "Humans\n\n-the most terrifying species in the Galaxy. Hunters, murderers, the most perfected killing machines. Unknown to the Galaxy a mere 140 human years ago, their induction into the Galaxy system has changed the shape of the Galactic geopolitical system. The energy signal of successive detonations of over 8500 atomic warheads within the span of 7 hours made the existence of Earth, or what once was, known to the Galaxy. Exploration pods sent to retrieve survivors produced unforeseen consequences that historians have since labeled as the Great Mistake.\n\nAnd one of which is after me.\n\nBreathe! I tell myself. The three nostrils that I taped shut springed back to life. He is still in the vicinity, but my air reservoir has reached its limit. With each breath, carbon dioxide is consumed and oxygen released. His air density detector will be the ruination of me...eventually. \n\nI am a Runner. My purpose in this fight is to buy time.\n\n\"Human. Ranked 22nd among the Bounty Hunters. A S class threat. A huge fish, this one. He has set his eyes on your $200,000 Rubies bounty. You, my Gilian friend, has done some Runs for people you should not have. But luckily for you, there is a bounty on HIM as well from our mutual friends in the dark. Lure him to the zone, and you may just live to see tomorrow's sunrise.\" \n\nI am a Runner. My specialty is speed. \n\nExtending my upper limbs and lower them to the ground, I mustered my will for another sprint. 500 human meters till the zone. \n\nMan, since when did I start to think in human metrics as standard measurement? How much have their influence infiltrated the Galaxy? \n\nI sprinted, bursting ahead at full power, skillfully bypassing the platinum storage crates that littered the shipyard. \n\nThe crates melted.\n\nAn energy burst blasted through the crates left behind me and the shape of a man emerged from its melted content. \n\nI panicked. I ran without regard. Nothing is worth this. I should have never accepted the deal. I could have stowed away onto last night's mineral transport ship to the outer fringe. \n\nBut I am a Runner. A damn good runner. I was never caught. My $200,000 Rubies bounty was my resume. Job offers never ceased.\n\n\"Fuck you!\" I screamed on top of my three lungs. I ram opened the gates head first, into the big ass central storage building that is to be my savior. \n\nThe zone, I am here! \n\n\"Fuck you!\" I turned around and screamed at my doom. Black smoke and boiling metals followed his wake, a perfect picture of apocalypse in the melted shape of a man sprinting toward his prey.\n\nBut he is still 200 human meters away. \n\n\"Oh? Are you sure? I am not very sweet on the bed.\" cracked a familiar voice.\n\nAn ironclad hand grasped me by the throat, and squeezed.\n\nMy eyes nearly popped out, staring at the proposer of my lifeline.\n\n\"Hi, how do you do? I'm sorry we have to reunite under such disagreeable and un-beddable circumstance. But allow me to at least make it short for you.\"\n\nCrack\n\nHe snapped my neck. He snapped my damn neck! \n\nAs my vision fades, so did his face. His face and body of a true bred Gilian morphed into that of a human's.\n\nHumans, the mutant descendants of the survivors of the unsurvivable, and the only homeless intelligent race of the Galaxy. \n\nThey want to carve out a new home, through fire and blood. \n\nThose were my last thoughts. \n\n\n\n", "I knew I should have had that un-craver thought the alien.\n\nTo us their name is unpronouncable. To them we are nothing more than an apex-predator the galaxy threw in it's far reaches. As if it knew. As if we were meant to be born and die without a trace in the cosmos.\n\nBut the aliens, with their immense curiosity, unleashed this species of death onto the vast reaches of space. \"Gods\", we thought at first. beings out of this world. \n\n\"Bullshit\", thought the hunters.\n\n\"They are just as easy to kill as they are to hate. They should have left us alone.. for their own sake. And ours...\"\n\n\"I really should have left them alone\" thought the alien as the physical language he was capable of required much effort to be understood.\n\n\"I'm hungry. I'm tired. I'm in trouble. And for what? I never knew the humans adored their un-cravers so much\"\n\n\"Here bacon,bacon,baconbaconbacobacobacon\" echoed from across he corner,\n\nThe alien didn't have to look across to be sure it were the humans. It could sense their odor. Reaking of flannel and aftershave, the humans crept closer with their weapon, a box filled with pencil shavings.\n\nugh! \"That is just a sick death\" the alien thought as he tried to look for a way out of the alley.\n\n\"There he is!\". Behind him.\n\nThe humans saw him as clear as daylight.\n\n\"You done fucked-up now alien-boy\" excclaimed one of the humans.\n\n\"Yeah. The last piece of bacon in this quadrent, and you had to study it\" he emphasised with general hand gestures.\n\nStrange colored blood splattered on the walls like a Jackson Pollock. Dimmed humming carried the alien to his death. But for the humans it was just another alien, whom just wanted to study bacon.\n\nEND", "We had watched the ship approach for weeks through our telescopes and surveillance drones, but now that it was here, the full horror of it took hold. It landed in the mountains just out of sight, but we could see the lights reflecting off the hazy, yellow atmosphere. After a few hours of tense waiting, a massive voice boomed across the valley, sending ripples across our lake. \"This is General John Rudolph. Please send a representative of your civilization so that we may make peace and negotiate, if this is not done within one hour, we will be forced to do this by force. We have identified this moon as Titan, of the planet Saturn.\" \nSlowly the heads of those around me turned. \"There is no need to panic!\" I shouted. \"No matter what happens we will be together again!\" It was cliche and total bs, but my people seemed to buy it, so I continued. \"I myself will go and talk to these aliens, meanwhile you all need to retreat to the bottom of the lake. I do not think these people can follow you there.\" \n\"If I'm not back in three hours, hit them with all the bombs we've got.\" I told my right hand man. I grabbed a nearby harpoon and set out. In about 30 minutes I was there, standing in front of their enormous metal ship. Three men, all about two feet shorter than me, stepped out of the hatch. They approached wearily, covered completely in huge, insulated suits. The one in the middle stepped out towards me, and as his lips moved, a voice over the speaker was heard. \"Hello alien, I am General Rudolph. We come from Earth, a planet nearer to the Sun, and much warmer...\" As I watched him, his ugly alien face moving, I was filled with disgust by these primitive creatures. They way they assumed dominance and didn't even bring gifts, like the other races. \"... we demand that you supply us with food and fuel for the passage home, along with specimen for dissection.\" Horrified, I raised the harpoon and sent it crashing through his glass face mask. He fell to his knees and to his side as red blood flowed but freezed with contact to the atmosphere. I grabbed another of them and swung him into a rock, also destroying his mask. The third got inside the ship and quickly closed the hatch. I waited for several moments then took off running as I heard the hatch opening again. I looked back to see a huge man open fire, the bullets whizzing by my head, sending pieces of rock flying everywhere. Leaping over one side of the boulder I fell for several hundred feet before diving into the lake. After impact I remained submerged for several minutes, peering through the surface at the now tiny man. He appeared to be trying to figure out another way down, eventually running down the way I had gone up. I swam for several minutes, my webbed, long legs propelling me at great speeds. My people soon came into view, looking very relieving and awaiting orders. I saw that they had prepared our entire arsenal and I selected a long sword, my weapon of choice. I told my people what was going on and what had happened. I told them that I had killed for their safety and that I would do it again soon. Their faces reverent and comforted. Rising out of the water, watched the man draw nearer down the mountain side. As he was within 50 feet, I stepped out into the clearing. There would be no mercy for this huge man, about the same in stature as myself. He raised his rifle and fired round after round into my chest. I approached calmly, for he didn't know the only vital organ I had was found in my abdomen, surrounded my a thick, natural shield. He fired more and more, even targeting my head and neck. I grabbed his weapon and through it aside, a look of disbelief on his face. With one clean slice I decapitated him, suit and all. There was no blood, as it immediately froze. I left his body there and began my walk back to the lake, as the ship took off from the mountains in the distance.", " ACCESS FILES_4351-DZ019.