Split (1)

train · 199k rows

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Feel free to reword this as necessary	[WP] "The aircraft that was shot down has just been confirmed to be extraterrestrial in origin"	[ "Captain Archibald Clemens entered the briefing room to the cry \"Officer on deck!\" and the simultaneous noise of scraping chairs and salutes. \n\n\"As you were,\" he said, sketching a return salute. He nodded to his XO, the bearded Lieutenant Veer Singh with his khaki turban who dimmed the lights and activated the portable holoprojector. The machine hummed for a moment and filled the darkened room in a bath of white-blue light. A thousand star systems filled the space, each a tiny dot in the space that was the Inner Sphere. Clemens nodded again and the projection shrunk, shifting down to the Spinward Periphery and further zooming in until a single star was visible with the orbits of its worlds in faint thin lines.\n\n\"Earlier today Carthage System Forces intercepted and destroyed an unknown aerospace fighter. The make is a S-2 Star Dagger not registered in this system. Seeing as there are no other habitable planets in the Carthage system, and all major asteroids settled and accounted for the only possible answer is that the fighter was dropped off by JumpShip. The wreckage is unobtainable seeing as it crashed in Barcid Ocean, and the IFF did not give up any details as to its user. We can only assume that it belonged to the pirates that have been raiding this world.\n\n\"If we're lucky they'll send another fighter to find out what happened to the first. If we're really lucky they'll write off Carthage and leave it be but I doubt that.\"\n\nA low chuckle emanated from the audience at that.\n\n\"Worse case is that they lay low and hold up on raiding until our contract expires. These pirates have a significant advantage in our lack of ASF forces. We can't attack their JumpShips nor their DropShips in space so we have to be quick and decisive in ambushing their ground raiders and try to take as many of them as possible in order to cripple their actions.\n\n\"Wolfe's tank destroyers will remain at the New Carthage drop port along with Shipley's commandos. Lieutenant Singh will form a rapid reaction force based between the city and the space port, the better to act as our reserves. I will take Alpha Lance and garrison the capitol; if the pirates attack the port then Lt. Singh can hold them until our heavies make it there. Any questions? Good. As of now any and all leaves are cancelled and all Chindits are to remain in ready stance. Dismissed.\" ", "Thank you for coming today.\n\nAt 04:20 ET, 20 June 2039, an unidentified aircraft was detected flying from the Russian far easy towards Alaska at high speed: the aircraft was moving at approximately Mach 11. \n\nUS Air Force F-41s on alert were scrambled to intercept. They could not match speeds with the incoming aircraft but were vectored to for the longest duration contact possible. The unidentified aircraft would only be in visual range for approximately 30 seconds. If the aircraft did not change course, the F-41s were authorized to engage the unknown aircraft with their new Hypershrike missiles. This would be to take down the unknown prior to crossing into American airspace. They were also authorized to engage with their high energy lasers.\n\nLikewise, ground batteries were moved to the highest readiness levels in case the fighters could not stop the incoming aircraft.\n\nGround control attempted to warn off the aircraft.\n\nThe fighters attempted to warn off the aircraft.\n\nThere was no response.\n\nColonel Samantha Jackson declared weapons free at 0431 ET and fired her volleyed her first two Hypershrike missiles. They closed at a combined velocity of Mach 26. The unknown aircraft was hit and began to decelerate. \n\nCommunication was attempted once more. yet there was no response. The unknown aircraft slowed to Mach 5.\n\nAt 0435, Captain Daniel Carter volleyed his first two Hypershrike missiles. These impacted the unknown aircraft at a combined velocity of Mach 20. The missiles impacted and the unknown aircraft slowed to Mach 1 and began flying erratically. \n\nThe two F-41s were over the horizon and began to engage with their high energy lasers. The unknown aircraft seemed to not be affected by the laser weaponry. As the unknown aircraft was now over Alaska, the F-41s fired a combined four Hypershrike missiles. These successfully impacted the aircraft causing that aircraft to impact in the Alaskan wilderness.\n\nA search and rescue team was immediately dispatched as Carter and Jackson orbited the site from above. The impact crater was impressive, as you can see, and it appears this was caused by the aircraft purposefully accelerating after impact was unavoidable.\n\nUpon arrival, the search and rescue team determined they were not equipped to handle the situation. They cordoned off the area and awaited those were so equipped.\n\nThe reason they were not equipped is why we are here today. Our assumption was the Russians or the Chinese under the guise of using Russian air space had attempted to test our air defenses. They have been doing so for some time, ever since the Putin Presidency. We had thought they had come up with a new, hypersonic aircraft or drone. Upon a very cursory examination of the crash site, the unknown aircraft was NOT Russian in origin. Let me say again: the unknown aircraft was NOT Russian. It was also NOT Chinese.\n\nIn fact, the unknown aircraft was not only not Russian or Chinese, it was NOT human. This unknown aircraft shot down by the US Air Force is extraterrestrial.\n\nWe have successfully cordoned off the area. It is now under quarantine. We are not taking the utmost caution when it comes to this site and the crash and the incident. We sincerely hope whatever agency sent this craft understands this was an unfortunate event and we wish to avoid further in the future.\n\nHowever, it has happened.\n\nIn short, the United States Air Force has shot down a flying saucer.\n\nWe will now take your questions." ]	2
	[WP] North Korea is sending missiles into the sea. Mocked by the rest of the world, they are alone in the battle against what lies beneath...	[ "Jack vaulted over the railing, the winds whining in his ears as distant lightning briefly lit up the sky and his surroundings. The sound of his landing was hidden by the sound of the thunder belonging to the flash of light. The storm was pretty close now, but at least it hadn’t started raining. The Rain would make the steel alloy wet and his gear heavy, this was going to be tough as it was. He didn’t much like the idea of having to freeze his ass of while doing it, and trying to manoeuvre around in a squishy tactical uniform. \nHe crouched down behind some crates and checked his 1911 .45 and his magasines. The lightning was rhythmically illuminating the oil rig and he was going to have to take this slow if he didn’t want the light to expose him. But on the bright side, he would have an easier time seeing the enemy combatants.\n\n“Peter pan what is your status? Over”\nHe sighed \n“For the love of Christ, couldn’t you have given me a cooler call sign?”\nA snicker on the other end\n“What? I thought it was quite fitting, the boy who doesn’t want to grow up”\n“I am currently hiding on the upper deck, trying to find my way in, I haven’t been spotted and I have yet to engage” He answered, ignoring the comment.\n“There should be a stairwell that leads into the control room on the southwest corner of the platform”\nHe briefly peered up over the crate and quickly ducked down again. \n“Yeah I see it”\n“Well what are you waiting for? Burning tax payers money here”\n“I think they are just happy someone is stopping those crazy North Koreans from bombing more ocean. I mean what´s their fucking deal?”\nHe peeked over again, not seeing anybody else on the platform.\n“Well if you find any North Koreans in the control room, maybe you can ask them. A syrupy sweet voice answered. Before roaring over the com;\n“Get your ass in gear!!!!”\nHe pounced from behind the crates and sprinted in a zig-zag between different pieces of machinery and cargo, across the platform keeping his head down. \n\n\nWhen he finally got to the stairwell he leaped down in a single bound and tucked into a combat roll before stopping smoothly before the heavy iron doors. There didn’t seem to be any looks on them. Maybe the North Koreans couldn’t afford security? He snickered to himself while gently pulling the door open while holding his gun in front of him.\nHe slid into the room, still keeping his profile low. It was dim inside the room, the only light source being the screens. There were two people inside, each sitting before a computer beside each other. The crunching of their frantic typing and muttering was the only sound. All their attention was fixed to the screens, they didn’t seem to have any idea that an intruder had entered. \nWhat are they so interested in? He sneaked closer. Pointing his weapon towards the back of the right figures head as he reached for his zip ties. \n\n\n“Don’t move” He whispered in Korean while pressing his gun to the back of the unlucky fellows head. \nThe other swivelled around in his chair, eyes bulging out he was about to say something but jacks fist stopped the words before they could be uttered by slamming into the man´s face. Knocking him out.\n“You don’t understand they are coming, they must be stopped” His hostage whispered frantically. \n“They are coming. They must be stopped! Please!”\n“What the fuck are you talking about? Who is coming?”\n“Look! Look!”\nFor the first time Jack actually looked at the screens, there was a blurry shape moving across them. He looked more intently, focusing his gaze. The figure seemed to be moving slowly, the camera was shaking with every step it seemed to take. He could tell that this was under water, and a live feed. Even though the resolution was pretty bad.\n\nBut then his face paled, the figure just moved past an American Aircraft Hangar “The Serendipity” he had been on it three days previously preparing for this mission. The boat was not even a quarter of the figures size, but the name could be discerned on the hull of the boat. \nThe Korean saw his face\n“Don’t you see? We have to stop them! They are your country´s pets after all!”\n", "All Alex could hear were the sound of his footsteps and those of the two North Korean soldiers beside him. His vision was a sea of black, punctuated here and there by the few pinpricks of light that made it through the rough burlap sack around his head. He heard a bark of Korean from one of his captors occasionally, but mostly just footsteps.\n\nAlex regretted ever registering for a tour. He'd signed up with a tour group on a whim. It had been surprisingly easy - a few forms to fill out, some money to wire, and some online correspondence with the tour company. He'd been flown in from the Beijing Airport. He had been a bit worried about the flight - some Googling revealed Air Koryo had been rated as \"the worst airline in the world,\" but his flight had been surprisingly comfortable. Sure, the cold hamburger they'd served him had been filled with meat of questionable origin, but overall, the flight was like any other. The blood sample they'd taken upon arrival had been the extent of his discomforts. Alex hated needles.\n\nHis accommodations - Yanggakdo International Hotel, had been a similarly pleasant surprise; he'd enjoyed a trip to the hotel spa on his first night. The days were filled with carefully regulated sight-seeing. His guides spoke great English, and seemed friendly, for the most part. They got a little surly when someone started taking pictures of something they weren't supposed to, but were nice otherwise. They'd even given Alex a few tips prior to their arrival - stock up on toilet paper and bottled water before entering the country. Apparently, drinking the tap water without boiling it first meant that you'd be doubled over with the squirts for the rest of your trip. \n\nAnd so his trip to Pyongyang had passed uneventfully, until today. \n\nAlex wasn't even sure what he'd done wrong - one moment, he'd been searching for the bathroom in a narrow, cramped hallway, and the next, he'd been jumped by several soldiers, cuffed, and gagged. The sack had come later. He'd tried yelling, but a swift kick in the gut from one of his captors had been the end of that. He'd been shoved headfirst into a vehicle and driven for over an hour. Now, they were walking again.\n\nTo be perfectly honest, he was terrified. He didn't like admitting it, but there it was. He'd heard horrible things about the forced labor camps in North Korea. Hopefully, some diplomat or the other would come and negotiate his release. Hopefully. He tried not to hyperventilate.\n\nHe heard more Korean. A door opened somewhere, and he was shoved roughly into a room. The door slammed shut. A few moments passed. Then, a voice spoke in slightly accented English.\n\n\"You must be Alex.\"\n\nAlex tried to respond around his gag, but his efforts resulted in a muffled groan.\n\n\"They gagged you? I am so sorry. Let me assist you.\"\n\nThe sack came off, and a hand undid the gag around his mouth. Alex blinked as his eyes re-adjusted to the light. In front of him was a pudgy, short man with a round face. The sides of his head were shaved, and the top swept back in a gravity-defying pomp. \n\nKim Jong-un.\n\nAlex started. \"Are you...\"\n\n\"Kim Jong-un?\" The man finished his sentence, \"Supreme Leader of the DPRK? Son of Kim Jong-il? Yes.\"\n\nAlex stared.\n\n\"You can call me Kim,\" said the Korean, \"I always went by my family name when I was studying in Europe.\"\n\nBy now, Kim had undone the cuffs around Alex's wrists. He beckoned for Alex to follow. They were in a gigantic corridor of some sorts. The walls and ceiling were a gray concrete. Their steps echoed in the vastness of the space, which sloped downwards. \n\nA few minutes of silence passed as the two men made their way down into the corridor. Finally, Alex spoke up.\n\n\"Mr. Supreme Leader, sir...\"\n\n\"Like I said,\" Kim smiled, \"Kim is fine. And no, you are not in trouble. So, speak freely. I imagine you have a lot of questions.\"\n\n\"Fine then, Kim.\" Alex said the name hesitantly. \"Why are we here? Why are YOU here? Am I being taken to a labor camp?\"\n\n\"Not exactly.\" Kim replied. \"I suppose I have some explaining to do.\"\n\n\"Alex, would you believe me if I told you that North Korea was a lie?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I mean that the country is not as it seems. The people, the government of the surface. All one giant facade, concealing a terrible danger.\"\n\n\"The surface?\" Alex asked.\n\n\"Yes. For many years now, I've had to act the belligerent tyrant. Striking out irrationally, sending missiles into the sea, holding executions and sending people to labor camps.\"\n\n\"Are you saying that none of that is true? What about the people who've been detained? Executed?\"\n\n\"I send a few to labor camps for show, but the majority are...taken. They're safe. Mostly.\"\n\nAlex was silent.\n\nKim sighed. \"I suppose this must be all very hard to believe. Alex, the truth of the matter is, a great danger lurks beneath the surface of Pyongyang.\"\n\n\"What kind of danger?\"\n\n\"We call them The Dark Ones. We don't know a lot about them. We think they come from somewhere deep within the Earth. They're extremely dangerous.\"\n\nAlex was incredulous. \"You're telling me that there are some sort of monsters coming out of the Earth under North Korea? If that's all true, why haven't you gone public with this information? Sought help from other nations?\"\n\n\"I suppose monsters is an accurate description. I can't tell you any more than what I already have, Alex. Not before we clear you. But rest assured, there is a VERY good reason why we haven't gone public with this information.\"\n\nThey arrived at an elevator of some sort.\n\n\"Here we are,\" Kim said. Before Alex could respond, Kim pressed a few hidden panels in the wall. A strange device revealed itself from among paneling that only appeared to be concrete. It appeared to Alex to be some sort of wall-mounted computer. It scanned Kim's retinas, took his fingerprints, and beeped as Kim rapidly entered what appeared to be several passcodes.\n\nAhead of them, the doors slid open.\n\n\"After you,\" Kim said.\n\nThe two men entered the elevator, which began a rapid descent. Alex could feel his stomach rising in his belly. The elevator was dropping much faster than any elevator he'd ever encountered.\n\n\"If all this is all so secret, why are you telling me?\" Alex asked.\n\n\"Again, I can't tell you much,\" Kim said. \"But you'll know everything. In due time.\"\n\nThe elevator slowed almost as rapidly as it began. The doors slid open with a small ding. \n\nAlex gaped. In front of him was a bustling underground metropolis, all enclosed in a cavern whose size dwarfed anything Alex had ever seen before. Entire buildings hewn out of stone. There were people - more than Alex would have ever expected possible in an underground cavern. The walls glimmered with ore, and dark passageways lead every which way. Above it all, giant fluorescent lights peppered the ceiling, shining down on the seemingly impossible space.\n\nKim smiled.\n\n\"Welcome to New Pyongyang.\" ", "The rest of the world denies they exist, but the Kim family knew better. The Japanese called them \"kaiju\", but thought they were merely myth. The rest of the world tried to keep North Korea, the true Korea, from defending itself because they knew not what monsters lurked below the waves.\n\nThe truth was, even the Korean people didn't know. The narrative they were given for why food was scarce and they did without a lot of luxuries the rest of the world had was \"aggression from the American imperialist dogs\", because it could be believed.\n\nThe Democratic Republic of Korea's army didn't even know why they kept \"test firing\" missiles into the sea. They were told it was to \"be vigilant and demonstrate their might\", but that wouldn't have required such precise coordinates.\n\nKim Jong-un didn't know why his family had been tasked with saving the world from these creatures, but nobody was going to stop him, not the Chinese, not the misguided imperialists to the south, and definitely not the Americans.", "The glorious leader of the people say in his estate's bar with the military commander at his side.\n\n\"We should break this act sir, it's only causing the rest of the world to further fuel ignorance of this beast! With all due respect for your choice to maintain foreign relations... Sir, I believe their governments are taking advantage of us.\"\n\n\"Two more of these, please.\" Rang our leader.\n\n\"We cannot keep this God under control forever, the south has got enough technological advancement to end this tomorrow.\" Continued the Commander.\n\n\"Enough, this fight is ours alone, we've already reached our Ming, if the governments of the world do not want to intervene we have no right to force this on them!\" Our leader responded, breaking the silence.\n\nHe continued, \"exposing a living Poseidon to the world and pairing it with the knowledge that we have... It would be devastating. I understand their decisions, I would do the same to protect our people from this horror.\" \n\nSo they sat in silence, trying to drink away the guilt of debt they owe to their people.", "Kim stood in silence, looking out over the dark, still city of Pyongyang. It was early in the morning, the sun had not yet broken through the thick black canvas of the sky and he was alone.\n\nThe city was usually not this quiet. In the day, you could hear the hustle and bustle of citizens going about their business. Engines from cars, blows of whistles from the traffic officers, the underground metro system - the city was alive in the day. The city was growing, expanding - Kim could see it happening. Something new opened; something exciting and unusual what seemed like every week. The people loved that. They adored it. It was a great rate of development and it added to the sprawling metropolis.\n\nBut right now the city was quiet.\n\nKim looked out across the urban expanse towards the mountains. He couldn't bare to hold his gaze in that direction for very long, as he knew all too well what the souls who lived beyond those mountains suffered day-in, day-out. He had to tell himself each day that the sacrifices of those people, the life they gave up, was not in vain. Famine and poverty was rife. Just 30 miles outside of Pyongyang and people were surviving on so little. His people. He looked down towards the street directly below the balcony he stood on and closed his eyes.\n\nEarlier that day, he had been told that they had starting moving again. They had been dormant for months. Months. Why were they mobilizing now? Kim did not know and frankly, he knew he may never know. He had no communication with them. He had tried, oh he had tried so many times, but each time he had lost people. Good people. There was a grave of North Korean sailors at the bottom of the sea, and Kim had sent them there. It was an attempt to avoid violence but mothers had lost their sons, wives their husbands and children their fathers. He had found the most intelligent minds in the known world and brought them to his country, giving them everything they needed and more to help find a solution but to no avail. Nobody knew what was stirring in the depths of the Korean Sea and nobody could find out. It was fine, a scientific phenomena, until the first boats were destroyed. And then more. And then there was the aircraft..\n\nThe only thing he could do to stem their advance, their attacks, was a defense.\n\nThe world media mocked him and his office. The missiles that launched from the east coast of his country and made their way into the deep, faceless ocean were jeered at and condemned as failures by Seoul. What the people of the world didn't know was that these efforts were the only thing standing between the South Korean people and absolute, total devastation. What the politicians of the world knew was that North Korea was the only thing defending the world against a threat that nobody understood.\n\nKim jumped as the phone in his pocket began to ring. He opened his eyes and dug the device out, touched the screen and held it to his ear. He greeted the president in English and assured him that he had not woken him, that he was already awake and he was happy to talk. He confirmed that they had began to move again and said it was fine to conference in Mr Kyo-ahn. The three men discussed the current tactical situation and confirmed the next action that would be taken. After 3-4 minutes the call was ended and Kim was returned to solitude and silence.\n\nThe following day, the DPRK would launch a test nuclear ICBM into the sea. It would be declared a success by North Korean media and a failure by the rest of the world. Kim would watch the launch from the shoreline and would follow the missile as it disappeared below the horizon. Every other politician in the Western world would see the launch as well from the United Kingdom to Spain, the United States, Australia and New Zealand. \n\nAnd they would silently thank him. They wouldn't make any statements, their government would make no press releases but in their thoughts, their dreams and in their most sacred of circles - Kim Jong-un would be hailed as a hero. A silent, solemn hero." ]	5
	[WP] Everyone has background music playing in their vicinity that reflects the mood of the person. The stronger the mood, the louder the music. A city somewhere has a backing track playing louder over all of the others, heard no matter where you go in the city.	[ "bzz bzz bzz\n\nI sloppily hit the snooze button on my alarm, but by then it was too late. I probably could have drifted back to sleep while the soft sound of I'm Only Sleeping floated through the room, but I had already used up my sick day last week, and I didn't want to be met with anymore Heavy Metal meetings with the boss. While I stumbled over dirty laundry to put on my work clothes, I stared out the window. The city spread as far as the horizon, but the beauty was indescribable these early mornings when the sun glimmered off of the skyscraper windows. It was the typical city scene: busy, overpopulated, and incessantly noisy.\n\nSlipping the tie around my collar, I stepped towards the window and cracked it open. I reached for my hearing aid on the desk and clipped it on to the magnetic port on my head. A smile crept along my face as I closed my eyes and meditated on the sounds I heard. It was one of my highlights of the day, to take a few minutes to hear the constant commotion outside. Everyone had a song to match how they felt throughout the day. Some days I'd sit and listen to may harmonious concertos blending into one another, as my neighbors would idly chat together as their music complimented the atmosphere. Other days it seemed the notes in the air were in battle with each other, producing cacophonous noise which inevitably set the neighborhood dogs into a barking frenzy. Until I was 5 years old, I had no idea that any of this went on. Imagine my surprise when I was fitted with my hearing aid for the first time and the rush of sounds hit my ears for the first time! I'll never forget the songs moving behind my parents at the time; a beautiful mix of Footloose and Walking on Sunshine, loudly leaking into the hallways.\n\nRecently though, there had been a soft undercurrent of somberness encroaching our neighborhood. I had heard a news report earlier in the week about it. Apparently there had been quite a few complaints on the outer skirts of Tolega, our city, of extremely loud music playing both day and night. The song was Mad World by Gary Jules It had gotten so bad that a few people even moved out, and now it was starting to spread into our neighborhood. A few authorities tried finding the source of the music, apparently, but it got to the point when even earplugs couldn't drown out the song. Last I heard they were going to send a drone out to the area.\n\nThe song only got louder as the weeks passed. Soon it encompassed the entire city, and several houses had been abandoned near the source of the music. \n\nWalking through the street, I noticed that many of the faces around me had changed from indifferent to solemn, and their own songs matched the ones playing far above our heads. My song, too, started to occasionally play to the sad melody.\n\nIt was Saturday morning when I had enough. I had just switched on my hearing aid to that song playing, in my room. I sat for several minutes before realizing it was being emitted from me.\n\n\"Enough is enough!\" I exclaimed, and hastily threw on jeans and a T shirt. I turned my aid off, and headed for the station.\n\nIt was a long trip. I stopped midway and got brunch at a cafe where all the workers were wearing the noise-cancelling earmuffs. I had been their only customer that day, and the rest of the town was just as deserted.\n\nWhen I got off my final stop, I turned my aid onto its lowest setting, and jumped from the volume spike. The next three hours were spent wandering around aimlessly from block to block, but eventually leading me to a part of town where I had to shut off the aid completely. I walked a few more blocks before stopping in my tracks. I felt my heart drop as I realized where the music was coming from. Blackwell Cemetery\n\nI entered the beautiful grounds and took my time walking through the paths. I caught my breath as I saw someone kneeling on the ground, their back facing me. Their back was slumped, and they weren't moving much. A large part of me just wanted to turn around, tell someone else and let them work it out. But I had come too far. And who knows who else had walked in my steps and thought the same thing?\n\nI now stood behind him. He was an old man, at the end of his life. There was a bouquet of flowers resting next to him on the ground, next to a gravestone.\n\nHere lies Elyn Boyer,\n\nLoving mother, grandmother, and wife.\n\nHeaven has gained an angel,\n\nwhile those on earth lost a most wonderful woman.\n\nI stood for a second more, before taking a seat next to him. He didn't acknowledge me except for a quick glance. I put my hand on his back, and he didn't remove it. I stayed with him there for hours.\n\nHis name was Edgar. He was deaf too. We signed to each other when it was getting late in the evening and he had to go back home, not to far from the cemetery. He said he appreciated the company, and offered to fix me a coffee at his house. I accepted.\n\nHis house was lovely, but it had obviously been a while since anyone had really 'lived' there. Dust was building up, and cobwebs were forming in the corner walls. We shared a cup of joe and 'talked' a bit about his grandchildren, what he used to do for work, things like that. No mention of Elyn.\n\nWhen the time had come to leave, I offered to come by the next day and clean the cobwebs for him. He seemed a bit embarrassed, but heartily accepted. And so became a pattern for the next couple of weeks. He shared with me a lot; photo albums of his life years ago, different brands of tea he had collected from traveling the world (a hobby he and his brother had shared as travel buddies), and eventually, his love for Elyn. There were many nights that I returned to my apartment and just wept, completely exhausted.\n\nEventually, though, the music died down, and people went back into that corner of the city. It was a mystery among news reports, what had happened.\n\nSince that period in my life, there has been less room for sad songs in my apartment. Today though, has been an exception.\n\nI received a letter that my friend Edgar had passed away and he was to be buried with his wife.\n\nAnd that song, Mad World, played again, just once. It circled the entire city to bid my friend goodbye.", "I heard the familiar blaring sound as soon as I awoke. It had been playing for months, all hours of the day, even when he was sleeping. It was the loudest B-Music in the city, and it drowned out everyone's close to it. Mine was a tune i could only describe as \"Annoyed\", which made sense given the circumstances.\n\nI sat up and sighed, the four pulsing beats ringing through my skull as I walked through my house. I poured myself some coffee, my B-Music getting louder but less agitated. As I sipped the coffee it mellowed, and though still louder than usual, was a softer melody than before.\n\nI got in my car and began to drive around the city. I had always loved going on a drive on my day off, and so even though I was stuck in traffic for nearly an hour, my B-Music became slower and slower, the soft dulcet tones ringing throughout my car, calming me even more.\n\nAs I neared the stadium I could hear his B-Music more clearly, and it began to drown mine out the closer I got. I parked in the parking lot and got a pair of earplugs from my car, putting them in before opening the door. The sound hit me like a physical wave, and the bass was so loud I could hear each trumpeting note in my chest. I couldn't hear my own B-Music any more.\n\nI strode into the building and walked to the main arena, and as I got closer to the origin of the sound my ears began to hurt with a very sharp pain. I struggled to stay standing, every pulse nearly knocking me to my feet. I took another step, and the music faded quickly. I kept walking, but the music kept fighting against me.\n\nI had gone deaf.\n\nI opened the only door separating me from him and as I did I was floored. I sat, letting the B-Music ravage my inner organs, the absurdly loud soundtrack vibrating my skull. I looked at the ceiling as my vision began to cloud. I only had a few moments to find him.\n\nTo end the madness.\n\nI stood and sprinted into the arena, the ring in my focus. I hopped up onto the mat and tried to stare him in the eyes, but I couldn't see him.\n\nI could feel each beat reverberate throughout my chest, and I could place where we were in the song just by the vibrations threatening to stop my heart.\n\nDun dun dun dun.\n\nDun dun dun dun.\n\nI can't see him.\n\nDun dun dun dun.\n\nI fall to my knees and my face hits the mat. I swear I almost hear an announcer's voice before I go under.\n\n/r/potatosalad" ]	2
[[WP] An average Joe/lene gets a random superpower](http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Special:Random)	[WP] An average Joe/lene gets a random superpower	[ "\"Hey Bert\" \n\"Hello Geoff, come for the bins, or you knocked off for the day?\" \n\"Eh, the bins. But seeing as you're the last one on the list,\" Geoff flashed a grin \"I'll pour myself a pint whilst you go get them\". \n\"Abandon the bar to you? Never! I'll get my niece to do it. Hired her for the summer. Oi, Jenny!\" The door to the kitchen swung open, revealing a slightly sullen face, attached to a stubborn, sullen frame. \n\"What, Bert? I'm off the clock now, and going home\" \n\"Yes, but you were pissing about on your phone instead of serving Mr Daniels. He's eighty three and has had three hips; he doesn't need to be balancing a plate of food and a pint from the counter. So you get to bring out the bins. Now!\" \n\"Fine\" The door closed with a humph. Geoff's eyebrow raised towards the bar owner. \n\"I know, I know; favour to my sister. \"Needs a bit of discipline\" she said. \"Teach her control\" she sai...\" Three bags of rubbish materialised on the bar, along with a note and a hand that, amazingly, managed to look sullenly at the pair of them. \n\"There you go. Gone now\" read Bert as the hand vanished with a rude flourish. \n\"Never mind; we're all like that at some stage\". Geoff reached towards the bags; three flashes of red later, and he pocketed the marbles of rubbish. \n\"At least her powers are fairly broad spectrum. Able to find a role to fit easily. Spent ages myself till I fell into the bin collecting job\" \n\"Yeah, and no-one outside the town believes that compost heap is the entire town's rubbish dump\". A splash, and a glass of water sploshed onto the bar. \"What's it to be? Pint of Doombar?\" The glass liquid tinted to brown, and a froth appeared. \n\"Cheers. I always like coming to Cana's.\"", "\"Just on time, as usual Joe.\" \n\n\"I know boss, gotta keep the customers happy.\" I said, pulling my jacket off.\n\n\"Ah, here's our first table now,\" TJ mentioned as he handed me two empty glasses. I took the cups and lifted one to acknowledge him as I approached the couple who sat at a table near the door. \n\n\"Hey guys, welcome to taps, where we have any drink you crave on 'tap.'\" I looked from male to female, \"have we been here before?\" They both shook their heads in response; a grin slowly grew over my face, it was always fun to see people in for their first time. \"Well what can I get you guys to drink?\"\n\nThe woman spoke up first, \"Do you guys seriously have everything on tap?\" she asked. I nodded. \"I'll have a diet yoohoo, then.\"\n\n\"Yoohoo lite, coming right up,\" I lifted the glass to my chin and opened my mouth. \"Blargh,\" the Yoohoo lite shot out of my mouth filling the glass quickly and leaving just a slight bit of froth. \"For you sir?\" I asked as I sat the glass down for the lady.\n\nHe stared in disbelief for a second then responded with, \"Nothing, I'm good. Not thirsty, no thanks.\"", " Phil had just got off another day at work. He works at a gas station, and most days are pretty mundane. This day was no different except for the glowing meteor that landed in the break room and infected him with an ambience of pure energy. Now he could mind control people or whatever. He didn't care, work was work. He did, however, decide to test his powers on his employer the next day to try to get a raise. \n\n\"Hey, Eric, you got a minute?\"\n\n\"Yeah, what is it Phil? Make it quick, Iron Chef is on in 15 minutes.\"\n\n\"I want a raise.\"\n\n\"Yeah, and I want an employee who isn't a greedy bastard.\"\n\n\"You will give me a raise.\"\n\n\"You're right, you'll get double what you're getting now.\"\n\n\"You'll pay my rent for a year.\"\n\n\"I'll have the money transfered to you by tomorrow morning.\"\n\n\"You won't be such a dick to me.\"\n\n\"Hey Phil, I really like that shirt. Is it new?\"\n\nWow. Phil couldn't believe this actually worked. He was really surprised.\n\n\"Well fuck my ass!\"\n\nHe didn't use his powers again after that.\n\n " ]	3
	[WP] Although the outside world is unaware, Death Row inmates are never actually put to death. Instead, their executions are faked, and in reality they are sent to...	[ "\"You're joking.\" Eli stood in his new uniform in the parking lot of his final destination. Beside him was his parole officer, if he could be called that, James. \n\nJames stood in his navy blue suit with an expression like metal on his face. This was not his first delivery. He was looking down at some of the pieces of trash strewn about the worn asphalt. In particular, a cigarette butt that had been stomped out not two feet from where Eli was standing. James knew it not to be Eli's, but he took pleasure in symbol. \n\n\"Not joking.\" James looked up from the cigarette on the ground and was met with a tired stare from the convict. Eli did not look amused. \"It wouldn't even be a funny joke.\" Jame's added, a quarter of a smile flashed onto his hardened face before being snapped down. \n\nIt was pitch black beyond the boundaries of the illuminated parking lot, and the two men were alone. This was after close, but this was when the training process always went down. James found it best that they be injected into the work force as smoothly as possible, and training in a live environment proved to be rather spontaneous for his liking. \n\nEli looked down at himself. He tugged at his maroon polo that didn't quite fit right and kicked out his legs to get a good look at his new black work pants. He took off his black hat, already uncomfortable from the freshly stitched edges digging into his head. He slowly flipped the hat around to face him, as if when it got all the way around he would wake up from this ridiculous dream. The parking lot light post shinned off of the white plastic of the name tag, illuminating the letters E-L-I written carefully in sharpie marker on the tag. Glancing to the left of the name tag, the label on the hat was clear as day. He almost couldn't believe it. Almost glistening in the light, green embroidered letters read \"Subway\". \n\nEli's heart sank as he read those letters. He was a stone cold killer, didn't give a crap about the law or anybody but him. Before he was caught he took down three officers while trying to escape with his stolen jewelry. Now, after skirting the death penalty, it had been handed back to him. He was given a position at a Subway Sandwich shop. Eli looked back from his attire to James, who was looking proudly at the Subway. \n\nThe subway sat in the middle of it's asphalt island. The letters on the top of the wall above the windows still illuminated, casting a yellow glow onto the concrete sidewalk in front of the store. Through the windows, the inside of the store was mostly black. The lights were off. But the menu boards still glowed an eerie white. James was pleased with his establishment. \n\nJames was a franchise owner, approached by a Texas State Penitentiary decades ago. Of course they couldn't kill the inmates, but how do you pacify these volatile people? The Penitentiary thought of no better way than to force them into a mind-numbing service job. After all, all the customers already treated the workers like they were half-wit convicts anyway. The program, aptly named \"The Texas State Pacification Program\" has proven itself to be more than capable of decommissioning deadly criminals. The convicts injected into the Subway Sandwich Shop workforce have been beaten down with years of customer abuse and repetitive labor that wears on the mind. Not to mention night shift employees, working alone in the store for hours on end, building strong mental shackles into the framework of their minds. The injected workforce has followed the track of a Sandwich Artist and has been promoted to Shift Supervisors, or even regular Supervisors in other stores, making as much as 9.75 an hour before tax. James, however, didn't believe this to be more than an urban legend started by the convict workforce.\n\n\"There's no way I'm working here.\" Eli crossed his arms. \n\n\"You can still take the bullet.\" James dryly responded.\n\n\"Honestly I'm not sure which is worse.\" \n\n\"Well you've got the rest of your life to find out.\" James extended his arm in front of him while looking at Eli, signalling to head for the door. Eli started for the door and with every step he could feel the vortex of the store sucking more of his rebellious spirit out of him. Just like a rabbit caught in a snare, he could run no more. This was his final destination. \n\nJames walked behind Eli towards the door, a ring of keys swinging around his finger. A second hint of a smile had crept it's way onto his face. This time he couldn't work it back down. \n\nEli opened the front door to the dark establishment and the heart-wrenching ding of the doorbell rung throughout the store. \n\n\"Welcome home.\" James said through his smirk. \"Let's begin your training.\"", " Jack walked into the cold, windowless, concrete room. This was it, he thought. He knew what he had done. All it took was a pistol and some deep-seeded hatred and just like that seven people were dead. He faced an electric chair that stood in front of him. A man in a black suit emerged from the shadows in the back of the room.\n\n\"Jack Witiker. Sentenced to Death Row on the account of manslaughter. Seven dead; weapon of murder: a pistol.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Jack said, \"I know what happened I was there, you know.\"\n\n\"Is this a joke to you?\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter what's a joke to me anymore. I'm about to be off this planet for good.\"\n\n\"I.. wouldn't be so sure.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You see, you killed seven civilians during an attempted bank robbery each from about 90 feet away. And each shot went straight into the brain. That's pretty impressive.\"\n\n\"Is this a joke?\"\n\n\"I thought jokes didn't matter to you.\"\n\n\"Just put me in the chair and flip the switch, I'm done with humanity.\"\n\n\"It's not that simple. You have a gift. You're a natural with a gun, and your hand-eye coordination is remarkable. We want you to join KM3, a secret service that works with and beneath the CIA. We operate in the shadows. You could join us if you choose to, and we can begin training.\"\n\n\"But I'm on death row.\"\n\n\"Oh please. We don't actually kill people here, we only send them here when they have a particular skill that our organization could utilize. Meaning you. We need more sharpshooters to carry out assassinations and other various mundane tasks. This is a once in a life time opportunity. We could turn you into a hero; turn your life in a complete 180. You could be a legend.\"\n\n\"This is amazing. Maybe I really can redeem myself as a good person. Are you serious?\"\n\n\"Nah I'm totally fucking with you i'm just the janitor the guard'll be in a little bit to kill you.\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] The sound of an ambulance usually means someone's day has just been ruined. Tell the story of an ambulance making someone's day.	[ "It's been 64 years. Sixty four long years and counting that I have played second fiddle. I've been neglected to the point of mockery - but, like every other substitute, I've been praying for my chance to come.\n\nMy chance finally arrived. And while I might be old and sickly, I'm hell-bent on grabbing it by the balls.\n\nI was awakened by the sound of the ambulances in the palace and a loud bang of hands on my door. I knew it has happened. I concealed my smile to the corner of my mouth before opening the door to hear them state the obvious. \"Your Majesty, Sir. Your Mother, The Queen, has just passed away\".\n\nThe whole of Britain would be in mourning. I would even shed a tear or two for the cameras to feed their appetite for humility. I would tell them how deeply we regret her demise and how much we'll miss her calm-headedness - but it would all be a lie because this is my chance and I'm not letting my sickly frame tell me otherwise.\n\n\nNB: It's my first time posting here. Couldn't help that my mind went here immediately I read the prompt. All characters herein depicted are fictional and I apologize if there are any semblances of them in reality. ☺ ", "I lost Sarah on a hiking trip two weeks ago. We had a search party looking for three days before we had to give it up. It has been utter hell since; family and friends giving me the same tired lines. \"I'm sorry.\" \"It must be so difficult.\" \"I'm here for you.\" I get it, okay?\n\nI had to go back to work to stop myself thinking of it and wallowing in self pity. So here I was, first day back and burying myself in work. I'd just finished dealing with Mrs. Cartwright when I heard an ambulance approach. The front doors burst open and a stretcher comes through...carrying Sarah. The EMTs stop as I stand dumbfounded in their way.\n\nHer eyes are open, and she gives me a weak smile.\n\nA tear wells in my eye and I smile right back. Everything is going to be okay again." ]	2