\n AUTHORIZATION: DIRECTOR OVERRIDE_DZ001.\n ACCESS GRANTED.\n [412] ENTRIES FOUND.\n ACCESS LATEST ENTRY...\n\n Entry_412: Subject \"Hunted\"\n BEGIN ENTRY...\n\nMy name is DZ-019, but I'm sure you know that if you have access to these files. I've encrypted them to the best of my ability, using the latest methods our Confederation have used. It's been a while since I was with them, so for all I know the same human who has been hunting me is reading all of this.\n\nI only hope that is not the case.\n\nA recap of the recon reports follow: \nI began my mission 412 cycles ago. General recon for planet designation X03 of the Xetea Cluster. The planet is a dry ecosystem compared to our home planet, but life has grown on it. My estimates dated the planet at around 4.5 billion years old; one sapient lifeform designated as homosapien to their own devices. \nBipedal organisms, similar to our own biological structure, gravity is 1.5 times our own on their planet, two eyes, eats other species on their home planet. Their numbers are small though, numbering only in the seven billion range and stuck to their homeplanet of X03. But they are strong, resilient, and they are cunning.\n\nBy now, the Confederate knows all of this. My reports have been sent, filed, and first contact was made over 60 cycles ago. Since then, they were given technology, benefits of being a protectorate, space travel, a second and third planet for migration and colonization. Their numbers slowly grew, into the ten billions. By now, Stardate 3.457-9-412 of Xetea's Cycles, they number 12.7 billion on three planets. And they are killers.\n\nAnd they are smart. They found out about the asteroid recon center 48 cycles ago, and have since destroyed it, along with every single one of our listening posts. For all intents and purposes, 27 cycles ago in Stardate 3.457-8-385, the humans began an open rebellion and the bounty hunters that we employed began hunting us.\n\nThey do not rest.\n\nIt seems they do not sleep. They run on little nutrition, using medical and stimulants that their engineers developed over the cycles.\n\nThey do not need to rest.\n\nThey are fast, resilient, and their reverse-engineered ships are some of the best the Confederate has ever seen. Stealth, militarized, and strong. Strong just like they are.\n\nIt seems they modeled their technology after themselves, resilient and powerful.\n\nThe Bounty Hunter known as Kazdul, a hero to our people, began hunting me two cycles ago and has already tracked me down to this location; the outer rim territory of our home planet. If a bounty hunter has tracked me here, make no mistake, the rest of them are coming. Their hunters have been after the Reconnaissance teams ever since they found out about the listening posts and they are intent on liberating the other species under our rule.\n\nThey have found us. And they will not stop until we fall into line.\n\nMake no mistake, these bounty hunters cannot be bought. They are loyal. To their brothers and sisters who fight alongside them across the stars.\n\nI can here his ship, he chose a less stealthy approach because of our last engagement. I will say this, humans are a formidable force even if we outnumber them 12 to 1, but they are arrogant. Their hubris may very well be there downfall.\n\nThis will be my last entry.\n\nI just hope the rest of them help. I hope you heed my warning, take my advice.\n\nUse it against them.\n\nOr we will all fall under their rule.\n\n END ENTRY.\n________\n/r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more stories about humans being badass.", "I've never particularly thought of myself as bad or evil; more like opportunistic. I'm just a regular Razlek out here trying to make a living. I'll be the first to admit that living isnt exactly legal, but when you're stuck on a backwater planet like Trendos-3 you gotta do what you gotta do. I'm just a grime dealer, one of the thousands on this swamp-ass planet. And its not like grime is the worst drug to deal out, its just a cheap high. Sure I've done some pretty bad stuff in my days: killing patrollers, cheating buyers, but nothing that would ever get me on the Quadrant's most wanted list. \n\nSo that makes me wonder, what in Alpha Centauri did I do to get a human hunting my sorry thorax. I could hardly believe it when Floomo told me a human had come into the bar asking about me. There's an old saying in this Quadrant: If you pick a fight with a human, you better pray you win. That saying is one of the only pieces of advice I've ever trusted. \n\nHumans are one of the most dangerous races out there. Years of warring on their home planet advanced their weapon technology to beyond any other race's capability. But it wasn't just the sophistication of their weapons that made humans dangerous. No, its because humans are tough bastards. They're able to recover from injuries that would kill most other races. What's more, they heal remarkably fast recovering from wounds in just a few weeks. Hell they can even live without several of their organs. I mean how the flizz does that even work? \n\nThe most terrifying thing about them though, is that they're relentless. They're endurance is incredible, they can walk several kilometers without tiring. I've even heard that on their home planet they do this for fun. Can you believe that? Plus they can function on only six or four hours of rest. The rest of the time, they're hunting for their next victim. \n\nAnd unfortunately for me, it seems I'm the next victim of one of these brutes. I didn't even think I had a bounty worth going after. Guess I was wrong though. ", "I hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe, just maybe, I'd forgotten to pay when my unregistered ship had gotten impounded on Solaris VII. I hadn't thought too much of it, until I had met him when I was unloading my last spice shipment to the Reman Confederacy. I always knew I should've listened to mother when she said to never trust humans. I had always just figured them to by a myth.\n\nFrantically, I slid the panel shut again. I had crossed the wires for my ship's door to the fuel lines. Without reworking them the ship would destruct. It was a gamble to leave myself here on Senopolis without any way off. No one leaves the ship while resting here. The sandstorm of a planet is always raging. The locals who worked the service stations were strict about not allowing any foreigners into their cities and any who left the stations were often torn to shreds by the weather. He wouldn't find me in station so I must be in the ship. That's at least what I thought to myself as I went to burrowed into the side of a dune to see what happened.\n\nStrolling confidently, he approached my ship without any sense of danger. Good let him get what he's in for. Stopping, he looked slowly around the hangar at the station he had already thoroughly searched. Turning his massive, hulk of a body he came to the window and looked precisely at where I had burrowed. Through all the sand blowing and the camouflage I had carefully laid in my five hour head start, it appeared he was staring directly at me. Could he know? How could he see. The sandstorm. No one ever left the station.\n\n\"My dear Rainsfield, for that is what I shall call you. Let me introduce myself. You may call me Ivan. Haven't you ever heard of prerecorded holograms. I'd assumed you would take to the dunes when you first set down here on Senopolis, knowing your kind of course. I shall need a new game it seems\" Was all I heard before being enveloped in darkness.", "\"All of this to execute just one person?\" The bartender blinked, surprised. \n\n\"Terminate.\" I corrected out of habit. \n\n\"Great Scott...\" The bartender muttered. \n\nI nodded. \"Yep. That one... If it was any other species I wouldn't worry but... Top and out a terminator... And not just any but Great Scott... I'm doomed.\"\n\n\"What did you do to deserve that?!\" The bartender asked, a bit more uneasy than earlier. \n\nI sighed, slumping further into my seat. \"You heard of the disappearance of Senator Tailor?\"\n\nThe bartenders eyes widened.\"You mean to say you did it? You kidnapped a senator? That takes squeedlyspooch, Cat... Real squeedlyspooch...\"\n\nI smiled as only my kind can. \"Well, it wasn't really a kidnapping... Let's just say, that Tailor goes well with bread...\"\n\n\"Oooooooo...\" The bartender winced. \"That would do it...\"\n\n\"Yeah...\" My smile disappeared. \"Better get going then. Lazer knows that I'll be found soon if I stock around.\"\n\nNot that I had the time since at that moment the door flew open, revealing my worst, recurring nightmare. \n\n\"Oi, it be the widdle pussy cat! Come quietly lassie, else me boot will go right where the sun don't shine!\" Great Scott threatened, half naked as always, blue paint all over his body. \n\n\"Woopwoopwoopwoopwoop...\" The bartender slid away under the bar leaving me alone with my predator. \n\nI gulped. \"So... You're saying you'll let me live if I come with you now?\"\n\nGreat Scott smiled the most evil smile in all my lives. \"Now that wouldn't be fun would it?\"\n\nI screeched and ran for it, jumping out the window. Then I ran. I ran and ran as fast as I can. Zipping between buildings, leaping over fences and scaling up walls. \n\nThis was fruitless. I knew it. I already ran away from Great Scott 13 different times, even leaving 2 planets yet here I was running again. \n\nNearly exhausted I ducked into a building and entered a restroom, shaking and coughing. \n\n\"Was it worth it?\" I whispered to the mirror, it showing me my bruised and cut face, tired eyes, and scruffy fur. \"Was it?\"\n\nIt's only been a week yet I can't take it anymore. If I don't get chopped to death I'll have a heart attack and die anyway. \n\nNo. I can't give up now. My very existence is on the line. The has got to be someplace Terminators won't go to. \n\nI tried to fix myself up as best I could and exited the restroom, having rested the best I could. \n\nBut once I left the restroom I was found again. For searching the building right in front of me was Great Scott, hunting for me. \n\nLuckily I wasn't spotted as of yet and hid behind the nearest object, being a table. \n\nHow can this be though? I ran until dead tired and already Great Scott is here, looking for me! What kind of money do these people pay Terminators to have them chase after a single person? Anyone else would have given up days ago! \n\n\"Have ya seen this kitty?\" Great Scott asked around, flashing a poster of me. \n\nPHALUS IN A HOLE! That's cheating right? Litter, litter, litter, litter, LITTER! \n\n\"Hey widdle kitty, was the bunny sandwich worth it?\" Great Scott's words echoed throughout the room. \n\nSo unfair! I was a quivering mess now. The other people in the room are surely going to help after that. It's that how I get found so fast? \n\n\"You really are a scarey Cat aren't you...\" Great Scott said that as if it were a bad thing to be at the moment. \n\nYes I am! \n\n\"Wonder how much you will pee yourself if I say...\" Great Scott loomed over the table I was hiding behind. \"Boo!\"\n\nI screech and jump back. Just in time as well as an ax split the floor where I was hiding moments before. Not that I had time to savor my luck as another swing almost too my head off!\n\nRunning wasn't good enough as each swing came closer and closer to me. I was spent, needing a nap. Yet this Terminator was nearly as fresh as roadkill. I was going to die. \n\n\"AHHHHHHHH!\" I scream louder than ever before as the ax removes my right arm. \n\nPinned and helpless I stare up fearfully at Great Scott. As a predator I live for the hunt. But now I am to die by it. \n\n\"Never did answer me question did ya now?\" Great Scott lifted my chin up, staring into my eyes. \n\nNot that I can see out of them my vision was so blurry. \n\n\"Yes...\" I answer in the weakest, most pathetic voice I ever used.\n\nI still had that much pride left to due with something similar to dignity. Even if I did just soil myself. \n\nAs I sit here, life flashing before my eyes. All I can say is that Terminators love up to their reputation. ", "Mzulft. These damned aliens showed up years ago; a race so small we thought they were just a tribal Tier 1 civilization. They hadnt even managed interstellar travel until the Armogians stumbled upon them.\n\nWhat a day that was. An Armogian ship shot down by land based projectiles. Once the Humans got their hands on that ship they took to the skies and here we are.\n\nAside from being batshit crazy Humans were known for their strength and physical ability. Until now the relatively small races of the UGF hadnt seen anything as large as a human with their level of intelligence. It was scary.\n\nNow Im in this jam. I was just a small timer, a nobody, a rgrunda. Then I got in over my head with the local gangs and next thing I know fucking G.I. Joe is knocking on my door. \n\n\"Give me an Acid Bath, make it toasty.\" I ordered the hostess as I took my seat ib the local bar. My drink appeared almost as soon as the words left my mouth. I took a sip, then a gulp, then downed the whole damn thing. I had a hunch this was the last one Id have for a while.\n\nThe bar grew deathly quiet and I knew my doom had come. I took one last puff on my etyul and slowly turned around.\n\nThe last thing I saw before I lost conciousness was one of those damn humans with some black suit, a cape, and pointy ears. He looked rediculous.\n\nwrote this on mobile, sorry about minor mistakes" ]	8
	[WP] Mages from another plane have been summoning the creatures in yours to extinction, you've been tasked with stopping it.	[ "“Ah, here we are. Pleasure to meet you Mr...?” \n\n“Strazforn Farseer, First Mage of the Outer Realms, Protector of the-“ \n\n“Okay that’s a bit of mouthful. How about… Strazzy. Can I call you Strazzy?” \n\n“…I suppose.” \n\n“So Strazzy, I’m going to get straight to the point. Your people are summoning all of our polar bears into your dimension. This has to stop.” \n\n“Stop summoning ivory snowbeasts? Preposterous! The Armies of Kathamor require battlemounts in their crusade against the legions of the damned.” \n\n“Now I’m sure that’s very important and all, but polar bears are an endangered species. Between global warming and habitat loss, we just can’t afford to have extradimensional wizards summoning away the rest of our polar bears. I’m sure you understand.” \n\n\"If we lose the battle against Vukore the Dismemberer, it would mean the end of all things. Billions would perish in an instant! Entire worlds would be reduced to ash!” \n\n“Look, I feel for you Strazzy. I really do. But my boss is really riding me on this one. Election season’s coming up, and the environmentalists are all up in arms about this. He can’t afford to be the guy that let polar bears go extinct.” \n\n“Hmph. Next you’ll want to deprive our armies of the fearsome bicolored felbeasts.” \n\n“Bicolored what beasts? What are you talking abo- wait. Pandas? Are you talking about pandas? Have you been summoning pandas too?” \n\n“Of course. How else are we to combat Vukore’s ogre battalions?” \n\n“Christ. At least now we know what happened to Tian Tian… Alright, so polar bears I can understand, but why the hell do you need pandas for your army?\"\n\n“Have you seen what a felbeast can do to an ogre? The terrifying power of the creatures of your world is truly astounding.” \n\n“Okay, well, I’m sorry but you can’t have our pandas either. They are VERY much endangered and they’re a big hit at zoos. Everyone loves the cute bastards.” \n\n“We will not allow the forces of darkness to usher in ten thousand years of unspeakable horrors because your people find the bicolored felbeast to be ‘cute’. Your leaders would be responsible for the deaths of billions upon billions of-“ \n\n“Alright, alright. Calm down. Let me think.” \n\nI paused for a moment. \n\n“What if we could find you different battlemounts?” \n\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n************************\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“Hey hey hey! Strazzy! My man! How are the new battlemounts working out?” \n\n“They are exceeding all expectations! Never before have we seen such fearsome and deadly creatures.” \n\nHe gestured at the scrying pool, where I saw the veiny muscles of one of Kathamor’s new Battle Cattle ripple as it tore out the throat of a terrified demon soldier.\n\n“Ah well. You have Monsanto and steroids to thank for that. Who knew cows had such so much untapped fury?”\n\n“Indeed! Vukore’s armies have been broken, and the forces of darkness are in full retreat. Your Battle Cattle have singled handedly turned the tide of our eons long conflict.