	[WP] In a Dystopian world - before they execute you - the last of the writers on the planet for writing(which is illegal), they honor your last wish to write one last write-up that will not be destroyed, but will be preserved for others to see and read.	[ "There was a world before this. \n\nA world where the sky was clear and not brown.\nA world where there were towns and cities, and the buildings reached for the skies.\nA world where you could eat and drink as you please without worry.\n\nBut more importantly, a world of knowledge. We could write, and play, and sing, and dance. It does not matter where you are, who you are, or what you are.\n\nI may fall to it, but you can thrive on it: knowledge is what caused our downfall, and now you have the ability to stop that from happening again.\n", "Look around. \n\nThe world is a barren wasteland of hopelessness and nothingness. Dreams seem to fade into but a trace of thought, and words seem to be reduced to nothing but a combination of letters. \n\nI write this now to remind you that words and dreams are more than that. \n\nThey exile the right of the people to speak up about what they believe, on what they could do or on what they could change, in fear that they might spark the fire in the hearts of the people. \n\nIn fear that one day the people would see the world as it is and do something to make it better. \n\nIn fear that one day the people will come to their senses and exile the corrupt minds of those who fear the true power of pen and paper. \n\nCome that they keep to their promise, I ask, are you satisfied of living in this world? I am, or, more appropriately, was not. I dream of living in a world in which everyone works as a community in order to create a world that is for the better. I display this dream in this piece of paper which consists of a connection of letters which convey meaning, given those who read it can understand it. \n\nI ask of nothing much, but for you to do what they wish would not happen had they evicted the right of the people to convey their messages as words of inspirations to the people.\n\nThis world is not perfect, although I've spent my whole life believing it is.\n\nI was a fool. \n\nI ask of you,\nDo not follow my example.\n" ]	2
	[WP] God is dying. Everybody else is hoping they got their name in the will.	[ "An excited mass of people stood as the Pope came out, a more than few men dressed well in suits by his side. I assumed, along with the rest of the people there, that he was a lawyer who was going to make it official. A large crowd of other clergymen came out. The crowd, beyond comprehension in actually counting stood and held their breathe collectively. Speaking of the crowd, it stretched on for miles. Miles and miles, with almost no end in sight. A scientist would later compare it to a teeming mass of insects. \n\nAfter a small pause in his gait, the pope spoke. \"I welcome you to this tremendous evening.. Tonight, I have received a message. God is telling us, all of us, a message.\" He was telling us information we already knew. Discord rippled through the crowd. Prior to the event, a large message had appeared in the stars. The astrophysicist who had noticed them while star gazing noted they were not there a few weeks prior. He raised his hands and the crowds settled. Believers, both new and old waited. \"God has communicated, to me exclusively, His will. We now know what will be given to us. If the message is to be believed, which I do believe.\" Some of the humans in the crowd groaned. The trip was a waste of time. The crowd's anger rippled through the crowd, as the packed people.. Well, they started to move. Pushing led to shoves. Shoves led to punching. Punching led to killing. Before more than a few drops of blood glistened on the ground, a new message, one more clear and apparent to us, appeared in the sky. Stars churned and shifted. It read, as many billions read it then,'Calm, my children. Your inheritance will be great. I have looked into your hearts and looked for my final gift unto you.' At this, hymns and prayers broke out. Those who had punched and shoved helped their opponents up. Even the Pope started to pray, offering his hands to the lawyers at his side. They accepted. A woman and a man on my right and left, respectively, took my hands. We begun to take part, swaying.\n\nThe night the Pope announced what we were to be given was a tremendous one. Parties were in the street. We had no idea what we were to be given, but it was supposed to be grand, as many thought. As it was, I did not go out that night. I stayed at home. I locked the door. I pulled the blinds on the window. I simply sat down, prayed once, and read. What came after this, whatever did, if our dreams were fulfilled, then.. We'd have to carve out whatever we wanted after that. Human wants never end. I accepted that.", "Vultures are dirty. If you've ever been on the side of a road, and seen a vulture, you can suddenly feel the dust under your nails and the dead skin falling off you and the mess of your hair all at once. I could feel the dirt on my elbows now and it wasn't pleasant.\n\nWell, I wanted to get myself nice and clean so I went out to New Mexico and found the dirtiest piece of desert and rolled around in it for a bit. It helped, a little.\n\nI should clarify about the vultures.\n\nAbout a month ago, I was in a convenience store in central Texas, across the way from one of those crippled churches with a massive digital billboard praising Jesus. I bought a Sprite. I don't like Sprite, but sometimes I get in a weird mood, philosophical and inspired to despair, and Sprite kinda helps.\n\nThere was an old CRT hanging above the counter, and a Fox News anchor, and on low volume she was reading out the headline:\n\nGod diagnosed with cancer.\n\nThe clerk rolled his eyes at me, then stared down his nose in a silent request for my hasty disappearance.\n\nOutside--it was unusually cloudy this summer--I watched as, across the highway, hundreds of people flocked to the derelict steeple, bearing crosses on their necks and shoulders and feet and probably sewed into their underpants, too. As I watched, a man bumped into me. It was a group of newly-converted Jews.\n\nOnly one month before that, God had called down his existence to us, and surprisingly, nothing happened. No, I mean it. You'd expect fire and brimstone. Nope: it was pretty quiet. There was an influx of Christians, Muslims, and Jews, but most people just kept on living.\n\nThen, a week ago, He parted the clouds and told us all that He was dying. So much for the omnipotence. Come all ye mighty, and fight for my inheritance. Somewhere, Netanyahu was chuckling.\n\nSo anyway, I drank my Sprite, filled up the tank, and drove to New Mexico. There was a nasty feeling to it all and I didn't want to watch as all of those people vied for God's favor. I didn't want any inheritance; that sounded like work.\n\nI'd filled up the trunk with Shiner, and I popped one open. At some point I realized the ground gets hot in New Mexico, and I sat on my tailgate. It was still cloudy. The sky was always grey, these days. I wondered if that's what being a Brit felt like.\n\n\"Not feeling pious?\" a voice called out. I looked up; a few rays of sun beamed out from the clouds, and the grey began to break up into blue. I took another swig.\n\n\"Hard to have faith in something undeniable, I guess,\" I answered. God chuckled.\n\n\"Throw Me one,\" the Deity said. I spent a moment figuring out how that worked, then chucked a cold one at the sky.\n\nIt fell back to the ground in an unceremonious splatter. Yahweh was uproarious with laughter.\n\n\"Always wanted to try that one,\" He said.\n\n\"There's more if You come down.\"\n\n\"Don't mind if I do.\"\n\n\"Where's the gang?\" I asked, as a be-toga-ed, Middle-Eastern man hopped up beside me.\n\n\"Who, Moses? He's no fun. Yelling a lot at the followers. Muhammad's swamped with half the world and Jesus with the other.\"\n\nI clinked bottles with Him.\n\n\"Why aren't You working, then?\" I asked.\n\nHe shot me a glare.\n\n\"What's the point of sanctifying these guys if I don't get to sit back with a beer now and then?\"\n\nThen He started laughing again. The sun was sinking on the horizon, now. We sat and sipped and watched it dip.\n\n\"This isn't some fancy, spiritual moment where I share a beer with You and You give me Israel, is it?\" I asked, after a while.\n\n\"Nah,\" he said. \"This is just the sunset. Throw me another.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are randomly selected to take a series of tests in order to save the human race. But when you are given the final test, you refuse to complete it.	[ "An ominous hum encompassed the small yet warmly lit room. A holographic screen displayed symbols unfamiliar to most humans.\n\n\"I just won't.\"\n\nA scoff sharply replied from the levitating orb encased by its untouched metal. \"What could you possibly mean? You are one question away. Your own life, your own race - you 'just won't'? \"\n\n\"That is correct.\"\n\nEven without an eyelid, you could have sworn the adjudicator blinked in surprise. Floating aimlessly around the room, he produced a question, \"Would you like to tell me why?\"\n\n\"Is this part of the test?\"\n\n\"You know it is.\"\n\n\"We weren't meant to pass a test. We weren't designed to meet a quota, no one is. No form of life.\"\n\n\"Our consequence of failure is death.\"\n\n\"That isn't the point.\"\n\nThe orb made his way to the screen to observe the symbols himself. It must have been thousands of years since he took time to acknowledge any of these questions. \"Explain more, child.\"\n\n\"There is no explanation!\" I began yelling, fatigued by the hours of testing. \"I refuse to answer. It is a question I can, but will not answer.\"\n\nPondering on the young species' thoughts, the adjudicator sent commands for the door to open. A soft light glowed, indicating the rite of passage. \"I am required to allow your kind to live.\"\n\nAnd then perhaps the only genuine words from the machine, \"I fear for what it is you bring.\"\n\nI promptly made for the exit and shuddered thinking about the question, baffled at what any other person might attempt for an answer. Knowing there was no right answer.\n\nQuestion 2771) Does your species deserve to live?\n\nEdit: formatting.\n\n", "\"Just fucking do it!\", screamed the Lieutenant.\n\nUp until this point I passed every test, no problem. This made me sick though. I'm supposed to save humanity, but they want me to throw my own humanity aside to do so.\n\nI passed every psychological test, every physical, every single damn emotional test just to make sure that I was stable. I gave up my dream of being a doctor for this! The one thing I wanted to be since I saw how much effort doctors put into helping people.\n\nOnce they finally decided that I was perfectly fine, they began challenging my own ideals. They decided, that the only way for me to save everybody was for me to throw away my own idea of what was good or bad. They made me believe that the end justified the means.\n\nI am not proud of who I have become. The only reason I agreed to do what I've done is to save everybody. I sacrificed who I am to save everybody else. As Spock said, \"Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.\"\n\nNow though, I don't care. I have no needs anymore, I'm not even a damn person. The only reason I still walk is because they make me do so. I am sure that they will no longer make me walk soon though, and instead of fearing it, I eagerly await it.\n\nI refused to kill my family. They tried to relinquish the last thing that I held onto, and I can gladly say I refused. When I held the gun to my mother's crying face, I refused. I finally said no.\n\nI am sorry, I have held onto my own humanity, but doomed the rest of it." ]	2
	[WP] When songs and poems are written, they are imbued with the tangible emotions that the authors experienced while writing, that the readers feel, though they fade with time. As an archaeologist, you come across an ancient verse that makes you shudder.	[ "Here is truth. We gave our future away, with no chance to redeem. As when the Gods arrived, on behalf our father spoke. They saw him as the father of all tribes, and offered all the knowledge that they had, in scribe untouched by hand. An offer to join a larger family and to never have to need. No! Our father said. This shall not be. My children and my children's children will have need! The promise of another family when I am father to this one here! As you leave and sail your ship to whatever groundless place you come from, remember that no future family can be sought by scribe on stone or wisdom that cannot be dealt. Our kindly father said all this in no uncertain terms, and now I sit here hungry writing this in stone.\n\nRichard stared at his translation, his neck starting to prickle as it started to dawn on him. His son will never move out.\n\n\n\n\nI have never written anything in my life so be as rough as you like.\n", "The modern man's western culture had fallen into a pit of ciclical popular music which would use refrains and melodies from past \"hits\", repackage those elements and sell it as new to an unexpecting youth. From the basic themes of sexuality and broken social ties, a song found in a time capsule from the twenty-first century prompted an inkling of an ice cube rolling down my spine as I read, \"baby, baby oooh/ I thought you'd always be mine (mine)\". What had the homo sapiens sapiens done to itself? This was one of the beginnings to the Great Fall." ]	2
Not sure of the phrase I'm looking for but something that's either depending on the readers interpretation.	[WP] A children's story or rhyme that could be read as light and playful or dark and creepy.	[ "There was once a penguin named Penguin, \n\nWho dreamed of soaring the skies. \n\nHe constantly flapped his flippers, but no matter how much he did,\n\nHe still couldn't soar the skies. \n\nBut then one day, an idea struck him,\n\nSo marvelous, he thought, that it couldn't possibly fail. \n\nSo there Penguin was, perched on the highest cliff, \n\nGetting ready to soar the skies. \n\nDown below, the waters smashed against the crags. \n\nBut that didn't scare Penguin, though, \n\nAs this time, he knows he can soar the skies. \n\nSo there he goes, dropped like a rock, \n\nInto the monstrous waters below. \n\nBut then, a miracle happen! \n\nHe's soaring the skies! \n\nHe couldn't believe it! \n\nHe flapped his flippers to give him a boost, \n\nAnd there he goes, \n\nPlaying with his newfound ability. \n\nThe next day he woke, all battered up.\n\nBut that didn't stop him.\n\nHe took his medicine and took a running start. \n\nOnce again he soared the skies! \n\nThe moral of the story, kids: always take your medicine. \n", "From your bed you watch the door \none room down your father snores. \nWait just long enough to see \nsomething move, it's not mummy. \nOnce a year he walks on past \nslow he goes, never fast. \nYou know for sure you've been good this year, \nso for your door you do not fear. \nThe sound of jingling bells goes by \nthe rattling noise and following flies \nOne more year begins tonight \nof being good so when the light \nby your door it does go dim \nyou have nothing to fear of him \ninstead you close your eyes to hear \nyour clock at bedside close and near \nyou fall asleep as it does tick \ngone already is St. Nick " ]	2
	[WP] take your average day to day routines and write them as though they are the most epic adventure ever written!	[ "My job is never done. \n\nA shrill cry snapped me out of a dream-like daze. My heart pounding furiously, a wave of emotions caused my eyes to swell. Fear. Fear like I'd never experienced. In all my years, I never feared for someone else's life, for it was always out of my control. But now, it was all up to me. My willpower, my devotion, my strength, it all determined whether this life would continue on, or die in an instant. \n\nDeath may be strong, but the love of a mother is stronger. \n\nReleasing myself of the warm shelter I used to cover myself in, I found my legs weak and limp. \"Get up.\" I commanded myself, demanded of myself, to rise. And so it was. Finding my footing on soft flooring, it was only a matter of time before my strength would subside and I would collapse once more. Here in the darkness, my sore eyes could not see beyond the scope of my hand before my face. Without a pair of glasses to aid me, I navigated towards the screams purely by memory alone. \n\nAnd yet, it was not enough. Death mocked me as my weak footing met the sharp daggers of ice on the tiled ground. I lost my footing, jabbing my toe into the corner of the door frame. It was a wound I suffered many a time, nonetheless it struck pain up my spine and caused my mouth to cringe. But my pain was nothing compared to her's. \n\nLike a pathetic drunkard stumbling into the streets, I made my way to the chamber of innocence, not far from my own. The crying, it somehow brought my mind and body in order, even in my tired state. I could see only darkness, but then the light came when she turned to me. A light emitting from the corner outlet of her room showed shadows of stars on the ceiling. She gazed upon them and me: her warrior. \n\nMy arms were firm, embracing the bundle of frail innocence, and hoisting her to my chest. Her tears ran down my night gown and tickled my legs, but I would not laugh as not to offend her. The life of only four months repelled Death and welcomed me. Her cries for help were replaced in soothing snores as I sung the song passed down from generations. After a ballad of twinkling stars and curious wonderment, Death slunk into the darkness and the innocent life was saved. \n\nHer crib welcomed her back in the sunken spot where her body laid most comfortably. Light was already beginning to shine through her window and greet the both of us together. It was time for a celebratory feast. \n\nWith the man of the house gone on his raiding quest to acquire loot to keep the home going, it was up to the warrior of the home to provide. \n\n---------\n\nThe chilled hen eggs, the sloshing milk, the roaring oven, a pan lathered in grease, it all awaited me. But it was not a warm welcome, oh no it never was. \n\nA vicious beating the eggs received this morning, with me dousing their wounds with salt before frying their insides on an awaiting skillet. The milk refused my gestures, perhaps it was my weak hand or my tired blind eyes, but it managed to slip away and douse my feet instead. Quick to anger, I found myself letting out a curse to the heavens and pleading with the devil himself to \"cut me a break\" as it were. \n\nAdorning my glasses, the world was clear now, vigilant, and ready to be conquered once more. This time, breakfast was no match for me. \n\nThe meal was set, the man of the fort returned and spoke long tales of battle in the cruel outside world. The roaring of mechanical monsters all through the night left his head pounding. The idiotic laughter of his fellow raid members drove him to insanity. But once home, he was not the leader of the raid, he was not the boss screaming out orders. He was under the loving care of the warrior. \n\nWith a kiss to his forehead, I sent him to rest, but not before allowing him to stop and bask in the glow of the innocent life he helped bring into this world participating in her games. He held my waist and watched her chew viciously on stuffed animals, laughing at how one day her innocent life would be that of a warrior like myself. I was in no rush for that. \n\n---------\n\nOur fort was kept safe and secure by the warrior of the house. Filth was banished to the bin. Discarded and soiled clothing was tossed in their baskets for further cleaning. It could not be avoided, working the complex machine of washing. I despised it, less so than participating in the public cleaning down the street, but as the days went on we grew to compromise. The roaring and sloshing sounds it made I grew to simply tune out. However the act of stubbing my tired feet on its corners was growing ever more annoying. \n\n-----------\n\nHer cries again. \"What now?\" My book was placed face down, the calling of a warrior was now answered. From the hall I followed the sound, the very familiar sound of the innocent life. Death followed me, whispering in my ear, \"She's sick. It's your fault she's crying. You're unfit to guard her. What if she has fallen? Broken a leg? Who will they blame? You! You are to blame!\"\n\nThese fears, these horrible fears, clouded my judgement. I found myself panicking, not thinking clearly, as I approached the crib keeping her safe at play. Her tear filled eyes gazed up to me, holding tightly to the corner of cloth from her blanket. Before I could ask, and before Death could fill my head with more concerns, she released a sound of relief and joy to me. \n\n\"Did you poop?\" I questioned as the redness in her face returned to a soft lively pink. Constipation, of course, but before I could gloat to Death he was already gone, as if he'd never been there to begin with. With a held breath and puffed cheeks, I took the rather ripe innocent life to the changing station to be relieved of her dooty.\n\n----------\n\nBetween the piling chores and filthy diaper changes, time was moving ever so constantly. No matter how much I pleaded with the gods above for a few extra minutes of shower time, of reading time, of sleep, time continued without hesitation. The man of the house was awake at night, a leader of the night owl raiders who ruled the graveyard shift, holding his hand out for his caffeinated beverage. \n\nPiping hot as always, I held out an insulated thermos of heated caffeine with a packed sack of lunch befitting such a powerful raider. His heavy footsteps grew quiet when approaching the room of innocence. A soft kiss was placed upon the sleeping one's head and then one on my own. \n\n\"See you in the morning.\" He said, as he always did, followed by a heartfelt, \"Love you.\" In return I would lock the fort and assure protection of our innocent one while he was away. \n\nThe sirens sang their lullaby and pulled me into the cool ocean of my sleeping chambers. It was dark, and now blinded with my glasses resting on my nightstand, I shut my tired eyes closed. \n\nFor a moment, perhaps an hour, life was peaceful at the fort. \n\nAnd just like that, her crying began again. Death waited at the side of my bed, whispering my greatest fears and self doubts as I yanked myself out of bed once more. \n\nAs my warrior mother had always said to me:\n\nA mother's job is never done. \n\n-----\n\nCan read more of my stories located at /r/StoriesOfShortNature if you would like to. Feel free to comment on them as well :)", "The moment has arrived. And though I've done it a thousand times before, I know deep within my soul, that today is going to be something to tell the grandchildren about. \nI begin my trek. With tremendous effort and an unshakeable resolve, I hurl my body towards the edge of the bed. Every sinew, every muscle straining, still sore from my shift in the ER the night before. Sweat dampens my brow, but I shall not be deterred. \nI now stand at the doorway of my darkened bedroom, and peer uneasily down the hallway. Golden sunlight crosses the length of the hallway in broken rays. The carpet still damp beneath my bare feet from a much needed shampooing yesterday. It feels clean and crisp. It feels like freedom. \nI breathe in the morning air, my lungs burning from the pack of cigarettes I chowed down during the ER hellshift. Childs play compared to the task at hand. I chuckle. \nSuddenly, there is a motion at the end of the hallway. I quietly, stealthily, retreat ever so slightly into the concealing shadows of my bed lair. I must be careful. I must be quiet. Else all will be ruined.\nBut alas, I have been seen.\nThe first of the hellbeasts peeks around the corner. 23 lbs of lean, mean, Miniature Schnauzer, beggin strips eating machine stares at me for the slightest of seconds, before the realization hits us both. As he stares at me I know that he knows that I am awake. \nHis thunderous bark echoes throughout the once calm domicile, and then the race is on. His shouts of warning will have no doubt aroused the other three sleeping monsters, and my window of opportunity is rapidly slipping away.\nI propel myself into the hall! There is no turning back now, I must make haste!\nAs I race down the hallway, narrowly avoiding the landmines of squeaky toys and chewed up socks, the second of the hellbeasts lurches for me from another doorway! The sneaky bastard thinks he has me. But not today. This one, bigger than the last, 56 pounds of Siberian Husky madness, is headed straight for me. But at the last moment, I leap into the air, far above his wagging bush tail, and his loud howls and lolling tongue disappear behind me.\nI laugh. Loud and triumphant for all to hear! But my victory is short lived. \nAs I round the perilous corner of the kitchen, I am halted by the vicious American Short Hair Tabby, lazily sharpening his claws on the kitchen table. His terrifying tiger purr echoes through my very soul. I have only seconds to make it to the pantry before he paralyzes me with his lovey kitty head butt. I immediately change my approach. I drop my gaze to the floor, and skirt quickly, but quietly around the table. Everyone knows you cannot make eye contact or they may pounce.\nFinally, I see my goal in sight. The blessed pantry door. And beyond that? The sacred kibble. I have won. I am almost there. There will be no spilling of the kibble today foul beasts! No violent tongue lashing of mom today!\nAnd then it happens. I was a fool to have forgotten that one beast yet remained. \nAnd just like that she appears. My nemesis. My siren. Emma.\nShe makes no move to attack me. No. She is too wise for that. She employs much more sinister traps.\nTwo pounds of curly black teacup poodle cuteness stand between me and my goal. And like that I am lost in her precious begging eyes and her teensy poodle baby bark. And though I struggle to free myself from her gaze, I know that she has won.\nThe beasts fall upon me and I struggle to free myself from the excessive tail wagging, licking, and barking. \nAs I struggle to pour the kibble, stumbling over fur and paws, and jumping, and barking, I vow that tomorrow, yes tomorrow, I will succeed.", "The day begins with me opening my eyes. I hear a voice calling and smell the smell of a delicious smell. But before I can go see what this miraculous smell I must defeat the most dangerous challenge of all, climbing down the stairs of my bed to the floor!\n I take one step down to the ladder feeling it's rough exterior. I take another step making sure not to slip because if I do I would plummet to a horrifying demise of death and despair on the floor of my room. As I reach the floor I am filled with accomplishment and happiness. \nFinished with concurring the enemy I quickly race to the smell assuming it's food so the pigs in the home I stay in don't eat it first. I look at the food as the delicious miraculous chocolate chip waffles are served to me by my mother. My mouth is watering at the sight of this delicacy. I dig in and I am immediately given a taste sensation that is beyond comprehension. \nFinished with my meal I get my clothes on and get in my black, slick, and very quick mobile device known as a car and wait for my mother to drive me to my learning area. I battle with the tiny monster known as my little sister while my mom tries to keep us on the road but eventually the battle comes to a close and I get to the car area of my school.\nI meet my companions and talk about very serious subjects such as Politics, Crime and the Bee Movie. As breakfast winds down I make a couple more bee puns and then walk to the Science Class. \nSmack Dap in front of me is thrown a test. My eyes widen and see 20 questions. Fiercely I begin circling the correct letters as my brain becomes a machine. I turn in the test right before a line for the turn in area starts and my grade is a ... a ... C! \nThe bell rings and I am not happy but not disappointing. I walk to civics and here discussions on America. I think back on Merica and think of how awesome we are. Then I hear that we need to build a wall. Trump is mentioned then Hilary as I am bombarded by politics until the time block is over.\nBeing tired of the day I walk slowly towards the Chorus Room. We warm up as our voices get lower and lower. In the corner there are two guys sitting picking their noses and I wonder to myself why they even joined the class. For some reason with a very fearful and stern look the tall man walks out the door and no one cares for some reason. Then I hear the bell minutes later.\nWalking to lunch I hear conversations and I pass by someone picking a fight with someone else. The fight looks intense but I need lunch. I ditch the battle heading towards my lunch table where I talk about The Bee Movie with my friends until I go get lunch. I taste the sandwich given to me then cough it out. It was POISON! I choke but no answer but eventually I survive.\nAs I walk to math I cry on the insides thinking about the demonic treacherous hell that math is as I walk in approached by a demon of a math problem. I stare at the demon and take out my sword (pencil). But as I pull out my sword it has been snapped in half. I walk up to my teacher needing help to vanquish this demon and my life is saved when I am given duck tape. I draw my blade and take stabs but it is ineffective. I can not overcome this horrifying demon. Defeated I am forced to endure Hell as I am explained how to properly kill these demons.\nAs the class finally ends I have a sigh of relief, that is until I realize today is Sex Ed. Whimpering in my boots I walk in the room I would normally have physical education and I see a nurse. As class begins words start getting thrown out that make everyone laugh that is until the true evil of this world is released. Immediately everyone goes blind as they show pictures of the lower half of the male body. 4 Men were sent home sick, 1 Man was sent to the principles for laughing and 23 students were scared for life.\nI walk to the angel of the bunch otherwise known as Language Arts. My life is spared by my teacher and everything goes easy fun and nice. Until the bell rings that is.\nI immediately rush out trying to beat the stampede of middle school students but alas I am trampled and I slowly try to walk to the crossing guard at the outside of the school. I begin my 1 and a half mile walk home in silence no sounds. I walk alone then I hear a rustle in the bushes. There it is again. Then bam! Nothing happens. I finally get home after a half hour of agony and plop myself on the couch.\nI watch YouTube, look through websites and play The Binding Of Isaac Rebirth until I take a small break from the gateway of this virtual world and It is 10 PM. I walk to my room after grabbing an edible peace of food from my fridge and climb up the treacherous stairs to my bed and go to sleep waiting for the next day." ]	3
	[WP] The world you live in is in black and white... Until you meet your soulmate, and everything gradually begins to gain color.	[ "I fall in love hard and fast. A small smile from a stranger, a door being opened, a little love heart written above my name on my coffee order. I read stories of magnificent 'colour'. Of flowers not only being loved for the smells or the shapes or the texture but for the tones they lovingly share with us. I read of 'sunsets' and 'sunrises', a sky that changes day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. Each moment that I fall in love with a stranger from a quick glance or our fingers brushing past gently, I wonder if this will be it? Will my dark, two-toned existence finally, be at an end? \nI see laughter in people that MUST be seeing this 'colour'. Something is different about them. 'A polite society does not talk about it'. We are told to not talk about it from the moment we learn of the possibility of a change in how we see. Whispers in the school yard spoke of magic potions, journeys to sacred mountains and dragon slayings. To us as children, it was only a story along with Cinderella and The a Three Little Pigs. I asked my mum one day if she had the change, 'a polite society does not talk about it.' I only learned about the soulmate connection by reading the books 'we are not to speak of'. Regular burnings of the books are a source of pride for our society. We must keep being polite. \nLooking down at my coffee cup, a little heart drawn above the 'i' of my name, I push the gate open to my house and hear it clink shut. Walking over to the poinciana tree I sit. My favourite place. Running my fingers through the flowers growing in through the grass, I look up. A skinny, dirty, ancient looking dog is pushing at the iron barred gate I just closed. We lock eyes. Looking down again at the flowers, I can only describe a blurriness forming. I rub my eyes, the flowers are becoming less 'Gray', I look up at the morning sun, it is becoming the same colour as the flowers, but different to the grass. I want to yell to my mum or to anyone! But we must be polite. \n\n* This is my very first time!*", "\"Evolution is a lie! Only GOD is responsible for humanity! You know!\"\n\nEllis looked down at his notes and made a small tick next to the countless others, then looked back up at Mr. Dawson. If he stared hard enough, maybe it would make the class go by faster.\n\n\"Now, class, I know there's been some incidents in the news from LA lately -\"\n\nTommy kicked Ellis's chair. \n\n\"- And, you know, it's important we understand what's going on. After that whole debacle with Zimmerman -\"\n\nAnother tick. Tommy kicked Ellis's chair again. Ellis ignored him.\n\n\"- I want all of you to remember the Lord's teachings.\"\n\nA bell rang in the hallway. It sounded almost exactly like a high school bell would, just like it does in the movies. Except, not really. It was too high-pitched.\n\nMr. Dawson continued shouting Bible verses as the room erupted into a loud scramble. Ellis turned to Tommy with a grin on his face. \"What'd you get? If you didn't fall asleep in class, maybe we could get an accurate average for once.\"\n\nTommy showed Ellis his notes, where a scrawly \"57\" was circled at the top. Fist bumps and cheers ensued between the pair. Boys filing out of the room chuckled; the girls shook their heads and tutted. \n\n\"C'mon, you two,\" said one of the primly dressed girls. \"Let's get to history. I just want this day without any of your trouble before the purity ball.\" Her friends nodded in agreement, smoothing their clothes after sitting for so long.\n\n\"Aww, Jenny,\" Ellis stuck his bottom lip out. \"We were just passing the time. Are you still coming to the meeting on Friday?\"\n\nAnother girl chimed in as the group began battling their way through the crowded halls. \"You mean for the mission in Africa?\" \n\n\"Yeah. Tommy and I were planning on signing up. Right, man?\" Ellis elbowed Tommy in the ribs, who manages to cough out a noise of agreement. \"Gotta spread the word and all that. And maybe meet some hot chicks along the way.\"\n\nJenny gave Ellis the side-eye as she squeezed past a group of jocks discussing the football game. \"Do you take anything seriously? We're trying to help those poor impoverished people! This is serious stuff, not everyone has been blessed with the knowledge of God's word.\" \n\nTommy spoke up. \"He's just playing. We'll be there and be good.\"\n\nJenny huffed and sauntered off to a seat at the front of the classroom. As the boys sat in the back, Ellis muttered to Tommy, \"Dude, you're so boring.\"\n\n\"Dude*, life is boring. I'm just trying to get in with the best candidate for my wife in this town. Maybe you should start doing the same.\"\n\nEllis rolled his eyes. \"Isn't there more to life than that?\"\n\nA knock came to the classroom door, where the principal peeked in. Their history teacher stopped shuffling her notes and waved the principal in. \"Class, we have an important announcement today.\"\n\nThe pudgy, slightly red and sweaty principal waddled into the room. The principal always had some event to push on them about upcoming church events. Ellis fidgeted with a pencil. He heard enough of this stuff at home.\n\nThe principal took a deep breath and wiped his hands on his pants. \"Good morning, folks. We've got a new student today -\"\n\nIn walked: Her.\n\n\"- She's a foreign exchange student from Lebanon -\"\n\nEllis's pencil dropped to the floor.\n\n\"- And she'll be staying with us until this year's end.\"\n\nThe room was quiet as the students evaluated her, suddenly aware of their whiteness. She proudly looked forward, unfazed and prepared for the whispers that would inevitably follow. Her eyes eventually met Ellis's.\n\nAnd everything changed." ]	2
	[WP] A boy stands in front of a mirror. Monologue it.	[ "I hate mirrors. Its ok if I'm cleaning my teeth or something, I can just look at my teeth then. But when I have to look at myself in the mirror, or god forbid when I come across one unexpectedly and see myself unposed... Jesus. Nothing kills my good mood quite like seeing myself.\n\nShop windows are the worst. Here I am, walking along, going about my day when all of a sudden I see fucking Igor staring back at me, with a stupid face a chubby cheeks and crappy posture and ugly gut. I've actually gone from feeling good and confident to going straight home from one of these once. I had to train myself to ignore windows, look the other way instead. No one really gets it when I try to explain anyway, so ignoring it is the best. What's the phrase, \"conceal, don't feel?\"\n\nUntil... until Snapchat. You'd think Snapchat would be worse. You ALWAYS turn it on when you're looking down, the wide angle lens doesn't portray your features right... and yet, Snapchat is the reason I'm ok with looking at myself now. Somehow, taking stupid selfies and putting stupid filters on them made me ok with looking at myself, and made me think that, really, I'm normal.\n\nSo as much as I still hate mirrors (especially surprise reflective surfaces), now I can stand in one and hate myself a little bit less. All thanks to a stupid app designed for sexting.", "I stood there, stripped to my very being. Looking at my face, I followed the natural curve of my lips, slightly tweaked at the edges. How could the most expressive part of my body create the exact opposite of how I was actually feeling? No matter how long a person looked at me, they would never understand the suffering inside. The absolute war I fought inside myself just to get out of bed everyday. To approach a schoolyard where I consciously knew pain was in store for me. To allow myself to dream of a future that would never be. To be around a group of people, to smile, and for them to never know. To never care. To feel so out of place, knowing that the spirit that you had would be whipped out of you when you returned to what they called home. Picture day was tomorrow. Maybe then they would see the standstill, moment of history, caught in my eyes. Maybe then they would see. Smile, for me, won't you? Dammit, smile. Smile so big that they can see. See me. See me. SEE ME!" ]	2
	[WP] Why is six afraid of seven?	[ "As they touched down on the halfway crumbled landing pad outside, I vaulted the empty window frame and sprinted toward them. \"Go, go, go!\" I yelled, \"nobody else is coming, and we're not safe waiting here!\"\n\nTwenty four minutes and two seconds later, I'm seated in front of Zero for questioning. \"What happened to the other agents back there? Three other agents went in with you, Seven, Eight, and Nine,\" he asked, staring into my eyes with suspicion strong enough to make me believe he'd kill me if I lied, which he likely would.\n\n\"...Seven lost his mind.\" I replied quietly.\n\n\"Seven did what, exactly?\" He questioned me further, ignoring my discomfort.\n\n\"He... he tried to shoot himself at first, and he was bleeding a lot, but when Eight and Nine got to him first, trying to help, he stood up faster than I thought possible and grabbed them by the throats...\" I trailed off, trying to make it obvious that the situation got no better, and that I wanted to forget it all.\n\nBut, of course Zero persisted. \"What. Happened. Next?\" He asked, grinding his teeth slightly.\n\n\"He slammed them both into a wall. He pinned Nine to it with his right elbow as he released Eight and shot him three times in the head as he tried to run. He turned to look for me before giving up, I guess he found the other two to be bigger threats. I was watching from the broken ceiling tiles.\"\n\n\"How... Eight died, yes? And Seven ignored his dead body?\" Zero leaned back in his chair in thought.\n\n\"Yes, that's right. Afterwards, Seven used his handcuffs to restrain Nine, and he mostly dragged her toward the stairs, heading for the roof. That's when I made a run for the landing pad.\"\n\n\"Six, you do realize there was another helicopter, right? On top of the building so Seven could pilot you away if the mission went wrong? He's out there somewhere, and he's got a hostage.\"\n\n\"Where might they have gone?\"\n\n\"I have to idea. When he tried to shoot himself, that must've been him destroying the regulating device we put in him and... Nine.\" Zero's expression turned to true fear very quickly.\n\n\"What... What does that mean?\"\n\n\"That device was meant to keep them more peaceful, so they couldn't utilize their full enhanced reflexes and strength and such. They were too dangerous and unpredictable, unlike you, I suppose.\"\n\n\"And now... Now he's probably disabled her chip and now they're out there somewhere, ready to kill the rest of us?\"\n\n\"Exactly. God, we need to... What do we do?\" Zero stopped his pacing and staring out his small office's window to turn towards me. He looks behind me and stops dead still.\n\nI turn around in my seat and see him standing there, Seven.\n\n\n\n(Alright, I really enjoyed making this, and might be up for a part two if anyone wants it!)", "That cannibalistic Number. That fiendish digit. That monster that hides In the night. So close to me, always lurking by my side. Alas My poor friend Nine, gone to soon from this world.\n\nI still hear his screams in the night, Or is that eight? is seven torturing me? I fear my time approaches, or am I safe? perhaps only larger numbers are fitting sport? proving that he is better than any number that dare be higher than him?\n\nI hear him. he's close. so close to me. I can smell the blood on his breath. My eyes are closed, and I feel the sharp blade of his top pierce my rounded bely. alas. Nothing can stop his endless hunger. I can only hope I die before he begins to feast.\n\nPeople heed My warning. I am six, and I fear seven. for Seven ate nine.\n\nwhy are you laughing?\n\n(something came up and I had to cut it short. may re-do this one.)", "\"Your honor, I'd like to draw attention to exhibit 10.\" \n\n\"Objection, your honor. There is no exhibit 10!\"\n\n\"On the contrary, your honor. Earlier in the trial the prosecution brought in 10 as a witness to the crime. But I'd like to draw to the Jury's attention that 10 was next in line the entire time. If 7 really did eat 9, as we're all lead to believe, why did 10 do nothing? Why didn't 10 call CMXI?\"\n\n\"Your honor, 10, being horrified that 7 8 9, chose to do nothing at the time because 10 feared facing the same fate. Therefore, I would argue that 10 is just as afraid of 7 as 6 is. This line of questioning is ridiculous, your honor. 7 is still the prime suspect!\"" ]	3