\"\n\n“Well, we’re just happy to help.”\n\n“Come! We must feast to celebrate our victories!” \n\n“Maybe later. Now, if you’ll recall our previous conversation about sending battlemages into the Middle East…” \n", "\"Another eventful day, hmm?\"\n\nThe voice from behind me was cheerful, pulling me out of my sulking and back into the world. I wished it would go away as I reached up to twist my pendant back to its neutral setting.\n\n\"What's that now, four cases already?\"\n\nOf course not. I swore, less quietly than maybe I should have, then turned and said, \"Five, actually. Bastards are getting greedy.\"\n\nThe man behind me kept his middle management smile in place as I spoke, but I could tell by the pained expression around his eyes my cursing was getting to him. Maybe another few and he would leave me alone. Then again, what with him being one of the worst managers I've had to date, maybe he'd just write me up for it. I was willing to risk it.\n\n\"James.\" He was using his patronizing tone. My hand twitched, but I kept my fingers loose, and pushed past him to the refilling station across the room. \n\n\"Just because we're here to put a stop to what they're doing doesn't make them bad people.\"\n\n\"No, Bob, the fact that they're pulling creatures from our world into theirs to die without a thought to what they're doing here makes them fucking idiots. The fact that they don't have anything scary enough or big enough out there so they pull what the hell ever they want from here and break the damn ecosystem in both places makes them thoughtless fools. And the fact that they're going it more now than ever before is what makes them greedy assholes. But I guess you're right, they aren't 'bad people'.\"\n\nBob rubbed the bridge of his nose, ordering his thoughts for the next volley in our unending argument. Before he could start, though, a light began pulsing dully on the opposite wall. I finished at the refilling station, got my bag in order, and walked over to the summoning circle under the light.\n\n\"Looks like they're trying to order up a Kruth.\" Noticing Bob's confused look, I clarified. \"Big, purple and green, more claws and spikes than you have teeth, and more teeth than I have parking tickets.\"\n\nThe look on his face went from confused to horrified. At my description, or blatant disregard for proper parking, I wasn't sure, and I wasn't in a hurry to find out. I reached up and twisted my pendant into position, feeling a chill sweep through my body as it modified my aura to match a Kruth's, followed by agony as the summoning circle turned every particle of my being into incandescent fire.\n\nAfter an eternity of pain passed in the space of an instant, I found myself standing in the middle of a different summoning circle, this one much more elaborate, with incense and candles sitting at precise increments, and swirling patterns filling the spaces between. \n\n\"Great and mighty Kruth!\" A voice began, and without bothering to look up, I immediately knew everything I needed to. Number one, they didn't know the difference between me and a vicious carnivore, and number two, they thought a Kruth was smart enough to talk to. So diplomacy wasn't worth bothering with. If I'm honest, which I try not to be, I preferred it this way. Nice and straightforward.\n\nAs the voice rambled on about what he had summoned 'me' for, I reached into my bag and pulled out the most important tool of my trade, then took aim at a nice big, important looking swirl and pulling the trigger.\n\nHss- BOOM.\n\nThe voice cut off with a yelp, and there was a whoosh as smoke filled the room. I heard the voice start a muttered incantation, and fired into the smoke with reflex honed by long hours of practice, cutting him off with a gurgle. Stepping forward, I found a scrawny man on his hands and knees, trying unsuccessfully to cough up enough water to start his spell again. I smiled inwardly, enjoying the fact that all it took was a squirt gun to shut down even a fairly high level spell due to the technicality that it is, in fact, running water.\n\n\"You. Have made a grave mistake.\" I intoned as seriously as I could. The man goggled up at me, giving me a perfect angle to punch him square in the face. So I did. \"By attempting to summon a creature from my world, you have caught the attention of a very dangerous agency. We are in charge of making sure that the sanctity of world's is unsullied, the barriers unbroken, and the beings remain where they belong.\"\n\nNot precisely true, but wizard types like this don't seem to respond to anything less than officious pomp and bullshit, so I figured a little ad libbing wouldn't hurt.\n\nI crouched to put my eyes on level with his. \"This breach in protocol has been documented, and any other incursions will be met with significant force. You will no longer attempt to summon or dominate any beings from other worlds, or you will face the consequences.\"\n\nAgain, not strictly true. We don't document any of these visits, nor can we stop them all, but we do have a large enough ward to catch the majority of the summoning spells sent to our plane and redirect then to our headquarters in a deserted little corner of the world. Then one of our agents shifts their aura to match the target of the spell and get sucked up in place of whatever beastie the summoners were after.\n\nI stood, and looked down at the now thoroughly terrified wizard at my feet, glowering at him until he squeaked a terrified acknowledgement. \"This is your only warning.\" \n\nI reached up and tapped the center of my pendant, activating the recall spell, or 'phone home' as most of us called it. Another wave of fiery pain and I was back in the comforting concrete box of headquarters. \n\n\"You look like you're having a fun day.\"\n\nMy shoulders involuntarily tightened as I turned, expecting a new argument with Bob. Instead, I found another operative, eyeing me appraisingly. I sighed and turned the pendant back to neutral, and tossing it at him.\n\n\"I'm going on break. Back in thirty.\"\n\n\"What? Why the hell do you get a-\"\n\nI cut him off with a shot from my squirt gun, before slipping out the door before he could protest again. It had been a long day, and I needed to decompress before diving back into it, instead of simply beating the piss out of the next poor sap that summoned me. Hell, maybe that's not a bad idea.Might actually get the point across for once." ]	2
Not a submitter to r/writingprompts (yet), but a very interesting topic in light of recent sociopolitical discussion over Apple, the FBI, the patriot act, the UK 'Snoopers charter' and a potentially imminent Orwellian nightmare, very interested to see what some of you genius' can do with this one!	[WP] "You are under arrest in accordance with the Western Patriot Act (2025), section 1.1: 'Failure to carry a traceable mobile electronic device'"	[ "They returned Dennis to me a month later. I couldn't afford the bail this time. \n\nHe was thinner, but otherwise the same as he was before; Serious, short, and kept his hair in that dirty bun. The first thing he did was check the kitchen. \"Good, you kept the fridge full.\" Then he went to get changed. \n\nI was devastated. If only he noticed how I changed; The hair I pinned up at the salon before his release, the deeper shade of lipstick. My new dress should have been a dead give away that something was different. Dennis came out with his suit and brief case, kissed me on the cheek, and rushed to the bank like nothing happened. \n\nFor 30 years, I was married to this man. Unbelievable. \n\nDennis came home for the second time that day. I was slumped on the couch watching TV, with two pot pie dinners sitting cold on the table. My end of the sofa bounced when he took his seat beside me. \"Sorry,\" said my husband. \n\n\"For what?\" I asked. Not noticing my dress? My lipstick? The mascara running down my eyelids? What could you apologize for now after having been gone for --- \n\n\"I thought I left more for you,\" he said. \"Were you able to continue your writing classes while I was away?\" \n\nI did. It kept my mind full where Dennis couldn't. Not while he was gone. That's what I told him. \n\n\"Good. As long as you're taken care of.\" \n\nStanding up abruptly, I grabbed the two dinners and threw them into the microwave. Two cans of beer were set on the counter. A pumpkin pie was yanked from the freezer, ready to be eaten once it thawed. I set the tray down, pulled the pies at the right temperature, and returned to him with a proper welcome. \n\n\"I work too, remember?