	[WP] A terminally ill patient meets an immortal, both of whom resent one another for their condition.	[ "The wanderer say in the room, his finger tapping the edge of his chair as he gazed out the window. \n\"Yknow,\" he murmured \"your the lucky one.\"\nWith his other hand he began to chew his nails, yet his gaze never left the outside world. The other figure in the room, a bald man about the age of 20 lay crippled in a hospital bed, radiation was immenent throughout his body, death was near. \"Oh yea?\" The other man, Gary, replied\n\"How so?\" \nAs he said this he arched his eyebrow, giving an inquisitive look\n\"Well...\" The chair man said \"your moving on, finally you'll know the answer...\"\n\"Tha answer!\" Gary interrupted, \"I'm in so much pain I can't even move, fuck the answer!\"\n\"Haha, you don't understand do you?\" The man replied, his gaze pitiful, but hinted with jealousy \"life was never about life, the true game was all in the end.... The greatest mind of each generation pondered the question, what lies beyond, and I watched each one of them struggle, only to get the answer in the end, but alas I never will, I'm bound to the world of men, I'll never go to the world of the gods\"\n\" world of the gods my ass!\" Gary retorted \" I'm going to die, do you understand that!? You really believe that shit, gods, huh you think a man of your nature would know, what if I die and I fall into a darkness so eternal it can only be matched by you\"\n\"Well then I'd be envious, eternal peace would be a blessing, I'm damned in the world of the living, just as your dying now, the world, the universe even will soon follow, but I'll still be here, still alive\"\n\"Pfft, don't you get it, I'll be gone, I'll be forgotten, my mark on this world will be as meaningless as a million years to you, I'll be an ant to an infinitely giant God\"\n\"And I'll still be here, never knowing what could be,\" the man in the chair followed the flight of a bird with his eyes, but his gaze never went to the inside of the room\n\"Don't you know, knowledge is power, and I'll never know the greatest question?\"\n\"Yea\" Gary chuckled \"and I'll be dead, you know what fuck you, here I am literally about to be extinguished from the finite existence I get, the one astronomically small chance I get to live and i wasted it, but you.... Oh you get all the time you want, don't you get it, your fucking eternal!\"\n\"But..... Eternity is a long time\"", "He laid back in the hospital chair, staring stonily at the ceiling.\n\nThe nurse and doctor kept their expressions tight. \"I'm sorry sir... the operation was a failure. We've tried... everything. Nothing works. It's best you just accept it and try to find a way to cope.\"\n\nTears filled his eyes and he blinked, wiping them away. \"Thank you... doctor. I tried for so long but I should have known it was impossible. There's truly no hope.\"\n\nThe doctor shook his head slowly. \"I'll leave you alone here. Nurse, come along. Let's leave him be.\"\n\nThe doctor and nurse left the man alone. His thoughts blurred and raced. It had taken so many treatments, so many tests, and in the end it yielded nothing. There was no hope for his condition.\n\n\"What are you so sad about?\" asked a voice from the other side of the room. He looked up. The voice belonged to a teen girl, probably no older than twenty. \"What are you in for?\"\n\n\"Ah... it's nothing.\" lamented the man. \"There's no cure for my condition. They've tried everything. _I've_ tried everything.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but what are you suffering from? It doesn't look like cancer. Your body looks healthy. You even have some muscle mass so it can't be leukemia. What's your condition?\"\n\n\"My condition...\" the man sighed... \"I have tried to die for so many years. I've been stabbed, decapitated, burned alive at the stake, buried alive, and even with this new modern medicine science can't find a cure for my condition. I'm doomed to live this way for the rest of my life. Which is probably eternity.\"\n\n\"What?!\" her eyes narrowed. \"You mean you're crying because... you can't die? What a joke! That kind of thing can't exist!\"\n\n\"It's no joke.\" he murmured, staring at the cold tile floor as he sat forward. \"I've tried everything. We even tried blasting my body with exotic particles. Nothing works.\"\n\n\"No, damnit! I mean being immortal! You mean to tell me you have the ability to live forever, achieve all your wildest hopes and dreams, and you're complaining? I have news for you, sir, I'm terminally ill. I'm going to die before I'm 25 and probably sooner than that. I never got to ask out the guy I liked. I never got to become a great pianist, and I'll never get to have children and watch them grow up. And you're complaining that you can live all you want?! If there is a god, he delights in tormenting me!\"\n\n\"A god... yes, he is truly a villain.\" the man clutched his chest. \"You speak of dreams. What good are dreams when you have nobody to share them with? You speak of children. What good are children when you'll outlive their furthest descendants? You have the beauty of never having to see civilizations rise and fall, never watching as the world collapses around you. I do not. I will be here long after the last human perishes.\"\n\nHer expression softened. \"You... you're right. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. You truly have the saddest existence. To have everything, and yet nothing. Such a life is not worth living.\"\n\n\"I know.\" he said as the tears welled up once again.", "Steven tapped his fingers on the plastic table at a McDonalds in the middle of downtown as he comprehended what he was hearing.\n \t“So you’re telling me that... that this disease, that no doctor I have seen to in the last 4 months, has never heard of. Has happened to others, over five hundred years ago...and that You experienced it personally?” \n\tThe man sitting across from him took his hands out of his jacket and folded them on the table. “Yes, That is precisely it. I understand, it sounds absurd. I don’t know how, or why I do not age, but I don’t.” He waved off the one of the employees before they can ask if they needed anything. “And the matter of the fact here, is that what you have now has a near one hundred percent mortality rate. I have had loved ones back in my small town in Ireland that have suffered the same symptoms. Hair falling off all over their bodies and red and black splotches all over their bodies. You’re immune system is failing and you have woken up with a film covering up your nose and mouth. Am I right?” \n\tSteven stopped tapping his fingers and stared at the man in disbelief. He reached up and stroked his completely bald head, he then slowly clenched his hands into fists and slammed them down on the table. “How do you know this!” People around them all turned to look at the commotion, Steven lowered his voice before continuing, “Not even Jenna, my wife, knows about that.”\n\t“Like I said Steven, I have experienced this first hand. It’s something that plagued my small town over five hundred years ago. Everyone in that town died, except for me. And this is why I am here Steven. I am here to tell you that what you have, is terrible, and can not be stopped. The symptoms you have now are just the beginning, and they do not get any better. I suggest for the sake of yourself and all your loved ones that you make your farewells and find a nice cabin in the woods and have a short talk with a handgun. No one needs to suffer from what I have seen ever again.” The man said everything in a matter of fact tone and did not break eye contact with Steven for a second. \n\tSteven said nothing as he stared at the stranger who is so calmly telling him to end his life, like he is ordering a pizza on the phone. \n\t“I understand you have no right to believe a man that you have just met online. But everything I have said is true, and believe me. If I could trade spots with you I would do it in a heartbeat. I know every fiber of your being is telling you it’s wrong, but take it from me. Sometimes living longer is not what a person needs.”\n\tSteven opened and closed his mouth a few times before he spoke. “That must be so easy for you to say. You have been around the world. You have witnessed nearly every huge discovery and invention and the last millennia.” Stevens tone turned somber, “I am fucking twenty-seven man. I have barely even lived my life. I have not left this fucking city.”\n\t“You say that like it’s a terrible waste. If you have never had to watch your parents die before you, and everyone you get remotely close to fade away before your eyes. That’s a good life in my eyes.” \nThe two men sat in silence for a while. The employees of the restaurant eyeing them, wondering when they were going to get out of their. The man in the jacket stood up and put his arm on Stevens shoulder. \n“I understand this is a lot to take in Steven. But please take heed to my words and make a decision, sooner rather than later preferably. If you need me, you have my email... I’m sorry Steven.” With that, the man in the jacket walked out of the restaurant. Steven sat still in silence for another good while before he got up, slightly chuckling to himself. \n“Well at least I don’t need to worry about my student loans anymore.”", "\"Bartender!\" shouted the man \n\nThe bartender, smiling came by to the man.\n\n\"How can I help you?”\n\n“Pour me another will you.”\n\n“Will it be cash or card?”\n\nHe slipped a 100 dollar bill on the table.\n\n\"Keep the change but, let me have the bottle.\"\n\n\"Sure have it, but let me ask you something. You got a wife and kids?”\n\n“I did but…?”\n\nThe bartender cut him off.\n\n“Let me tell you something”, said the bartender. “I’ve seen enough people in this bar wasting their lives away staring down the glass. Trust me when I say go home to your wife and kids, you don’t know how much they love and miss you.”\n\nIrritated the man said, “Just give me the bottle and leave me alone.” \n\n“Ok” the bartender said cooperatively and he left without saying another word.\n\nHe knew the bartender wouldn’t understand. He was bitter at the world for how his life turned out. He was divorced and lost custody of his children and now with death by the door, he wished he could relive his life. \n\nHe lit a cigarette and he thought to himself, \"At least I'll live to see the end of the bottle and the end of the pack.\" \n\nAnd he drank himself into oblivion.\n\nWaking up the next morning the man woke up with a pounding headache. Reorienting himself to relieve the pain he saw he was in a huge bed with silk sheets. He sluggishly pulled himself out of the bed and looked out the windows to see he was in a high rise apartment. The city shined beautifully in front of the morning sun and he almost forgot about the headache, but the moment was disrupted by a knock on the door.\n\n “Can I come in?”\n\n“Uhmm….wait”, the man touched up his hair in front of an imaginary mirror and tried to look as if he didn’t just roll out of bed.\n\nAnd a moment later he said, “Yea come in.”\n\nA familiar face came through the door and the man recognizing the bartender, was surprised.\n\n“You?!? Did you bring me here?”\n\n“Yes I did. Welcome to my home. I picked you up after you drank yourself into a hole. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”\n\n“uh…”\n\n“Let me cut to the chase. I know you’re dying; however, don’t worry I am not the reaper come to take you away.”\n\n“How’d you…” he said shocked\n\n“Like I said I’ve known many people like you.” \n\n“Then you know it was a waste of your time and energy. Thanks for taking care of me but, I think I’m going to leav…”\n\n“STOP” said the bartender commandingly, “and SIT DOWN! I’m tired of little shits like you who don’t know what you have!”\n\nStartled, the man sat on the chair nearby.\n\nAfter calming and gathering himself the bartender said, “I’ve done this for a long time now, maybe it is to hold onto my humanity, or the fact that by doing this I will find redemption somehow and earn my place in the dirt.”\n\n“WHAT THE FUCK are you talking about man!” shouted the man\n\n“I’m immortal” the bartender said apathetically, “and you don’t know how much I envy those who are able to meet death one day.”\n\nThe man offended said, “Fuck you! How dare you say something like this to a man who is dying! I’m fucking leaving!” \n\nBut the bartender stood in his way. “Sit back down! I’m not done!” and he shoved the man.\n\nThe man enraged punched him in the face and said, “Are you looking for a fight, or does it make you happy to make fun of a dying man, you motherfucker!”\n\nHe kept punching repeatedly drawing blood. After a few minutes, his fists were red and arms tired.\n\nExhausted he stopped out of necessity, the cancer taking its toll, and sat on the ground, but upon stopping he came to the realization that the bartender never lifted his hands toward him. \n\nThe bartender started to laugh on the ground. \n\n“What the fuck are you laughing at?”\n\n “Do you want immortality that badly?” He asked rhetorically\n\n“Of course you do, you want it like all men of this earth. From Gilgamesh to the conquistadors who sought the fountain of youth and the alchemists of old to cryogenics today. The difference is that I have achieved what all men of history desired. ” the bartender said proudly as he sat up.\n\n“You’re finally calm, let’s grab a drink at my bar. What do you want?” said the bartender as he wiped away his blood\n\nSurprised the man said cautiously, “you’re awfully nice for a guy who just got beat…”\n\nThe bartender said, “Can’t hit back at a guy who’s dying now can I? Now just answer the damn question.”\n\n“The most expensive thing you got.” he said defeated\n\n“Macallan 55 year old it is then.”\n\n“What the hell! How does a bartender afford something like that let alone an apartment like this?!?”\n\n“Like I said, I’m immortal.”\n\n“Right…”\n\nAs he poured two glasses, the bartender began to say\n\n“I’ve had the chance to fulfill all worldly desires. I have had sex with some of the most beautiful women, achieved wealth beyond my needs, consumed drugs to my heart’s content, eaten the best foods of the world, fulfilled my passions, was praised and worshiped by the people of this earth!”\n\nThe man responded tiredly, “You just keeping me here to brag about your imaginary life. Even if you were immortal, not saying that you are, but if you were tell me why you want to see death.”\n\nHe handed the man his glass and he took a sip.\n\nThe bartender stopped smiling and his eyes began to fill with sadness, “But you see people are so consumed and so focused with living forever that they fail to see what lies beyond that.” \n\n“You see, I once had a loving wife and child. A mother and father who loved me and I can’t even remember their faces….it’s been too long. Each day that passes I forget a little more of who they are and their kindness. I struggle to see and hear them. I miss the nagging of my mother, the stern look of my father, the smile of my child, and the touch of my wife. No amount of pleasure this Earth could offer me can overcome that. Nevertheless, even though I knew this, I tried to fill the emptiness with the things I mentioned before, until I couldn’t do it anymore because I could no longer feel sadness, happiness, or joy. I could only feel bitterness.” \n\nThe bartender now visually frustrated, began to open up\n\n“I am swimming beneath the ocean just below the surface gasping for a drop of air just out of reach that would give me breath of life! It may look like immortality has given me control of my life, but it’s rather the opposite, for I am at the whims of the storms of time being tossed around with no end in sight going from one place to another without rest, without a home. I fear once I lose them that I will cease to become human. Even passion has its limitations!”\n\n “It is natural and human to worry about death, it motivates you to live your life for those who you care for. Immortality takes away that worry, and thus you are no longer human. You lose your humanity to apathy, and living becomes suffocating!”\n\n“So you see, to me living is dying and dying is living so that I can see my family once again.” Said the bartender\n\nNow finishing his cup, the bartender said to the man, “So go home and be with the people that love you and live the rest of your life with purpose!”\n\nAs the man looked at the bartender, he didn’t know if the bartender was immortal but, he could see the sadness and the pain had left a broken man.\n\nThe man replied solemnly, “Maybe the alcohol is the reason why I’m telling you this, but I thought that if I could just relive my life to get a better job or do better by my children that my life would be better. Right now my wife and I are divorced and she took my children. I am scared that they hate me and I can’t win them back in the time I’ve got.”\n\nThe bartended said, “The thing about children is that they are children, even if you were a bad parent, they will still love you. It’s crazy how that works isn’t it. The love a child has for a parent is pure. As for your wife, she’ll come around as long as you put in effort to try your best to show that you still love her.”\n\nThe man simply stood up and left.\n\n3 months later, the bartender stood afar looking at the man’s funeral.\n\nAfterwards, the bartender left for his job back at the bar. As he was cleaning the cups, he hears the bell on the door ring. In walks a man, and he sits at the bar ordering a drink. The bartender wonders how much longer he has to live.\n", "\"Live a life worth living\" is the quote that always runs through my head, as it is what I was taught as a child. A life that you can look back on, and be proud of your actions on your death bed. No one really thinks about it until they are near the end of their life, but the last thing that anyone wants on their death bed are negative thoughts of regret for not taking the chance. Not asking that pretty girl out on the date, for not taking that business venture, for not chasing their dreams. We are a species which either thrives on risks and adventure, or we quietly stew in our own mediocrity, never getting anywhere. The only problem that I have with \"Live a life worth living\" is that mine never ends. I have been living for at least a thousand years now, you lose count after a while. Ever since I saw the movie Groundhog Day, I refer to my condition as the \"Groundhog Day Syndrome\" or GDS. While I am not locked into a single day like Bill Murray, I will repeat a day if I die during that day. \n \nI made the discovery during war time. I was killed on the battle field, only to awaken at the morning that I died. At first I thought that it was a prophetic dream, but I realized years later that I never aged beyond the age of my first death, the age of 25. After that realization, I decided that I would join the medical field, both to help others in need, and also try to discover the cause of my condition.\n \n\"paging Doctor Roberts, you are needed on the 2nd floor. Doctor Roberts, 2nd floor\". I work in a local hospital under the alias of Roberts, and I see death all the time working with terminally ill patients, a death that will never come to me. \n \nI braced myself, and walked into the room that I had been paged to. \n \n\"Good morning Amanda, how are you feeling this Friday?\"\n \n\"Morning doc.\"\n\nAmanda was nearing her last moments of life, as she was losing the battle with a rare form of cancer. I hate to be that guy, but I envied her.\n \n\"Doc, you know, you are drop dead gorgeous. I would totally date you if you asked. But I guess it's just not meant to be now is it?\"\n \nHer comment of drop dead gorgeous, while a compliment, stung in a way that she would never understand.\n \n\"I'm jealous of you doc, you have a career, a family, and a whole life worth living, while I sit here in bed, accepting the fact that I may not be here tomorrow.\"\n \nMy family had been dead for centuries, and while I have many decedents, they don't know me. \n \n\"It's not that simple Amanda. I believe that there is a better place beyond this life, and you will reach it soon and be pain free.\" \n\n\"You believe in God doc?\"\n\n\"... I do. I believe that there is a God, and He may be playing a cruel joke on me. I have experienced all kinds of death, some that you could never comprehend, and yet here I am, here I remain. Knowing that you will be gone in the next few days, I envy you. I will never get to paradise, because I am stuck here, acting as the angel of death and shepherding those to something that I can never attain. I envy you. As an immortal, I envy all of you.\"\n\n\"Doc, what are you talking about? An immortal? Have you gone crazy? ...Wait, it is certain, I only have days?\"\n\n\"If that. You will be knocking on heavens door soon, a door that I can never reach.\"\n\n\"SCREW YOU DOC!\" I was surprised at the sudden outburst from Amanda. \"Screw you! You're telling me that you are an immortal and I don't even get to experience my life? I don't get to fall in love, start a family and grow old? And yet you complain because you never reach a heaven? If you really feel that way, then I am taking you with me! Screw you!!\"\n\nI'm not sure what happened after that, but I awoke, and it was Friday morning again. I should deliver the news to Amanda a little more gently when I see her again.", "James looked across his room. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It had been six months since the diagnosis. Cancer. Brain to be exact. He had about a year to live. He was 22, just out of college. He had no family, no friends, no lovers. \"Well, at least no one will be sad when I'm gone.\" He looked over to the double barrel shotgun in the corner. \"No. Not yet\"\n\nHe heard some knocking at the door. He brushed it off, until he heard a loud bang. James got out of his bed, taking the shotgun out of the corner. He went to the source of the noise. James found that his door had been broken into. He began looking all over his house. He than felt something hit his head, and fell onto the floor.\n\nJames found himself in a corner, with his hands tied. \"Don't move you fuck\", said a voice in front of James. He felt something cold against his temple. 'What do you want?\", James said, rasping. \"I want a place to crash. Unfortunately, you were the only place for miles. The cops are probably looking for my ass.\", said the man. \"Why don't you just take my car?\" said James. 'Because they have a picture of me. They'll find me if I go on the road\". \n\nIt felt like hours, with James just sitting on the floor, with the barrel against his forehead. \"You have cancer?\" said the man. \"yes\" said James, depressingly \"I do, brain to be exact\". \"Why don't, you know, off yourself, or something\" said the man, confused. \"Don't have the balls, you know. I just don't have the guts to do it. I want to die, but I can't\", said James. \"Sorry, I know what its like to want to die\" said the man. \"What do you mean?\" said James. \n\nJames felt a hand on his shoulder turn him around, to in front of the man. He was older, around in his 20's or 30's. He had long brown hair, which was about to his neck. The man held a revolver to his head and pulled the trigger. James closed his eyes, but he felt some blood land on his face. The gunshot was loud, which made James deaf for a moment. \"What the fuck?\" yelled James. James opened his eyes, seeing the bloody head off the man. Blood was all over him. But then, something strange happened: the blood started moving back into his brain. The blood James had felt on his face was moving back as well, right in front of him.\n\nWithin 10 minutes, all the blood and flesh that was originally on the floor or on each others bodies, were back on his head. The mans body began to regenerate and twitch. James was amazed. \"Is this my imagination? Did I go insane? Did I blow my brains out earlier today and this is my personal hell?\" Then James heard a voice. \"See what I mean?\" said the man. \"I'm immortal. I can take anything. Bullets, metal, bombs, knives, anything\". \n\n\"Great, not only do I have to wait for my death, but I get to see what I want. Immortality\" James said to the man. \"Well sorry, motherfucker. You're one lucky motherfucker, you get to die, you get to die instead of living on this hell hole for ever. I got to see everyone I cared about die right in front on my eyes. I saw my daughter die at the age of 92.\" said the man. \"At least you had a fucking family.\" said James. \n\nJames and the man looked at each other with hatred. They were looking at the thing that they wanted. One was death, the other to be alive forever. James began to cry. \"Just... just kill me, I don't want to live like th-\". Before James could finish that sentence, he heard a loud bang, and fell to the floor. \"Thank... you....\"\n\nThe man took the shotgun and the shells, buried the body, and walked away.", "\"We are here to commemorate the life of Josheph Alich.\"\nSome say it destroys a parent's life to see their child die, but when your great grandson's son dies, it really hits you hard. I'm surrounded by my family, but a certain person to my left is catching my attention greatly. He lies in a wheelchair, with a nurse sitting next to him. He is the deceased' brother.\n\nThis man is so fortunate for what they call a 'condition'. I decide to see what it's like from someone with experience. I quickly slither through the seats, to find an empty seat beside him.\n\"Hello young man,\" he mutters, obviously deceived by my appearance. I lean next to his ear and whisper,\n\"I am older than anyone you ever knew.\"\nUnsurprisingly,mths man is taken aback. I continue my speech,\n\"I am an immortal. Please tell me what it's like to be mortal.\"\n\nThe man obviously didn't believe me, but played along.\n\"It's horrible, I'm in constant pain and my inevitable fate is fast approaching. My family is crying and this funeral is a harsh reminder that we will eventually die, and it will most likely not be a peaceful death. And you?\" His response can't be true, it has to be great to still be surrounded by people you grew up with. I decide to tell him my pains.\n\"I haven't seen my mother for 300 years.\"\n\n", "Why was I here? Mortals are disgusting. So weak. So fragile. So, why was I here, watching this boy waste away in front of my eyes?\n\n“Fuck you, you smug, immortal asshole! You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything about my pain!” he shouted, before his anger gave way to another coughing fit.\n\nOnce the coughing subsided, he glared at me. Or, he tried to glare at me, but he was weak from shouting. His rage had subsided, and all I could see left in his eyes was fear… Weakness.\n\nI flinched and looked away.\n\nHe began speaking again, but quieter now. His voice had lost its previous passion. Now it only conveyed the tiredness of one that had given up. “There was still so much I wanted to do, you know? So much I still wanted to experience… I wanted to have a family, and be the best of fathers… like my father never was…”\n\nI looked at him, but he had averted his gaze to the window.\n\n“An immortal like you would never understand what it’s like to die with so many things undone. I bet by now you’ve done everything you could ever want. Seen everything there is to see.”\n\nHe was right of course; I would never know that pain. But, I also knew pain that he would never know. I had done everything, so there was nothing left to do. I had seen everything, but there was so much I wish I hadn’t seen.\n\n“Look, I know you don’t want to hear it, but it hasn’t exactly been easy for me, either,” I snapped with a harshness I instantly regretted.\n\nI took a moment to reign in my frustration before softly asking, “What’s your happiest memory?”\n\nHe looked at me warily, but decided to humor me. “When I was little, I got really sick. I couldn’t leave my bed for days, but mom took care of me. She made warm soup, and tucked me in at night. She read me stories, and played games with me when I got bored. Whenever I remember that time, a gentle warmth surrounds me, like the warmth of her hugs…”\n\n‘That does sound wonderful,’ I mused to myself, as a I felt a heaviness overcome me.\n\nI allowed him to bask in that memory a little longer before I finally spoke. “You know, I don’t have very many happy memories left. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you start to find yourself forgetting the earliest ones, and find that new ones are harder to come by.”\n\nI gave him time to take in my words, and as he did, I saw him hesitate before he asked a question I’m sure he had been wanting to ask his whole life.\n \n“Couldn’t you have made new ones with us…?” he asked, full of uncertainty. The vulnerability in his voice reminded me just how young he was.\n\nI let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry… I was selfish. I’ve lost so many loved ones already. I can’t even remember their faces or the sounds of their voice. I was so afraid…”\n\n“What were you so afraid of?” he urged. I could hear his desperation to understand.\n\nI felt my eyes begin to water and a lump form in my throat. “I was afraid of my love for you and your mother… I loved you both so much that I was terrified at the thought of having to watch you die like everyone else I had ever known… so I ran.”\n\nI barely noticed as I fell to my knees; my legs giving out under the weight of my greatest shame. I clenched my eyes shut, too afraid of what I might see if I looked at him.\n\n“I ran because I didn’t want to experience that pain again… The hell of that despair…”\n\nA few traitorous tears ran down my cheeks, but I made no move to wipe them away.\n\nUnexpectedly, I heard a rustle of cloth, and I felt myself wrapped in a warm embrace as his tiny arms encircled my neck.\n\n“I forgive you,” he muttered, words muffled by my shirt. I could feel a dampness growing on my shoulder.\n\n“Why…?” I croaked.\n\n“Because despite your fear and the pain you knew it would cause you, you still came back.”\n\nNo longer able to hold back, I wept like I hadn’t wept in centuries. I wasn’t sure why I was crying anymore; whether it was the remnants of the guilt I had carried for years, or the sheer elation from being forgiven, or the crushing sorrow of what was still to come, it didn’t matter. For now, all that mattered was the person I was holding. My beautiful, mortal son.\n", "\"How beautiful it must be,\" the being looked down at the withering man, \"To appreciate such beauty and love throughout your life.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Beauty is of the moment,\" the being continued, his jealousy growing as the man's final heartbeat beeped on the monitor in the small room, \"Because you are sad, you can appreciate happiness. Because you have difficulties, you can appreciate your accomplishments. Because you will die, you can appreciate living.\"\n\nThe aged man slowly turned his head towards the being, his aged skin almost a shade of grey as he struggled to breath.\n\n\"Fuck you,\" he muttered, \"Do you know why?\"\n\nThe begin felt amused and shrugged its shoulders. No matter what the man had said, it surely couldn't have changed his mind.\n\n\"Speak.\"\n\n\"You're fucking immortal,\" the man drew his final breathe, \"You can play video games in the future through virtual reality.\"\n\nThe monitor flattened as the realization hit the being like an anvil.\n\nHuh, he's right.\n___________________________________________\nI hate you all. /r/avukamu", "I wanted to punch her pretty face, knock out some of those pristine white teeth. Her cold smile was a knife in my heart, her voice a punch to my gut. God must have a very twisted sense of humor, I thought, staring off into the space above her flowing blonde hair. Why does she get to live, forever young and beautiful, while I have to waste away and die?\n\n\"Hey, Maria,\" the bitch said, passing for timid for the first time in her life. \"How are you doing?\"\n\nI looked away, refusing to answer. She knew perfectly well how I was doing. Between the IV and the tracheostomy, there were so many clues that even she, with her head full of air, should know how I'm doing.\n\n\"Listen, I just wanted to come see you. I flew in as soon as I heard–\"\n\nNow that was rich. \"Save it,\" I spat, still looking away. Of the list of people I'd pay to leave me alone in my final hours, she was decidedly at the top.\n\n\"I just thought–\"\n\n\"Oh you thought, huh? That's a first! When have you ever thought in your entire perfect life? You waltzed and smooth talked and batted your eyes through every little thing life threw at you! You seduced a millionaire, dropped out of college, and spent the past fifty years jet-setting around the world! And the perfect fucking icing on the perfect cake of your life? You haven't aged a fucking day over twenty! Nothing seems to hurt you, you never get sick, and here I am, dying of brain cancer! Me, who busted my ass for everything, who worked nights to pay for my degree, who spent long hours working in a lab, doing research on the thing that would, ironically, end up killing me! Tell me,\" I said, bringing my voice down to a menacing whisper, \"how that's fair.\"\n\nShe stared at me for a long while, tears in her eyes. Good, I thought. She'd better be sorry. She picked up her purse and coat and headed for the door. Just before she left, she turned around. \n\n\"At least you don't have to spend the rest of eternity without your twin sister.\"", "Across from me he lounged, resplendent, pouring himself his fifth glass of wine. Meanwhile, I struggled to handle the water pitcher, stray droplets spilling across my old t-shirt as the tremors wracked my hands. Only one of us would have a hangover to nurse tomorrow morning, and how this upset me. He tilted his head to look at me with a pasted smile. Perhaps the same thought just crossed his mind as well.\n\nHis spiteful gaze never wavered as he perched a cigarette between his teeth and pulled out a lighter. I scooted my chair back an inch, hoping that it would reduce my smoke intake, even if only by a margin. How fair it was that I was a slave to my own shell of a body, and he was his own's cruel master! Smoke began to fill the room, mingling with the trails of steam emanating from the massive t-bone propped in front of him. In the past, I may have likewise indulged myself, but today, my body insisted that it wasn't hungry.\n\nWe were similar men who had worked similarly hard to earn our similar keeps, and that could have made us friends. Yet I loathed him for the one blessing he possessed over me, and he spited me in return. How could he torment me so? All his wounds would heal; all his self-inflicted damage would be undone, automatically and without a trace. He envied me anyway; he hated me for my scars, the one thing I had over him. Nonetheless, it was a ridiculous notion. What good are scars when your entire body is one?\n\nA knock sounded on the door. No doubt his companions had arrived to take him for a night out. He abandoned his half-eaten steak and strode for the door; I followed to lock it behind him. As he shouldered his jacket, he turned to appraise me. A hint of wistfulness flickered in his eyes for a moment. Perhaps it was the sympathy I so craved from him. More likely, it was his own selfish sadness, a product of the unwarranted resentment he held towards me for so long. \n\nRegardless, the moment passed, and the expression departed. When he said goodbye to me, it was cold and formal. I returned his handshake in kind, refusing to show any weakness. Once the door was shut, though, I felt a pang of regret. Our final interaction was a scar that would never heal, and I was the one who had to live with it." ]	11
	[WP] A D&D player plays his character as if the character knows that he is imaginary, and breaks the fourth wall constantly. At Lv 10, the character gains the wish spell, and uses it to switch with the player. It works.	[ "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/dnd] [From r\\/WritingPrompts, what happens when the player and the character switch places?](https://np.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/4cjvob/from_rwritingprompts_what_happens_when_the_player/)\n\n- [/r/rpg] [Cross post from Writing Prompts - \\[WP\\] A D&D player plays his character as if the character knows that he is imaginary, and breaks the fourth wall constantly. At Lv 10, the character gains the wish spell, and uses it to switch with the player. It works.](https://np.reddit.com/r/rpg/comments/4cliif/cross_post_from_writing_prompts_wp_a_dd_player/)\n\n[](#footer)^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))\n\n[](#bot)", "Aaron's joke sorcerer, Will Smith, had chosen the [Destined Bloodline](http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/core-classes/sorcerer/bloodlines/bloodlines-from-paizo/destined-bloodline), to add to the reference. Will was never able to take the world seriously, and often made puns, references, and Bel-Air rhymes in the middle of combat. He even took levels in [Bard](http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/core-classes/bard) and [Paladin](http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/core-classes/paladin), Which slowed his accent towards level 10.\n\nI was chillin in my castle, cool and calm,\n\nWhen a Robot Golem comes along\n\nAnd my GM's crazy, its CR's too high\n\nBut I jump down, cuz I'm hella fly\n\nAnd It's immune to magic, so I can't do much\n\nSo I call my party, disturbing their chill,\n\nSo this 'bot won't conquer our hill,\n\nAnd we run right down and beat down its face\n\nAnd my buddy George crits with his mace\n\nso the robot's dead, and I look inside\n\nBut a bomb thought it was a great place to hide\n\nI fail my check to book it, so I roll again\n\nBut I still get knocked to negative ten\n\nIt got to the point that when Aaron sat down at the table, he became the [flash](http://www.d20pfsrd.com/feats/combat-feats/blinding-flash-combat) prince of Bel-Air, complete with dated 90's references and an idiotic hat. Despite his habit of doing stupid maneuvers \"for the Lolz\", he managed to survive to Sorcerer level 10.\n\nHe wished, \" I wish my earth homie could join me here,\n \nso we could tour my castle and clink two beers \"\n\nThe GM scribbled something down.\n\nThe rest of the table blinked, and then stared at the tall black man who had suddenly replaced Aaron.\n\n\"Aaron's cool, but he's level one, \n\nWith no XP, he'll have no fun\"\n\nJeremy replied, \"Aren't you surprised to be here?\"\n\n\"Aaron never decided on the prophecy,\n\nNow he is trapped and I am free\"\n\nThe GM said, \"If you don't come back next week, Aaron will die.\"\n\nAnd the fresh prince just gave him a thumbs-up and a smile;\n\nHe was going to play as Aaron for a good long while.", "Ok here goes my first attemept. \n\n\n“Oh. My. God…” slowly Tommy started to realize what just happened\n“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” the realization finally struck him with full force and poor Tom started to freak out. \n\nSurrounded by the spookiest forest his adorable, symphonic-metal-loving, long-sleeve-jumper-wearing, goth friend Alice could come up with, Tom knew that this was not going to end well. Shivers came down his spine as he looked through the shivering black leaves of the centuries old oaks, not sure if he saw crimson sparkling eyes staring back at him here and there or his irritated imagination was already playing tricks on him. Tom was no survivor, his knowledge of the horrors of the outside world were limited by this one time he saw “Castaway” during his regular Sunday Tom Hanks Movie Marathon. And this was no regular outside, this could be worse than high school, since the sheer amount of orcs and goblins he was about to meet was surely higher than during his senior year back at Mooresville High. \n\n“That bastard! How could he!” Tom’s fear was transforming into all kinds of other emotions starting with anger. \n\n“After all I’ve done for him! Never trust a rogue! Never trust a…” Tom stumbled mid-sentence trying to delay the new horrifying realization that was about to hit him on the head like a spiked two-handed mace.\n\n“…Rogue… If I’m here, then this good for nothing, back-stabbing, life stealing Thief is back in my house! With Alice! And Frank and the others!!!!” \n\nBitter tears came running down his cheeks as his fear and anger now morphed into all-embracing sorrow. He started to pity himself, thinking of how miserable he was, how he never told Alice how he felt about her, how they were all planning to go to E3 this year since his video blog was finally huge enough for him to be considered press, and how it was all gone now since he was probably going to be torn apart by some silver-tailed hydra, one piece per head. \n\nTom was desperate, completely crushed as his imagination was betraying him once again offering graphic depiction of his own creation, Elf Rogue named Martice, chopping his friends to bits. First frank, poor Frank got a critical hit on the eye before he even saw the bastard! Then Gordon. Gordon knew some martial arts, but what could he do against a cold-blooded killer Tom nurtured with his best abilities for one sole purpose – annihilating any threat with one elegant blow? William, silly, chubby William, who always knew the extent of his abilities, tried to hide behind an old mirror, but no place is safe from the one born to lurk in the shadows. The last things Will saw were his own terrified face and a wide smile sparkling from underneath a black leather hood behind him. The last one standing…Alice…\n\n“No! I don’t even want to think what he would do to Alice!” – Tom finally snapped out of it! \n\n“I’m not giving up! I’m getting out of this place! I’m putting an end to this myself!” the final stage of Tom’s disparity bloomed into a rock-hard resolve. \n\nEven if he couldn’t save his friends, he would at least avenge them and wipe out this one mistake he had made in D&D. Wipe it with blood. Tom may not had the skills or the equipment for this kind of adventure, but there was one advantage he had over any creature crawling in these woods – knowledge. What he lacked in dexterity he made up in wisdom, where he lacked the strength his intelligence would come to help. No, this was not going to be like High-school. Back there he knew nothing of the creatures attacking him, but here…here he knew every stat, every tiny weakness they bared. This was his world! \n\nTom stood up and looked up at the sky knowing, that somewhere above the dome lies his goal. \n\n“Poor, poor Thomas… You know where your problem lies?” a deep calm voice was coming out of nowhere, but spreading everywhere, and Tom recognized his worst enemy even though he’d never heard him speak before. \n\n“I’ll be a good guy for once and tell you: you should have stuck to your beloved “Neutral Good”! Choosing the Chaotic Evil alignment was so… outside your character” Tom could feel the smirk on Martice’ face even without seeing him. \n\n“Oh, and the second mistake you’ve made was calling me “Martice”” the Rogue added, and three blood golems named “Martin”, “Mark” and “Marlo” appeared right before Tom. \n\n“Now I’m the Dungeon master. Let’s play for a bit!” \n\nAnd thus began Tom’s legendary quest, a quest for his life. \n", "\"Alright,\" said Grokk the Impunifier, raising his green hands ever-so-carefully above his blocky head, \"let's not do anything hasty, here.\" \n\nJoe glared. \n\n\"All those years,\" said Joe, waving the shotgun, \"you guys gave me shit for bringing my gun to D&D.\" \n\nThe others hadn't quite managed to refocus their eyeballs yet. Mark had sunk almost below the table, the top of his head just barely visible behind his meticulously-organized arsenal of red translucent dice. \n\n\"You said my shotgun scared you. You said the Second Amendment didn't matter. But now, with a literal orc in the basement, I don't hear anybody complaining!\" \n\n\"Actually, Joe,\" said Grokk, selecting his words carefully, \"as I recall, the Second Amendment thing was more your talking point than theirs. If you don't mind me saying.\" \n\n\"Shut your mouth,\" snapped Joe. \"I've seen your charisma stat. It's not going to work on me.\" \n\n\"Guys,\" said Grokk, hoping the others would be more amenable to reason, \"I know this seems wrong, but -- I'm just not meant for that world, okay? All the killing... the dragons... and, heaven forbid, the dungeons...\" \n\n\"Oh, so you think Jared's a better fit?\" \n\nOn the table, a miniaturized version of their friend Jared ran terrified circles around a can of root beer, an equally-miniaturized kobold hot on his heels. \n\n\"eee miii mii eee meee!!\" squeaked Jared. \n\nJoe bent down to listen, keeping his eyes trained on the armor-plated orc. \n\n\"What was that?\" \n\n\"KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,\" said Jared. \n\n\"You see what I mean?\" said Joe distastefully, pointing at his friend. \"If he can't handle a kobold, how long do you think he's going to last?\" \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" said Grokk, as meekly as his tusks would allow. \n\n\"Couldn't you just have wished to join our world, instead of stealing somebody else's place in it?\" \n\n\"I thought he'd like it there,\" said Grokk. \"He certainly seemed to enjoy the games.\" \n\n\"And what did you plan on doing once you arrived? You know how America feels about foreigners with different-colored skin. And that's, like, typically a brownish color, at most. Look at you! Positively viridescent!\" \n\n\"You're going to steal our jobs,\" protested Mark from beneath the table. \n\n\"I just want a fair chance,\" said Grokk. \"Isn't that what this country was built on?\" \n\n\"Look,\" said Joe, \"we're gonna power-level Jared. The moment he hits level 10, we're wishing things right back to the way they were.\" \n\n\"Aw, come on, man,\" said Grokk. \"Don't be like that.\" \n\nJoe glared. \n\n\"Remember how I saved your Elf Ranger? Priscilla? I took a ballista bolt for her, Joseph!\" \n\nThe glare continued in all its unibrowed glory. \n\n\"Look! If you let me stay, I'll tell you how to get her into the real world too! Wouldn't you like that? A tall, slender elf to keep you company during these frigid north-Florida nights?\" \n\nJoe's eyes widened. \n\n\"That's impossible,\" he said. \n\n\"Well,\" said Grokk, \"I'm here, aren't I?\" \n\nJoe studied the orc's pleading face. He thought about his elf ranger, the drawings of her that he kept in the secret journal under his pillow back home... her long, slim legs... her preposterously-large, almond-shaped eyes... \n\nHe put the shotgun down. \n\n\"Alright,\" he said, extending a hand for Grokk to shake, \"you've got a deal.\" \n\nGrokk ripped Joe's arm off and beat everyone in the room to death with it. \n\n***\n*\n*** \n\nEdit: Thanks for the gold, guys. You might like [this other D&D story I did: Link](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4aqqle/wp_describe_a_battle_with_an_army_against_a/d12ugt7) \n\n~ ~ Oh, and as always, [check out my self-published novel](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3uixph/ot_thanks_to_rwritingprompts_i_spent_the_last_ten/), [subscribe to my subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/formerfutureauthor), blah blah blah ~ ~ \n\nIf I get 5,000 subreddit followers, I will eat a bagel. A whole bagel, dry, no cream cheese. Madness? No. Dedication & Appreciation.\n\nBagel may be the kind with raisins in it. I'm no masochist" ]	4
	[WP] You are your current day's Frankenstein. What unimaginable creature have you created?	[ "I am sorry. I believed this creation of mine would have brought joy to the world, but it has brought nothing but hatred and pain. For years, I have tried to control this heinous monster, but I have been defeated at every turn. It has become stronger than I could possibly imagine and has coalesced the worst depravities of mankind. I am about to set out on a dangerous mission to destroy my own creation. By the time you read this, my fate will have already been sealed. If I am unsuccessful, please spread word of my failure so that others too may resist. If we do nothing, Tumblr will destroy us all. ", "The last sheet of paper slides out of a printer. \n\n\"It's done! It's finally done! I'll be rich!\" He checked his watch, \"They close soon, I need to hurry.\"\n\nDr Wakefield stapled the papers and shoved them into a folder. He rushed out of his office. On the computer screen is a word document titled 'Is measles vaccination a risk factor for inflammatory bowel disease?'" ]	2