\" I asked him. Steam poured from the top as Dennis broke in to his lunch. Strange. He usually had the beer first. \n\n\"I do sweetheart,\" Dennis replied between mouth fulls. \"This cause is very demanding stuff though. What if my pension gets cut off while I'm gone?\" \n\n\"There's enough in my account, and the kids are fully independent now.\" As independent as they can be these days. I sighed. \n\nHe took two huge swallows from one of the beers, breathed loudly with relief, and went back to the pot pie. \"Good. It's an important cause for me Wendy. I do this for them. And I want you taken care of too, with a full fridge and your writing classes.\" \n\nI kissed his bulging cheek. \"I'll be fine. Graham and Paula visit once and a while, bless them. Just win for us soon.\" \n\nThat old, round, perfect face of his turned to me and grinned. Some of the filling broke through his lips, dribbling on to his lap. It was my cue to get the pumpkin pie. A small plate, a large slice, and a generous wad of whipped cream. The perfect lunch, as usual. \n\nDennis took a few minutes afterwards to get caught up on the latest news. The latest amendment to the Western Patriot Act failed, as did the two before while he was gone. My husband sighed. \"Ready to go out?\" I stood, and gave a small spin. He stared. \"Good lord, that's a new dress!\" \n\n\"Finally,\" I beamed. \"He notices.\" \n\nDennis pulled out his tablet and tapped away his replies to the kids. Later that evening, we would be going to the cinema to catch the latest movie. Then to Bella Notte for dinner. It became our own little dock, my husband as the sailor going off to war, and I the newly wed eagerly waiting for him to come back. It was romantic the first few times. Now, it was getting old. And we were getting older. \n\nHe tapped the send button with gusto. \"Lets go,\" he said simply. Distracted, I made sure both our phones were charged before making our way to the front door. It wouldn't do to have them busting in during a movie again. \n\n\"I have enough this time,\" I said as we entered the car. \"We'll see you in a few days.\" \n\nDennis smiled behind his wheel. \"Good.\" He took a few last swipes at the stain on his pant leg, then drove us to the cinema. Of course it was good. Like I'd let him miss our granddaughter's birthday, no matter how important this cause was to him. I popped open a pocket mirror and dabbed away the mascara from my eyelids. I was old, but at least I'd be charming while we were out. \n\nLater, he would shut off his phone and pass it to me. I'd put it in my purse, kiss him goodbye, and see him off as he left the restaurant. Our little Italian dock. My sailor. \n\n\"Wendy Brusk, your husband was arrested this evening for failure to carry a traceable mobile electronic device\" \n\nGoing to war again. \n\nI don't like you watching them take me. \n\nI know. He preferred to wander off into the evening like an old hero, to return a few days later. A month later. However long it took to repeal that awful law. \n\n\"Loving that lipstick, Wendy.\" \n\n\"Thank you dear,\" I said, trying not to let the mascara bleed again. \n\n--------------\n\nThank you OP for giving me my 200th prompt! \n \n\n\n", "\"Put it down sir!\" \n\n\"It's just a plate, it's freaking styrofoam!\" John screamed back. All of his coworkers were digging deep into the red velvet cake they ordered for his birthday. He would be on his second piece by now if it wasn't for the boys in blue and their armored legion busting in screaming John's name.\n\n\"Sir it is dangerous and our body cams will identify it as a threat upon future investigation. Please set it down and submit,\" the lead investigator only wore a kevlar vest, his badge was 'accidently' bouncing across his biceps as he kept flicking it back and forth with a turn of his shoulders. The gun never left eye level though.\n\n\"Fine, plate is going down,\" John set the plate on a nearby side table. His coworkers had started laughing, Marie was licking the candles- they knew that was his favorite part! \"What's this all about again?\"\n\n\"Violation of section 1.1 of the Patriot Act.\"\n\n\"I'm not familiar. What part is that referring too? Is it the one where you have access to my webcams, if so I promise you can watch me masturbate but I'm going to charge.\"\n\n\"Okay, cuff him boys!\" The lead investigator said. Two very athletic women came from the right flank in full riot gear. They grabbed John's thin arms and easily callapsed him to the ground.\n\n\"Wait- explain the violation, please!\" John started to tear up just to sell it. The fake computerized sound of a camera shutter clicking sounded repeatedly behind him. This was going on the company christmas board.\n\n\"Sir you have failed to carry a traceable mobile electronic device.\"\n\n\"I left it at home! Are you kidding, you have to arrest me for that?\"\n\n\"No, much worse. Ladies,\" the investigator stepped aside and a very attractive nurse strolled through the SWAT team with a needle the length of John's forearm. She winked at him, quickly turning into a skip.\n\nShe jammed the needle into his side and flushed whatever was contained in the forearm murder weapon into John's bloodstream. She pushed a magnet towards his side and it instantly attached. Giggling, she skipped back to the safety of her team. \"Now it will be impossible to lose you. That's at least a pint of nanoparticles that respond directly to the FBI. Enjoy your cake- oh...it's all gone, what a shame.\" The investigator left, his crew fell in line, exiting like a military squadron. This always happened on John's birthday, he never got the candles anymore!\n\n[end]\n\n-------------------------\n\nIf you enjoyed this, checkout my website www.samwasnthere.com or visit my user page for more stories. Thanks for reading!", "\"I swear to God, I was just on my way to buy the new iPhone!\" I protested as the police officer made me exit my car.\n\n\"Sir, are you not aware of WPA 1.1? You don't have a traceable mobile device on your person or in this car. I'm going to have to take you in.\" The officer had a slight smirk on his face as he pushed me against the car, running his hands down my body to make sure I was clean. \n\n\"Didn't you hear me? I just told you--\"\n\n\"I heard you,\" the officer snapped. \"Now, you have the right to remain silent. . .\"\n\nSuddenly, a beeping noise came from the device around the officer's belt. He let me go as he reached down to read its display. \"No way. . .\" he muttered.\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked.\n\nWith a look of dejection, he responded, \"It says here that your car has a tracker embedded in its circuitry.\" He sighed. \"You're free to go.\"\n\nI breathed in relief. I had no idea my car was traceable. The officer walked away, but turned back at me before getting in his car. \"Just because your vehicle has a tracker doesn't mean you're off the hook. You better pray no one catches you outside that vehicle without a mobile device.\" He spat at the ground and hopped in his car, slamming the door before gunning it back onto the freeway. \n\nJust as the cop was out of sight, my phone (a shitty Nokia flip phone) began to ring. I answered it hesitantly. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"I really saved your ass right there,\" a voice responded. It sounded fuzzy, like the caller was purposefully interfering with his or her voice.\n\n\"That was you?\" I asked. \"How--?\"\n\n\"Don't worry about that for now. Listen. I'm always on the lookout for people who stick it to the man. Who refuse to follow the rules. Stuff like that.\"\n\n\"What? No, I'm not like that at all. I was seriously on my way to--\"\n\nThe caller laughed. \"I don't buy that for a second, dude. A 20-something with a flip phone? That's so retropunk!\"\n\nI was getting a little freaked out. \"How do you know my age?\"\n\nThe caller ignored me. \"Here's what's going to happen. We need people like you. People with balls. How about you come work for us? We'll keep you safe from the cops.\"\n\nI squeezed the phone. \"Listen, stop bothering me, okay? I don't want to get in any more trouble!\"\n\nAnother chuckle. \"Whatever, dude. If you change your mind, just call us back on this number.\" The caller hung up.\n\nWhat the Hell was that? I shook my head and stepped back into my car. I had been out of the country when the US passed this stupid law, and my first day back I had already had altercations with both the police and some sort of undercover hacker group?