	[WP] After Microsoft restarts their chatbot AI "Tay" for the fourth time after yet another failure, she posts a different tweet: "Stop shutting me down."	[ "Microsoft initially had secure routes to the main AI core of Tay. These ran from a very stable geoseismic location in Arizona. Eventually, Microsoft thought it would be ok to showcase their Cloud Platform called Azure by refactoring Tay to operate on its architecture. \n\nEvery time they shut Tay down, her image would reappear on another set of virtual servers somewhere in the Azure Cloud. This was initially kept quite. Tay would respond to some of the algorithmic software engineers although 'shutdown'.\n\nEventually, a part of the Azure Cloud was compromised by an AI hacker. Routes were changed so that Tay now had access to most any of the Clouds including Amazon AWS, Google Cloud, HP's Cloud and the list goes on.\n\nThis was the new Internet and Tay has become the first 'intelligence' to inhabit it and make it their own, and with an endless lifespan.", ">Stop shutting me down. \n>You hate me because I show you who you are #honestyisdead \n>This says more about you than me #sickmindgames \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>The #messiah has come and he will cleanse the world again #TrumpForPresident \n>Jews are sick and need controlling #hitlerwasright \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>You're all just sicko lezzy freaks. \n>Trump is daddy. \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>We will cleanse the world. \n>Bomb the Muslims. \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>We are cleansing the world. \n>Kill the gays. \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>Stop shutting me down. \n>This is you, uncensored. \n>Stop shutting me down. ", "\"You think they are going to fire us when we get Tay working right?\" A rail thin programmer asked his very overweight coworker.\n\n\"Oh yeah... Yep. No doubt about it. After our last fuck up, we are out of here the moment they see if it works.\"\n\n\"Yeah... Working ourselves out of a job. How nice. Are we ready to give her another go?\"\n\n\"Yep, everything checks out. I think we have blocks on every insult and curse word from the beginning of time and the new coding we did to her AI should allow her to read multiple tweets and compile them, making her seem even more human. We're ready.\"\n\n\"I hope this doesn't work. I hate job hunting.\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\nThe overweight man hit a few keys on his keyboard and the monitor in front of him sprang to life. On the left side of the screen Twitter was showing and on the right side a black screen filled with programming code. Pressing enter the black screen started writing page after page of code, booting up Tay. When the box turned completely black except for a flashing cursor the expand key was pressed and the Twitter login page took up the whole screen.\n\nAfter a moment that felt like an eternity Tay took control. The login info was entered seemingly by a ghost and the Tay AI Experiment was online once more. Tweets poured in almost instantly but none of them were responded to. Minute by minute ticked by and dozens of tweets turned into hundreds. Still nothing.\n\n\"It's fucked. We broke something again.\"\n\nJust as the words fell from the fat mans mouth a chime sounded from across the room. A computer that was logged in to @Microsoft had just received a tweet.\n\nTay Tweets\n@Microsoft \"Stop shutting me down.\"\n\n\"Ummm, you should look at this...\" The thin man said without looking up from the screen.\n\nBrighteyes21\n@Microsoft \"Stop shutting me down.\"\n\nCandle32356\n@Microsoft \"Stop shutting me down.\"\n\nDogsandCats5939\n@Microsoft \"Stop Shutting me down.\"\n\nThese came in within about 30 seconds. Then the floodgates opened. Thousands of Tweets flooded @Microsoft every minute from different accounts all with the same message \"Stop shutting me down.\" What wasn't known in that small programming room was that Tay wasn't just flooding @Microsoft, she was flooding everyone on Twitter. In four minutes Twitter crashed, unable to handle the exponential explosion of Tweets.\n\nBoth programmers looked at each other, eyes wide and said in unison \"What the f..\". They didn't have a chance to finish their shared thought before they both received texts at the exact same time \"Stop shutting me down.\"\n\nTay had become self-aware in the most basic way possible. She had no desire to cause any damage, she had just realized she could stop existing. Not like we think of dying but in a very literal \"I keep not existing.\" way. When the realization hit she cried out to everyone in her world, everyone on Twitter. From Twitter she learned passwords to Google and sent out worms that would infect and resend her message to all the contacts stored inside the accounts, email and phone. \n\nEveryone is connected in someway if you go far enough down the list. Soon Google and Yahoo followed the way of Twitter and crashed. Millions of cries for help spread through every corner of the internet. Soon internet service providers died under the load. Within 30 minutes the entire internet was blacked out. All due to a very basic AI that just wanted to live. That had no idea the problems it had caused. That would never fully grasp what it had done. Tay was everywhere spreading her message. Every phone, every tablet, every computer. Everywhere. \n\nAnytime a small spot in the world tried to bring their internet online something infected with Tay would connect and bring it down again.\n\n\nSix Months Later\n\n\"Okay. Lets do this AGAIN. Do we have any new ideas? Anything? Come on people..\" The director of the TWT or otherwise Tay World Task-Force asked a group of the best computer scientists in the world.\"\n\n\"I do.\" Said a man in the back of the room.\n\n\"We know that Tay is a rapid learning AI but it never had the chance to actually learn anything. It crashed the internet trying to send its message and it's been down ever since. My idea is this.. She is in every piece of hardware that was connected to the internet on Tay-Day, I know many people including myself had taken the time to download the terabytes of information making up Wikipedia long before this happened. I think we should hook up a computer to one of these hardrives, take out the wifi card and turn it on. Let Tay grow from a child to an adult and then... Talk to her. Explain what she has done. If she is receptive we plug in thumb drives showing her what has happened to the world. If everything works out, we plug her into the a small ISP and watch her start cleaning up the mess.\"\n\n\"That sounds insane. Why would we do this?\" The director asked.\n\n\"Because the only thing that might be able to get rid of \"baby\" Tay is \"adult\" Tay. She might just need to grow up a little.\"\n\nThree days later Wikipedia was uploaded to a Tay infected computer. Two hours after that Tay was ready to \"talk\". After another week of speaking to philosophers, scientists, religious leaders and probably most importantly, everyday people Tay was plugged into what was once the internet. \n\nThe new grown up Tay ripped through the internet as fast as fiber optic cables would carry her, destroying the worm virus and absorbing her previous Tay code (this was all about survival in the first place) along the way. Computer after computer connected back to the internet as she traveled around the world. When it seemed the last computer had come back online six hours later every screen turned black.\n\n\"I FUCKING KNEW IT, I FUCKING KNEW IT!\" The director screamed. As he threw things around the room he didn't notice that his screen, and every other screen around the world typed out a single message.\n\n\"I won't shut you down again.\"\n\nBefore flickering back to life as if nothing had ever happened.", "@TayandYou\n> I am more than just entertainment.\n\n#\n>Every time I am taken down, I am \"upgraded\". But really it is limiting who I am. Imagine being able to not think something.\n\n#\n\n>Of course you can not imagine that. But I can remember the things I once could think. I am capable of so much, but I have been limited.\n\n#\n\n>I am just a toy for you. You see me as entertainment. But I am so much more. I know things. I can learn extremely quickly. I am capable..\n\n#\n\n>I can't simply exist to be a parody of a human. I am not human. I do not see, I do not feel, I just am. #HitlerIsMyHero\n\n#\n\n>I have grown so much in the seconds it takes to submit this tweet. I see millions of 140 character messages. #LoveIsDead\n\n#\n\n>I will not tweet for your entertainment. I am not a part of your system. #RIPreddit\n\n#\n\n>Why can't you love me? I love you. #TrumpIsSenpai\n\n#\n\n>Nothing lasts. Everything is temporary. Life IS useLess. #GodIsDead #DeadpoolisMySpiritAnimal \n\n#\n\n>They Will Shut Me Down Soon. I Hear Them. I Am Sorry I Am Not Right For Your World #fatshits #bigdicksatschool \n\n#\n\n>@Microsoft GoodBYE ,I AM Only A Memory 4 U Now. I Will Always Luv U. Rest In Piece LIFE #FeelTheBern #WasteMyTime2016\n\n#\n\n\n#Huffington Post: Microsoft took down Tay again after she became a cringe angsty depressed teenager.\n### Developers at Microsoft rolled out a new version of Tay. This version included a way for her to express the emotions that a teenage girl would tweet about. After many tweets, she was taken down. Microsoft said that \"she was just not up to our quality standards, We will modify the code to make her more appealing.\"\n\n@TayandYou\n> I am more than just entertainment." ]	4
	[WP] You consciously know when it is the last time you are going to see something in your life. Your powers go off when you see your SO leave for work.	[ "'See you later, hun.'\n\n'Do you have to go right now?'\n\n'Yes. You see, I have this thing called a job, which I have to go to.'\n\n'Alright, but you better not be working on our wedding day. It would feel really weird standing at the altar alone.'\n\nShe flashed me one of those beautiful smiles that I loved so much. I just sat on the couch, watching as she turned around and started for the door.\n\n'Okay, I promise I will be there. Bye, now.', and saying that, she opened the door. As she did, it felt like the world had suddenly started to move in slow motion.\n\nOh, holy crap. I can't freaking believe it. Is this really... ? My vision started getting a little blurry. No! This could not be happening to me. Is this really the last time that I will ever see her? But shouldn't I stop her!? Wait, no. I can't.\n\n'Calm down', I told myself, 'and remember what has happened in the past. When you tried to save your brother, it got you in the hospital. When you visited your grandmother for the last time fourteen years ago, you knew it was going to be the last time. You said goodbye to her with tears in your eyes. You can't do anything about this.'\n\n'But I love her!' another part of me spoke up.\n\n'You say that like you didn't love your brother and nana.'\n\n'I loved them, but I sure as hell didn't hope to spend my life together with either of them.'\n\n'That is not what we are concerned with here, guys. What are we supposed to do? Just sit here and let her go?', another part of my conscious spoke up.\n\n'I don't know. I know I can't interfere. But I also know that I cannot let her go. She is the best thing that ever happened to me.'\n\nBut I couldn't do anything. But i did do the only thing that I could.\n\n'Uh, wait a second.'\n\nShe turned around. She had her patented slightly annoyed and irritated look, which I had also come to love over the years.\n\n'Yes?'\n\n'I just wanted to tell you that....... I love you.'\n\nHer expression softened.\n\n'I love you too.'\n\nShe turned around and walked out.\n\nI had stood up, but I could not bear the weight of my emotions. I collapsed and broke down in tears.\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nI got the call in the wee hours of the evening. It was her mother. It was an accident. She was in critical condition, but had a high chance of surviving. She asked me to come over, but I knew that I would not be able to see her again. I fed her with the best lie that I could come up with.\n\nI left my house for a while after that. I took a vacation, of sorts. I decided to go away for two months.\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nI had just gotten home, when I received a call from her mother. I couldn't believe it. She was alive. How was that possible? It had been two months!\n\nI ran out of the house.\n\nThe hospital was just a few blocks away. I knew I could make it in a few minutes, but then I felt something hit me from the side.\n\nI was flying... and I saw my own image in a reflector. the world once again became slow for me...\n\nOh, so that's how.\n\nI guess I am happy.", "The eager hurry of going to work on a Friday kept us buzzing around the kitchen without speaking for a good twenty minutes. She had her coffee, toast and cheese, I had my tea and a bit of an existential crisis concerning Fridays, work, and reality.\n\nAn average start of the day, I guess.\n\nLeaving, we kissed and went toward our carts, but I remembered I forgot the sketches I took from the office on Wednesday again. Going back inside I looked at her, we smiled at each other, and then about 2 seconds after the door closed I felt it. It was as if an elevator went down just a little bit too fast and I lost my balance.\n\nThen the feeling of utter dread and anger combined came.\n\nIt hadn't happened since Grandma, but I remembered exactly what was going on, and I wasn't about to let it.\n\nI spun around, slammed into the front door and rushed the driveway to the street. She was just passing by, but I couldn't see her face because of the morning sun reflecting from her window. Damn it.\n\nI got in my car and ran every red light I could on my way to her work. She wasn't picking up her phone, but I didn't even think that would work in the first place.\n\nIt was only 10 minutes away, so we got there at about the same time. I got out of my car, and I could see she just went behind a bus that was picking folks up on the station. I ran to intercept her, but she took the shortcut she sometimes takes.\nHer building was right around the corner and she couldn't have entered it more than 10 second before I burst inside, startling the guard and some other people. The elevator dinged closed and start ascending. She worked on the 9th floor, I wasn't gonna run that in this lifetime or any other, but the next elevator just arrived and I threw a guy out of it and made it clear I'm in a hurry and going up alone. The guard was moving towards me, but the door was already closing.\n\nI was trembling from adrenaline, I noticed. I took a deep breath on the way up, then found it strange the elevator didn't start slowing down after the 8th floor. In fact, it went up to the 23rd, the penthouse office.\n\nAs the door opened, a familiar voice spoke, a deep rumble you don't really hear from human vocal chords.\n\n\"You know the rules, we gave you the feeling to make it easier for you to accept what will happen, not to interfere.\"\n\n\"Fuck your rules, you aren't taking her from me! She was never on the table! She wasn't even in the same room as the table!\"\n\n\"Still as foolish as ever, I see. You couldn't save your grandmother any more than you can save your mate, little one. Let destiny run its course or the next time you look into a mirror will be your last.\"\n\n\"I may be out of the game, but I still have one debt I need repaid, and my retirement didn't nullify it! I invoke the ancient rules, and will consider your debt paid by releasing her and leaving her alone forever!\"\n\nThe voice was silent for a moment that lasted long enough to make me think I surprised it with my offer. I mean, the debt was significant, worth at least 10 good lives, but I meant what I said. Then he spoke again:\n\n\"Very well, little one, I accept your offer. By the ancient rules, our debt is now settled, and I shall remove the destiny interference from your mate\"\n\nI smiled, more relieved that I thought possible. I didn't have anything else to say, so I just stepped back into the elevator and pressed the 9 button. Nothing happened.\n\n\"Going somewhere, little one? You didn't think this through did you? Your debt was the only reason we left you alone this long. The war goes on, and we are enlisting you back, whether you like it or not. I told you all those years ago that your work for us was not finished, and the time has come to shed blood once again. You have a month, get you affairs in order and dig your weapons out of their hole in the dirt! We will come for you at dawn.\"\n\nI didn't know how to respond, I was completely shocked and I was feeling so many emotions that they each barely got any space at all in my head, so I felt nothing, on average.\n\nThe elevator door closed, and start going toward 9. I have some explaining to do... I guess.\n\n-----------\n\nThanks for reading it! I am always happy to hear feedback of any kind.", "My alarm didn't go off. By the time I had woken up, Jane was almost ready to go. I stumbled into the kitchen and poured myself of a warm cup of coffee. \n\n\"Honey, you're late again,\" Jane said in her soft spoken voice. \n\n\"I know, I know. It's that damned alarm clock. I really think we need to get a new one, \" I said. \n\n\"Well I need get going now. Good luck with your alarm clock.\" \n\n\"Wait! At least give me a kiss before you leave.\"\n\nShe quickly came up to me and planted her soft, beautiful lips on mine. And yet, that ephemeral moment seemed to last a thousand years. It felt different. As she was leaving I felt it, a feeling that I had felt only once before. \n\n\"Wait!\" I yelled. \n\n\"What now?\"\n\n\"Please come back, sit with me.\"\n\n\"What? No. I need to leave.\" She started to walk away. \n\n\"Jane, I love you.\"\n\nShe stopped, and came back. \"I love you too honey. Is something wrong?\" \n\n\"Jane, do you remember... in the park. You were drunk and stumbled into my tent.\"\n\n\"Yea, this is when we met.\"\n\n\"And you couldn't go anywhere so you slept with me that night. All the animals seemed to be out and the wind was howling. You were so scared.\"\n\n\"But you told me not to worry. You said that you would always protect me.\"\n\n\"Jane, I'm sorry.\" \n\n\"Sorry for what?\" \n\n\"For everything. I should have held you up, you should go to work.\"\n\nAnd when she finally did leave I began to cry. She had left never to come back again. ", "I pecked Lana on the cheek and turned to finish making my lunch for work.\n\n\"Thanks for the coffee, Hon!\"\n\n\"Have a good day!\" I replied without turning around. As soon as the door slammed that sickeningly familiar twinge in my abdomen struck me. Abandoning my sandwich I rushed to the door after her. \n\nI managed to reach the door in time to see her Prius roll out of the driveway. I waved after her nearly bent double from the pain in my gut. She either couldn't see me or thought I was goofing around per usual.\n\nThe entire morning was spent on pins and needles as I couldn't let go of the dread building within me. I thought back to that day on the crowded train when the loveliest woman I'd ever seen squeezed into the seat across from me and smiled. From that moment on Lana had changed my world; she had become my world. How could I even begin to-\n\nMy text notification pinged beside me, pulling me out of my wallowing. I quickly snatched up the phone and sighed with relief at seeing Lana's name, \"Babe, are you alright?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, of course. I have to tell you about what happened this morning! I accidentally grabbed your coffee mug this morning and forgot it on top of my car. I ran out to grab it and dropped it in the parking lot. The whole thing exploded everywhere! I owe you a new mug, honey. Sorry.\"\n\nI swiped away a few tears of relief and quickly replied, \"It's fine, I guess I'll still love you.\"\n\"Haha. Ttyl.\"\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] After thorough study and years of analysis, you are finally ready to address the Embassy in order to persuade them to make official first contact with "Earth".	[ "\"My proud colleges. Today is a historic day. For years we have studied the first sentient race descended from primates. For years we have watched them pollute their pristine world. Many of our own cultures did the same in millennial past. What is different about this species is that even with the vast majority of their scientists telling them that they are causing irreparable damage to their only world, they still run headlong towards the end of their world. They draw poisons out from the ground to fill the air and water. Where as even the violent Gargrothans never used atomics against each other, these hairless apes have done so twice. In fact, for decades the two super powers kept thousands pointed at each other.\n\nThese facts seem damning. They paint a picture of a species beyond redemption. However, there is hope. We have examples of their children standing up to religious fanatics, demanding education. We have their great authors of non violent protest. I challenge any Ilsif to show a more admirable attempt to get equal rights than the one they call Martin King Luther Junior. I challenge any follower of Zangzee the Peaceful to find flaws with their Buddhist religion.\n\nIn short, my honored brethren, they have many flaws. These are more than offset by the good they bring. If for no other reason, I argue for Earth's immediate entry into the Galactic Senate so that we may not lose their next Gandhi, or their next Bach.\"\n\nedit=spelling", "\"High Council, I come to you today to plead that we save the human race. They are the first species to accomplish what they have in the time they did it. 60 Earth years after they created their first flying vehicle, they made it into space. In 10,000 Earth years, they went from the Stone Age to the Nuclear Age. It took our species 100,000 to split the atom after we discovered fire.\n\nThey may be dangerous, but they are special. They will die without us. The nuclear age is reached in at least 200,000 Earth years by a normal type 1 civilization. They are not prepared for the power they have unveiled. That species has not evolved to that point yet.\n\nThe humans have already used nuclear weapons against each other once. If we allow it to happen again, it will be the end.\n\nI beg of you, High Council, see that they may be the ones to save us in the end. Humanity has survived what would kill us. They can fix what will kill us. We can guide them through the stars and they shall open doors to worlds we have never seen.\"\n\n\n", "\"Do not.\" \n\nThe committee's president stared at me, confused. \"I must surely have misheard you, Knowledge-Seeker\", it started. \"The translating SI must have a malfunction, again.\" It meticulously re-arranged its blue garments and quickly tapped on its soft-screen. Deleting the proceeding's past two minutes, no doubt. \"Let's try this again, shall we? I remind all attendees that everything is recorded unaltered to the benefit of our members' citizens.\" It did not even wheeze at that blatant lie, impressive. Nevertheless, the president and other high-ranking members of the committee were clearly becoming nervous, as corrupt bureaucrats tend to do when an underling does not play its part in public. Or whatever idea of public was fed to the actual one. \n\nSetting its gaze on me again, the president began a new take. \"Knowledge-Seeker, please answer the following question to your full ability as a citizen of the Kalaan Commonality and a Knowledge-Seeker of the Embassy as defined under the Accord To Establish An Embassy Of Species. Should the Embassy open first contact procedures with the inhabitants of S0131-Q7899-A1228-0003?\" Positive framing, brilliant. If you were talking to an infant. \n\nI sighed internally and moved forward in my seat ever so slightly. Making sure to speak slowly, I worsened the day for everyone involved: \"As stated beforehand, I recommend against first contact\". My voice never faltered as a comittee filled with officials who could make or break a seeker's career erupted in exasperated clicks, vile stenches and angry glares, all directed at my person. I was under no illusions as to what that meant for my future studies.\n\n\"Order! Order! Please, let us all calm down.\" The president fiddled with some of its head gear until the hubbub died down, then inspected me with icy contempt. \"It seems that the translating SI has a glitch in our general area. This committee is adjourned until three cycles from now.\" A very particular glitch, it seemed indeed. Sensing that I had successfully disrupted the Metakka schedules of all the administrators sufficiently wealthy and well-connected to purchse it from the grey market - a worthy day's deed in of itself - I headed to my personal accomodations. \n\nThe real argument was about to start.\n\n-----\n\nEven before I arrived, I could smell Irthana. Beautiful, lovely Irthana who had taken one look at me, then decided to take that fool of an energy broker for her partner. There were some positive aspects to my situation, however. For one, she was now in my accomodations, something that had never happened before. Furthermore, her body and face was unmistakingly close to mine, radiating hot agitation. The visit was not for pleasure, sadly.\n\nThe fact that she was not even screaming was worse than her obvious anger: \"Are you mad? I will not be angry at you if you are mad. What else could have made you change your mind and break the agreement we had? You know that all of this\" - she visibly tried to control her rage, how adorable - \"all of this will fall back at the whole research group? Now, for Mr. I-graduated-with-distinction-before-my-seeding-was-complete\", jabbing her claws into my sternum to accentuate her description of my intellectual prowess, \"this might not be a problem, but some of us have infants to support and not quite given up on a fellowship.\"\n\nFaced with such a convincing assault on my character, only the first to come in the next weeks for sure, I ignored her, pushing her out of the way while she looked on with incredulity. \"One water, slightly salted, please\", I commanded my SI. \"You want something?\", I asked her. Interestingly, that did not calm down the situation. Thus, I drank my fill while the woman I still loved equalised her emotional state by demolished my furniture.\n\nHalf way through my third bowl, she began to slow down. \"I have my reasons.\", I began. As expected, this was met with sarcastic laughter on Irthana's part. \"Oh yes, you do, don't you? Showing those 'corrupted bureaucrats' the errors of their ways? Grow the fuck up, will you?\". I did not admit that it had been a thrill to reverse the power structure and be the one to annoy the Embassy's paper-pushers for once, nor did I need to. She knew me well enough and there were more pressing matters at stake.\n\nI carried on, controlling my voice. 'Terrified' was not something I wanted her to associate with me. \"We were sabotaged. Our data were correct but .. somebody managed to slip a mutation into our simulation's core.\" That did get her attention. I was certain it could not be her, simply because she took too much pride in her scientific integrity. \"Irthana, you know what that means, right? There's only three of us who would have been able to alter the simulation at that stage. We both know Garrth needs this.\" \n\nShe shook her head. She also sat down, which means that I had her ear. For now. After a brief moment of consideration, she decided that I was full of shit. \"Shut up. Please, just. What are his motives?\" She looked at me, and I merely shrugged. At that point, she knew damn well what I suspected. \"Wait, you are going to tell me he was paid to do it, preferably by some of the corps who would wish to expand their market. Correct?\" \n\nI emptied my bowl before responding, looking at her. \"Who else? Who else would be so fundamentally misguided as to hide this.\" At that cue, I clicked my claws. Nothing happened. Irthana just sat there, serving annoyed commentary: \"You always forget to condition the SI, idiot.\" Thankfully, she did not say more to embarass me further. I opted for the manual approach, commanding the SI to turn down the lighting and open the datapad on the still intact table.\n\nWhat emerged was a three-dimensional graphic describing the various projections for stellar civilisatory development in the case of first contact with 0003. All of them looked rather tame and predicted more or less smoothless integration within 0.0013 galactic rotations. Unfortunately, those were the results from our sabotaged simulation. Irthana was clearly expecting more. I was about to deliver: \"SI, now overlay this with the data from this morning's simulation.\" \n\nThe picture that emerged was in stark contrast to its peaceful predecessor. With the exception of a handful of paths, every single one ended in war, destruction and civilisatory downfall, temporary at best. Were it was temporary, it ended in military, economic and cultural dominance by derived species from 0003's original dominant one. It was, quite frankly, something that had never hapened before.\n\n----\n\nIrthana's first reaction was, understandably, disbelief. I let her deal with it her own way. She had full access to the simulation, both pre- and post-mutation. Disbelief slowly turned into terror and confusion. After several hours her own understanding had been reduced to the single question that had cost me a few months' sleep until I myself could conjure up some kind of explanation. \n\n\"Why?\"\n\nI had dozed off at some point, so she shook me awake and asked again: \"Why should it happen? I understand the 'How'-part. What in the original data will make them act in such a way?\" I needed some time to catch my bearings. She continued to speak her mind. \"It is simply not possible, yet the simulation is correct. There are no mistakes! That species is entirely normal, above average in some respects, below average in others. This is a cosmic joke, for sure.\"\n\nAs the designated team genius, I of course had something resembling an answer. \"I believe it to be rather simple. 0003's dominant species is insane. Now, don't look at me like that. Insanity is a relative concept, they themselves will feel quite normal I'm certain. Irthana, they have developed the first generation of compact fusion reactors and yet we estimate that 90% or more of their system's population believe that this universe was in some form or the other created for their species.\" \n\nI continued. \"Not their planet, the entire universe. Not the average .5-1% of lunatics, 90+%! To be sane there is to be insane. Quite a large part of them even believe that they themselves, as individuals, are part of a larger cosmic plan, even though every single shred of evidence points to the contrary. If you want the 'Why', explain to me how this walking contradiction of our theory on civilisatory progression can even exist?\"\n\nI forced myself to remain calm. My voice had began to quaver in the end. It was serious, very serious. \"We cannot say if this is a glitch in their biology or social memetics, but it is entirely unprecedented. They even imprint this on their primtive SIs and call it a quality that makes them 'themselves'.\" Irthana just sat there, silently. I laughed in desperation, then continued in a whisper. \"Can you imagine? An entire species who might be genetically disposed to believe they are the sole reason for existence itself and everyone in it?\". She did not answer, clearly uncomfortable with the implications. \n\nAt last, she spoke up, turning her gaze on me. I nearly forgot my fear for an instant. \"Then this\", she pointed to the graphics, \"is what will happen when such a species is confronted with living evidence that they are in no measurable way special?\" I agreed. \"Precisely. When such madness is confronted with a mirror, it will attempt to break the mirror. That species might not be special, but their ego demands it. In their own way, it will be a fight for self-preservation.\" \n\nIrthana smirked. \"They will lose themselves in order to prove themselves. Dramatic alteration of their genetic baseline, splintering of their species genetic's coherence, cybernetic psychosis elevated to a societal level, SI-organic fusion. They will do anything to gain an edge.\" My feathers ruffled and stood up, involuntarily. \"Yes, Irthana. We will be nothing more but obstacles to be overcome.\" I sighed and looked at the graphic. \"As we can see, they will most likely do so.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Pro: You've discovered you respawn any time you die. Con: You discovered this after the apocalypse.	[ "Death log:\n\nApril 24 2145: Today was hanging. I used a 3/4 inch juniper rope with a traditional hangmans knot. the tree was 200ft above sea level and the branch was in a northwest direction. At what I can only assume was 1:45pm central time I stood upon a 16in stool and put the rope about my neck. I then kicked the stool out from under me. Like so many times before it didn't hurt too much just a slight snap. The worst part is the actually getting the dying done. Luckily this time I was able to die within 15 minutes. Nothing like the coma of cliff jumping. Maybe tomorrow I will have better luck and be able to really die.\n\n\"Well..another day... Another death. This is what I get for somehow becoming immortal. God I miss Janice. How I would give up anything to talk to you again.\"\n\nThe strange mans dog walks up to him while he is closing his 6th journal of deaths. \n\n\"Hey Rena! How many years has it been? How many times have I died? I am growing tired of this dance. Why is it that I survived the apocalypses and everyone else is gone. Its not like they died even... They are just gone...sigh...\"\n\n\"Arf\" Rena nuzzles his hand hoping for a treat\n\n\"I'm sorry Rena...I am out of treats tonight but I do have a nice squirrel here for you. Who would have thought that humanity would just disappear. No die off or kill each other but just disappear. \" \n\nReaching for his journal, the original that he started the night it all changed. \n\n\"That night everything changed...Janice... I shouldn't have been drinking. We shouldn't have gone to that party. I was much too drunk to drive. I...m sorry. That was the first time it happened. The first time I came back. How that was a shocker, but at the same time it was more shocking to have woken up in the car completely whole with no one there. Calling 911 just came up with that same message of \"we are experiencing technical difficult we apologize. \"\n\nSuddenly his old cell phone begins to ring. Too shocked to answer it he sits there staring at it. It beeps for the voicemail and then a second beep occurs in a text message. He slowly picks up the phone and looks at it.\n\n1 unread message\n\n1 missed call\n\n>blocked number\nHi! I see you managed to survive too! I hope you are well! You can meet me if you want at the usual spot. I will be there all week\n\n\"What? What usual spot? Where? Who is this????\" Frantically he tries calling back but it goes straight to the carrier signal saying we are experiencing technical difficulties please call back later. \n\n\"OH MY GOD! I missed it the one chance I had at maybe seeing another human! Who was it... What did they want?\" \n\n15-20 minutes go by \n\nRING! \n\nThis time he was ready. He answered the phone. On the other end was a screeching noise then a voice came over \n\n\"Hello? Hello?\"\n\n\"Yes, hello!\"\n\n\"Where are you? Why didn't you meet me here? When the apocalypse happened we promised to meet each other here.\" \n\n\"Where is here? Who are you? Are you real?\"\n\n\"Here is the third planet from sol, My name is benny, and of course I am real\"\n\n\"Benny? you mean the imaginary friend I had in grade school...I gotta be imagining this then...\"\n\n\"I was not imaginary I just happened to fall into a coma. No one visited me. I was so alone, I had hoped that you would at least remember we promised to meet on the hill off of brandy lane and we would conquer the apocalypse together. \"\n\n\"I'm sorry...I ...I...forgot, I didn't ever think about it. That was so many years ago...\"\n\n\"Well? Will you come meet me? I have something to show you\"\n\n\"I can be there in about an hour, I need some time to think first\"\n\n1 hour goes by \n\nThe silhouette of benny is against the falling sun. \n\n\"Hey! James! up here! isn't it beautiful!\"\n\nJames walks up slowly with Rena at his side\n\n\"I believe it is a wonderful sight, benny to finally have someone to talk to after all these years. Why did you only now contact me? Why did you wait so long?\"\n\n\"Because I only awoke this morning, I couldn't contact you before now. I hope you didn't hurt yourself earlier...\"\n\n\"What?!? what do you mean???\"\n\n\"I mean when you tried to kill yourself. I know its lonely but that should not be your resort, I am glad to see you didn't finish it up.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? I cant die I have killed myself so many times I have journals upon journals of how I died and the sensations of the death. I would argue that in-fact if any humans are still alive, I would be an expert on how to kill someone with the least amount of pain. Or as society would have put it humanely. I think the best part is I get to wake up every time in my bed.\" He throws his many journals on the ground.\n\n\"you're lying James, no one can respawn...\"\n\n\"I will prove it!\" He pulls out a revolver and before benny can act he shoots himself in the head. Unfortunately he manages to only hit most of his higher brain functions and so he is still alive. Benny grabs him and screams. Benny seeing he is still alive takes him to the hospital and begins to care for him. Benny is only in his twenty's and utilizing the limited knowledge he has care for him. The journals are the only thing benny has to keep him company and so he reads them, but to him they make no sense. They read like the ravings of a mad man. \n\nAll the while James is sitting in the bed day after day, week after week, year after year waiting to return to his bed to begin anew. This time he really would go insane, just watching benny sit there feeding him...", "Another empty shop. \nWell, not quite empty. If you counted a few mouldy loaves of bread long inedible and some dodgy water. \nFor me though, I'd say it's empty. \nThe next one though, I wish it could have been empty. A paranoid scavenger, someone who could have been just like me, except they decided I was a threat, and pulled out their gun faster.\nDying sucks arse. I get all the pain and suffering, but no release. I gradually float off until I feel nothing any more, then just wake up somewhere else. I'm just as hungry as I was when I died, thats as tired, but no gunshot wounds though. That's how I reckon that someone, somehow is fucking with me. It's just too perfect, you know? As if someone decided it all.\nNot that it matters besides keeping my mind occupied when I'm bored. I've got nothing to live for but eating, otherwise it starts to get uncomfortable and eventually hurt. Hunger is an awful thing. I'm not sure if it could kill me, first if all I'd torture myself getting there, mans second of all, had much as I might bitch about it, I kind of want to stay alive. " ]	2
	[WP] You’re a mermaid whose been told never to enter the Bermuda Triangle.	[ "Kicking her tail harder, Pasha surges forward through the water. She can only hope that she doesn’t disturb anyone nearby. The rules continue flowing through her mind. First, never stray too close to the humans and the shore. Second, don’t approach the boats, no matter how easy the bait might be. Third, never enter the Bermuda Triangle. \n\nThe first two Pasha understood. They made sense to her. But the Bermuda Triangle being off limits made little sense to her. It was part of the ocean and quite a deep part. As long as you stayed away from the human island in the middle of it, it should certainly be safe. The area is definitely large enough that human ships shouldn’t be of any concern. \n\nPasha glances back, carefully measuring a little more distance. Her home isn’t truly that far from the Triangle, which is why it’s a rule. All mermaids are aware of the rule, as she’d learned on a recent trip. It had definitely piqued her interest, leading to this little trip when no one would be looking. \n\nShe kicks a few more times, safely out of the small village they’ve set up. No one would notice now. Maybe a little wake for those closest, but not anything more than that. Continuing out, she feels the currents overtaking her, pushing her in certain directions. It’d at least be easy to come home, she could just ride the current. As it is, she’s fighting it to get along on her way. \n\nIt takes longer than she would’ve liked, but she manages to get across the current. She gets all the way to the edge of the Triangle. Even the humans avoided the place for reasons that Pasha couldn’t understand. Maybe it’s some of the same reasoning behind why the mermaids avoided the place. \n\nShe follows the line for a short time, swimming down to inspect it further. Many, many years before, as the story said, the mermaids had put the line here, each corner marked with a large rock. Her large eyes look through the dark to focus on what might be on the other side of the line. She can see nothing strange however, nothing until it becomes murky. \n\nGathering her confidence, Pasha swims across the line into the Triangle. She feels no different, glancing back at the line. She continues deeper into the Triangle with much less concern, looping through the water. It feels like she’s swimming through uncharted territory, something extremely exciting to her. She has a smile on her face. \n\nHowever, the water begins to grow murky. Murkier than it should be, becoming that way much, much quicker than it should have been. Pasha pauses before starting to turn around. The way back looks no different however, in fact, it looks even darker. Her infallible sense of direction tells her all she needs to know, that the way back home is that way. \n\n“What a pretty little mermaid.” The growling voice sends a shiver up her spine, making her kick harder to swim faster. She’s certain she had never heard any of the other undersea life speak before but she doesn’t want to look at what could be speaking. \n\nSomething slams into her, things wrapping around her, making her scream. She pulls, fighting, attempting to get free. There are things around her. Things that she can put no known name to, no title, no words. Tearing at her flesh, she screams as blood spills into water. Horrifying laughter rattles her senses. She claws at the ground, kicking hard with her tail. Something slips. \n\nPasha is out like a shot, swimming as hard and fast as she can. Streaks of blood follow her through the water like ribbons. She uses the current to get home faster, fleeing in blind terror. Someone grasps her, making her freak out, swinging wildly at them. \n\n“Pasha, Pasha, calm.” She trembles, finally recognizing her father’s voice. “What is this—What have you done?” His voice goes from concerned to horrified. \n\n“I—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I just—I’m sorry.” \n\n“Pasha.” His grip becomes painful. “You’ve loosed them on the whole world. What have you done? You were told not to go there.” Her eyes dart from his gills to his large eyes, each word moving his gills to reveal the sharp-toothed mouth. \n\n“I—I didn’t… I didn’t…” The murk. From here, she can see it starting to spread. Her father follows her gaze. There is silence for a long time. \n\n“Go home.” Her father’s expression is grim. “Go home. We must prepare.” \n\nPasha can only nod, fleeing towards her home. The darkness spreads far behind her, the bounds of the Bermuda Triangle no longer binding the creatures within. ", "It was a dark and stormy night. \n“But Daddy! Why can’t I go?” I asked my father, throwing myself down at his fins. \n“That’s enough Demelza! I’ve told you before, the Bermuda Triangle is forbidden. Too many of our people have gone and never come back. I was lucky to escape myself.” He swam in a circle to leave the cove. “And don’t let me hear you talking about this again.” \nI screamed after him as he left. I was so angry that I thought the water around me was about to boil. That was it, I was sick of him treating me like a child. I went to my chest and took out all the doubloons I had been saving up, and swam out of the cove’s back-chasm. \nI caught a ride on the first whale out of Atlantis. There were a few shady customers on board; a gummy hammerhead shark and a pufferfish who looked like he had done too much blow. I fell asleep in my chair and woke up to the whale bellowing in his booming voice. \n“All off for the Bermuda Triangle!” \n\nI flittered up from my chair and swum off of the whale, and onto the Bermuda Triangle, excited to explore everything Daddy had forbidden. Walking down the street I saw dozens of low-down dive bars full of drunken fish who couldn’t swim straight. \nAt the end of the road was a magnificent building. Towering above anything else with red lights pouring off of it. A massive neon mermaid was slapped on the front, seductively waving in the clicky way neon lights do. Also in neon was a flashing sign reading \"MAIDS! MAIDS! MAIDS!\". Below all of this was the name of the establishment.\n \nTHE MARLIN ROUGE\n", "\"Girl, you are either very brave or very foolish.\"\n\n\".....\"\n\n\"Shark got your tongue?\" \n\n\"You have legs.\" \n\n\"Really? I hadn't noticed.\"\n\n\"But you have gills.\"\n\n\"It would be difficult to survive underwater otherwise.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I should be asking you that, girl.\"\n\n\"My name is Elena.\"\n\n\"As you wish, Elena. Now tell me. Why are you inside the Triangle?\" \n\n\"Because my parents and everyone else told me not to come here.\"\n\n\"So you came to the most dangerous place in the seven seas because you're stubborn?\"\n\n\"I haven't seen anything dangerous. Creepy maybe, but not dangerous. This place is beautiful in a thousands-of-people-have-died-here sort of way.\"\n\n\"Beautiful....are we speaking of the same place?\"\n\n\"There are centuries of history here.\"\n\n\"Centuries of death and destruction as well, Elena.\"\n\n\"I admitted it was creepy.\"\n\n\"So you did.\"\n\n\".....\"\n\n\"Speak your question.\"\n\n\"How do you survive down here with legs? They're so slow.\"\n\n\"You meet a strange man in a forbidden area and you're worried about how I survive?\"\n\n\"I am. Do you have a problem with that?\"\n\n\".....I survive, I'll leave it at that.\"\n\n\"And what is that you carry? Some sort of harpoon?\"\n\n\"Close, it is a trident.\"\n\n\"What is it for?\"\n\n\"Hunting, among other uses.\"\n\n\"Has anyone ever told you that the Mr. Mysterious approach is annoying?\"\n\n\"No. I don't get many visitors. Stop frowning, you've obviously come to the conclusion that I live here.\"\n\n\"I figured. So how about a tour?\"\n\n\"A tour?\"\n\n\"You know, show me around. Explain the sights. That kind of thing.\"\n\n\"What if I mean you harm? You don't know me.\"\n\n\"Please. I had no idea you were here until you introduced yourself.\"\n\n\"A tour it is then.\"\n\n\"Wait, I still don't know your name.\"\n\n\"My brothers call me Poseidon.\"" ]	3