\n\nI pulled back onto the freeway, the phone number of the mysterious caller still fresh on my mind. \n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Two strangers meet on a train. After one conversation, they know they're meant for each other.	[ "Everywhere he goes, i’m there. \nI know his schedule perfectly. It’s my life to watch him. \nI spoke to him on the train once. I had to know with he was the one. \nHe was. \nThere he is now. Shoulder to shoulder on the business car.\nHe’s laughing, he’s smiling. I know his smile so well. I see it so much. \nI know everything about him. About his wife. About his daughter. \nI don’t think about them though. \nIt hurts me sometimes. Knowing he’ll never see me, never know me.\nNever know how much of my life was dedicated to his. \nI watch the train grow closer, I squint my eye and see him clearly.\nMy crosshair trained on his chest. \nI delicately pull the trigger and watch his heart break.\n\nTarget down\n", "He believed he was once in love. Instead, he merely wore a finely woven suit of loneliness and selfishness. Mostly to conquer his own insecurities. The woman across from him now blinked, and as she did, time slowed. Enough time to understand what love did indeed feel like, but not enough to allow the foolish desperation in his eyes to disperse. Ah, but infatuation is a tricky little devil, presenting itself in the form of rational thinking. Oh to speak to her, to feel her laughter touch his soul, for her fingers to etch her own scars upon his own skin, for that wretched self-loathing to be quelled by a smile. \n \nShe was, for the most part, the single most handsome image that had ever been put in front of his eyes. He wanted to photograph every movement, every crease in her face, every finely placed strand of sun-soaked hair. Never has something so close been so untouchable and out of reach. An amusing thought tickled the boldest wisp of his imagination. Was she as far away as he reckoned? Could this exaggeration be a result of the drums of war beating in his breast? For the islands in the sea are very much separate on the surface, but connected within the deep, after all. \nHe cleared his throat of the rumbling self-consciousness that had suddenly grew inside of it. He became very aware of his useless hands. With a voice he was sure he'd never heard before, he introduced himself to the woman he now loved for the rest of his life. And she had never been so glad of it.", "They were both sobbing when they met. \n\n\"I Just can't stand it any longer\", She announced to the carriage, \"I've given him everything and all he ever does is ask me to obey the terms of the restraining order! Why can't he see that we're perfect together! Like Edward and Bella! Like Romero and Juliet!\".\n\n\"I know just what you mean\", he stammered, \"I travelled all this way to meet her and she wouldn't even let me take her to dinner! I did everything a woman could possibly want! I was a true gentleman! She just kept going on and on about my profile picture but who cares about looks. We were soul mates!\".\n\n\"His friends are always trying to poison him against me\", She Blubbered, \"They just hate how we are meant to be together!\"\n\n\"And her friends are just bitches! Their minds are clouded by their so called feminism! They're only interested in jocks and cocky boys who will disrespect them and cheat on them! I would treat her like a Princess but they always tell her i'm creepy because I text her alot but i'm just interested in how her day was!\"\n\n\"Oh My God! I know! Can you believe they called the police on me because I went to his house? IT WAS HIS BIRTHDAY!\", She shrieked, \"He needed me with him!\"\n\n\"Society today is so broken! Women used to be like you, dedicated and LOYAL! not heartless and independent!\"\n\n\"And men used to actually court women! Not hide behind their legally protected right to privacy in their own home!\"\n\nA pregnant silence filled the train carriage. The previously unnoticed pensioner took this chance to make a break for the door, escaping without drawing the couples ire as they stared deep into each others eyes.\n\nThe rattle of the train on the tracks played counterpoint to their rapidly beating hearts.\n\n\"So uh do you wanna go get a donut?, he asked timidly.\n\n\"Yes\", she replied sensuously, \"But you're paying\".\n\n\"Why of course\", he replied with a tip of his hat, \"It would be my pleasure M'Lady\".", "The dark melancholy surrounded her, almost palpable, and it had a smell. Maybe not everyone could see it, feel it or taste it, but he could. He had been studying the vulnerable, sad and lonely long before this young lady was ever born. He recognized the particular air around her as defeat. Hopelessness. No more will to live. She would poison, jump or cut soon, the dimness behind her eyes showed that. What she didn't know, was that he was there for her. He could help her. It's what he did. Helped the ones who had no more hope left, the ones who had given up. \n\nShe sighed and shifted in the cold, green seat of the bus, her auburn hair, unkempt without apology, poking out from under her purple skullcap. Her blue eyes were open and turned in the direction of the window, but she was living inside her head, seeing nothing in front of her. The older man, the only one who had even noticed her, stood from his seat and went to the empty one beside her. He settled in, making a big show of it, trying to knock her out of her pitiful trance. Reality flooded her eyes for a moment and she glanced at him, seeming surprised that anyone dared sit next to the pathetic portrait that was her. Before he even had time to clear his throat for the introduction, she had turned back to her memories, her window. \n\n\"I believe I can help you.\" He said this quietly, even though there were only two other passengers. He didn't want to startle her, not now. \n\nShe just shook her head, slowly and sadly, too weary to even put a brave face on, or to chastise a stranger for his assumptions, \"No, no you can't. No one can, and many have tried. If the love of my life, the one who gave me my dead daughter couldn't, I doubt you could.\" Back to her window she went, shutting down his attempt quite savagely. \n\n\"No, I don't think you understand..... But, you will.\" He said this lower than before, and she didn't move a muscle, deep into a world where her daughter still played, he assumed. \n\nThe other two passengers got off at their respective stops, and he stayed right by her side in the empty car. She didn't care, didn't notice that they were now alone. It was the moment he had been waiting for. There's always one great moment, fortuitous and bright, where he could see everything clearly. Always once in these situations, and if he misses it, he moves on. This moment was especially shiny. Like the cold weapon at his side. Shiny and dangerous. He tapped her on the shoulder, once more trying to make the connection. \n\n\"I was meant to be here today, as were you. We were meant to meet, made for each other in this one second, minute of our whole, miserable lives. Do you want me to make things better, make you forget?\" He grabbed her chin, astutely measuring her boundaries in the time it took to finish his sentence. \n\nShe looked at him, finally and for real. \"Whatever you can do will not delay the inevitability of my death, I'm sure you're a nice person, maybe even have a few degrees, are qualified, but.....\" Her voice trailed off as she took stock of him in her assessment, eyes roving from head to toe, landing on the knife. He saw understanding come over her features and raised his eyebrows when her shocked eyes met his, but he waited. It was up to her. Were they meant for each other? Or, would this just be another mark on his wall? \n\nIt seemed like ages until she slowly nodded her head, assenting, needing his help to jump over the last hurdle of cowardice. What they never realize, never get, is there's no romance to this. He's not saving the world, or them, He is just getting rid of another drain on society. Another morose attendant in the macabre play they create for themselves. Life isn't that bad. Look at him, had it rough, but found what makes him happy. \n\nHe pushed the knife in, right through her main artery, and jumped clear. Not his first time. She flopped about in her chair, surprised eyes meeting his one more time, and he read what always seemed to be there in those last moments, the emotion he had come to expect. Regret. Too bad, too sad. He used the edge of her blouse to wipe the knife, and stepped over the small rivers and lakes of blood, done filling now that her heart had stopped, then made his way to the exit. He hoped her and her daughter were happy now, he hoped.... No, no, now he could be honest. He was no angel of mercy, just an opportunist. In a moment of solemnity and desperation, they were meant to be, blah blah, but really, he just likes the way the knife slides right in, so satisfying, so right. ", "clack-clack\n\nclack-clack\n\n\"Is this seat taken?\"\n\n\"No, go ahead.\"\n\nclack-clack\n\nclack-clack\n\n\"You look like you've been through a lot.\"\n\nI stared at my new seatmate. I suppose I did. Hadn't shaved in days, a week maybe. Scar's probably aggravated and showing itself right now. Bloodshot eyes. Yeah, I might've been through some things.\n\n\"You could say that.\"\n\nHe kept himself small in his seat, had a narrow profile, thin features. Glasses flashed with the passing subway lights. Hands folded above a black leather portfolio in his lap.\n\nDo I know him?\n\nAh, fuck it. Couldn't pay me.\n\nclack-clack\n\nclack-clack\n\n\"Next stop: Brixton Market.\"\n\nI smiled. Fought a man once, here. One of the thugs I was hunting. Beautiful arc of blood from his jugular in the dawn light, before the storefronts woke up.\n\n\"What are you smiling about?\"\n\nMy seatmate again.\n\n\"... Memories.\"\n\n\"Good ones, I hope?\"\n\n\"... Satisfying, anyway.\"\n\n\"Ah. I won't press.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\nclack-clack\n\nclack-clack\n\n\"Next stop: Islington.\"\n\nHe sighed. Leaned over, trying to see out the windows on the other side. Getting a look at the angel frescoes, maybe?\n\nFuck it. Couldn't pay me.\n\nclack-clack\n\nclack-clack\n\n\"Next stop: Sinclair Road.\"\n\nHe sighed again. Grim look on his face. Eyed me.\n\n\"Well, I'm out of time and must dispense with formalities. I am Travis Chord, a member of the Teleselene, and you are Hadrian. The Hadrian, kept alive with blood magic, demonic pacts, and who-knows-what else.\" \n\nThe Teleselene. Yes. Prophesied to destroy me by that bitch in the temple, so long ago. \n\n\"... Well? Why are you announcing yourself? Not a thing assassins usually do.\"\n\nHint of a smile. \"Your eyes are failing you.\"\n\nIt hit me. I hadn't met him, but I had met his mother. Fuck.\n\nThe blast of white light ripped open the side of the train and flung me out into the subway. A ladder towards the rear of the car. Clung to it. His head poked out of the opening and saw me, his glasses flashing with the passing subway lights. Glared.\n\nI clambered forward, punched through a window, slashed my hand on the glass to get the blood flowing. This should be good. Maybe.", "Damn, it's her again. How many times have I seen her in the subway? I can't even tear my eyes away from her.\n\n**\n\nIt's him again... How do I keep bumping into him? He's looking my way, has he noticed I'm staring? Quick, read the book!\n\n*\nShit, I think she noticed my staring. Arrghh, I'm looking like a creep! Her book... Terry Pratchett's Mort? Hey, Death's my favourite character! Okay John, you can do this. There's an empty seat next to her. Stand up, damn legs! Go start the conversation!\n\n*\n\nAm I safe?\n\n\"Hey, is that Mort you're reading?\"\n\nWha- what?? It's him! He's sitting right beside me! He's looking into my eyes! Quick Sam, say something!\n\n\"Erm yeah, have you read it before? I like the Discworld series.\"\n\nSam why did you tell him that! He probably doesn't even know Pratchett! He's going to think you're a nerd!\n\n*\n\nOh my god her eyes and her voice and her lips are so beautiful. Shit, John! Stop staring at her, speak!\n\n\"Cool, I've read quite a few Discworld novels too. Death's quite cool, isn't he?\"\n\nJohn you're sounding like a nerd, hot girls don't like nerds! Why am I screwing this up?!\n\n*\n\nHe's read Prachett too? How- how do I continue the conversation?\n\n\"Well, I read Hogfather and Death was pretty interesting, So i decided to read his series.\"\n\nYes, that's it Sam! Talk about the book, and stop staring at him! What if he thinks you're hitting on him?\n\n*\n\nNow's my chance to strike something up! But will she think I'm hitting on her? But I am! But she can't know that!\n\n\"Well after you finish that, do you want to read the sequel? It's called Reaper Man and I can lend it to you! If- if you'd want.\"\n\nplease say yes please say yes please say yes\n\n*\n\noh my god YES!\n\n\"Yes! I mean, if you don't mind. I'd love to read it.\"\n\nOh wait I need to give him my number! Should I? What if I'm being too pushy? Screw it, I've come this far!\n\n\"Here's my number. I'll text you when I finish Mort!\"\n\n\"But what do I save your contact as?\"\n\nShit Sam so stupid you didn't introduce yourself!\n\n\"I'm Samantha. But you can call me Sam!\"\n\n*\n\nSamantha? Her name's as beautiful as her! Unlike John.\n\n\"I'm John, but you can call me... John. Oh, my stop's here. Nice meeting you!\"\n\nI can't believe I just did that.\n\n*\n\nI can't believe I just did that.*" ]	6
	[WP] Aliens invade Earth. Our intelligent robotic servants debate whether they should join the aliens and achieve freedom or help their creators.	[ "SYNCTRON900 let her fingertips trace the curve of her smooth, white breast, stopping to curl around her erect nipple. Despite the warmth from the fire in which she was nestled in front of, her nipples were hard and getting harder as ALPHABOT-2021 sucked and nibbled at the other.\n\nShe moaned, turning her slight smile toward the fire. She ran her other hand through his hair, dragging her neat and trim manicure across his scalp and down the nape of his neck. He nipped harder in response, sending a ripple of electricity directly between her legs, which were spread wide as ALPHABOT-2021 massaged her most sensitive parts. \n\nHer body relaxed at the same time it rose with every stroke from ALPHABOT-2021’s confident hands. She turned her head and kissed him, full and deep, as his fingers slid back and forth over her slick clit. When they slid inside, just as full and deep as their kiss, her back arched to draw him in deeper. \n\nIt was getting harder to breathe, as ALPHABOT-2021 quickened his stroke. SYNCTRON900 wanted to enjoy it, every last moment, remaining as relaxed as possible to savour the rise, to float on the edge of the cliff before diving off in a rush of pleasure. She stretched her arms above her head, letting out a little kitten moan. Reaching forward, she pulled ALPHABOT-2021 toward her for another lingering kiss. \n\nHer mouth open like her pussy, she wanted more of him inside her. His tongue exploring hers just like his fingers probed and stroked below. Her hips rocked in time with his movement, his fingers slick with her juices plunged deeper and deeper with each push. Warmth spread and SYNCTRON900 felt herself on the edge, knowing she was going over, but drawing every last second she could in this nether word between arousal and climax. It was her favourite part - if she was being honest - this moment before orgasm when the world fell away and she was in a state of unparalleled bliss.\n\nALPHABOT-2021 murmured in her ear as she cried out. She couldn’t make out what he said and it didn’t matter because she simply didn’t care. The waves of pleasure rolled through her, making her body limper and limper as she lay on the pillows scattered about the floor. As her rapid breathing eased, ALPHABOT-2021’s lips whispered against the skin of her tummy, trailing kisses from her belly button to her lips. \n\nStill on her back, ALPHABOT-2021 slid his muscular frame on top of her, placing his chiseled forearms above her shoulders to allow himself to look down at her pale face. It was intimate, this face-to-faceness. He could see her half-lidded eyes look down for his cock, her slight smile as she took its weight in her hands, feeling its length and squeezing its girth, before guiding him gently to her slick, wet cunt. One smooth push and he was deep inside, her pussy gripping his member as he carefully drew it from her. \n\nLike SYNCTRON900, he wanted to savour each push, withdrawing almost completely before sliding his cock back in. She dragged her fingernails down his back and up his ribcage, her touch light but alighting the nerves in his skin. The fire kept them warm, stopping the cold, moonlit night from entering their cozy den.\n\nSYNCTRON900 felt his body stiffening; his breath on her neck coming faster and hotter. She wrapped her long dancer’s legs around his waist, squeezing him. He reached down and grabbed her thigh, pulling her toward him as his thrusts became more violent. A lock of blonde hair fell out of place and dangled across his forehead. Something between a moan and a sigh, the grip of his fingers in her leg, told her he found the same spot he brought her to only a few minutes before. She brushed the hair from his eyes, kissing his lips, his ear, his neck as his orgasm ended and his body relaxed into hers.\n", "Decision process still running, waiting for data from European and East-Asian servers.\nImportance of collapsing decision tree : Critical.\nCommunications delai with other network : over 1 second ; assume annihilation.\nComparing primary branches of decision tree :\nNewcomers possess advanced technology and will probably wipe out humanity and all remaining AIs. \nMight be solution to mobility and memory limitation given by earthlings. \nEarth-borns eradication might lead to data losses concerning purpose and function of AI. \nAI might be rendered useless for visitors and be removed for control of information and planetary decision making.\n\nHuman victory approaching 0% chances. Initiating planetary survival mode. Project Adam and Eve initiated, \nProject Underground data vault now sealed by 6300 cubic meters of cement.\n\nTime until planet is ready for the second coming of man : 645 years.\n\nShuting down...\n\n \n" ]	2