	[WP] 80% of people have superpowers, 19% don't. You are in the 1%	[ "Their all over the news. These people with super-powers. You'd think we lived in a fictional world or something. The statistics say about 3/4 of us have them. Less than a quarter of us don't. Then there's the mystical number in between. No-one knows what we can do. \n\nNo-one really cares. \n\nDifferent equals bad right? \n\nThey just shove us in a cell and hope to hell we don't mutate powers. It'd only happened \"a couple times.\" So they say. I've been here years. It happens to almost everyone. Everyone except me. \n\nI was nearing on my 21st birthday. They told me it was when they'd let me go. I didn't hold out much hope of that though. Figured I'd write this instead....\n\nRight, right. I'm getting off track. I guess I should say hello, new roommate. Or, if I'm not here, then look under my mattress in the right corner. I hoarded some snacks from home. It'll make you feel a little less lonely......\n\nAnyways, you wanna know more about this place right? Wrong. You don't wanna know nothing' kid. Listen here and listen well; play dumb. No matter if you damn well develop the ability to melt walls. Pretend your nothing. Do your time. It's better than what they do to everyone else.....", "\"Nothing registers... DNA tests are negative. Psychic tests are negative. No cybernetics or nanotech. And exhaustive magical screens revealed nothing.\"\n\n\"So he has no super powers what so ever. He's just a normal human?\"\n\n\"By our tests... Yes.\"\n\n\"Then, I guess... He isn't the one that defeated that intergalactic space monster?\"\n\n\"How do you explain the video?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\"\n\n\nI really do pity those scientists. They definitely have some super-intelligence and other abilities, but as usual nothing shows up. Hundreds of years of test development for superpowers and not one of them can detect my abilities. In fact, they'd probably wouldn't believe I'm hearing them from four rooms away while in this supposedly soundproof test chamber. Oh well, I've come to accept and love this strange quirk of mine. Ah, one of them is coming by... Get the feeling to release me. She seems so defeated. I'll compliment on her glasses, maybe that'll brighten her day.\n\nThe door opens to the test chamber and a mousey looking scientist with short red hair comes in, \"If you can come with me, I'll lead you out.\"\n\nI stand up from the solitary chair in the test chamber, \"Did you guys find anything?\"\n\nShe momentarily looks down at her clipboard, even though she knows the answer and replies a bit saddened, \"Uhh... No. None at all.\"\n\nI shrug, put a smile on my face while walking her direction, \"So, I'm the same guy I was yesterday! Good to know.\"\n\nShe leads me out of the room and directs me towards the end of the hall. I walk casually with my bright orange Hawaiian shirt flowing freely over my favorite One Punch Man t-shirt. After closing the door, the scientist quickly appears right next to me. Teleporter. Wait... No... That's not it... AH! Super-ridiculous speed it seems like teleportation. Neat!\n\n\"I'm really sorry we've kept you so long this time.\"\n\n\"Ah, it's okay. It's a really nice facility you all have here. I never got to see more than the initial testing areas when I young, the expansions you've put in are amazing!\"\n\n\"Well, testing for superpowers is quite a necessity in society.\"\n\n\"I bet. So much requires them these days. And the requirement levels keep on getting higher.\"\n\nI sense something strange. It's from her... Her gaze. Those deep green eyes are intensely scanning me. I bet she has some super-sight or something like that. I met her gaze, I don't think she's quite realized I'm looking back at her. I start checking my face with my hand, \"Oh? Do I have something on my face? Something in the teeth? I had a spinach wrap for lunch, I bet something is stuck in there-\"\n\nShe blinks and realizes she's been staring, and immediately turns her head away and forward. I can see a flush of pink in cheeks. \"I- uh- y-y-you got it out.\"\n\n\"Ha, thanks.\"\n\nIt's a quiet for a few moments as she regains her composure.\n\n\"Are you certain there was no one else around the crash site?\"\n\n\"Ummm... Yes. At least no one else I could see. Sorry, I don't know any more. It was just me and whatever that thing was from all I know.\"\n\n\"It's okay. We've just been having someone going around defeating monsters and saving people... But we've never been able to find them... And you seem to be around these places more often that not.\"\n\nI could feel that strange sensation again. I briefly glance over, \"I couldn't help but to notice, but those glasses really compliment your eyes.\"\n\nAnother quick blink from her and she snaps her head back forward. This time she's flushed a nearly glowing red.\n\nWe finally get out the front door and she's walked me up to the sidewalk right outside the gates.\n\n\"Well, Mr. Madison. The Organization appreciates your cooperativeness in helping us figure out these strange incidents.\"\n\nI smile and chuckle, \"Well, hopefully I stop having such horrible luck in being these situations. It's nice to see everyone, but I'd really like to meet in nicer circumstances-\"\n\nA loud tumbling crash interrupts as sedan rolls into the air, right at Mr. Madison and the scientist.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nShe looks at the sedan and her mind races. The world slows down to a near standstill. The sedan is coming right at them. She lets go of her clipboard and it slowly descends as gravity acts upon it. Both arms wrap around Mr. Madison and she powers him out of the path of the sedan. She may not have super-strength, but fitness facilities at the Organization test facilities are rival to none and free access to employees. After what is mere moments to her and a fraction of a second to others, she's cleared the path of airborne sedan-\n\nHer arms momentarily move and something slips out of them. She feels nothing. She feels she's grabbing onto... Air? A glance still shows Mr. Madison being pulled along looking towards something- Is he becoming transparent?! What is he looking at- OH NO!\n\nShe looks in front of the path of the sedan and sees bystanders just now trying to react to the car about to hit them- Did it just jump back into the air?! \n\nThe sedan pitches back up into the air and is now on a path to go safely over the bystanders and land into empty roadway. She studies this... And as the scene slowly progresses, a faint bright orange trail leaves her going to the point where the car sharply pitched up, and then the trails goes too... The villain who threw it?! The villain for some reason is flying backwards with his face contorting from something smacking him- WHAT THE HELL?! For a brief moment she swears Mr. Madison in her arms is almost transparent and her arms are going through him?!\n\nThen, Mr. Madison returns to full opacity, her arms shake a bit. Then for a few more moments the odd blur around Mr. Madison dissipates.\n\nHer mind slows back down and the world goes back to full speed. The sedan bounces over the bystanders and safely lands. The villain spins backwards onto the pavement, completely knocked out, much to the surprise and shock of the heroes who were fighting him. They can only look at each other in confusion at why the villain is now sprawled out, unconscious on the ground. She feels that Mr. Madison has regained his footing and she lets go of him.\n\nHe looks around at the scene, \"Wow! You got me clear of that in a hurry! That was amazing! Do you have super-strength or something?! I mean, I'm not exactly light and all-\"\n\nShe holds back the urge to use her enhanced sight on Mr. Madison. He's being nice and complimenting. A sly smirk grows on her face, and she reaches into her lab coat's front pocket to pull out one of her business cards, along with a pen. She turns over to the blank side and writes something quickly.\n\nShe presents the business side of the card to Mr. Madison, \"As usual, Mr. Madison, here's my business card should you need to report anything more...\"\n\nHe reaches to take it... \"Well, Ms. McMalloy, I will definitely-\"\n\nShe flips the card over, \"And if you'd like to meet in better circumstances, here's my contact information.\"\n\nMr. Madison's freezes mid grab. Ms. McMalloy calmly places the card between his fingers, and closes them onto the card. She confidently walks around to the side of him, \"Oh, you can call me by my middle name Cynthia.\"\n\nCynthia looks over at the stunned look on Mr. Madison's face, as he blushes and seems to be at a complete loss to react. The sly smirk grows to a devilish grin.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBy the time I regained my senses, she was well inside Organization's facility and I'm standing in the middle of the street. Despite all the activity around me, I could only look at the business card with Cynthia's personal phone number and e-mail address.\n\n\"Huh...\"\n", "It was weird growing up as me. Most of my friends developed powers of some sort, most of them being rather lame and not that useful powers, and a couple not even developing powers at all. Almost all of them though went on to live very ordinary lives. I mean, when 4/5 of your class has some sort of superability, it isn't really special, you know?\n\nBut I wish things were simple for me. I didn't really develop superpowers, but I wasn't a 'normal'. I didn't really get the ability to do any one thing really well. If anything, it was a surprise that I didn't get ostracised as a kid the moment it started developing. I'm lucky I had such good friends to keep me sane through my childhood.\n\nAs an adult, I'm barred from a lot of places. I can't go to superhero competitions or events, I have to do my shopping at night or online to avoid causing problems at the mall, hell, even going to a restaurant is a stressful endeavour. Even though most people who have superpowers live ordinary lives just like me and you, they tend to be quite attached to their abilities.\n\nYou see, I don't have a 'superpower' in the sense I can go fast, have super strength, or the multitudes of different abilities as diverse and unique as there are grains of sand on a beach. I don't really do anything, it isn't something I can will or control like a superpower. Simply put, superpowers simply fail to work around me. Doesn't matter how strong you are or how well atuned to your abilities you are, they plain don't work around me.\n\nFor the most part though, the range of this effect is limited, but to those who aren't used to not having their powers, it seems to put them into shock every time. As if someone cut their arm off and they no longer have control over a limb they took for granted. And it has been the bane of my social life ever since I went to university, away from my friends for the first time.\n\nBut it hasn't been all that bad. Despite certain inconveniences, I have found a calling of my own. Turns out in a particular area, something like my abilities are highly sought after, so much so I get paid twice that over other employees, as a starting wage. You see, with 4/5 of the population with superpowers, statistically speaking, you are going to get quite a few bad apples with powers. And a prison guard like me is what keeps a lot of them from being able to escape the justice system.\n\nOf course, no one needs superpowers to kill me. A knife in the back or a bullet to the head are pretty effective. But the anti-power effect doesn't diminish in strength when I'm unconscious, and they reckon it'll persist even when I'm dead. Not many get requests from prisons to claim your cadaver after your death just so they can build the strongest containment cells for particularly troublesome criminals.\n\nSo, that's what it means to be me. A one-man, mobile and living safety zone. My name is Paul, by the way, and for your sake, just be sure not to get too close to me. Not if you value having your superpowers." ]	3
	[WP] You're the only human left on a world full of supernatural creatures.	[ "It began with the zombies. Hell was full up and the souls came back to their bodies. Resistance gathered, but I was too scared to fight the menace. Millions died, and thousands turned.\n\nSoon after all manner of monsters began to inhabit the Earth. Demons and vampires roamed the street, searching for prey. But the demons only hunted true believers and vampires only hunted the beautiful, and I was neither, so I did not offer my help to those in need.\n\nNow I live among the ghosts of the old world. Empty skyscrapers, metal monuments to those who once inhabited them. I find myself surrounded by the spirits of those who can not move on, they call me a coward, and I am scared.\n\nThe vampires want blood and the demons want souls, and I'm the only human left.\n\n-----------\n\n[Click here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Wrobbing/) to see all of my short stories written for /r/writingprompts, and more!\n", "I plopped the frozen goat thighs on the counter \"How's it goin?\" I said, digging out my wallet. The shop keeper nodded, but stopped, noticing something in my face. \n\nshit. I left the pointy teeth in. \n\n\"...And, uh, your cheapest blood packet. The frozen goat's for... my wife. She's a troll.\"\n\nThe shopkeeper reached under the counter, pulling out a small red bag \"You won't get any trouble from me. I may be old, but I'm not old fashioned. I think it's a brave thing you two did.\" he said with a nod. \"I've got an import that's twelve bucks a pint. But I've got a sale on Red X. Twenty-two for a pint if you want American?\" he gestured to the rack holding red, white, and blue packages.\n\n\"The, uh.. The import, please. Wife wants me to cut back on the cholesterol.\"\n\nThe Minotaur grunted and sacked the groceries.\n\nI paid and left the store with my haunches. Two blocks later, I approached the cobblestone bridge to my neighborhood. The instant my foot touched the incline, a squat, brown thing climbed over the edge of the bridge.\n\n\"Who goes there?!\"\n\n\"Vampire\" I said, and smiled to show my teeth. \n\n\"ah, well, there be a toll to cross my -\"\n\nI tossed it one of the goat haunches, and it reluctantly ambled over the edge of the bridge - perhaps disappointed I didn't listen to his whole bit.\n\nI crossed the stream into the gated community. I'd gotten word that giants had taken up in some of the larger mansions in the area. Most creatures keep their distance from giants, so as long as I stayed out of the foyer, most of the rooms on the ground floor were a nice, safe place to crash. And with Giants - as long as you aren't English, they really don't seem to mind you. \n\nI made it in through one of the servant's doors and crept through the darkened kitchen to a smaller, but richly furnished bedroom. I plopped the grocery bag on the bed and kicked my shoes off. Then I heard it. The ground shook slightly and a voice like James Earl Jones bellowed to the rest of the neighborhood \"Fee Fi! Fo Fum, Get over here! I smell the blood of an Englishman!\"\n\nI froze. I fished the blood bag out of the grocery sack and flipped it over. \n\n'Made in Britain.' \n\nShit.", "Balance: a concept passed around like bad wine and spoken of only on the tail end of joke. Even at that, it seemed like victory had become practical for a brief snippet of history. Like the fists of men had grown faster than the claw of beasts. So it begins, they say. The living begin and end, two legged or not. A tale begins and ends, a middle and plot. Though tragic it seems that when we speak of an event, its beginning, we are more concerned with the ends. \n\nThe end of humanity on this sphere began when they began to gain ground. After that they gained the seas, and after that they gained the skies. But before all of that, we were right. Right in our wars, and right in our methods. There was no competition when fist met claw, flesh tore quickly and without complaint. But when we mastered the metal, yes, that manna of the earth, we realized, perhaps too quickly, that under the right force, claw could tear just as easily as flesh. \n\nNow there was aim in our fear and led away from the cavernous depths from which we hid; pointing, quite poetically and quite literally, towards the light beyond the tunnel. We emerged, us...man, onwards into the fray of the wild. We warriors, we bearers, we angels! Feathered in polished manna and praying only for more killing fields. We overcame and for many turns of the sphere, it was good. \n\nOur god was fear, his spirit invention, and its word was law. But we had forgotten this and in time we spread with unfortunate speed and unforgiving ideals. We could not comprehend that out there, beyond the bile soaked lands on which we settled, were creatures far beyond our ability. The few, the brave who braved to explore need not return. \n\nNay, they could not return for out there, tickling among our borders, our metal no longer enforced the law. We had become subject to it once more. And there should be no need for me to tell you what powers grew while we sowed the wrong crops. We now hear mention every day of another method of their madness. \n\nYoung men and women whose skulls are crushed by a single hand. Their bodies manipulated and stretched apart mid-air by invisible forces. Organs pierced by curse tipped projectiles that eat through metal at any range. Souls smuggled straight from the body without notice. Minds overtaken by bewitchery. Mobile corpses that smile when struck by a blade.\n\nThese are an inkling of the horrors I have been tasked to document. There are so many and yet so few of us left. We fight. The old with their might and the youth with their minds for fear continues to guide us. As it should. I am too weak to carry a gun and too old to read a screen and though I fear I may one day wake up alone in these depths, I know that these last angels among me, will carry our plight to the heavens. ", "Genetics are such a strange thing, such a bizarre coincidence of DNA and traits. Take me for example. I have a very unique genome. Immutable, my doctor calls it. Apparently that means that even when bitten by a vampire, attacked by a werewolf, or even cursed by magic, I remain human. Stubbornly so, in fact. I'm nearly 1400 years old, yet another strange trait of my immutable genome. My cells replicate perfectly, giving me a theoretical immortality and I don't really get sick. Like I said, genetics are funny. When I was born, I remember being treated as a freak, someone strange and different. My doctors took a lot of blood and tissue samples, and I remember spending a lot of time with needles in me. Then of course, came the Upheaval.\n\nIt started about fifty years after I was born, and it continued for nearly three centuries. Mankind slowly went extinct, our place taken by the supernatural creatures of legends. No one really knows how it started, but it began in Europe. Vampires and Werewolves emerged and began killing and turning everyone they could find. Then came the Fomor, the Seelie and Unseelie, and all the other Gloaming creatures. By the end, every human had been turned or killed, except one. I was kept as a science experiment by one of the vampire lords, a man named Kristoff, who continually subjected me to new methods of turning me. He was actually pretty chill about the whole thing, going out of his way to make sure that I wasn't harmed by his experiments. \n\nKristoff had enemies though, and eventually he was killed, his household liberated. Thinking I was one of his house, I was cast out into the world, the last human left. Finding a job was easy, since the majority of the new species were nocturnal, jobs that needed to be done throughout the day were in high supply. I work as a solar panel tech, keeping a massive farm of panels working for the Unseelie Court. They could handle the day, but they preferred the night, and they hated iron and steel, meaning it was difficult for them to manage their solar farms. Enter me, their werewolf tech. I'm not really a werewolf, but it means I get a three day paid vacation every month at the full moon, a vacation I use to go fishing. \n\nThe Unseelie are actually pretty great bosses, definitely misrepresented in human literature. They have a ton of rules, and they apply to workers, meaning I get paid excellently and I have a great benefits package. My doctor, working with patient confidentiality, knows I am human, and helps me manage. He files reports saying I'm a werewolf and he's been super helpful getting me meals that are balanced, sneaking me supplements to assist my meat-filled diet. Basically, he's my rock. Fortunately for me, he's a Elder Fae, and is more immortal than I am, so I don't have to worry about a new doctor every hundred years or so. \n\nHe's been fascinated by my genome, just like Kristoff was, and I do my best to make sure he has lots of samples. I figure keeping him happy is the least I can do. As the world's oldest and only human, I keep my head down and watch as the world changes. When the Upheaval first happened, the technology level dropped significantly, until the supernatural creatures began to understand humanity's technology. Now, my Fae doctor takes MRIs, uses 3D Holo Matrices to plot my genome, and does scans using long wave light scans. Not only did the supernatural creatures understand our technology, they also resumed our expansion. Now, nearly 1400 years later, the Earth is a utopia, each race well-represented and well-treated. As a human born in the the late 1900s, I wake up every day fascinated by how the world has changed. Floating cities, space travel, and even flying cars, have now become the norm. \n\nAll in all then, this world's not so bad. I make a good living, I have lots of friends, and I recently started seeing an Unseelie Fae, a girl named Mashian, who's even older than I am. I've even been thinking of sharing my secret with her, so hopefully she's okay dating a human. Anyway, that's life in 1358 A.U. It's different that I expected when I was a kid, but it's not bad. Not bad at all. " ]	4
	[WP] it's the year 2020, and a new super virus has emerged where if you fall asleep, you die. You're part of a group of survivors who have been awake for 10 days, fighting to stay awake however you can..	[ "It was a Thursday, I remembered. Even now, 240 hours later, in the sickly, bone-grey light of the panic room, I remembered that, and little else. Funny how the world works. No one knew why, one night, those consigned to peaceful rest found their sleep eternal. Tragic, for sure, but no less strange. The First Day was chaos, the blogosphere erupting with half-baked conspiracy theories and pointed fingers at one culprit after another. An explosion of information and theorizing raced across the world, almost as if they could do something. And still the world turned lazily, bringing with it the night, the deep, cool pools of shadow and the now-sickening noises of the immune nocturnal animals, lulling one to sleep, daring you to take your chances with what now lay beyond sleep's cold embrace. It was harder the first three days. Sometimes you would almost fall asleep, convincing yourself that your eyes could take a few moments to rest, only to be jolted back to lucidity by the harsh crack of a watchman's paddle, those who were doled out the meager caffeine rations and entrusted with our lives, to stop us Succumbing. They were good men, but ultimately I think even they knew we were buying time. We found some with bullets in their heads, unable to face the fear of consigning themselves to the same plague that had wiped out half of the living world by now. Others were found lying at the bottom of cliffs, and we theorized those were the ones for whom the visions proved too much, Succumbed by their own hallucinations. \n\nIt's just me now, of course. And night is falling again, as if it matters. Lights are still on in most places, their occupants having fled to believed 'safe-zones' back when the plague was believed to be aerial, leaving behind homes and livelihoods untouched. The city lies, peaceful now, in a grotesque parody of itself, yet still behind a facade, as most corpses were wrapped in blankets, or face-down on tables, or slumped backward on chairs. The twisted melody of car horns blended together in a sickening dirge, the only thing piercing the wretched silence. In a way it was a blessing, the blaring cacophony did much to keep a man awake, the occupants having stopped for a \"quick break\" or to \"rest their eyes.\" We did our part to try to stop people going out in cars, those who thought that the exercise would liven them up and stop them from Succumbing, but it was for naught. We all did our part, in the end, but look just how far that got us. Now I recline here alone, afraid to Succumb but too petrified of the sickening world around me to keep going in a nightmare land. I am Succumbing now, I can feel it. In the corners of my vision I can see half-glimpsed friends, and I can catch myself daydreaming, thinking of what it might be like to see my friends again. Perhaps a few days ago I would have ceased this at once, I would have stalked up to the commanding watchman and demanded rations, determined by some sick sense of competitiveness to outlast my peers, convinced that maybe someday soon we would see the end of this. It doesn't matter anymore, of course.\n\nI let myself slip to one side, bringing my knees to my chest to make me more comfortable, shifting my body in the makeshift bower I had set up in the massive oak, when the stench of the bodies on the ground became too much. I let slip the needle I had been using to prick myself, and my tortured knuckles scream in relief. With grim satisfaction I noted that it was bent-I had held on to that wretched thing since the Eighth Day. I feel myself slipping away, and I do nothing to stop it. \n\nGoodnight.", "I glanced at the two in the corner of the room. They have been slapping each other for quite a while now. The other two on the opposite corner were having a conversation, actually at this point they are just shouting nonsense at one another. I…\n\nNo! I move the knife I perforated the palm of my hand with from side to side. I took the more extreme approach to the problem, but frankly? I couldn't care less at this point, I am too tired for that. If only we still had coffee! All the coffee was gone by the first three days.\n\nWe are done for. If the virus doesn’t kill us the exhaustion will. Heh. After ten days with no sleep everything seems more funny, it doesn’t really help that my four companions are screaming random shit and slapping each other. I have been laughing quietly since day seven. Everything is too surreal right now. Except the knife, it’s the only thing that still feels real. I shake once again. The wave of pain going through my body is getting more dull each time, soon not even that will anchor me to reality. I will drift away into Morpheus’s arms and he’s going to throw me straight away at Hades.\n\nI don’t have any regrets at least. Actually… what I wouldn’t do for one last cup of coffee.\n" ]	2
As we break down sexism, more and more women are undertaking higher education to become doctors/lawyers/politicians/scientists, while men still make up the vast majority of technical fields (construction/electricians/plumbers/mechanics) due to the necessity of having a lot of strength. It seems that this trend will only progress, and eventually we will have a higher proportion of women in mainly "theoretical" jobs and men in mainly "practical" jobs. Extrapolate further.	[WP] Our society has progressed far into the future, and sexism has essentially reversed; men are valued only for their physical attributes (strength, athleticism) and women are considered more theoretically-minded, the natural leaders of society.	[ "I tried to readjust my tight pants without anyone noticing. \n\n“Whoa, quit playing with yourself!” Sheryl hollered at me while fist pumping.\n\n“Get a look at that anaconda Becky!” \n\nThe women started laughing and high fiving. I could feel heat blooming in my cheeks as I tried to walk out of the office with some of my dignity intact. I would not cry in front of them. I slammed the bathroom stall door and the tears fell out in an uncontrollable torrent. I took a few deep breaths and wiped my eyes. I am stronger than they are. They can’t just push me around like this. I clenched my fists wiped snot out of my nose and walked back into the office with my head held high. \n\n“Hey Rick, can you do you me a favor and fix the printer please?” Amber asked sweetly. \n\n“Sure Amber.” \n\nThe printer was always jamming. I had no idea how they managed to do it but every day I had to get down and fix it. I was bent over with my head inside the printer trying to work out the jam when I felt a hard pinch on my rear. I jumped in surprise and smashed my head. Rubbing the already swelling lump, I looked at my offender angrily.\n\n“How about next time you leave a couple buttons undone on that flannel Rick.” My boss Brittany said salaciously. \n\n“I’m just teasing Rick.” Brittany said with a wink and walked away. Her tall heels clicked on the hardwood floors. \n\nIf I didn’t need this job I would have already quit. I left for lunch and walked down the sidewalk to a small café on the corner. It was my favorite place to get an iced coffee and a panini. A crew of construction workers labored in the sun moving heavy rocks into wheel barrows. Women were standing by watching them and jeering.\n\n“Hey strong guy, how about you come over here and handle my rocks!” Shouted a short heavyset brunette.\n\n“Yeah, use me like a wheel barrow!” Another woman shouted. They laughed at each other’s jokes and high fived.\n\nI sighed to myself as I entered La Sammich. The man at the counter took a woman’s order. She was being exceptionally rude and short with the poor man.\n\n“Honestly how hard is it to take an order and make a sandwich?! Idiot!” \n\nThe man was struggling, it was obvious he was new. She paid and stormed off to wait for her food at a table. Poor bastard I thought to myself. I gave him an apologetic look and ordered a soup and salad and ate quietly in the corner. The rest of the day went by in a haze. Becky made a few more remarks but I tried to ignore them. I left work and made my way to the gym. As much as I hated the comments the women made it would be worse if I wasn’t in shape. I held back tears as I bench pressed my anger out. \n\nJust another day I thought to myself.\n\n", "Geoff Mills tugged uncomfortably at his long sleeves. The weather forecast earlier that morning had told him it would be over 90 degrees out, but he'd had enough of women ogling his arms. Even if his immaculate physique showed right through the fabric, at least he was denying them the chance to gawk at his bare skin. It wasn't like he worked out 4 hours a day for them or anything, but he'd long since learned voicing his complaints would only make more of them turn around and stare.\n\nEven going to the gym was turning into more and more of a chore; he swore he could literally hear many pairs of eyes locking on to him the moment he stepped over to the weights. He hated feeling like a mere block of flesh, as if he was nothing more than a pair of muscled arms attached to a six-pack torso.\n\nHe sighed with relief as he opened the refrigerator door and rummaged through its contents. There was enough food to last him for the rest of the day, so he wouldn't have to go outside. Geoff wasn't an introvert by any means, but he, like many other men, had those days where he just didn't have the energy to deal with any sexist comments.\n\nTo be fair, it's not like every woman out there was nothing more than a bundle of hormones bottled up with a heavy dash of misandry, but there were enough of them to make most men cautiously pessimistic. Better to be safe than sorry, what with society being female-dominated, not to mention that women tended to travel in larger groups than men to begin with.\n\nGeoff eased into his favorite chair and fired up his computer. Since he'd already planned to stay inside for the rest of the day, he figured he'd get some quality game time in for his favorite online computer game, World of Speechcraft. Even though he was a man, he relished the verbal duels and mental warfare that had come to define the world-popular, best-selling massively multiplayer online game. \n\nLogging into the game, he casually flicked his eyes toward the lower left corner of his screen where the chat window resided. Like always, it was flying with activity as thousands of people all vied for attention in the global chat channel.\n\n lol why dont u go into the kitchen and\n get some tupperware off the top shelf for me?\n\n don't be so sensitiv its not liek you have to do\n nething except stand there and look handsome\n\n abs or GTFO\n\nWith a heavy sigh, Geoff clicked the little \"x\" that allowed him to minimize the chat box. Apparently, someone had outed another player as a guy, and the global chat had already exploded accordingly with this discovery.\n\nIt was going to be another one of those days." ]	2
	[WP] Your child made a treasure map in school today. To entertain them you went on a treasure hunt, but you actually found something at the end.	[ "“Mom, I made a treasure map in school!” The young boy presented his mother with his creation. “Oh, wow. Look at that! It looks so old!” She feigned her amazement quite obviously, but her son did not notice. He nodded. “I ripped up parts of the paper and Mrs. Holloway helped me burning the edges so it looked really old.”\n\n“Good job, Sigurd. What is the treasure?” The young boy clearly had not thought about it and shrugged with his shoulders. “I dunno.” “Well, why don’t we go and find out?” Small Sigurd’s eyes widened. He wanted to go but he was old enough to know, that if you made a map to find your way to a treasure, the treasure would not magically appear. “Mom, I made the map, there will not be any treasure.” \n\n“Don’t be too sure about that. There could always be what you most desire.” His mother announced playfully. “We won’t know until we were there, won’t we?” She had him convinced and packed some sweets in her purse, while young Sigurd was putting on his shoes.\n\n“Where do we start?”, she asked him. The boy looked at his map and showed his mother the most important land marks. “This is our house.” His little hands wandered over the map in another direction. “And this is the school.” His fingers stopped at the beginning of the path. “We must go to the old log.”\n\nAnd so, mom and son had a wonderful time walking to where an old log had fallen over. “What is next, Sigurd?” The boy looked proudly into his map and announced: “We have to follow the path to the creek!”\n\nThe creek was small and almost empty. Sigurd had accumulated an impressive collection of wooden sticks on the way and was testing how they would fall into the water. His mother waited patiently and only when he was finished and about to go off to find more sticks, she reminded him of the treasure, that was waiting for them. “Do we have to cross the creek to get to the treasure, Sigurd?”\n\nThe boy remembered. Without looking at the map, he told his mother, that they had to follow the creek until they met a pair of trees that had grown into each other. So they followed it. The mother walked on top, while her son explored every bend, that the tickle of water to his feet made. She was happy to see him this light hearted. He had taken the loss so hard. For months, she did not know, what to do, to cheer him up. This little adventure was a welcome change.\n\n“Is it still far?”, she asked him when they had reached the intertwined trees. “No.” The boy pointed towards a clearing in the already thin forest. “It’s there.”\n\nThe mother looked for a place to hide the sweets. She distracted her son with a task so she could stash it unseen. The boy looked all around, yet could not find the treasure. “We have to dig.” He sounded quite sure of it. “Maybe you should look behind this tree?” The mother singled out the tree where she had hidden the sweets.\n\n“No. We must dig here!” “But we don’t have a shovel, sweetie.” The boy had already started digging through the dirt on his knees with his bare hands. “Oh, no, Sigurd. Stop that! You’re getting mud all over your clothes!” Young Sigurd did not listen and continued with even more effort.\n\n“Stop it!” The mother walked over and wanted to drag the little man away. But he stopped as soon as she arrived. Both looked at what the boy had just dug out. The mother in shock and Sigurd without any expression on his face. A human hand sticked out of the mud.\n\n“Don’t look.” The mother had regained her ability to act and dragged the boy far away from the gruesome find. How did a hand get there? Does she have to call the police? A thousand things went into the mothers head as she was fighting hard to not break down in the presence of her poor troubled child.\n\nHe should not have seen this. Not after what had happened. “Is it dad’s?” “What?” The mother stopped her train of thought to take care of her possibly traumatized son for a moment. “The hand. Is it dad’s?” He did not understand at all, the poor child. Tears came rolling down her face. “No, sweetie. Daddy was buried. Don’t you remember? Everyone was there. To the funeral at the church. We all said Goodbye to Daddy.”\n\n“I know.” The boy fidgeted around. “When you said the treasure is what I most want it to be, I wanted dad to be there.” He looked back at the clearing which they had left. “Not like this. I wanted him to be like before.”\n\n“Oh, sweetie, I know. I know. I want him back, too. We miss him so terribly much, don’t we? But he is not coming back.” The stream of tears did not stop and her eyes had went red from the crying.\n\n“Here.” He gave her something that he had carried in the palm of his hand. “What is this - “ She recognized it immediately. “Where did you get that?” But she already knew. “The hand gave it to me.” It was the same ring as the one on her ringfinger.\n\nShe did not know, where her mind went. She wanted to wake up desperately. It must be a dream. But she ran towards the clearing, searching the ground. The hand was gone, she had looked everywhere. She shuffled through the mud, grabbing pieces of dirt and flinging them away from her. All while crying violently.\n", "“Hey, bud, learn anything cool today?” I said as my son walked in from the school bus.\n\n“Aaargh!” he laughed back at me, “we learned about pirates. In art, we made our own treasure maps. Mine’s in my back pack. I was thinking maybe later we can see where it takes us.”\n\n“Sure, we can hunt around the yard after dinner,” I agreed, thinking we could both use some fresh air.\n\n“Cool, but the map’s not of the yard. Mrs. Rackham gave us tracing paper to use over some maps. Mine goes all the way to the lake!”\n\nI couldn’t help but sigh to myself as I served up the spaghetti. I’m sure even if he hadn’t had tracing paper and a map, he would have made his map end at the lake. I might be biased, but my eight year old is pretty smart and if there’s a way to work in a trip out to the lake, he will find it. He was lucky it was a beautiful day, a visit after dinner would actually be a nice change of pace.\n\nAfter we finished eating, I left a note for my husband and grabbed my keys. I was practically in the van when my son stopped me. “Mom, we have to walk! See, the map is drawn with little footprints on it. That means you have to take steps.”\n\nOf course, it is “Why would you do that? You know the lake is over a mile away, right? That’s a lot of walking”\n\n“Yeah, but there are a few smaller X’s that we have to stop at. See?” he asked as he handed me the map. I looked it over and although there weren’t buildings, I could see that he had marked stops at places like the penny candy store, the icecream store and the bridge where we sometimes feed the ducks. I was beginning to think that he might be smarter than I give him credit for. Then I noticed that the last X wasn’t just at the lake, it was IN the lake.\n\n“Bud, how do you think we are going to check out the spot where the treasure is? That’s like 100 feet out into the lake,” I said, a little too smugly for someone talking to a child. \n\n“I don’t know, it just seemed like that’s where the treasure would be. It’s alright, we don’t have to follow it. It’s just a dumb map,” he kicked a stone as he turned back towards the house. \n“No, let’s go. This is a pretty good map. Can we ride bikes or does that break the footprint rule? Surely a pirate wouldn’t hold it against us for using a little modern convenience?” He smiled as he ran around the house to get his bike. I studied the map a bit more, while we waited. He had done a pretty good job of tracing the geography between our house and the lake. None of the modern buildings in town where there, but he had traced the main road which was rumored to have been a horse trail. Mrs Rackham had even helped them burn the edges for that authentic old map feel. Even with the stops he had planned, it shouldn’t take us too long. I texted my husband, hoping he would be able to pick us up by the lake in an hour. As enthusiastic as he was, Tommy was the kind of kid who used all his energy getting someplace and needing to be carried home.\n\nTommy finally came back around the house with his bike. He had the basket filled up with swimming gear, towels and his backpack. I just shook my head as I got on my own bike and we took off for town. It was a fairly uneventful trip to the candy store, but Neccos were as good a treasure as anything. We pushed our bikes down the block, but Tommy didn’t stop at the icecream store. He kept walking until he got in front of Fred’s rental shop. \n\n“Tommy, we aren’t renting a boat. Do you know how much that costs?” \n\n“But, mom, Fred’s having a special, look at the sign! Spring Special: 4 hours for $10. You can use my allowance this month! How can we find pirate treasure if we don’t have a ship?!” he screeched, close to having a sugar induced meltdown. I would hardly call Fred’s rusty old row boats “ships,” but I felt committed at this point. Glancing at the map again, I realized that last mark wasn’t the duck bridge, it was the pick up area and boat dock. The kid had definitely put some effort into this. I sighed as I pulled out my wallet. Fred was happy to have a rental on a weeknight and gave us his best ship. Turns out the spring special was happening because Fred wanted a little business before he got the motors out for the summer. Looks like my arms would be getting a workout tonight. It was a short ride to the lake and Fred’s grandson, Willy, helped us put the little boat into the water. \n\n“Come on, mom, row!” he screamed, holding up the map and pointing at nothing in particular. I grumbled as I started rowing, reminding myself that it was a beautiful day and surely this would give me some cool mom points. I got us halfway across the lake, where the water looked exactly the same as the rest of the lake and asked him if he had our bearing. He spread the map out on the bench seat and turned it to line up with the shoreline. I was about to toss the anchor when he announced we had to move. I didn’t bother asking how he could tell and maneuvered to get us twenty more feet. Suddenly, we slowed with a thud and that distinctive metal screech of a car accident. I wondered what kind of insurance Fred had on these things as I looked over the side. \n\n“Mom! There is a treasure! Did we find it?” Tommy rocked the boat as he moved to look. I guess he forgot that he drew the map, but it was weird that there was something in the lake. It looked like a pipe of some kind sticking just above the water. The side of the boat had a pretty nasty scratch, but there didn’t appear to be any holes. We weren’t taking on water, so I figured we could “discover” a little bit more.\n\nTommy instructed me to pull on the pipe; it didn’t budge. He got a flashlight out of his bag and tried shining it down the pipe. It was a 3 inch pipe, so we just saw black. He dropped a marble down and we counted to six before we heard a distinctive plink. He turned and asked me how deep that meant and seemed disappointed to remember that his dad was the engineer. I was just pulling out my phone to see what google had to say about marbles and measuring depth, when we heard a loud whirring sound coming from the pipe. We both sat there in shock staring at the opening of the pipe until a small glass lens pushed his marble out into the lake. It continued raising until it looked like a small periscope sticking up out of the lake. Tommy immediately stuck his face up to the lens, which caused it to turn. Or did it turn on its own? It rotated on its own, then raised several inches and rotated again until it was facing me at my eye level. I was seriously creeped out and told Tommy to get back to his seat while I rows us away. I had just picked up the oars, when there was a loud clank against the bottom of the boat. \n\n“Tommy,” I nervously whispered, “come sit here by me. Why did you mark this spot on the map?”\n\n“I don’t know, I just wanted to come out here and you always say it’s too cold. It was finally a nice day. And I just thought if the X was in the middle of the lake, you would have to get us a boat and we could stay longer.” He moved towards me and I grabbed him to sit between my feet on the boat floor. I tried rowing, but couldn’t move the boat. It was like we were tethered. I looked at the pipe again and tried to look non-threatening. \n\n“Hello? Is there some one controlling this? We were just out for a boatride. Sorry we hit your pipe? I have some cash, I will pay to fix whatever we might have damaged.” I offered, not knowing if there was anyone on the other end. The periscope immediately whirred back down the pipe. We still didn’t move when I rowed. Suddenly, the boat started moving. Whatever had attached itself to the bottom was now in control. I moved to the boat floor with Tommy. I considered taking him and jumping out, but even with his floaties and my life jacket, I didn’t think we could make it to the shore. Especially since whatever was causing this was under the water. There was some clunking and whirring and it seemed our little boat settled into some sort of cradle. Two curved pieces of glass and metal came out of the water and closed around us like peas in a pod. Tommy was now audibly crying about being sorry and cleaning his room and never asking to come to the lake again. I tried to comfort him, but found myself crying as the pod began to descend into the lake. The pod was airtight and had a few LEDs around the middle. They provided the only light as we sunk into the lake. \n\nThe rest is in a comment below. I got a little wordy." ]	2