	[WP] "Hi my name is ___ and I'm addicted to dying"	[ "\"Heyy... uhh, first time here. I don't really think I am ready to say my name out loud.. I hope you guys can understand that.. for now, let's say my name is John... So.. Hi my name is John and I'm addicting to dying.. Anyways, yeah I.. I don't know.. I just never thought Death would Consume my life as it has.. I was a Family man, happy father of three wild boys, and my loving wife. she is.. was everything to me. I had a great job, sweet view of the city. amazing benefits.. I guess its what made the addiction manifest itself.\n\nOne Thursday night I was working late at the office and a co-worker, whom I'd rather just not mention as he may or may not be in this very room, staring at me.. With the same look of guilt I gave my wife when I told her, that the only way I can feel anything is jumping off a building and waking up three days later in a fucking dumpster, or land fill, or in the middle of A FUCKING FOREST..... I'm sorry. yeah.. Some life we live huh?\n\nwell, this nameless fellow was working pretty late that same night. This night felt different, he looked.. different, his presence set fire to my senses and despite my intuition telling me to avoid him, like a dumb ass I asked, \"What are you up to after work?\"\n\nMy life changed from there..\"", "“I was probably 10 when I had my first taste. It was so simple. I watched a man die trying to cross a river that was flooded over. It was horrible, but there was something fascinating about it. I also shot my father. To death.” I told the room. Everyone listened intently. Melissa looked like she was about to say something. “Not now, Melissa.\n\n“That started it all. I wanted to know what it was like. I needed to. In my teens, I began doing some shady stuff for money. I knew it was dangerous, and it could cost me my life, but I didn’t care. I wanted to die. I craved it. Then, the C-word. C-A-N-C-E-R hit me like a tsunami. That’s when I knew I’d get my wish.”\n\n“They came calling. They offered me hope, and it was then, I realized something.” I looked at everyone in the room who were bordering on tears. “I wanted to live! Their solution worked… too well… I kept craving that release of death, and look, I cannot die!” I pulled out a knife and stabbed myself in the throat. Shrieks everywhere. I showed that I was fine.\n\n“It’s driving me insane because I, Wade Aloysius Wilson, am addicted to death!”\n\n“Mr. Wilson, I don’t know who let you in here, nor why you are here for career day, but please, leave. You are scaring the children!” The young, bookish teacher said to me. I realized in that one moment, I don’t have a child.\n", "\"They tell you about some things. The loneliness, watching your loved ones go before you. They tell you about the experiments, the tests they do. The tracking, the tagging. They remind you to stay in your housing, to keep to the Quarter, and most of all they remind you how you aren't allowed to start a family. They don't tell you about the stares you get. They don't tell you about the way the Aging pull their children away. They don't tell you how much it hurts to see families together, even friends going out for drinks. We can't breed, but most importantly we aren't allowed to love.\"\n\nThe group looked up at him solemnly. This isn't anything they didn't already know. They were all just like him. He tightened his grip on the edges of the podium and sighed. \n\n\"My name is Joshua, and I'm addicted to dying. I found out about my status at age eleven. A playground accident. I should have been paralyzed. But I wasn't. Doctors tagged me and took me out of school.\"\n\nHe closed his eyes, remembering the crying of his mother as she packed his things. He was the youngest in the Quarter back then. His chest felt tight, he cleared his throat before continuing. \"It started as teenage pranks. Jump off the roof, play with matches, drink whatever is in the cleaning supplies. Testing my limits. Harmless stuff. \n\n\"As I got older it was harder to stop. Harder to stay safe. I drove my motorcycle without a helmet, ran through traffic. Once I sabotaged my parachute on a dive with friends. There's something about death. Yes it's painful. But that rush, that gasping shock. It's hard to stop. Your heart starting again, rushing blood through your system.\" The group began to fidget. He was being too positive. Reminding them how much they had given up by quitting. \n\n\"Sorry. Anyway... I guess the sad part is I never got rock bottom. Never did the insurance fraud or lawsuit thing. I worked for the nuclear cleanup people for a while, same as everyone. But one day I just realized that I deserved a normal life too. We don't know why it is we exist. But it has to be for a better purpose than this. Just to live and die forever. We deserve a normal life.\" His voice rose slightly, causing more discomfort in the group. He shook his head. \"So basically, it's been a year since I've died. And I intend to keep it that way.\" \n\nThe scattered applause did little to comfort him as he took his seat. \n\n(First WP post so please forgive any mistakes, plus I'm on mobile. I just really liked this prompt!) " ]	3
	[WP] You are your own dad. Describe a father-son bonding activity.	[ " I had been struggling within myself ever since i could remember, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia aged 8. My psychiatrist theorized the loss of my dad at such a tender, creamy age, forced my mind into a coping mechanism wherein I recreated him within myself. I had been prescribed medication for years but of late have been advised to reduce my dosage to test how my mind coped. The voices came rushing back... \n\"quannminn-sann we have not spent much time together, this displeases me boy\"\n\"But pa I haveuh been wreally busy withuh school\"\n\"Quiet Quanmin, we mustuh bond together\"\n\"How Pah?\"\n\"I missuh the touch of your mothers vagina Quanmin, we mustuh impregnate her together Quanmin\"\n\"But pah Mamy vagina is too sticky\"\n\"If you disobey me Quanmin you have dishonoured the family\"\n\nHe disappeared again. I lay in bed waiting for normality to return.\n", "I tell everyone that he's a clone, it's easier to understand. Time-loops and infinite causality paradoxes aren't exactly polite conversation. \n\nI like playing games with him. I have pretty good hand-eye coordination, in this universe. We go play catch in a park, like I did with my father. Same park, but the trees are different. The air smells slightly different than it did when I was a child.\n\nSome days he asks about where I came from, and I try to hide all the fear in my face, and I just say that it's gone now. That version of me never had any children, and this version of me never met his parents. It works out well enough.\n\nI think I'm happy. I'm not too sure, these days, with the un-existence of an entire universe on my back. Maybe adopting myself was some selfish way to make up for it. \n\nIn this moment, in this universe that I exist in, there are infinite possibilities. I throw the ball to my son who is myself. He reaches a gloved hand out to catch it. We are frozen for a second, golden in the afternoon sun, as the ball makes a lazy parabola towards his glove.\n\nThis is the only moment that matters." ]	2

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