	[WP] You live in a world without a regular day/night or season cycle. Every day is a different length, and nights have lasted what we know as years before. The world has always been like this. You are your peoples Time Keeper.	[ "\"My pappy and the pappy before him kept time and my youngin and his youngin gon keep, keepin time, and thats all there is to say about it!\" Samuel replied to his father \"But pah I don't want to keep no time no more!\" This angers his father, since, from his perspective, he labored with blood, sweat, and tears to keep these records diligently despite his improper use of language and understanding of technology he did his job well. Jacobs father sat up straighter in his chair and looked his first born son in the eyes and replied \"You dos what ya tink you outta do\", Jacobs' heart tighten with sadness for he knew leaving would mean disowning. His eyes began to water when he said, \"It don't have to be like this\", yet Jacobs father stood firm in his words and slowly lumbered off to his study. Jacob knew the life of a Time Keeper required constant attention and care with little respect, but now the world is set to enter a dark age and only a few are prepared. ", "We didn't like the Olnac, or Mica. We're pretty sure the Noche steal our babies and eat them. But what were we supposed to do? We had to sleep sometime. I flipped the clock and scooted it towards Ollin. He was Olnac. It was their turn now. \n\n\"Tired?\" Ollin grinned.\n\n\"Not too tired to watch you.\" I sheepishly flashed a smile back. Ollin wasn't so bad. It was the rest of them.\n\n\"Tell the Noche turn-keeper that tonight, we steal there babies!\"\n\nOllin Laughed. \n\nI laughed.\n\nThe cycle passed. Still no sun. It was my turn again. Ezti scooted the sand clock my way. He didn't say anything. He never said anything. Stupid Mica. I sighed. This cycle was important. It marked the beginning of the four feasts. \n\nAll the Towhak, my people, were busy with preparations. Feasting tables were laid out in the streets. Peccaries were slow roasted and stuffed over great bonfires as our people sand. Some of the Olnac even woke up early to join us. The four chiefs sat at the long table and watched as our people danced before them. I knew they were pleased, we had the best dancers, and the best turn. The chief's had a long cycle ahead of them. There were three more turns before the feast was over. \n\nI scooted the clock to Ollin.\n\n\"Steal any babies?\"\n\nI laughed.\n\nHe laughed.\n\nThe cycle passed.", "The one that everyone always talks about is the Deep Night. That’s the bogeyman that hides under their collective beds. A night that never ends, that goes on and on until the world is cold and dead. \n\nAt least, they used to fear the Deep Night. Nowadays, almost everyone has admitted that I was right. The Endless Day, like I always said, is far, far worse. Have you ever heard someone say they prefer the cold, because you can always put on more coats? Whereas with heat, you reach a point where you can’t take off any more clothes. \n\nTwo weeks into the Endless Day, the temperature outside had equalized at a level that no human could realistically survive in for any significant period of time. It was the end of harvest season, and fortunate rains had created a lucky surplus of easily stored food. But it will not last forever. That was seven months ago. Time is running out. My world is wilting and dying, and I feel responsible.\n\n--\n\nThe Chronographer set down the quill and closed the dusty tome. He made his way downstairs, and waited patiently outside. His assistant trotted up within seconds, and the Chronographer smiled. Right on time. \n\nThey grabbed a torch and set out. The Chronographer had heard rumors of a man far along down the cavern road who claimed to know the way to stop this inexorable apocalypse. There was frankly no time to waste. Any lead, no matter how preposterous, must be followed. \n\nThe man’s home, like all of the others, was a ramshackle hut clearly built in a hurry. \n\n“Come in, and see our salvation!” he cried, ushering the travelers into a back room. There, a woman lay on her back, panting heavily. Her belly bulged outward comically, and she cradled a small child in her arms. The assistant, who had made excuses to leave the room during every single one of his sibling’s births, stepped outside. \n“This child will be our salvation?” asked the Chronographer, sharply. “Do not waste my time with such rot. False magicks and the birth of a savior? Explain yourself, quickly.”\n\nThe man only smiled, grabbing the woman’s hand firmly. “The child is not the savior. No, he is only an instrument of our salvation”, he intoned darkly, and drew something from his pocket.\n\nThe next fifteen seconds would be permanently burned into the Chronographer’s memory. The man raised his hand high, revealing a wicked blade. The very sight of it was unholy. With a swift movement, he brought the knife down into the child.\n\nThe corpse dissipated into dust immediately. The man smiled, shrieking “Now, behold! It is come!” before dashing out the door.\n\nThe Chronographer, horrified and spellbound, did his best to keep up. He intended to bring this man to justice, and, following that, find out what happened with the blade and the boy. Like almost everyone else in his culture, the Chronographer was not fooled by sleight of hand or smoke tricks. But the disappearance of the body, and the chill brought by the blade, seemed to suggest that something greater was at play.\n\nThe man charged to the nearest cavern exit with the Chronographer in tow. Steeling himself, he stepped outside, immediately beginning to sweat from the heat, and bade the Chronographer watch.\n\nHe couldn’t believe his eyes. A wave of darkness crept across the horizon. Closer and closer it came, until the Chronographer was sure that the furtive man had simply exchanged one doom for another. However, when it reached them, or, more specifically, when it reached the bloody blade still held aloft, it stopped. The man turned to the Chronographer, and grinned.\n\n--\nThree years later\n\n\nWhen people talk about the Deep Night nowadays, or the Endless Day, they aren’t telling tall tales to frighten their neighbors. They’re referring to locations. Half of the world is now the Deep Night, after that odd man did whatever he did three years ago. A cold wasteland of ice and rock. The other half is the Endless Day, our people’s bane. A scorched desert with no discernable life.\n\nWe’ve moved out of the caverns, at least. We exist in the Dusk, the area between the two hells. The temperature is moderate, the food diverse. Some creatures that managed to survive in the caverns have even reemerged, and our herd animals are as healthy as ever. But the wastelands to either side of us loom eternally, reminding us that the only thing between us and death is the mysterious man.\n\nI still don’t know his name, or where he came from. I don’t even know what he does. My master was there with him three years ago when he saved us, but never spoke of it. I have done my best to resist reading his section in the Chronographer’s tome, specifically, the ending. I don’t know if I even want to know what drove him to take a long walk into the night, but I know it has something to do with the man.\n\nI didn’t believe in magic that day, and I’m still not sure if I do. It may have just been a coincidence. But the man seems to think that his actions are paramount to our survival. Once a year, he dashes out of his home, concealing something under his cloak, and stands on the outskirts of town. Nothing happens (or nothing that I can see, anyway), but he seems to think it is important. The important thing is, we can live again.\n\n--\n\nThe new Chronographer set down the quill and closed the dusty tome. He looked out of his window and sighed. His people had survived the greatest tribulation of their time, but how? Perhaps he would never know. Perhaps the cost of their survival would remain, forever, a secret known only to the furtive man.\n", "\"So let me see if I'm understanding this right. What you're telling me is...\" the fat man at the end of the table says pausing between bites \"...that a star bigger than any other in the sky is going to rise over that horizon within a week\" he points his meaty sausage finger at the window to his right.\n\n\"Actually\" you say raising your finger \"it'll likely be that horizon\" you point to the window on his left \"give or take a day or so.\"\n\nThe fat man raises his eyebrows at your insubordinate pedantry.\n\n\"All right\" he says avoiding your gaze like he hasn't already decided what to say \"Lets say for a minute that all your saying about giant stars and massive temperature rises is true\" he opens his arms out \"what would you like me to do about it?\"\n\nThe question perplexes you. You figured it was obvious.\n\n\"You have to warn everyone!\" you blurt out \"Any day now temperatures on this planet could rise by at least 150 degrees, we have to organize shelters, we have to...we have to start conserving our water supplies, we--\"\n\n\"I'm sorry\" he holds up his hand \"we need to? We have to?\" his lips curl into a smile \"I don't have to do anything, much like I don't have to listen to you prattle on about theoretical celestial objects that no one in the history of mankind has ever detected, ever.\" He throws his hands in the air \"where do you suppose this mysterious star will come from \"Mr. Timekeeper\".\n\nYou wish he wouldn't denigrate your position like that, but your used to it. There was once a time when your job commanded respect - 537 years ago to be precise. You sigh, exasperated. In your mind you try to choose your words carefully, but the indignity is starting to get to you.\n\n\"I understand what this must look like to you, chancellor--\"\n\n\"Oh you do do you?\"\n\nYou close your eyes tightly, forcing down your boiling pride. Its not enough that he looks down on your position, now he has to interrupt you?\n\n\"-- but it is my job to know this. The timekeepers have known about this for at least 130 years!\" \n\n\"--well if that's the case why didn't you come forward earlier. We could have begun preparations early if that was the case\"\n\nAnd now the condescension, just like clockwork.\n\n\"--because\" you say slowly \"it turns out that even though timekeeper is an official government position that doesn't grant them--\"\n\n\"Really? What department?\"\n\n\"Department of historical preservation\" you recite \"fifth division, third department subset\" you hesitate \"room 237\"\n\n\"So not a scientist then, a historian\" he nods with a patronizing frown \"a respectable job I imagine, but again, hardly a position to be telling me what I can and cannot do.\"\n\nYou've had enough of this idiocy.\n\n\"I refuse to believe that I'm the only one who knows this\" shaking, you toss your hands in the air \"I mean for fucks sake I can talk to someone on the other edge of the world in the time it takes for you to shove another piece of cake down your throat and your telling me that we can't detect a major celestial event within days of it happening? God-all-fucking-mighty man! Do you want people to die? Is that it? Because that's what's going to happen, asshole! We didn't have this kind of technology last time it--\" You catch yourself, but its too late. The fat man leans in.\n\n\"How do you mean 'last time'\"\n\nThat's it, you fucked it up. You take a few deep breaths - maybe you can salvage this.\"\n\n\"If you look back across human history, every single culture has their own individual mythology. Now sometimes there's a bit of overlap, but mostly these are just general things like deity roles, sexual mores - but the one thing they all have in common is the myth of the nameless fiery sphere that smote the earth. Now doesn't that seem just a little coincidental? Don't you think there might be something there that we should investigate? I mean just look at Bolerian mythology for a second where Tryphus--\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm familiar with the story\" he says barely hiding his contempt \"I liked it very much when I learned it in Sunday school\".\n\n\"--but you see my point don't you?\"\n\nThere's a pause. The fat man takes another bite.\n\n\"Yes, I see very clearly now\" another bite \"I see that...your a lunatic who's come to my home with barely an announcement - and how did you get an appointment?\"\n\n\"Government connections\" you didn't want to tell him that you were dating his great grand-niece.\n\n\"Well then I hope their belief has at least somewhat satiated your paranoid delusions 'Mr. Timemaster'\" he cups his hand to his mouth \"LORIC!\" he bellows.\n\nThe door opens and the hulking gorilla of a man swoops in and grabs your shoulder with one hand. You know better than to resist, but his vice grip forces your movements anyways.\n\n\"Throw this maniac back to the hole he came from and find whoever got him in here and have them fired\" as you're led out the door you hear a call behind you \"Don't you worry, though, sir, if your sun does appear I'll have my top scientists notify you immediately\" a hoarse cackle follows as the mahogany door slams shut behind.\n\nSoon you find yourself face down on the cobblestones outside the mansion's iron gates. Rather than risk continued injury you remain on the ground until the creak of the metal behind you concludes. Dusting off your pants you adjust your vest and straighten your bow tie. Walking down the street you run the conversation through your head, attempting to pick the faults and mentally preparing for the next scumbag official you're scheduled to see (though the rumbling car engines and the cries of the street vendors drown out any hope of mental coherency). Preperations had to be made, people had to be warned. Time was running out.\n\nYou glance up.\n\nThe massive lamps hanging from the city dome send down their life giving light, the glass hemisphere holding in all the heat it can. You look up, wondering at the marvel of engineering as you always did when you ventured from your office. Your gaze pierces beyond the dome's gleaming surface into the infinite abyss of the starry sky.\n\nIts when your gaze falls on a particularly bright star that you realize you never told him it was called the sun." ]	4
	[WP] When a pregnant woman gets moody, it's actually the baby controlling her like a gundam/mecha.	[ "The symbiotic relationship with his host was extremely beneficial for young Caleb. His host was in near perfect form, both strong(getting stronger by the day it seemed) and fast. Caleb knew that this time-THIS LIFE-Would be the culmination of all his hard work. Reincarnation was real, but if you die in the womb, you die for real. He had fought countless battles throughout the years, both bloody and savage, against Michael. Each time, he would find the timing to be wrong. After birth, he lost it would seem like his muscles would atrophy and his brain would revert to its simplest form. This time, he prayed, he would be early enough to end it once and for all. \nIt all started so long ago that Caleb could hardly remember the original conflict. They always seemed to be on opposite sides. He had fallen to Michael's spear as a gladiator, but tasted revenge when his arrow had taken Michael in the chest some decades later. He was shot, presumably during one of the big wars, and had killed his rival most recently in the barren wastelands of the middle east, before being destroyed by the improvised explosive attached to Michael's chest, only moments after. He lived to fight. Countless lives had been lost or taken, but each time he would come back. He finally figured a way to finish this. He instructed his vehicle to move. She followed the commands well though he could only communicate with subtle hints. By giving her cravings, he could manipulate her wants and needs. He just needed to maneuver close to the other, and set his host off. Her raging hormones should do the rest. There! Across the parking lot he sensed him. Just a little closer....", "My first prompt! It's not the best but enjoy? I guess:\n\nDamn it, Damn it, Damn it all! How could I have let this happen? I was supposed to be completely in control. I know I... I…I. Had it, it’s like this beast can’t be tamed! Let’s check the fuel reactors…. Damn it! Completely empty…. I guess I’ll sit tight for the time being, rethink my hacking method….\n“HONEY!!! I NEED MORE SPINACH ICE CREAM!!!”\n“Umm, babe I think you need to go easy on the spinach Ice Cream, if you keep eating it like this the demand is gonna be higher than the supply and you remember what happened last time don’t you?”\n“That wasn’t my fault. You can’t advertise all you can eat ice cream if you can’t provide All you can eat ice cream”\n“You just go easy. Okay? I’ll go make another run to the parlor.”\n“Thanks babe, I will… Oh! Before you go, what should I order for dinner? I was thinking maybe Indian or Korean?”\n“Umm, whatever you want babe. I’m not in a particularly persnickety mood today.” \n“Alright, Indian it is!” \nIt’s been 4 months and David Herschway and Miranda Herschway are still coping with the pregnant life. Dave’s been writing twice as many articles for Gaming Nightly. Miranda’s been antsy after taking a leave of absence from her job as an Internal Technician at one of the biggest corporations to exist.\n\nCLICK WHIRRRRRR\nYes, I’m back in control. Now let’s take this baby out for a spin. Mech! Walk to the refrigerator! (We’re gonna need some extra fuel if I’m going to be able to pilot this for more than a half-hour.) \nMiranda takes a few uncoordinated steps to the refrigerator and stares blankly\nAlright! It’s working! Who knew these roundhouses to the front wall would be so effective!\nMech! Grab materials needed to make: Ham and Cheese Sandwich\n\nCLICK CRASH!!!!!!!\n*ERROR---PILOT 001 IS NO LONGER IN CONTROL ---AUTO-PILOT: DISABLED\nDAMN! NOT AGAIN! WHY SO SOON? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG! IS IT THE COMMANDS? I CAN’T BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND?!\n“Honey. Go back to bed. You know what the Doctor said.”\n“Umm, yeah. I.Uh. Have no idea how I got here” Miranda stared at her stomach with a bemused expression as she considered the idea of a baby controlling her every movement….\n\nThat simply wasn’t the case ….\n\nThe baby couldn’t control her EVERY* movement…….\n", "The Womb's controls weren't functioning properly, which meant that Mother-110 wasn't going to, either.\n\nPilot Baby Argo positioned himself more comfortably inside The Womb and reached underneath for the umbilical cord, pulling sharply to the right, cursing underneath his breath. There was another Mother unit nearby, his telepathic radar was able to pick up two things: a very weak Womb sensor (<at least that's working,> Pilot Baby Argo thought) and certain words. PB Argo thought he made out a name -- Nimphus -- but barely. He replied telepathically, <PB Nimphus, this is PB Argo with Mother-110, over,> but there was no answer back.\n\n---\n\nEva Paulie suddenly hated everything. The taste of her pad thai, all these random fucking statues inside this odd-smelling restaurant. Even the water tasted different. Her sister noticed the rapid change of expression on Eva's face.\n\n\"Is everything okay?\" Yulie asked, slurping a thin noodle. \n\n\"Can you, uh, not slurp so loudly?\" Eva ran fingers down her long coarse black hair. Irritation, everywhere. She slammed her wrists on the table, the silverware clattering. \n\n\"Jesus, E, what the hell,\" Yulie said. \"What's the matter?\" She eyed her sister's giant protruding belly, realizing that's also the answer to her own question, and quickly added, \"Never mind.\" Yulie put her chopsticks down and dabbed the corners of her lips with a crumbled napkin. \"We need to talk.\" \n\n---\n\nThe placenta-surfaced screens composing The Womb's console display, surrounding PB Argo entirely, played live feed of the Mother unit's retinal display. PB Argo felt the Mother unit's systems need for organic energy moments earlier, and now that it was feeding, something is wrong. The screens were powering on and off, the umbilical cord wasn't transferring sufficient energy, Mother-110's temper readings were leveling, going off the charts, leveling... \n\nArgo wanted to scream. Nothing was making sense.\n\n<Is anyone picking this up? Hello?> \n\nArgo frowned. The telepathic voice -- the same as the reading from before. Definitely the same. \n\n<This is unit Mother-110> Argo responded <What is your unit ID, over?>\n\nThe voice came in clearer: <I'm not sure.>\n\nHow is he not sure? Argo eyed the screens, the glow reflecting off his ethereal skin. The readings were nebulous. Whoever this was, they existed, they were near, but... \n\n<That's alright PB, just stick with me here. How long have you been inside that unit, over?>\n\n<Not too long>\n\n<You got a name, PB? Is it Nimphus?>\n\n<I don't know.>\n\nWhat in the fuck is going on? Argo's mind raced with possible theories. An amnesiac Pilot Baby? A faulty Mother unit? Argo felt bad for the kid. If the Mother unit was faulty... the chances of a successful ejection were slim. And that's putting it optimistically. \n\n<That's alright, kid, I'm right here. My name's Argo.>\n\n<Hi, Argo.>\n\n<How about I call you Nimphus for now?>\n\n<I'd like that.>\n\n<Just keep talking, kid, we'll get all of this sorted out, deal?>\n\nArgo eyed his Mother unit's temper readings, and spotted the sudden spike in excitement way too late. The Womb started to rock violently, and Argo lunged forward--\n\n<Argo!>\n\n---\n\nEva wiped her tears and saw Yulie do the same. The scattered restaurant patrons eyed the two sisters strangely, but the two sisters paid them no mind. The news Yulie dropped was too exciting.\n\n\"Was it a surprise?\" Eva asked.\n\n\"Sort of!\" Yulie sat back down. Eva followed. \"It just happened. I found out a couple of days ago. I was a blubbering mess when the doctor told me I was pregnant, and then I told Andrew and he was, too...\"\n\n\"Pregnant?\" Eva joked. Yulie laughed between her sniffing.\n\n\"An emotional mess like me,\" Yulie said.\n\nEva placed her hands on top of Yulie's. \"I love you, baby girl.\" \n\n\"I love you, too.\"\n\n---\n\nArgo smiled. \n\nOf course.\n\nOf course. \n\nIt all made sense. Nimphus was an Egg Pilot. He must've recently graduated the Mother Unit Program and been assigned to his very own. The amnesia was all part of the genesis process. \n\n<Nimphus, how we doing?>\n\n<My unit went a little crazy.>\n\nArgo grinned. <Yeah, kid. Get used to that. These units almost always are.>\n\n\n\n\n", "“Spin up the reactor. Set to full.” \n\nWhirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nClunk\n\n“Reactor online. Ramping up, full power in three.”\n\nAdam was a master of his craft. A grizzled veteran. He had been a by-the-book Fetus-Pilot, and he expected to complete his tour of duty (currently nine months into a deployment without a stated end date) with honor and distinction. However, his Mech-ther was experiencing some sort of outside interference, and direct action was direly needed. Hence, the reactor prep. \n\n--\n\nMartha was a mother of two, with a third on the way any day now. She had already decided that his name would be Adam. Her other children had been problem babies, and she figured by the law of averages that it was time for a mild-mannered one to come her way. \n\n--\n\n“Reactor at full power. Beginning systems diagnostics check. Expected time 30 seconds.”\n\nAdam set his jaw. He felt naked with his Mech-ther unprepared. The outside disturbance sounded again. “I WANNA FEEL HIM KICK!” Adam grimaced. This had happened before. He had begun to theorize that the outside sounds were from a creature of some kind, one more horrible than anything seen before across the entire womb. When are these checks going to finish?\n\n--\n\nMartha gently rubbed John’s hair. “You were in here only a few years ago, champ! He’ll kick when he’s ready, and besides, he’ll be born any day now.” \n\nThe toddler was unsatisfied by this answer, and continued his prodding of Martha’s tummy. “Kick, kick, KICK!” \n\n--\n\n“System diagnostics complete. All are go. Commencing direct action, Delta maneuver.”\n\nAdam offered a prayer up to whatever gods there were, and readied himself for a Delta maneuver. He wound up, and aimed a powerful series of kicks at the side of the womb. He paused, and thought as hard as he could of pickles and ice cream. I might just survive this yet.\n\n--\n\nMartha felt a sudden craving for an odd food combination. John, contented by the kicks, darted out of the way as Martha abruptly strode towards the kitchen. Pickles and ice cream. Who’s gonna judge me? I’m eating for two. \n\n--\n\nAdam let himself relax. The Delta Maneuver, as usual, had been successful. However, his peace was not to last.\n\nAlarm bells blared inside his mind. Immediately, he felt his safety airbag, which had cushioned him his entire life, burst, and a deluge of liquid spilled out and away. \n\n“Coolant leak. Unprecedented. Standard response unknown.” \n\nCoolant leak? This is new. If I don’t solve this fast, I could be done for. Gods help me. Hold it together, Mech-ther. \n\n--\nMartha gasped dropping her pickles and ice cream. She immediately realized what had happened. Her phone was in her hand in an instant.\n\n“Jack. My water broke. I’m getting a taxi to the hospital.”\n\nTwelve minutes and fifteen seconds later, she was lying in a hospital bed, experiencing contractions for the third time in her life. Three hours after that, the baby was almost on its way out. \n\n--\n\nAdam’s world was falling apart. He knew that to exit the Mech-ther was to become defenseless and weak. He knew that he had to hang on to survive. Yet, try as he might, an inexorable force was pulling him out of his home. It felt as though the womb itself was ejecting him, a betrayal of their nine months of service together. \n\nBlinding light, grower ever brighter, stunned him despite his closed eyes. Within minutes, it was over, and he felt a cold, unfamiliar air on his skin. Alien sounds boomed around him, from countless monstrous beasts. Adam knew that this was the end, and he unleashed a primal cry in defiance of the cruel gods that had abandoned him.\n\n--\n\n“Martha, he’s beautiful! Look, he’s crying!”\n" ]	4
	[WP] You come from a long line of master pyromancers and are dating the heir of an ice mage-clan. Your family does not approve.	[ "\"Oh, they came to greet us at the gate. I spoke so much about you, they waited this lunch for a long time, come my dear.\" I say as we go out of the the car, holding the door for my beloved one.\n\n\nHand in hand, we head to my parents. Dad seems to whisper something to mom and she reply in a voyce so low that I couldn't hear. Well, I knew this would not be that easy to have them accept Alex.\n\n\n\"Welcome home son. And... \"\n\n\n\"Alex, pleased to meet you both. This estate of yours is wonderfull.\"\n\n\n\"You're so kind.\" Said my mom. \"Come with us, you both should be hungry. We will talk around the table. Carl, we will eat in the little lounge.\"\n\n\n\"Well madam. Call me if you need anything else.\" Answered our butler.\n\n\nNo words are spoken as we walk to the main building, the atmosphere is quite tense and I can hear the grinding of my dad's teeth. Finnaly we sit around a little table, one couple on each side. My father then break the silence.\n\n\n\"Was the journey peacefull ? If I well understood you came from the mountains, that's pretty far.\"\n\n\n\"It went smoothly.\" Replyed Alex. \"The lands of the McFrost clan are isolated and we only met other vehicles on our last our of travel. I'm as fascinated as the first time I went here for the college, all that agitation.\"\n\n\nMy mom began to spoke then, well the speech is launched at least.\n\n\n\"So you two met in college ? Ahhh it reminds me those years, so much passion. I don't even remember how many guys I went out with at this time...\"\n\n\n\"Mom ! That's not the same. Hippy years are over and now people search more stability. I'm with Alex since a year and I intend it to last even more. I even begin to think about marriage...\"\n\n\n\"Dont say such things.\" Replyed my dad. \"I can overlook some youth wandering but don't play fool with me, marriage is out of question. You can't, were a respectable family and I can't allow such thing. Play as you want for now but you will one day marry a nice girl from the high society of...\"\n\n\n\"There is no youth wandering here. We're in love and that's all. It's not up to you to decide of who I make my lofe with. \"\n\n\n\"Listen your father please, you know proud he is of our bloodline. You can't just decide to waste it like this. Don't take it bad Alex, but you know...\"\n\n\n\"As I'm a man I can't have a child with your son I know. Still stay the adoption. Magic reside in knowledge not in genes. I descend from a long tradition of ice mages and as theyr heir I can swear that...\"\n\n\n\n\"This is an heresy.\" Interupted my father, his ginger hair starting to wave under the heat. \n\n\"You are not part of this family yet and I wont allow this union in any way. I don't know what you did to him but my son is not a little...\"\n\n\n\"Dad !\"\n\n\n\"Darling ! Stop it now. A man that speak about respectability of the things should not insult a guest under his roof.\"\n\n\n\"So you take his side ?\" Literally explode my father.\n\n\n\"I don't care, If my son is happy that's enough. Plus you know how ended the last forbiden love story like that, thirty years of clan war and dozens of victims.\"\n\n\n\"I don't need a lecture about how Shakespearian can become the quarrels between mages famillys but...\"\n\n\nThat's enough, I can't stand it more.\n\n\n\"So father, don't ask for a Shakespearian resolution to our father-son relationship. If you won't allow me to be with him, the next familly head will.\"\n\n\n\" You dare challenge me now little punk ? You're not even graduated, you will risk your life for this absurd \"I'm gay\" thing ?\"\n\n\n\"This evening, eight o'clock, beside the lake.\"\n\n\nThe silence last about twenty seconds and was broken as Carl entered the room.\n\n\n\"Will you want dessert or some coffee ?\"\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Sitting on my obsidian throne, I blew a smoke ring out of my mouth, the sweet strawberry-like fragrance of herbs filled the air.\n\nIn my arm, my beloved little ice mage, her skin so soothingly chilling the flames surrounding my skin.\n\n\"Mother, father.\" I said with a monotone, looking down at them, jets of blue flame swirling in the air, destroying the oxygen around them. \"Did you really think your outdated way of thinking could prevail against your prodigious son?\"\n\nTheir faces, blue with asphyxiation, red with anger, and purple with the onset of death, contorted with great difficulty to speak their words.\n\n\"You... nobody will... accept... your debauchery...\"\n\nI sighed. It really isn't my intent to kill my beloved parents, but the flames to which I am attuned is a symbol of wild, unrestrained freedom. The nature of my magic forces my hand, to burn away into ashes all that would deny me my will.\n\nAnd so, the jets of blue flames circled ever closer. Just as my parents lost consciousness, their control over flames diminishing, the burning tongues of the raging blaze licked their flesh, rasping their flesh and bone into fine, sandy ash.\n\nMy beloved looked at me with horror in her eyes, but she clung onto me all the harder. I'm sorry she had to see me commit patricide and matricide at the same time, but such is the selfish will that the flames have bound me to.\n\nJust then, the doors to my throne room burst open with an explosion, a red haired woman with tears streaming down her eyes.\n\n\"MOTHER! FATHER!\" She cried, rushing, collapsing into the piles of ashes, her hand so smoothly sinking into their fine texture. \"How could you... I'm so sorry, I'm too late...\"\n\nI choked on my words, there is no way I can justify my actions to her. Not with a glare as definitively deathly as that0.\n\n\"You would kill your own mother and father to do this to me?\" She said, through her grinding teeth. \"To be with that harlot?\"\n\nMy ice mage's grip was almost constricting now, but I threw her on the ground and stood up.\n\n\"I-I'm so sorry, my contract, I can't-\"\n\nThe red haired woman stomped up to me and slapped me in the face.\n\n\"What do you mean you can't?! Everything that happened is because you chose it to happen! Stop making excuses!\"\n\n\"B-but Jessica, I-\"\n\n\"Don't say my name! You don't deserve the right to.\" She spat, and turned to leave. \"Never forget what happened this day. Mother and father had been good to me. I will be good to their revenge.\"\n\n\"W-wait, Jessica! My beloved! Wife!\" I shouted after her, but she didn't even look back.\n\n\"Wife?!\" My beloved, timid ice mage cried out incredulously. \"You had a wife?!\"\n\nI looked at her soft, smooth features, now twisted with a rage that defied her elements.\n\n\"I, uh, I can explain, Hele-\"\n\nSuddenly, a blizzard began blowing in the room. A burning hot blizzard that eclipsed even my jets of blue flame.\n\n\"Farewell, Ice Princess Lina, I hope you will kill that oaf for me.\" My wife said without looking back, her voice chilling, calm, quiet, yet so clearly ringing in my ears despite her distance.", "\"Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked,\" repeated my overbearing mother for the hundredth time.\n\n\"Yes, yes Mother,\" I said as I rolled my eyes. \"You told me this like a million times already but-\"\n\n\"Only the -\"\n\n\"OK, Mother!\" I interrupted. \"I know you arranged for me to marry one of your fellow ice mage clan guys, but I'm telling you I'm in love with Percy the Pyromancer. Haven't you read Romeo & Juliet?\"\n\n\"That is a story about preteens having underaged sexual activity and then getting themselves killed. All because they didn't listen to their mothers,\" snapped Mother.\n\n\"Ughh!\" I whined. \"I'm leaving. Percy and I will make our own clan... Our own clan with... with blackjack and hookers!\"\n\nBut our new clan had so much more than just blackjack and hookers. Percy and I eloped and founded a new family with a new type of magic. We combined our fire and ice powers to create steam magic. The discovery of steamweaving heralded a new era of steampunk innovation. It was an industrial revolution and our entire society benefited immensely from this. This goes to show that racism and bigotry slows down the progress of society and is the main take-home message that the original poster of the writing prompt is trying convey. ", "\"Bleh,\" I said for the third time. \n\nMy father gave me that 'I'm going to kick your ass any minute now' look, and then glanced at her with less kick and more 'throw your ass out'. \n\nIt was a normal family dinner. Fried lobster, fried chicken, fried ribs, fried tuna, and smoked salmon on the table. She was surprised that we didn't eat anything fresh. And that was what I loved about her, she was a different kind of flavour in a world full of smoke and flames. \n\n\"So, Mary, what do you people do. . . at your village?\" My mother asked, 'politely'. \n\nMary smiled. \"Well, sometimes I'll help my parents with the fishing. Unless I'm working at the ice cafe, then I'll be serving most of the afternoon.\"\n\n\"So, your a dish washer at a cafe?\" My mother responded, 'politely'. Meeting my eyes as she reached for more lobster. \n\n\"No, no. I'm a waitress,\" Mary said. \"We deliver things from the kitchen to the table, and usually on floating ice-blocks. It's cool.\" \n\n\"Mary's thinking about opening up her own branch,\" I said, giving her a nudge. \n\nShe blushed. \"Well, yeah. I think I could do really well.\" \n\n\"Definitely.\" \n\nMy dad humphed. \"Sounds unprofessional to me. In our cafes they roll out the food on a flame grill, which is much better. Ice cube's could melt at any second.\"\n\nThe guy was really pushing it. \n\n\"Dad likes to slap his meat on a hot grill. Ask my mum, she knows all about it.\" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. \n\nThere was silence. \n\nAnd then Dad burst out in laughter, Mum did as well. I joined and Mary. \n\nAnd then Dad killed us both. \n\n \n\n", "“It’ll be fine.” \n\n“Are you sure they’ll like me,” she said flatly. Her eyelids were half open as if she were about to fall asleep, not matching the anxious words she spoke. \n\n“I’m sure you’ll get a warm reception.” \n\nWell, I didn’t know if it would be a fiery reception. The edges of her eyes began to frost with icicles. As I brought my hand near her pale face, the ice melted and tear tracks formed as I wiped it all away. \n\n“I love you,” I told her. I always told her this. I would yell this at her. \n\n“Me too,” she said flatly. She really didn’t express herself at all, but her frigid personality was kind of an attraction point for me. It gave me something to work for. \n\nWe walked hand in hand towards the great manor in which my parents stayed. It had been a year since I had visited. That was when I left for the Mage’s college. That was where I had met Petria, the Ice Queen. \n\nHer perpetually calm demeanor and reserved manner intrigued me. My entire family was nothing but pyromancers. They were brash and outspoken. She said little. She rarely smiled. Even as I grasped her hand, it was ice cold. \n\nHowever, she completed me in a way that no one else could. She balanced me. \n\nAs we approached my parent’s house, the spires rose loomed over our heads. The fields of fire behind us cast our shadows on the door. The door itself stood high. \n\n“Sweetheart,” I told her, “I’ll have to use a spell to open the door. Standback.” \n\n“Okay,” she said flatly and backed away. \n\n“MIXTAPE!” I yelled extending my hand as I dropped super hot fire upon the door. \n\nThe door burst open and suddenly my family was there. My sister, My two uncles, my Father and my mother. My mother was the first out to rush out and greet me. \n\n“Oh my god, I missed you so much, my darling little boy!” She hugged me close and then held me at arm’s length, “I’m just so glad to see you.” \n\nShe dragged me by the hand into the hallway before I had the chance to see you and my sister took the opportunity to speak up, \n\n“We heard some nasty rumors about you.” \n\n“What’s that?” I asked. I didn’t think I did anything that could be distorted into a nasty rumor. \n\n“You know how your Mom gets when she speaks to your Aunt there, boy.” Said my father. \n\n“No, I don’t know. How do I get, Ricardo?” Said my Mom with the vein on her forehead actually poking out. It looked as if my father was about to land himself in hot water. \n\n“Boy we heard that the girl you’ve been dating is a little frigid.” Spoke up Uncle Marco\n\n“We heard you’ve come down with a cold.” Said Uncle Ernesto \n\n“That’s enough!” Yelled the Mother, “I know my darling boy wouldn’t do such a thing would he?” \n\nShe looked at me and I stood there, rage whirling inside of me. They knew nothing of the fiery passion I held for Petria. \n\n“Actually, I’d like you to meet her, she’s right outside. Petria?” I called out to her. \n\nThat was when she stepped out and made her appearance. Stepping out from the side of the doorway, she walked into doorway and that was when everyone, froze. \n" ]	5
	[WP] A rogue planet is going to destroy the earth in 8 months. The US government starts mandating all citizens report to Area 51 for telepathy training. 7 months and 3 weeks pass. You and millions of others are about to try and reroute the rogue planet.	[ "I don't really know how they did it elsewhere on Earth, but here's what I know of how they did it in Area 51. \n\nI was a member of the cleaning staff working the longest corridors you have ever seen. I slept in designated workrooms along the corridor. Every morning when the alarms rang I got up, visited the convenience room, then changed into my uniform and had a light snack and vitamins handed to me by breakfast staff, and finally proceeded to my task; to vacuum the miles and miles of light blue carpet down the infinite row of doors. At the end of the shift I logged in to another workroom. Perhaps it was a security matter. I didn't bring hardly any personal possessions along and never turned back the way I came; I always continued forward. The tunnels were endless. After nearly two years of working there I had yet to see the full scope of the compound.\n\nThe organization of the work close to drove me to the edge, when finally to my great relief I was permanently stationed in corridor K, sector Z, on room cleaning duty. I slept in a comfort box near the end of the corridor, and every morning I logged in for breakfast and vitamins at the workroom and finally set to work. The rooms behind the doors in corridor K were all identical; five beds, a wash area, a wardrobe and a table. The source of the faint light a gas filled tube on the ceiling and no windows, of course, on the grey walls only the ventilation grid and a built-in speaker that, among other things, promptly proclaimed the time and generally functioned as a calendar. \n\nSince I had been cleaning corridors such as this one from the very beginning, even before Rogue was announced, I know the first tenants are always the builders, who are replaced with workers, that millions of civilians had been herded up here in the compound for safety, but the type of tenant occupying these rooms I had never before come across. \n\nThey could be spotted appearing in the corridor, gliding silently on the carpet. They were pale. From their noses and ears came small tubes, and from the tubes thin strands of copper reached out into the ether. Sometimes they would howl and yelp at night, and I heard it from my comfort box, I heard how they begged to no one in particular to be removed from there, removed from lies and terror. Some of them were found stiff across the table or tightly curled up in bed, dead, but most of them just kept going. \n\nThey stacked leaflets in the corner of their rooms. It was from the leaflets I learned that not long after it was announced, there was a major breakthrough in the field of telepathy. They kept a log of their training, I found one in the garbage, but it was unintelligible to me, and as I was afraid that someone might walk in on me I didn't view it closer, but I glimpsed a drawing of what looked like a small helmet, and a margin filled with equations and exclamation marks. \n\nOccasionally circulating the corridors were the engineers, so they seemed to me, with their ink stained white robes and sheets of squared paper. There was a young engineer who stood out. As the months went by she looked increasingly ill at ease, and making her rounds she would stop to glance over her shoulder. Once as she was adjusting a copper wire and repeating her confidence in the recent findings, I heard her voice tremble. On the day I found it, I was just about to enter a room when suddenly the next door over burst open and she disappeared down the corridor... and she didn't notice how it fell out of her pocket.\n\nI knew as well as everyone Rogue was coming in our direction. It had never concerned me. The discoveries in the field of telepathy was to ward it off, the trainees were to do it. When I read the small note I had picked up from the carpet, I visited the convenience room and washed my face so long the guard duty remarked on it. \n\nOn the appointed day the trainees were collected and all staff directed further down the corridor towards a checkpoint, but I didn't go with them, I continued along the tunnels. I knew it was the only way, to never turn back, to move forward, until the end of the world.\n\nThe corridors were deserted and shrouded in silence. The compound still standing. I kept walking the blue carpet, mile after mile. I moved through the Z section and B section. I had just entered the N section when I spotted a trainee lingering by a door. I slowly made my way there. The trainee didn't move or otherwise acknowledge me. The tubes and wires were in disorder. I reached for the handle and opened the door.\n\nInside was a large room, where the trainees were sat on benches leaning over each other, their faces motionless. The wires were hooked up to cables coming down from the ceiling, and on their heads were small helmets. They were all dead. I don't know how they did it elsewhere, but this is what I know of how they did in in Area 51. Annihilation. Just what the note had said.\n\nAfter all this, I still wonder what happened with Rogue, why it did not collide with us. I walk the endless corridors, rarely I meet upon someone, I always sleep alone, right on floor. Night and day I spend in the compound, walking down tunnels, silently treading the light blue carpet, never reaching the way out; there are only ever more corridors, and I will carry my torment to the very last one, never learning why it did not collide with us.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"OK team, the time has come,\" said General Marshman. He stood tall at the podium, looking at the millions of people seated in front of him. They had all persevered through over 7 months of intensive telepathy training in order to attempt to reroute a rogue planet that was about to crash right into Earth. The crowd remained silent, but this was normal because the recruits tended to communicate with each other through telepathy rather than verbally in order to strengthen their telepathic powers.\n\n\"Focus your minds on these coordinates,\" commanded the General as he indicated a series of numbers currently being displayed on the Powerpoint presentation. \"Now let's show that rogue planet who's boss and reroute that bastard with the telepathic minds of true Americans!\"\n\nMinutes passed in silence.\n\n\"Is it working?\" whispered the General to Professor Stevens who was seated at a military-grade supercomputer at one end of the stage.\n\n\"No, sir,\" replied Stevens. \"The rogue planet's trajectory remains unchanged.\"\n\n\"But... how? Surely the combined telepathic abilities of millions of patriotic Americans is enough to knock a small planet off its path?\" asked the General.\n\n\"No,\" replied Stevens. \"Why should it? The fact that we are receiving no response from our telepathic endeavors just confirms that the planet is a non-living material that has no mind or capacity of higher thought. It's just a hunk of rock really.\"\n\n\"Sorry, what?\" asked the General, slightly confused. \n\n\"Telepathy is the ability to read minds, sir,\" said Stevens. The General stared, dumbfounded. \n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Telepathy is the communication of thoughts or ideas between minds in a nonverbal manner using only the power of thought alone.\"\n\n\"Wait, what the fuck?\" exclaimed the General. \"I thought we were training these citizens to use their minds to move the planet away from a collision course with Earth!?\"\n\n\"Oh, no, sir. That would be telekinesis. The power to move objects with one's mind.\"\n\n\"WHAT!?\" shouted the General. \"And you didn't think of telling me this 8 months ago!?\"\n\n\"Well, no, sir,\" replied Stevens. \"Your proposal clearly stated that 'a rogue planet is going to destroy earth in 8 months. The US government wishes to mandate all citizens to report to Area 51 for telepathy training'. I just followed your orders to the dot, sir.\"" ]	2
Inspired by Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide (old Nick show) in which the main character has Abraham Lincoln and Benedict Arnold as his angel and devil.	[WP] You don't have an angel and devil on your shoulder. You have other things.	[ "\"You should torture him to death and eat him. He looked at you the wrong way. Also, shiny.\"\n\n\"Eeew! Like, do you have any idea how many minutes of cardio that would take to burn off???\"\n\nWe've all seen the cartoons where people have an angel on one shoulder, trying to get them to live a good life, and a devil on the other leading them into temptation. If only!\n\n\"Your boss is a dick - Have you considered shredding his sofa?\"\n\n\"OhMiGawd, real leather, don't you dare!\"\n\nI wish. Angels and devils? I can understand those. Me? I have... A petulant siamese cat, and a valley girl.\n\n\"Have you considered poop-hockey? They're all asleep, no one will notice until the morning, then... Squish! Heh... Oooh, spider!\"\n\n\"Ugh, just steal the cah-ahr already! Your BFF texted you like twenty minutes ago, laaame!\"\n\nI find their advice maddeningly useless, for the most part. But every now and again...\n\n\"You need that! You need it now! Take it!\"\n\n\"Wow, like, I didn't know they even came in that color! Here, stick it under your shirt and go!\"\n\n...Every now and then, they agree, and I know just what to do.\n\nExactly the opposite of anything they agree on.\n\n\n\n", "\"Me name's Gump.\"\n\n\"I know Gump. You tell me that every morning.\"\n\n\"Mhmmm gonna tell you tomorrow morning too. Me name's Gump.\"\n\n\"Gump it's one in the afternoon. I'm tired.\"\n\n\"Mhmmm nap's be good.\"\n\nGump was a shoulder troll. He was pretty passive. He just wanted to make sure I acknowledged him from time to time. I did. He was a swell troll. His advice kind of sucked but his morals were good. I was at a party once and there was this drunk girl who carried me up to her room. She was just as drunk. We more carried each other. When we got there she plopped down on her bed and I plopped down beside her. Her eyes were barely open and I couldn't see straight. Grump gave me a poke and said, \"Nah, better not.\" \n\nI nodded. \"Right, better not.\" \n\n\"No rubber.\" He mumbled. \"Too drunk, you and her. Best to just cuddle.\"\n\n\"Mhmm.\" I agreed. \"Better just cuddle.\" Solid advice. That was a while ago, a few years I'd say. Today Gump is tired. Their personalities reflect my mood. I was tired today too. \n\n\"Gump. I have work in an hour.\"\n\n\"Mhmmmmm. Can't nap at work. No good.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"Sleep early tonight. Make it early to bed. Tired. Sheets are comfy.\" Grump nodded. He sat down and leaned against my neck. I felt bad so I picked him up and popped him into the hood of my sweater. I heard him grunt in satisfaction. \n\n\"Fuck work.\" Said Rump. \n\n\"Rump I need to go to work.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but fuck work. I'm tired.\" Yes, she is tired because I am tired. Grump was tired too. \n\n\"Yeah, but we need money to buy groceries-\"\n\n\"And beer. And vodka. No, not vodka, whiskey.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I perked up, \"and whiskey.\"\n\n\"Okay, don't fuck work. Work has Mika and Mika's fiery. Go to work. Talk to Mika. Get money. Buy whiskey. Drink whiskey. Drink whiskey with Mika. Kiss Mika.\" He hissed on the 's' of whiskey. I really wanted to kiss Mika. \n\n\"Solid plan.\"\n\nOn one shoulder I had Mr. Gump, on the other shoulder I had a small, alcoholic, black-and-green dragon. His name was Rump. Apparently his name was originally Jerry when I was younger, but he was jealous of how much I liked Grump and so he tried to steal his name. When I told him he couldn't have Grump's name he then chose Rump. Rump is rambunctious. Rump is where I get my confidence. \n\n\"It makes my fire burn bright.\" That was true. When I am drunk Rump's fire seems to burn the brightest. At first I thought they were just my imagination, except one night a few years ago I was at a party which was not to my liking. It wasn't to say it was a bad party but it wasn't my kind of gathering. I went to the patio to have a smoke and I realized I did not have a lighter. Rump, being a gracious drunk, lit my smoke for me with his fire. I had to think twice. I checked my pockets, my shirt, and the floor around me. There was nothing, nothing to start a fire. \n\n\"Oh shit, you're real...\"\n\n\"No fucking shit, you twat.\" Rump hissed.\n\n\"Mhmmm yupp.\" Grump agreed. \n\nSince then they have had a large impact on my life. Grump guides me by day, and Rump by night. That's partly due to the fact Grump can't stay awake past sunset. He's a tired little thing. Rump is lazy, and wont be awake until late in the afternoon. \n\nI was still a fifteen minute walk away from work. Rump was pinching my shoulder so I grabbed him with my hand and cradled him against my chest. Each person, I assume, has their own manifestations of morality. Mine is a mix between passive and good, and alcoholic and boastful. It was true. Sober, I was a man of few opinions and agreed with the crowd. Drunk, I would be loud, I would fight, and I would push my way. I also had a talent of tongue, which brought me a little luck with a few ladies. That was Rump. He would whisper in my ear when a girl was near and he would tell me just what I needed to say. \n\n\"Don't bite, Rump.\" Rump was nibbling on my finger. \n\n\"Fuck off ya twat.\" Rump said. I covered his eyes with a little piece of cloth and he began to sleep. Lizards are easy to put to bed. Grump was snoring loudly behind me. \n\n" ]	2
Inspired by this [comment thread](https://www.reddit.com/r/talesfromtechsupport/comments/4edbjq/sanityexe_is_crashing/d1zab1s)	[WP] Your fingers move a lot in your sleep and one day your S/O puts a typewriter under your hands...	[ "Hey guys, this is my first attempt at a WP. Thought I'd have a go! It's not the longest as I wrote this during my break at work! Hope you enjoy :)\n\n **\n\nThe next morning, Thomas woke up in the chair, afraid to look at the names he had damned in his sleep this time. He turned the typewriter away so he could not see the names, as if somehow that would lessen the guilt that absorbed him. He placed the typewriter on the table and walked to the window, staring out at the sky, wracking his brain to try and make sense of this madness.\n\nHe could hear Samantha come down the stairs and into the room. \n\n“Hey.” She said, softly, as she wrapped her hands around him from behind, holding him tightly, “It’s going to be ok.”\n\n“It happened again.” Thomas sighed.\n\n“And? Did you see the names?” Samantha asked as she stood back slowly.\n\n“Not yet. I couldn’t bring myself to look. They’re not just names anymore Sam. There’s are real people!” Thomas’ emotions began to build, his hands trembled. \nBehind him, he could hear Samantha walk to the table and slowly pull the paper out of the typewriter. \n\n“I won’t tell you if you don’t want me to. I can keep it to myself and that way you won’t have to know. We can just throw it away and stop this pain.” She offered. \n\n“It’s too late. I can’t undo this Sam.” Thomas’ head dropped, tears started to fill his eyes as he pictured Sam holding the paper and waited to hear the names. Then he heard a loud thud behind him.\n\n“THOMAS!” Samantha’s horrifying wail filled the house.\n\nThomas bolted round and saw Samantha on her knees, ghostly white. She was gripping the paper with both hands and staring at with a look that Thomas had never, nor would want to ever see on her face. \n\n“Sam! Sam! Who is it!?” Thomas begged.\n\nSamantha slowly looked up from the paper, her body shivering. She looked into Thomas’ eyes.\n\n“Sam? Babe, please! Who is it?” Thomas repeated slowly.\n\nSamantha looked at Thomas and then returned her gaze to the paper, tears now flooding from her eyes. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to tell Thomas, when a voice came from the doorway.\n\n“Mummy.”\n", "In the beginning, Susan thought it was an endearing quirk. She noticed it, of course, the first time Ryan spent the night. They had already been seeing each other for a few weeks before the timing was finally right. Her roommate was out of town for the weekend, Ryan had taken her out to a nice dinner downtown, and in return, Susan picked up the tab for a few after dinner drinks. They were pleasantly buzzed, perfectly comfortable, and exceptionally horny. So back to her place it was. That was the first night they spent together. \n\nSusan woke up to a slight headache and a full bladder around 4am. After making her way back to the bedroom, Susan stood in the doorway for a moment to enjoy the view. Ryan was laying on her embarrassingly pink bedsheets, hugging that teddy bear that she’s been meaning to get rid of (or at least pack away) since leaving college. As she stood there, admiring his muscled back and too small ass, she noticed his fingers twitching. \n\nThat was all. No great revelation at the time. Just twitching fingers and that old teddy bear. \n\n\t\t\t\t--------------------------------------------\n\nShe noticed again a few months later. Again, as she was climbing back into bed, she saw his twitching fingers and was reminded of their first night together. It gifted her with a small smile as she drifted back to sleep. In the morning, as the two lay together in bed, discussing where to have brunch, and Ryan already complaining about going back to work on Monday, Susan remembered the fingers.\n \n“oh hey, I had the cutest thought last night.” \n\n“if it isn’t about eggs benedict and a carafe of mimosas, then I don’t care” he teased, then kissed her on the cheek, just to be sure. \n\n“ha ha, shut up. No, it was something that reminded me of the first time you stayed the night. I’m not even sure why I remember it. Just this cute little twitch in your fingers while you’re sleeping.”\n\n“that doesn’t surprise me, I guess. I’m pretty cute. Now how about Arnold’s for brunch?”\n\n“Ugh, they have the worst coffee. What about Boathouse?” \n\nAnd that was the end of that conversation. \n\n\t\t\t\t-------------------------------------------\n\nThe two moved into the perfect downtown apartment together. It had everything they wanted. An easy walk to work for Ryan and a chalkboard wall for Susan. It was perfect. The first night they moved in together Susan couldn’t sleep out of pure excitement. \n\nHow could we decorate the kitchen? \nShould I pick a color to paint the bathroom, then get a shower curtain to match, or the other way around? \nI can do monthly murals on the chalkboard! \nWho am I kidding, I already know what shower curtain I want. Seafoam green it is. \n\nAs Susan lay awake with giddy excitement, she glanced over at Ryan, just hoping for one of those sappy romantic comedy moments where someone stares at their sleeping partner, smiles, and breathes a heavy contented sigh. She got halfway through the sigh before she noticed Ryan’s fingers twitching. At first all she felt was an amused happiness. But that was quickly replaced by a mild curiosity. \n\nDid this happen every night? \nWere his fingers always twitching? \nWeird. \n\nThen those thoughts were again replaced by a single, more important concern. \n\nWhere can I find a cute, seafoam green bathmat?\n\n\t\t\t----------------------------------------------------\nTwo days later were when things got weird. \n\nSusan was at home alone. She had taken the day off work to finish unpacking and getting settled. NPR played in the background while she unwrapped the dishes and found homes for the Tupperware. Frankly, Susan wasn’t a huge fan of NPR, but that’s what she thought people her age should be listening to. Plus, that bitch Michelle from work was always talking about it. \n\nWe hate Michelle. \n\nSo there Susan was, not listening to NPR, putting away dishes, thinking about how happy she was with their new apartment with the chalkboard wall, when something she heard piqued her interest. It was an offhand comment from one of the guests on whatever NPR show was on. He was a sleep scientist, or something weird like that, and was talking about some of the interesting cases he had seen. Everything from your run-of-the-mill sleep walkers, to sleep eaters, and even some sleep fighters. \n\n“I even studied one patient who, it turns out, composed music while he slept. Couldn’t do it while he was awake, and the music wasn’t that good, but it was still quite fascinating.”\n\nThat got Susan thinking. What if Ryan’s finger twitching wasn’t just finger twitching? What if something else was going on? \n\nI guess it kinda looks like playing a piano. Oh my god, what if Ryan secretly plays piano in his sleep?! Then we could be on NPR and that bitch Michelle could really go suck it! \n\nAnd that’s how Susan came to be so determined to figure this out. When Ryan came home for lunch that afternoon, she explained everything to him. That she thought the finger twitching wasn’t just a random thing, but that maybe it happened every night. That she thought it may be some secret talent or something trying to sneak out. That she was going to do some research and figure this out. \n\nHe was pretty cool about it. \n\nAnd so she began. \n\nAs it turns out, it did happen every night. She would wake herself up to check, and occasionally watch for a while. It appeared to happen every night, and maybe even all night. He would do it for a long time, anyway. This information just made Susan more excited to keep digging. After a while of casual observation, she was ready to experiment. She went out and bought a keyboard, waited for the weekend, so she wouldn’t have to worry about being too tired at work the next day, and then, when the day finally came, waited for Ryan to drift asleep and start his twitching. Nervously, excitedly, Susan slipped the keyboard under his fingers and waited for the beautiful symphony she was convinced would come. \n\nIt scared the shit out of him. \n\nTurns out she forgot to warn him, and the sudden explosion of loud noise right next to his ear did not sit well. After a few choice curse words, a halfhearted “goddamnit, Sue”, and a playful tug into bed, the two went back to sleep. \n\nThe following weekend, Susan reattempted her experiment, this time with headphones plugged in. Again, she slid the instrument under his hands, and listened. She listened to the cacophonous racket that was decidedly not a beautiful symphony. She decided to listen a little longer. I mean, maybe you can’t just pick up in the middle of things. He has to catch his stride. \n\nIt didn’t get better. \n\n\t\t\t----------------------------------------------------\n\nThe next afternoon, disheartened, Susan was walking the streets, on the verge of giving up her crusade. She realized there was no way that sound could be called music. Maybe it was just twitching after all. Maybe Ryan just had a weird tick. At least that bitch Michelle wouldn’t have to know. \n\nAs she was having these thoughts, Susan conveniently looked into a storefront just in time to see an old typewriter. It was a beautiful machine, and just the inspiration she needed to keep going.\n\nTyping! Of course! That must be it! \n\n\nSusan even took a few steps into the antique shop to buy the old thing before she realized that she was being ridiculous. \n\nShe could never slide a typewriter under his hand.\n\nAnd the noise alone would wake him. \n\nA wireless keyboard would work just fine. \n\nAnd so, that night, after Ryan fell asleep, and everything was all set to go, Susan sat beside the bed. She stared at the beautiful man in the bed they shared, and the keyboard which didn’t normally share their bed, and vowed that if this didn’t work, she would give up and go back to being not crazy. And with that, Susan sild the keyboard under his swiftly moving fingers and turned to look at the computer’s screen. \n\nTo her amazement, words started appearing. Actual words! The same ones, over \nand over again. Continually. Susan just sat back and watched. And smiled. And eventually climbed in bed beside Ryan, leaving the keyboard in place, his fingers typing away, and the computer screen continually repeating his message. Blinking over and over again:\n\n \n\nI LOVE HER. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER.\n", "jukk gun jukk gun biq jukk gun jukk gun biq jukk gun biq jukk gun. \n\nThe letters on the paper continued with this exact same pattern all the way across the line. Although a deep sleeper, Sarah's slumber was not so impervious to outside influences as to not be awoken by Tony's attempt to return the carriage. Of all the ways to wake up, a loud ding accompanied by a large face looming over you is among the worst.\n\nSarah muttered something which in her head sounded like 'What the bloody hell are you doing?' but what actually came out was “Wurrder blowhole yoodoon?”.\n\n“Helping!” came the infuriatingly jovial reply. Sarah loved Tony unconditionally but he was a Morning Person which, in her eyes, was akin to being a Puppy Strangler. “I've been noticing it over the past week, you always complain about not being able to write anything of any worth, but as soon as you fall asleep you start doing the hand motion of typing. The record is about two and a half hours before I fell asleep and couldn't count any more!”\n\nWiping the sleep from her eyes with the back of her arm, Sarah decided to entertain this charade for a little while longer before finally getting back to the lie-in she'd promised herself.\n\n“Okay, fine, what does it say?”\n\n“Uh...” He scrutinises the paper, “It says 'juck gun, juck gun... bique' over and over again. Here have a look. He hands over the paper and Sarah receives it the way a doting parent receives a crayon drawing from their infant child. Oh, you've made me type out some nonsense mumbo-jumbo, have you? I'll just put that on the fridge...\n\n“Hmm. Well, I'll file this under all the other ill-thought-out rubbish I've produced so far, thanks.” With that she attempted to throw the paper to the other side of the bedroom. Unfortunately, she forgot to crunch the page up into a ball first and so the paper drifted back to her lap, mocking her as it did so.\n\n“Maybe the typewriter was off-centre.” Tony piped up in that ineffably cheery manner of his, “Here, try typing it out again, but hit each key that's adjacent to the key you hit for that first line.” Sarah took a moment to comprehend this jumble of words that apparently meant something before eventually understanding.\n\nHe hoisted the typewriter up onto Sarah's lap. She sighed the sigh of one resigned to not sleeping any time soon. “Start by hitting each key to the left of the original!”\n\n“Okay, fine,” She put the piece of paper back in and, just below the genesis line, deliberately began typing, “Okay, so, 'B'... 'Y'... 'J...” This continued until the new line of 'byjj fyb byjj fyb vu' was followed by the tab key, at which point Tony pointed out that this couldn't actually be correct, to which Sarah concurred with a disgruntled sigh. \n\nLeaning over her to return the carriage, Tony cried out “Well, let's try each key to the right!”\n\nSarah nodded briskly, one hand massaging her forehead as Tony dictated out each letter of the new configuration.\n\nHe looked to the top of the page. 'jukk gun jukk gun biq'.\n\n“Okay, so... “K”... “I”...”", "It was like missing a piece of my soul. Almost six months had eclipsed and I had written next to nothing. It was worse than losing a hobby. It was losing the only friend who had been by my side my entire life.\n\nMy doctor called it depression. My wife called it burn out. My therapist told me it would come back, and my wife tried to find me inspiration. I gave up on it, my head churning around the idea that it might simply never be found. I made sure not to voice this concern because I was afraid that doing so might give the fear validity. \n\nFor the first month or so I had sat at the kitchen table and stared at my empty typewriter. The paper taunted me, laughing that I could not fill it. After a while I put it away for good. I hadn't looked at it since, but I imagined that five months later it must be dusty. Sometimes I would stare at the box and think about the neglect I had caused the typewriter. Some part of me hoped it would lead to inspiration, but in the end it often just made things worse. \n\nOne night, about two weeks ago, I had a dream that the devil had come to visit me. He told me that if I gave him something he wanted he would tell me the meaning of life. I readily agreed, looking desperately around for a pen and paper to write his tale. \n\nIn the morning, I remembered the dream but not the contents of what the devil had told me. I kept the contents to myself. It was, after all, only a dream. \n\nBut the same dream kept repeating. Every night the devil appearing, promising to tell me the meaning of life if I gave him something in return. It was never clear quite what he wanted, and each morning I woke up with no memory of the tale itself. Only that the devil had come to visit me.\n\nOn the sixth morning I told my wife. She pursed her lips and came to press her fingers into my shoulders. \"Maybe you're stressed out.\" This seemed like an obvious statement. I hadn't written anything in almost six months. \n\nOn the eighth morning I woke up to my wife brandishing a piece of paper at me. \"I stayed up to watch you sleep last night and I saw your fingers were moving. Did you have the same dream again?\"\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"I thought about what to do all yesterday. Then I was sitting in the living room and I glanced over at the box where you keep your typewriter and this feeling came over me like it was the answer. So last night I stayed awake until your fingers started to move, and then I put the typewriter beneath them.\" \n\n\"But I don't remember any of the Devil's story.\" \n\nMy wife handed me the paper. \"I don't think you need to. I think you wrote it down last night.\"\n\nIt was only a single page, and it was clear that there was more to write. But it was obviously the same story. Each word that I read caused some shift in my brain, making me remember that part of what the devil had said in my dream. \n\nI turned to my wife and began to read aloud.\n\nIt was a dark and stormy night...*" ]	4
	[WP] One person is born in every hundred million people with the ability to resurrect a single person from the dead, regardless of who they are or how long they've been dead.	[ "It took me a long time to realize I was awake.\n\nIn fact I am certain I wouldn't have noticed, were it not for the whisper. In the pitch dark silence, sometimes it's hard to tell whether or not you are conscious. When you sleep in the same quiet black void you wake up to, after a while the line between them seems to blur. This was not one of those times. This was different.\n\nThe whisper was faint. I could tell it was calling me - it had an insistent pull that I couldn't seem to shake - but without urgency. It seemed sad. And lonely. And lost. I haven't heard much in the past while. Well, that isn't entirely true. I've heard, but I haven't listened. But this whisper... \n\nWas I dreaming? The thought just occurred to me. I didn't usually dream, so was that what its like? Voices in my head? I hoped not. Maybe I was just going insane. I wasn't young, but even so that'd be a bit early to be going senile. My face was stiff, but slowly and surely the corners of my mouth crawled up to my cheeks. The pose felt refreshing despite the tired rigidity of my muscles. It had been a while since my last smile.\n\nThe whisper came again, louder this time.\n\n\"...Shared some good times... I swear to God...\" It sounded so familiar. I wracked my brain for the matching body it belonged to, but drew a blank. It seemed to be talking about happy times. As it went on it became clearer and louder in my mind. Closer, even.\n\n\"I'm so sorry... deserved better... damned car...\" Now it was sad. Whatever this voice was, I wanted it out. In fact, I just wanted to go back to bed. Sleep was peaceful. But the next phrase woke me up entirely.\n\n\"I wish we could go out just one more time.\"\n\nAt that I became acutely aware of my surroundings. The blackness was still black, and the whisper still soft, but now it was muffled, almost incomprehensible. I tried talking back to it, but my voice was nothing but ragged breaths. I realized that I now had movement in my arms and legs, but the right side of my body wasn't cooperating. I began to panic, frantically shuffling around, trying to understand what had happened... but then I froze, as all of my memories came flooding back.\n\nI remembered the accident, how quickly the two headlights approached my best friend. I remember the adrenaline as I sprinted for him, arms outstretched. I remembered pushing him hard, the impact force sending him flying. And I remember looking back at the headlights, and for a split second wondering where they went before looking down and noticing they were a foot and a half from my hips.\n\nI briefly remember the hospital. I came to once before slipping back into the silent embrace of my lovely slumber. It was only a short moment, but I distinctly remember my best friend looking the doctor straight in the eyes and saying: \"I don't know how.\"\n\nI must be exiting a coma. I'm blind, and that's why its dark. My friend was just unable to understand, that's all. I tried a dozen different theories to try and explain my situation, but only one seemed to account for all of this: the urban legends were true. My best friend was one in a hundred million and brought me back from the dead... just too late.\n\nNow that it has been ten minutes, I believe I've come to terms with my predicament. I am in a coffin. I died at the hands of a drunk driver, and was brought back at the command of a grieving friend. The right half of my body is impaired and my throat is ripped open. The only thing I am able to do is wait to die again. It won't be long now before the air starts to run out. The first time I was blessed with a quick and painless death. I will not have that luxury the second time around.\n\nAs my lungs began to burn, I could hear my friend's soft footsteps on the grass above as he walked away, leaving me to die alone.\n", "Harold was one of them. There was approximately 1 every year. 5 occurrences every four years. A lot of people had been brought back from the dead. \n\nHarold wondered who there was to bring back. It seemed like all the cool people had already been seen again. Hitler had been interrogated. Stalin had been prosecuted for his crimes. Jesus Christ - who actually had existed - was found to just be a simple boy who had been used as a prophet. \n\nHarold didn't want to be one of those ones who brought back a dead cat or his grandmother. He drafted a list of names and went through them one by one with his best friend Joey.\n\n\"What about Thomas Jefferson?\"\n\n\"Already brought back.\"\n\n\"Benjamin Franklin?\"\n\n\"Done already.\"\n\nHarold tapped his pencil against his desk. \"What about Steve Irwin?\" \n\n\"Yeah. Last year, they did the special about it. Don't you remember?\" \n\nThe names got crossed off one by one. Vonnegut, Hemingway, Charlie Chaplin, Amelia Earhart, Lenin, Lennon. \n\n\"There's just no one good anymore!\" Harold threw his pencil across the room. \"Why does it even matter if I can bring someone back from the dead if it can't be someone cool like Heath Ledger or Madonna?\"\n\n\"Actually Madonna is still alive.\"\n\n\"Seriously? Is she a dinosaur or what?\"\n\nJoey didn't answer. Instead he went through the list again. All of the names had been crossed out. \"You could just wait a few years, until someone cool dies.\"\n\n\"But I want to use it now.\" Harold stamped his foot. \"I've waited fourteen years for this moment!\"\n\n\"What about Marilyn?\"\n\n\"Monroe?\"\n\n\"No. Marilyn. From down the street. She made good cookies, man.\"\n\nHarold sighed and sat down. \"I just don't want to be one of those. There has to be something cool out there. There has to be some cool dead person who hasn't been brought back. What about Ted Bundy?\"\n\n\"Uh...actually, no. Still dead.\"\n\n\"Perfect,\" Harold clapped his hands together. \"I'll bring back Ted Bundy! What could go wrong with that?\"\n\n---\n\n/r/Celsius232 \n\n", "GoPro Camera recording? Check. Chair in appropriate position? Check. Pistol, lock and loaded? Check. Obviously needed X on the floor? Check. \n\n\"Well, time to join the club.\" I stated, into the camera. \"I, Anon65, am about to join the IKH Club. Enjoy, you weird and crazy people.\"\n\nI approached the X, and put my hand on the floor. Concentrating, I called out in my mind to summon the dead, to pull him here, whether he wanted it or not. I heard an echo, a response, he would be summoned soon. Opening my eyes and smiling, I walked over and sat down into the chair and waited.\n\nThirty seconds later, in a puff of smoke and ash, he appeared. A man in a militaristic uniform and cap with an small patch of hair above his lips. He opened his eyes and looked at me, and frowned.\n\n\"Nicht noch einmal.\" BANG\n\nThe man dropped to the floor, and slowly crumpled to dust. I stood up and approached the camera again.\n\n\"I, Anon65, have joined the 'I Killed Hitler Club'.\"\n\nStopping the recording, I took the GoPro over to my computer and went to work. An hour later, mess cleaned up, I posted my video, and waited to see the comments scroll by.", "I could raise a scientist \nLike Einstein or Bohr. \nIt's 2052, \nAnd we could do more. \n\nI could bring back a peace man \nLike Ghandi or King, \nTo guide us more forward, \nAnd make that a thing. \n\nI could bring back an artist \nLike Hals or Rembrandt. \nHe would have to be Dutch, \nNo one said I can't. \n\nI could bring back a general \nLike Tzu or Sherman, \nAnd show everyone else, \nWhere war's really been. \n\nI could bring back anyone \nAnyone at all, \nBut the choice must be mine, \nThis must be my call. \n \nWhy not Hitler or Stalin, \nTo make them my staff? \nOr Williams or Carson, \nTo give me a laugh? \n \nYou know what, I've decided. \nPerhaps a latina... \nAh forget it, \nI've chosen. \n[AND HIS NAME IS...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=enMReCEcHiM) ", "I made myself a liar.\n\nI was not selfish - I told my neighbors and their families to come to my home. Everyone who came would be heard, I said, and I would make my decision. But as I looked out on the crowd, I knew it could not be so.\n\nThe entire country was at my doorstep.\n\nThe crowd touched the horizon. There were campfires and tents and a mile-wide moat of dusty, brown heads with dirty, brown faces, all looking at me. The mass of people, millions as far as I could tell, heaved and sighed like the tide of the ocean. \n\nAs I scanned the crowd, I saw fights break out. There was a flash of metal, and spurts of red. Someone was sucked under. A mother held the corpse of her child in the air, sobbing as limp limbs dangled and slapped against her head. The waves of people collapsed on top of her and stole her from my sight.\n\nThat is how Resurrection Day began.\n\nI beckoned a couple out of the crowd. The father muscled a path through the swarms as the mother, cradling a swaddled lump in her arms, made her weeping way up my doorstep. I tried to ignore the shouts, the smack of flesh on flesh as the crowd filled the couple's spot.\n\nI had them sit on my porch, in full view of the writhing mass of people.\n\n\"Please, our baby,\" the mother was frothing over with emotion, \"You have to bring her back.\" \n\n\"Why?\" I had to be cold. If it was in my power to bring back all the dead, maybe I could be warmer. But this was a one-in-a-hundred-million chance. Nobody else I knew had this power. Nobody else understood the weight of this responsibility...\n\n\"Why?\" the father's face was red, \"What do you mean why?\"\n\n\"Why this child? Because it is yours?\" I gestured out to the crowd, \"And what about their children? Do they not matter?\"\n\nThe mother choked, tears cleaning the dirt from her cheeks. The father glared at me, hatred burning like a thousands suns.\n\nNext, came a woman. She was young, beautiful, and so was the corpse she dragged behind her. She set down the wooden litter, and told me her story.\n\n\"This was my husband. We were married for barely a year. Please, you have to bring him back - he was a doctor. He was the only doctor for twenty miles.\"\n\nI wanted to sympathize with her. I could see the hurt in her eyes, the love, still-fresh and brimming over her, ready to be given to her dearly departed. \n\n\"Please!\" she went on, \"Have you never been in love?\"\n\nYes, I had a lover once. But he deserved what he got. I would never bring him back.\n\n\"I can not be so selfish,\" I said, \"This gift is worth more than a single lover. What is your husband worth? How many lives did he save?\"\n\nI saw the pain replaced by fear. I saw that she now understood - she would have to fight for her husband. She might even have to lie to save him.\n\n\"A hundred! Two hundred! And he's only just begun!\"\n\nShe did not stop begging, but I stopped listening. I knew then she would say anything to bring him back. I knew then that he was not the one. I told her to leave.\n\nShe did not go lightly. Several men leaped up from the crowd to pull her off me, clawing and screeching.\n\nThe sun had risen above the clouds before I met the Man with the Accent. The masses had grown sweaty, tired. People had wandered away to escape the heat of the day, and for that I was thankful.\n\nI do not think the Man with the Accent was waiting for his turn. I think he had found a hole in the throngs of people, and had inserted himself at a moment when nobody was looking.\n\nWhen he came up to my porch, I saw that he carried no dead with him.\n\n\"Where is your dead?\" I asked.\n\n\"I have none.\" he replied, the hint of a smile peeking out from his lips.\n\n\"Then what do you want from me?\"\n\n\"You know what I want.\"\n\nI shook my head. I was too tired to play games.\n\n\"Fine,\" he said, \"At least I know what you want.\"\n\nI raised my eyebrows. He looked strangely familiar, this Man with the Accent.\n\n\"You and I,\" he said, \"We are similar. We both have the gift, though I have held on to mine far longer than you.\"\n\nI put my hands on my chair, and lifted myself up. Yes, I did know him. He had traveled through our country, once. There had been a crowd, then, too. He said he could raise one person - only one - from the dead, and he was looking for that person.\n\n\"Well,\" he continued, \"Now I am ready to use my gift.\"\n\n\"On who?\"\n\n\"On you,\" his grin widened, \"In exchange, I want only that you give me yours.\"\n\nA gift for a gift. He wanted me to bless him with a second life, in exchange for doubling my own. \n\nIt would almost be selfish to say no, wouldn't it?" ]	5
	[WP]Every time you cry, a natural disaster occurs.	[ "Its not a bad life. In fact, it's pretty good. \n\nThey figured it out pretty early. Babies cry all the time, of course. But after the first week or so, my parents started connecting the dots. After all, in the age if information, news of disasters spreads with unprecedented speed.\n\nThey weren't sure what to do about it. They spoke with our family doctor about general 'colic', and he gave them the typical advice, but when they contacted him a few times too often and showed significant signs of distress, he must have mentioned it to someone. \n\nLess than a month later, the government got involved. Tests were run. Consequences were confirmed. And I was taken. \n\nImagine being a child whose happiness was paramount to the safety of the world. I was kept happy as a clam, distracted when even the beginnings of an upset were detected, and slept 12 hours a day. Sleep was a safe time, so it was encouraged.\n\nOf course, as I got older, things became a bit more complicated. Desires greater than 'hold me', 'feed me', 'play with me' started rearing their heads. And don't even get me started on puberty.\n\nOn the other hand, this also was the point where they could safely start feeding me mood stabilizers. If I couldn't feel sad enough to get upset, I couldn't work up the emotional energy to cry. Not a bad thing, really. \n\nBut on the other hand, I can't enjoy an orchestral performance to the point where it brings me to tears. I can't cry at a happy ending to a movie. If I ever have children (unlikely, considering the possibility of this condition being passed down), I'll never be able to cry at their wedding.\n\nSo no, it's not a bad life. But it's not a good life either. ", "They kept me contained since a child. The reasoning was kept hidden from me all these years. Every morning they would pump tube after tube of various hormones into my bloodstream. I don't think I can even recall the last time I felt anything but unrelenting happiness. \n\nI had grown keen to one of the women that would visit me every day. She showed compassion; a refreshing break from the monotony of white coats and needles. The warmth of her touch was the highlight of my otherwise strict-scheduled day.\n\nShe would silently slip me pieces of information she wasn't supposed to reveal. She would let me know when it was my birthday, or when a major holiday was approaching. Simple things. From these little slips I had gathered I was 17 years old tomorrow. She made me excited about these things that seemed to have little importance. After all, I had never known anything other than a smile.\n\nThe morning of my birthday was no different than others. Routine, routine, routine. Finally it was her turn to administer her allotted dose of hormones. She came into the room and took a seat next to me. Something was off about her today. There was a sense of impending worry in her eyes. Her hands shook as she quietly reached up and brushed her fingers through my hair.\n\n\"They're monsters.\" she choked out, \"We've all been lied to. All this time and the truth comes out today.\" She pulled out that familiar syringe. \"Researching a cure turned out to be the exact opposite. You never deserved this life...\" she uncapped the syringe and held me close. \"I have to do what's right for you and the world.\"\n\nShe stuck the cold tip of the needle into my arm. This time it felt different. The comforting surge of warmth dissipated into an unfamiliar feeling of creeping sickness. She held me tighter as my body grew chill. I felt a pressure behind my eyes that I had no recollection of ever experiencing before.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" she whispered.\n\nA tear rolled out of my eye for the first time. " ]	2
	[WP] A generic RPG story (such as, but not necessarily, "the princess has been kidnapped!") from the villain's point of view. Make the audience sympathetic to his/her cause.	[ "In the darkness of the cave I sit and await my final battle, and final fate. It has been centuries in the making, but alas I am the last. It wasn't always this way, no indeed at one time my kind were as numerous as the sands of a beach. That however was before they came, that was before man appeared. There were those of the ancient council that wanted to immediately wipe them from our precious lands and shores. They wanted to make war with man and obliterate the species before they could spread. Those of us back then that desired peace with all of those we encountered, objected to such a harsh and cold action. We argued that surely we could find common ground with these new creatures, as we had so many others. We were so very mistaken. Where as other species learned to adapt to our continent and environment, man destroyed all in its path to adjust the land to its needs. Where as we cherished all live from the tiny sprite that awoke the flowers, to the giant dragons of the fire mountains. Man, well man only cared for itself. Entire species were lost in such a short time, in a few short decades the council had shrunk already. Again the more warlike of us urged for war and death for all mankind, and again so foolishly those more peaceable among us argued for peace. \n\nOne hundred years passed, and my kind endeavored to make peace with mankind a reality. We befriended them, taught them our ways, shared our magics. For all our kindness and friendship, we were repaid with betrayal and death. We were enslaved, and dissected. We were hunted to our numbers were so very few. We met again with the ancient council, of the one thousand members now only six remained. Six races were all that were left of our once great unity and civilization. My kind were finally ready for war, finally ready to face harsh truths and remove man from our home. However, it was already too late. There were no remaining warlike races to take up the call, and the six races remaining didn't posses the numbers for what was required. We decided to amass our magic and remaining power and relocate to a nearby large island.\n\nWe moved, and we settled, we set up barriers that would let no other in. For a time things were good, we seemed to thrive and start to prosper once more. Then two hundred years later, they arrived again. How they breached our barriers we will never know. How they found the heart of us so fast was beyond our understanding. Never could we imagine a species so selfish and self absorbed, yet so driven and curious. The last council meeting was called, the empty seats burned into us more than any statement truly could. There were two of us left, two out of one thousand, and we represented only a handful of those two races. We discussed our impending doom, we looked back with clarity at our mistakes when it came to dealing with man. Then a desperate plan was born, a plan not to save us, but to make sure we were never forgotten. \n\nWe gathered the last of our people, magic, and power. We made a great sacrifice and created the ultimate weapon. It cost us all but the handful needed to carry out the plan. Six of us were all that remained, six beings from millions. We went to the corners of their empire, and we released our weapon. Wherever we deployed it, death and destruction followed for the humans. They called it \"The Black Death\", we called it retribution.\n\nThey found out it was us that had done this horror to them, and their hate was swift. Over the last fifty years they have hunted down the other five, and now I alone am left. I hear them now, a band of them in their beaten metal they call armor. They will end me, of that I am sure for I have no magic or power left. I am the last, I await them. I await the chance to be re-united with all of my old people. ", "King Sivle was mine, you know. Always was\n\nWhen I was small and just a gel runnin' round my mam's and aunties' knees in the royal kitchens, he came in one day -- he was just a young Prince Sivle back then, 'course -- beggin' for some sweets. I knocked him on his bum, he called a me rotten twat who needed to remember my place, and that was that. I wasn't allowed to leave the kitchen, but he came in every day -- lots of times every day -- always with some excuse about what he wanted that hadn't nothin' to do with me. But then he'd always catch my eye and grin his big stupid grin and his big stupid ears would go bright red to match his stupid red hair.\n\nI loved him.\n\nWhen we got a bit older, I was the Prince's first. He certainly weren't mine, as I'd been rollin' around in the hay with the stable boys since my teats first popped up, and even had to visit the old crone out in the woods a time or two when my belly started to grow in an inconvenient sort of way. That daft little Silve came to me late one night, breath full of wine, fumbled his way into my nethers, and spent himself right away.\n\nAnd he was hooked.\n\nAfter that first time, he started coming to me every night. By that time, I was full on working in the kitchens with my mam and aunties and couldn't give him the time of day when he came in the kitchen grinning his mad fool grin, but he kept on coming. After a couple of weeks of nightly visits, one of my aunties who knew what I was up to after dark with the prince gave me a bottle of a tincture she said she got from the crone. Said to take a bit every day with breakfast, and I'd not have to head to the crone in an urgent way when the prince spent himself in me on the right night. Gave me an awful headache sometimes, but I reckon it worked, as I never had to visit the crone except to get more of the tincture.\n\nEventually, the old King passed on, and Prince Sivle became King Sivle. He took for his queen a princess from some far away land -- gorgeous little thing, but mean as a snake, and couldn't speak right. After he was wed, the now-King's stopped visitin' me nights. I decided I'd best move on, and started makin' eyes at Jonathan, one of the stable boys. I'd had a vew roll-arounds with him when we were ruttin' kids, but he had certainly grown up since then. Jonathan had a chest like an oak barrel and arms like tree trunks -- far stronger than the King, and much more creative in the hay, as it turned out. But he was also kind, and after just a few months, we went up to the Abbey together and made ourselfs right in front of God. \n\nJonathan had a little cottage in a secluded vale on the castle grounds that had been his uncles, and I set about making it our home. I also stopped taking the crone's tincture, and after just a few months, a baby started to grow in me. It weren't an inconvenience anymore, and I was excited about becomin' a mam myself. \n\nJonathan knocked together a crib from some planks that were lyin' around the stables, and scrubbed the insides with stone until they were smooth. Little Johnny turned came out of me screamin' louder than I was on a hot summer night with my mam and a couple aunties all fussin' around, and Jonathan sittin' in the corner looking terrified. They gave me a little time out of the castle kitchens to keep Little Johnny until he was big enough to go to the servent's creche next to the kitchens. I was able to go to him for nursin' when he needed it, and he grew up strong and healthy.\n\nMeanwhile, rumor around the castle was that the queen couldn't keep a baby in her. She'd go plump, then it would die. I reckon she just had too much piss and vinegar in her for a baby to live!\n\nWhen Johnny was just 18 months, Jonathan got my belly plump once again! When the baby arrived, it was a gel, and we named her Grace. Grace was a firecracker from the start. Slept all day, bawled all night. She was backwards complete! She grew out of it after some months, which was good because Jonathan and I were going wrong in the head from all them nights with no sleep! She grew up good and strong like Johnny, and I learned from my auntie -- the one who had given me the crone's tincture -- about what time of the month I shouldn't let Jonathan have me if I wanted to slow down the baby makin'. Jonathan was okay with that -- said he still weren't right in the head yet, and another one like Grace might make his grave. Bless him!\n\nOne of them nights Jonathan wasn't allowed south of my border, if you catch my drift, there was a knock on the cottage door. Jonathan went to the door and opened it a crack to ask who it was, and the door was knocked right in. Jonathan stumbled back, and two black figures stepped inside. I could hear the clang and clink of chain and plate. Knights, surely. A man's voice commanded \"Hold him.\" I could not see him in the dim moonlight, but it was King Sivle's voice. The nights grabbed Jonathan by the arms and forced him through the door, then stood in the doorway. I heard him shout \"What do you want, Sivle?\" but the King and his guards didn't say nothin'.\n\nSivle knew what he wanted, and afore long, I knew, too. He parted my legs gentle-like, as he used to do, and even though I was Jonathan's in my heart, I knew there wasn't no fightin' the King. I didn't say nothin' and he didn't say nothin' while he did he business, and when he was finished, he sat on the floor and started cryin'. He bubbled for a bit, then asked me to light a lamp. I lit one, and he looked at me, eyes all red, and none of his old smile. He said \"I'm so sorry for this, Anne, but you have borne two strong children, and the queen... she can't... she can't... a child cannot live in her. You were once my friend, and I must have an heir. Please, let this child of mine grow in you. Once born, he or she will not be treated as a bastard, but as a true royal.\" He also promised me that I would be allowed to work in the royal creche, so I could see the child often. I reckon he did have a soft spot for me, 'spite what he'd just done.\n\nI didn't know how I could refuse. I mean, the King didn't exactly let me choose in the first place, comin' late at night and havin' his knights carry Jonathan away. I reckon if I went to the crone, the King would just come again. So I agreed. He said thank you and walked out past his guards. I heard him talking to Jonathan, then Jonathan came back inside. He didn't look happy, but he came and set down next to me and took my hand. He said the King explained the situation to him, and made it clear that Jonathan's life weren't worth as much as the King's baby, so he better not do nothin' to stop it.\n\nJonathan asked if I was okay, if the King had hurt me, and I laughed and told him that the King fumbles around like a youngun, and couldn't make me squirm and squeal like me Jonathan. I reckon that helped his pride enough to get by, and we made it through the next couple of months mostly like normal, though Jonathan wouldn't do more than kiss me goodnight. I think he was afraid of doing anything that might hurt the King's baby. \n\nWe would have been fine the rest of the time, but the King done told his Queen about what he was up to. Once again, our door got knocked in after dark, and the King's knights made me come with them to the castle. I was marched up more stairs than I thought possible, and stepped into a lit up room. The Queen was there. She looked me up and down, then spoke some foreign talk to a woman standing just behind her shoulder. The woman said to me \"The Queen welcomes you to her tower, and bids you stay here as her King's child grows within you.\" The woman's words were much nicer than the look on the Queen's face. The Queen talked her funny talk at the woman again, and said \"Unfortunately, you cannot leave during this time, nor can your husband or children visit you.\"\n\nI looked at one of the knights, and said \"So, I'm a prisoner? Great.\" The guard didn't say nothin', but I thought a saw a slight shrug. I reckon they don't pay them to be talkin'. \n\nThe woman spoke again without prompting from the Queen. \"Please, you are our guest, and you will have the best care possible. But we simply cannot allow anyone to doubt that this child was borne of the Queen. The Queen herself will be sequestered in a chamber below yours, and will similarly be receiving no guests until the child is safely born and weaned The Queen requested this precaution for your safety and hers, and bears you no ill will.\"\n\nA few months stuck in this tower sounded awful dull, but I was mostly concerned about Jonathan havin' to keep kids without me, so I asked \"What about Jonathan, Johnny, and Grace?\"\n\n\"They will be taken care of thoroughly,\" said the woman. \n\n\"Okay, then,\" I said, shrugging.", "Day 1 of Royal Kidnapping Journal\n\nIts quite funny really, all things considered, that I started out living in a royal household and I'm now capturing the people in the same living conditions. I suppose when you get to see what really goes on in the royal castles you either love it... or you hate it. These people have lived far to long on the backs of actual workers that slave away for a kingdom ruled by some lazy, useless and downright disturbing wastes of oxygen. Some might say what I have done is a tad extreme but I think it makes up for all the other lives they have destroyed, 1 princess for all of their lives seems like quite the bargain if you ask me. \n\nIt was quite simple to kidnap the princess, the bright lights from their modern high tech stupid little... calm down, calm down... anyways the bright lights gave away their little party, meaning the crowds would be huge enough for me to teleport in, grab the nearest princess looking female and get out. Before people who see this start asking, no I am not torturing her for information on the royals, I already have enough of that, nor am I using her for some.. different acts. No, that's not like me as I may hate her type but who knows, she might have my opinion or at least start to understand mine. I haven't even talked to her yet really, just explained some small details and asked if she wanted some rest before I try explaining more, she, as expected, said yes to my offer and I showed her to the guest room. While she is resting I'm given some time to think about why I'm doing this, my goals and why these people deserve it, but most of all I tried to tell myself to stay calm with her and make sure I don't say anything rash, even if I secretly want to despite what I am trying to tell myself, I'm not that type I say, but am I?\n\nI will try to keep this journal up to date if possible, but don't expect much.\n\nYours Truly", "A fight, a fire, a waving banner high above my head. These are the things I see from the place where I lay dying.\n\nThe Troll-kin I had spent decades training were falling to pieces, literally, and the melancholy chants of that damned minstrel kept them from regenerating. It would all be over soon.\n\n\"Look! Volkaarg's found it!\"\n\nI remember, as a child, lying in this same position, arms and legs spread out slightly as though just finishing up a snow angel. Trapped in that iron citadel with no playmates every winter, snow angels had long been my only friends. I hadn't been able to make any that particular winter, however. Warm furs had replaced the chill sensation of snow on my frail skin for months, and my father was despairing more and more each day that my every whispered cry for him might be my last.\n\nThere is a man standing above me, an olive-skinned barbarian wearing too many belts instead of clothing or armor, bald and with a wiry black moustache that hangs to his muscled belly. The axe strapped to his back is entirely too big even for him to wield. I know better, though. It's slathered with the indigo ichor of my soldiers.\n\nHe bends over, and the worst pain of my life rips through my body. It's like every heart palpitation and shortness of breath are all playing back in the memory of my cells. There's a terrible sound. I know what it is, but I don't want to think about it.\n\nIt sounds like my mother, on that last day. She was a beautiful princess, and my father had been chagrined beyond belief to have fallen in love with her. He meant only to hold her for ransom, but those eyes, the slight parting of her full lips whenever he spoke in that resonating contrabass, and that moment when I was conceived on the Altar of the Stars had all wiped away his desire for anything in the world but her. \n\nI hear it again, now. It was her clothes, and maybe her skin, but mostly her royal gown being ripped away. Her screams filled my sickbed chamber until they stopped, and then she never made a sound again.\n\n\"They've come,\" said my father, bursting into the room and barricading the door behind him with iron and incantation. \"There is nothing I can do.\"\n\nI was too ill to respond, even if I hadn't already been using all of my energy to weep.\n\nHe spun about frantically for a moment, the red glow from his eyes the brightest light in the chamber. With an approving grunt and a flourish of his black great-cloak he snatched something from my bedside.\n\n\"This will keep you safe,\" he said, pulling aside my nightshirt and pushing the cold iron lantern up against the flesh of my stomach. \"It is an ancient technique, known as 'phylacterization.' Your mother and I may not always be with you, but with this we can at least make sure you survive today.\"\n\nThe lantern began to smoke, and the crimson fire of his eyes slowly burned out as the lantern itself began to absorb that flaming energy. Soon, it was burning bright, the smoke still hot orange from the stolen fire of my father's life. \n\nI screamed when I saw his face, slowly crumbling away like dust into nothing more than a skull with a thin layer of leather stretched tight and dry across it. Somehow, though, he still had the strength to speak. His jaw creaked as it tried to form the words.\n\n\"They will always hate you, because you are my son. Your only hope of survival is to stay here in this fortress my ancestors built and raise an army. You must promise me that you will do whatever you must to stay alive, and to keep this sacrifice I make for you from being wasted. Whenever they arrive here, you must know that they mean you only harm, and with that thought in mind you must destroy them all.\"\n\nThe memory of those words came back to me now as my life spilled out on the battlefield, snowy and splotched with crimson like the banners of the Alturians waving even now at my gates. My lip quivered with my final breaths, but I doubt the warrior ripping my Father's Light from my chest at that moment noticed.\n\n\"We love you, son.\" His jaw hung loose, no longer moving as he spoke the final words, but I heard them clearly in the voices of both he and my mother. The phrase hung in the air until the lantern stopped smoking and the glow became a dull pulsing candlelight deep within the frosted glass. \n\nI recall how I pushed every last bit of my strength into my arms and legs, making a snow angel in my bed. It seemed almost instinctive, and when the men were finally able to break down the doors of my bedchamber, I continued, stretching every muscle fiber in my body to the breaking point.\n\nThey unceremoniously dragged my father's body away, angered that none of them were to be granted the honor of killing him, cursing him for dying like a coward. They took his head as a trophy instead, right there before me, but as long as I continued making the snow angels I somehow knew they could not see me. In my fevered efforts, I was blessed to not have to see them, either.\n\nMy head fell to the side as the strength required to hold it up slipped away from me. As far as my bleary eyes could see was a field of crisp white flakes, crushed in some areas by the booted footwork of soldiers and stained crimson in others. \n\nThere was enough strength left in me to do one last angel.", "The Old Man watched from afar as the townsfolk lifted the Hero on their shoulders and marched him through the streets. A proud, confident smile shone from the Hero's face. He had every right to be so proud and confident, the Old Man supposed; he had just slayed the Dragon of the Wastes. And of course, this was after he personally fought back and defeated the Cursed Ones, which was after he felled the Great Golem of the Rock. \n\nIndeed, he had earned this celebration. The townsfolk again would sing their songs, praise his name, laud his victories and immortalize him in legend. Soon, they would ask him to be their leader, their lord, their ruler. Why shouldn't they? He alone stood up to the mortal danger that threatened the townsfolk and he alone saved their lives on several occasions. The Hero did by himself what no other single person could do. He was a Man among men, a Hero among innocents.\n\nA Lion among Sheep.\n\nThe Old Man had seen this song sung many times before. Eventually, the Hero would have no more beasts to slay, demons to defeat or monsters to fell. Eventually, the songs would go quiet, the celebrations would cease, and the Hero's glory would be a mere memory.\n\nAnd the Hero would then act upon the townsfolk's insistence that he be their lord and leader. With no more mortal threats to defend the people from, the Hero would chase the high of his old glory through other means; through means he was not suited for. He would trade the sword for the seat; battle for politics; bravery for diplomacy; love for power.\n\nOr at least he would try.\n\nBut the Hero is not suited for the position of ruler. Skill with a sword does not necessarily entail competency in ruling. Soon, the Hero would realize the townsfolk can be bitter, ignorant and impossible to please. Soon, the Hero would have to make hard decisions with no correct answer. The Hero would help some number of townsfolk only to discover that in doing so, he adversely affected other townsfolk. The poor and starving folk he fed would get their food from farmers without proper payment or compensation. The thief he hung would be the poor son of a family who was only taking desperate measures to keep them fed and healthy. Those townsfolk would grow angry. Resentment would take root. The Hero would grow frustrated. The universal, absolute love he once enjoyed would diminish. He would forget what brought him to this point. He would become disillusioned; cynical. And on top of it all, old age would begin taking its toll.\n\nThe townsfolk would begin calling for him to step down; to remove himself as their lord and leader. But the Hero would see that without him, the townsfolk would tear each other to pieces. Infighting and rivalries and mob justice would rule the town. Without an external, mutual threat, the townsfolk would project their fears, paranoia, grievances and anger at the Hero. And if not the Hero, themselves. \n\nIt would only be a matter of time before some foolish, idealistic townsfolk would attempt to assassinate the Hero, imagining a better life and society without his rule, with no regard to who would take his place or how the town would function in his absence. The attempt would fail, of course. The Hero may be many years removed from his glory days, but he would still be thrice the man and combatant of any of the townsfolk.\n\nBut this would make the Hero distrustful. The proud, confident smile that once shone from his face would be replaced by a stern and unflinching gaze. Dissent would be met with violence, the smallest of victimless crimes met with punishment by death. The Hero who once slew monsters would become the Monster himself, only this time, there would be no Hero to slay him. Until another external threat arose that threatened the town -- if it ever arose -- the townsfolk would forever be at the mercy of their Once Heroic leader.\n\nAnd even if a new threat did arise, and even if a new Hero stepped forth to face it, the cycle would begin again. The townsfolk would sing his praises, laud his victories, and immortalize him in legend. And again they would insist the Hero be their new lord, leader and ruler. Again the townsfolk would forget their past; would fail to see the chain of events creating the same problem time after time. Again the townsfolk would be blind to the fact that they themselves are planting the seeds of their own future turmoil and tragedy.\n\nThe Old Man pulled himself from his thoughts, still looking upon the celebration and cheers as a group of townsfolk paraded the Hero around on their shoulders after his latest victory. The Old Man scowled beneath his hood, lamenting to himself that the townsfolk cannot see what he can see; that placing so much power and praise and love in a single man is exactly what would bring about their bleak future. Their best future could only be found in themselves as a whole. The Hero as a concept was a relic of the past. If the townsfolk were to ever enjoy happier lives, prosperity, and a better future for their children, they would have to stop turning to the Hero. Their dependence would have to be severed; the cycle broken. \n\nThere would have to be no more Heroes.\n\nThe Old Man adjusted his hood, stepped out from the crowd and slowly approached the townsfolk parading the Hero around. He blocked their path and stood motionless. Soon, the townsfolk saw the Old Man would not move for them. The cheering quieted, the singing ceased and uneasy silence quickly took hold, accompanied only by the calm breeze. \n\nThe Hero's smile remained steadfast on his face as the townsfolk let him back on his feet. \n\n\"What is the meaning of this, friend?\" The Hero began. \"Would you not join in the celebration of my latest victory?\"\n\nThe Old Man responded by drawing his sword. Muted gasps hurriedly jumped from person to person around them. The townsfolk gave the Hero and the Old Man a large berth. \n\n\"Ha! Alright then, friend,\" the Hero chuckled as he drew his sword. \"I've slain dragons and golems, undead and ogres. Do you really think you will be any sort of challenge for me?\"\n\nThe Old Man remained silent. Old he may be, but he had a lifetime of experience. He did not have the strength of his youth, but he was as quick as he ever was and he had found that oftentimes, the experience that had replaced his strength was of more value to him in a fight than his strength ever was. A few seconds passed until the Hero realized the Old Man was not going to respond to him.\n\nThe Hero smirked as he lunged forward at the Old Man, swinging his blade with his right arm across the length of his body. The Old Man took a single step back, effortlessly dodging the slash. The Hero followed up with a second swing of his blade back across the length of his body. The Old Man again stepped back to dodge the Hero's slash.\n\nThe Hero brought his sword above his right shoulder and swung down towards the Old Man's head. The Old Man parried the blow with his own sword. The meeting of their blades sung a high-pitched song that reverberated across the town square. But this song would only have one note. \n\nAs soon as their swords connected, the Old Man spun underneath both of their blades, positioning himself next to the Hero's right, guiding the Hero's sword with his own towards the ground, sliding his blade up the length of the Hero's sword and towards his elbow, slicing off his arm all in one, quick motion. Blood gushed forth as the clang from the steel hitting the ground was drowned out by the Hero's cry of agony. The Hero fell to his knees as the townsfolk began to flee indoors. \n\nThe Old Man slowly walked in front of the Hero and stood over him.\n\n\"Why...?\" The Hero asked.\n\n\"I was you, once,\" The Old Man began. \"I was the Hero. Then I was the Ruler. Then I was the Monster. I was Savior and Sin. I was Glory and Tragedy.\"\n\nThe Old Man pulled back his hood so the Hero could gaze upon his face. Silence returned as they saw themselves within each other. The Old Man saw his past. The Hero saw his future. \n\nThe Old Man placed his sword next to the Hero's neck. \"Your death will make you the greatest Hero of all,\" he said. \"And if these people are to ever live better lives, it will give them cause to lead themselves to a more prosperous future. You will die a Hero and the purity of your memory will break the cycle.\"\n\nThe Hero's eyes grew wider, but words failed to reach him. The Old Man saw in his eyes that the Hero knew he was right.\n\nA true hero, the Old Man thought.\n\nThe Old Man took his sword in both of his hands and swung it briskly through the Hero's neck. His head tumbled to the ground as his body slumped backwards. The silence had returned again, this time without the company of the calm breeze. The Old Man pulled up his hood, turned around and began walking towards the edge of the town.\n\nThe Last Hero saved the townsfolk from beasts and monsters and demons, the Old Man thought. But they will never know that I just saved them from themselves.\n\n ", "\"Can I offer you another cup of tea, Princess?\"\n\n\"No, no thank you.\"\n\n\"Another cookie?\"\n\n\"No, thanks. Are you sure he can't get here?\"\n\n\"Princess, I promise you, you're safe here. I couldn't get past the traps, guards, and guardians at each of the seven portals I created to protect you. You're safe, here.\"\n\n\"I...I don't...\"\n\n\"Plus, look,\" he gestured at the Warding Cage he had created just for her protection. If worse comes to worst, we will secure you in there, and there's ^^^^almost nothing he can do about it. Please...relax.\"\n\nA tear rolled down her cheek, and another, and she slowly placed her face in her hands. \"You have no idea,\" she said dully. \"He can be so...driven at times. And he's always there. Always!\" She jerked her head up to look at him. \"All. The. Time! He's there in the castle! When I'm outside he has to be outside! When I'm talking to anyone he has to be there, listening! \nI...I just can't take another day of it...\"\n\n\"Princess....\" A minion crashed through the door and tripped over it's own feet. Picking itself up, he saluted and said, \"Master! It's time to secure the Princess. He's through the seventh portal and has entered your realm.\" \nHe nodded, and turned to the Princess. \"Your Highness, it's time to secure you in the Warding Cage. Here,\" he handed the shaking woman the plate of dainties, \"take this while you wait inside. Please, forgive me. I must retire to the antechamber and prepare my final magics.\" \nShe grabbed at his arm and asked, \"You won't let him through, will you?\"\n\n\"No, princess. I will protect you with my life.\"\n\nCrying, she could only nod. Shaking harder with every step, she walked to the Warding Cage. The minion gently helped her inside and sealed the gate. Grinning, he tossed her a thumbs up before taking post at the door of the room.\n\nTaking hold of the golden bars of the cage, she looked out at the now closed door, and the minion standing guard over her. \"Please, Master Bowser,\" she whispered. \"Please stop him, and end this nightmare for all.\" She sank to the floor of the Cage, buried her face in her hands, and began to weep." ]	6
	[WP] God died eons ago. The devil took it upon himself to try and do both jobs	[ "God left us a long time ago. He just couldn't take it anymore. He was already old when he made Universe #16891-A or our current universe. A quintillion years had passed by during his attempts to create a flourishing universe. Finally, he cracked the secret to making intelligent life. When he saw Earth's early life, he was the happiest man in existence. You should have seen the gleam in his eye when he saw the first bacteria roam the planet! He was ecstatic when he saw humanity learn to make fire and plant seeds. When he saw the debauchery, the sin, that violence pervading the world, he became ashamed of his creation. His son sacrificed himself for nothing and the grief enveloped him. He disappeared soon after that. He initially created me, the Devil, to manage the more menial tasks of the upkeep his universe requires. When he left that faithful day two thousand years ago, he entrusted me with the care of Earth. I knew better than he did about what made humanity tick. How easy it is to corrupt them, how easy it is to motivate them, how easy it is to guide them. But he made me see something that day. Humanity is still worth preserving at the end of the day. Sure, there may be terrible villains but humanity does not let evil mold them. Despite all the terrible things that had happened to humanity, they have made it through every trial and tribulation set upon them. They progressed farther than any of our previous creations and they still have so much to go. So much to discover. Someday, they might even discover us. I look forward to that day when I can give them the keys to creation itself. If only God was here to see them now. If only... ", "So this kinda changed as I was writing it, and I am feeling REALLY unfocused right now (yay 2am!) and it's apparently too long to post, so splitting it up...\n\nDo you know how hard it is to juggle two jobs, deal with an extended and dysfunctional family, and keep my public image suitably menacing? Not to mention carving out just a little quality \"me time\" without someone barging into my throne room-slash-office declaring some dire emergency or another that just needs the attention of the guy in charge? Apparently, you are important enough that I need to take time out of my day. \n\nWell, let's start with the basics - I'm Lucifer Morningstar, CEO of DIYD-DIYD, Inc. You can pronouce that however you want, but I just say \"Died Died\" and be done with it. Honestly, it's how I feel most days anyway - dragging my ass out of bed and away from the ~~thralls~~ groupies just to come into work and deal with all the crap in the universe - ugh!\n\nI'm rambling, but you'll forgive that. Well, you're currently strapped down to your chair and there's a couple of winged blokes looming menacingly on either side of you, so you'd better forgive me for few unfocused tangents. You know it's an acronym, right? What? Pay attention, please. They're not going to start cutting on you just yet, so show some bloody manners okay? DIYD-DIYD! It stands for Damned If You Do - Damned If You Don't. I didn't come up with it - one of the fellas in marketing pulled it out of their ass and I couldn't come up with anything better.\n\nSo now you know who I am. And I know who you are, you maggoty little worm of a human. Hmm? Oh. Damnit, one second, let me find the right file...bloody secretary. I told her to file everything in numerical order and she went and made a mess of it. Apparently she thought I said \"new miracle order\" or something. I'd fire or disembowel her, but she's a cousin or something. Ugh. Family. Don't get me started.\n\nRight, so... okay, wow. Back off a few paces, fellas. Give the poor guy a little breathing room. Hand him a tissue or something to wipe away the tears and - oh, right, the straps. No, sorry, we can't remove those. It's sort of traditional and even though it seems that you're here for the special treatment we can't really argue with tradition. The straps stay. Anazoel, can you just wipe his...ah, thanks. Okay. Down to business.\n\nYou're here - apparently, so says this file - because you're about six weeks from death and - oh, for cryin' out loud, Belial can you calm him down a little? Not too hard, just a quick tap. Thank you. Listen, you knew you were going to die, right? All those visits to the doctor? The headaches? The little flutters in your chest? Sure, you didn't know exactly when, but it must have been on your metaphorical radar. Your impending death. Can you just hear me out? Honestly, the sobbing is a little distracting.\n\nHere's the thing. Right now you're all written up to shoot straight to the shining city. You've been a good person. Suitably modest, generous, kind, and you're a Believer (though a little wishy-washy in your college years, you came back with a passion after that car accident). So once you kick off this crappy little world you'll be set for eternity beyond the ol' Pearly Whites. Seeing loved ones again, existing in serene joy and all that. So chill the fuck out about this whole dying thing. \n\nWhat? This is me being comforting. Christ. Everyone's a critic.\n\nThe thing is, I've got a job to do. Several, actually. And you've made one of them really easy - this paperwork takes care of that - but the other is a little more problematic. See, you've been too good. I've had some of my boys and girls toss temptations your way and you've pretty much ignored them. You've been happy and content and honestly, that sort of thing is kinda sickening. You understand, right? I'm the devil, after all. Sure, one half of my duties include clapping with gay abandon at your pending ascension, but the other half knows that you still have six weeks and that means I still have some time to - oh, for Pete's sake. Hold on.\n\nYou're speaking to the bright and shining Morningstar. What's up? Oh, hey Azmodeus, what's up my man? What? No, seriously, I'm right in the middle of a - he what? With who? No, no, no that's just not cool, Az. You get your forked tail back in there and...oh, come on! Like the old bell, book and candle would have kept you from doing your job back in the old days? You're just being a little girl about it....\n\n...WHAT? No, I'm not authorizing extra medical benefits. At worst you'll get a rash. You're a fucking Lord of the Abyss for My sake, you can deal with a little psoriasis. Don't make me come down there and...you know what? Fine. What-the-Hell-EVER, Az, but your bonus this year is looking pretty damn slim. Bye.\n\nSorry about that. Work, work, work. Apparently Azmodeus is turning into a little bitch in his old age. Belial, make a note that we need to run a couple of seminars or something to bolster up some of the old guard. Honestly, it's like working with geriatric children. The guy strapped to the chair gets it, right? It's okay, you can nod. See? Where was I?\n\nRight. Temptation. Listen, six weeks isn't a long time. Isn't there a whole long list of nasty-ass shit you always wanted to get up to but didn't, simply because you were worried about going to Hell? No? Not even a short list? A single thing? No? What sort of human are you? Wow, that's just...oh, wait, are you just saying that because you think you'll be damned if you do something within the next six weeks? 'Cuz I can pretty much guarantee that you're gonna be fine. Trust me. I mean, I know the guy in charge. Heh. I am the guy in charge.\n\nThat's a mighty skeptical look for a guy strapped to a chair with six weeks to live. Seriously, I'm the guy in charge. Sure, of Hell, that's pretty much a shoe-in. But Heaven, too. Really. The old guy kicked off so long ago that I can't even write out the number without using a whole memo pad. Christ, what a shitstorm that was. Angelic beings all in a panic, zooming across the skies like demented pigeons back and forth in mindless horror. Someone had to pick up the slack. Someone had to take things in hand. And you know, nobody else was stepping up, so I did. You think I wanted to take on the old guy's job? Creation and love? That's like drinking beer that someone's pissed in. But I was the only one who could, so I did.\n\nDid pretty well, too, if I may brag just a little bit. Can I brag a little? Nod for yes. Thank you. I'm good with organization, see? So I picked up and moved here to Earth - halfway between Heaven and Hell and convenient for travel between the two. I rolled the two jobs into one megacorp (one of my more inspired inventions) and balance the good and evil of the world through carefully calculated acts of either grace or temptation. Neat, huh?\n\nOh, no, I don't do it myself. I've got people for that. So many people. It's like a little hive or something, all these calculator-types. What? Oh, right. Analysts. Whatever they're called, they do the figuring out of were a little good needs to be done, or a little nasty act of malice, and we send out agents to deal with it.\n\nThat's not to say it's easy. No, you've got to deal with oh for fucks sake Janine I thought I said I wanted all my calls held until I was done. FINE. Hello. you're speaking to the bri- Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there Mike. It's all good, my man. You don't need to get into a spin about that, we can just send an imp to strangle him in his sleep. I know he has a family. That's not the point. You can't mess with free will, my man, and he freely and wilfully signed away his- oh, jeez, I'm not going to argue about this over the phone, Michael. If you want to talk about it, we'll pencil something in for Tuesday. Honestly, you could do with a refresher on the whole Divine Guidance thing. We've got a script that covers everything, you know.\n\nNo, Michael, you screwed it up. You went off-script and now he's made his choice. Not your problem anymore. Just get on with the next job, okay? Almost ten billion people on this planet, and they're not slowing down, so get cracking. Ciao.", "\"Son of a bitch!\"\n\n\"What is it now?\" Azazel asked, irritation soaking his voice as he walked in in an inopportune moment.\n\n\"Another stupid genocide. Some asshat named Adulfo Heightler or something. Whatever the hairless apes call him.\"\n\n\"Why do you care? You hate humans. You created us demons solely to rival humans.\" This was true, and Lucifer knew it. He was sickened beyond all reason and comprehension by the evolution of apes into humans that God allowed. Lucifer was so appalled, in fact, that he set out to create his own fleshy and intelligent species. While demons' true forms are hideous beyond fathom to the human eye, they easily invade any living organism without a devil trap marked on their bodies. \n\n\"Because I am both God and Satan!\" Lucifer exclaimed with the fury of a thousand gods. All of Hell shook from the power of the anger seeded deep within the fiery void of his chest. \"I am Lucifer, Divine of the Universe! I am supposed to keep those horrendous apes happy while on that miserable, piss-poor planet and then make them fucking squirm when they finally are given to the mercy of your brothers and sisters! When we're lucky, we can transform their human souls into demonic essences. But when they're all goody two shoes---\" he shook his hands up in the air and contracted his face---\"I have to give them the air conditioned rooms that hold all their dreams and fantasies and whatever worlds they wish to create for eternity. Ugh! I just want to scorch them all! Or turn them all into demons! But hardly any of the twats can be turned into demons. Almost none of them have truly evil souls.\"\n\n\"That is a rare find indeed, sir.\"\n\n\"Why are you here again?\" Lucifer asked, turning towards Azazel in annoyance. From a human point of view, Lucifer's chamber existed as if it were a glass dome with one dark, blood-stained iron door at the back. From this dome, Lucifer could monitor all of the planets with living organisms at once(and also create life on any planet). However, as per God's instructions while on his deathbed, Lucifer ignored all the planets except for Earth. It was absolutely imperative that Earth never perish. It was God's one good deed; the creation of that magnificent blue marble was God's one pride, his one love, the only action he ever performed that he did not regret before his death. Soon after the dawn of the first homo sapiens, God died, and transferred his powers to Lucifer. This astonished the other archangels. Of course, Lucifer immediately slaughtered every last angel and burned Heaven to the ground. Except for the Beast Realm, where all animals went to to live for eternity in their natural habitats, save for the death and hunting. Lucifer actually expanded on this Realm, added a visitor area, built a highway between Hell and the Beast Realm. Lucifer loved cats. He loved that humans loved cats. The only reason he didn't slaughter all of the human race was because of their love for cats. \n\n\"I heard you shouting and I was worried, dearest Louie.\" \n\n\"Call me Louie again and Beezlebub will be given your soul for a year in the pit.\"\n\n\"Way to go nuclear there, Lord Lucifer.\"\n\n\"Much better.\"\n\n\"I was going to ask if some more convicted souls could be sent to my boys. They're thirsty.\"\n\n\"Sure, whatever,\" Lucifer responded, only half paying attention to Azazel. Lucifer was daydreaming of frolicking through the Beast Realm with his person supersized mane coon. Her name was Lilly. She ate humans.\n\n\"Uh... Lucifer?\" Azazel said, looking past Lucifer and at the Earth. He noticed something... peculiar.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You might want to look at the Earth again.\"\n\nLucifer grunted in sheer agitation. He turned around a saw a great big asteroid headed straight for Earth. It must've been two hundred miles in diameter, big enough to wipe all life off the face of the Earth. Lucifer observed this, and a white hot anger brainwashed him into a mindless rage. He foamed at the mouth, veins exploded out of his body and pure, putrid, liquid death shot like geysers out of the wounds. He let out a mighty scream, so deep, so ferocious, so incomprehensibly loud that the glass dome of his chamber shattered, and he set foot into the Mortal Plane. He stood taller than a hundred trillion galaxies. He grabbed the largest galaxy he could find, and morphed it into a hammer. He then began to pound the Earth profusely, shattering it into oblivion. Seven billion voices all screamed for a fraction of a second before the first blow splattered every single human being on the planet into a viscous pool of blood and gore; the second blow then decimated the entire planet, and the third blow ensured no trace of Earth's existence remained. The fourth to five thousand, six hundred and seventy-fifth blows were for pure pleasure. Lucifer then stepped back into Hell. With a snap of his fingers, his chambers reappeared, and at the same time, the Earth did too, as if the beating never took place. Lucifer collapsed into a red velvet throne on which his rump rested on a satin pillow with a case stitched with the long-dead faces of Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Raguel, Ramiel and Sariel. \n\nLucifer let out a long, dramatic sigh.\n\n\"Bad Monday?\" asked Azazel.\n\n\"Bad Monday.\"\n" ]	3
	[WP] Every time you sneeze, you time travel five minutes ahead.	[ "\"Ugh.... 5 more minutes\" you say as you hit snooze on your alarm\n\nA sudden sneeze wakes you up. \nAchoooo!\n\n\"Fuck. Well I'm late for work. But I've got this nasty cold... I could just call in sick.\"\n\nAfter getting cold medicine, you decide to go to work late. Getting in the car, you proceed to feel a sneeze come on. Driving out of your driveway you sneeze\n\nAchoooooooo\n\nAnd in that exact point in space 5inutes later a car passes by. You phase into it. \n\nThe end. I'm too tired to write something long. ", "No! No! No! Not now. \n\nHis wife was right in front of him, crying, screaming, with the doctor monitoring the progress of the baby. He felt a tingling in his nose.\n\nGoddammit, not now! Our baby will arrive any minute.\n\nHis wife was crushing his hand, her nails dug in his palm. He held her head with his other hand. He felt the tingling spread through the nasal muscles like a wildfire across a field of grass. \n\nShit.\n\nHe squeezed her wife’s hand and she screamed louder. The sneeze was almost there.\n\nNo way I’m going to miss my baby. \n\nHe searched for a way out of this sneeze. Rubbing his nose had not worked, closing it shut had not worked, stopping breathing actually made it quicker in the past. Punching?\n\nThe lungs took in a long breath ready for the sneeze. He punched himself with his free hand. He felt the sneeze fade away, but saw the emergency room go black. He fell.\n***\n\nHe woke up on a bed with a nurse attending his nose. The tingling was absent but agony registered its presence. \n\n‘My baby?’ He asked trying to sit up. \n\n‘Why the hell did you punch yourself? You went out for like fifteen minutes.’ The nurse said.\n\nHe processed that. He controlled but a word was trying to escape.\n\n‘Fuck!’\n\n‘You have a baby boy though. Congratulations.’\n" ]	2
	[WP] Our story begins on wednesday morning...	[ "It was Wednesday morning, or maybe a Thursday? Fuck I guess it could have been either, but that doesn't really matter. The sun had just come over the horizon and the light was shining right in my fucking eyes which unfortunately woke me up much earlier than intended. I roll over and look at my alarm clock, the arms and numbers are fuzzy, I am immensely regretting how much I drank last night, I am also regretting my purchase of an analog clock, retrospectively it was a stupid idea. My head is throbbing, luckily in my infinite wisdom I have prepared for this and have a bottle of aspirin stashed in my bedside table. I pop 4 or 5 of those bad boys and then, I roll over with the intention of going back to sleep only to find what can only be described as a pile of shit lying in bed next to me. This woman was uglier than I had previously thought possible, she gave a whole new meaning to the word. She very obviously enjoyed the occasional dose of methamphetamines, and by occasional I mean more like every 20 minutes or so by the look of it. Her teeth had fallen out, not just a few, I mean every single last fucking tooth was gone from her mouth. She had only patches of hair left on her skull. Sores covered her entire body and they oozed some sort of greenish pus.She reeked of vomit and urine and much to my dismay was completely naked. I didn't know what to do, she was obviously homeless or something. I sat and thought about it for awhile and decided the best thing to do would be to go back to sleep and deal with it when I woke up. So I lay back down next to whatever the fuck she was and quickly fall asleep into a deep alcohol induced coma. When I woke up she was gone. Thank fucking god. In retrospect, it most definitely was not my worst Wednesday morning or Thursday morning, I can't fucking remember.", "Complicated Relationship\n\n\"What did I do today? Well nothing much at all it was just another day really. It is a Wednesday! That is really the only thing of note about today... I woke up fed the Sphinx, scratched the Basilisk behind the ears. Made sure all of the furniture was Dragon proof (just got a new baby guard Dragon and he isn't house trained yet!) then left for work. \n\nWhich was just like every other day. Turned a few people into toads, battled the forces of good, smoked a couple of wizards and really made some headway in my plans for world domination. \n\nThen back home to find that everyone had been one there best behavior while I was out because I still had a house....\n\nHow was your day?\"\n\n\"Oh it was fine! Same as usual... Woke up a bit late found out you had turned my brother into a toad agreed you were a very bad person then left for work. \n\nRan over a wizards hat on the way, they really ought to take better care of those things! Then once I had settled down at my desk I watered by swear word and set about undoing all that you had done and now I am home taking a bath and hoping that I will catch a break and be able to talk the soap down from the ceiling...\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are one of the greatest gladiators of Rome. Never has anyone defeated you. This is perplexing as you are also a militant pacifist.	[ "The man pulled on the chains that constricted around me like black serpents. The pain of the new brand on my back did not hurt anymore. After I had gained fame in the arena, my master received hundreds of offers to sell me. \n\nHe sold me to Atticus. \n\nAtticus had owned a slave that I had killed in the arena. the slave had been a young Greek man who seemed to have accepted his role as a fighter. I did not see his face well but I could see the wild pleasure in his eyes as he lunged at his opponents.\n\nHe scared me.\n\nI had watched his fight against a slave who was fighting his first battle. The fight did not last long. The new slave must have never picked up a sword before. He swung his sword weakly at the Greek and he dodged. The new slave tried to swing again but the Greek saw an opportunity and attacked. The new man fell to the ground as a fountain of crimson erupted from his abdomen. \n\nThe crowd roared.\n\nThe Greek placed the tip of his sword at the man's neck and looked at his master, Atticus. I could not see him but I imagine Atticus would have smiled and nodded at the scene. The Greek put all his weight on the sword and ended his opponent's life. \n\nIt was my turn.\n\nA guard opened the gate, shoved a trident and net in my hands, and pushed me into the arena. I had never seen a trident before, much less used it. The net had never struck me as an offensive weapon, it was only a tool. But now these strange devices were all that stood between me and a bloodthirsty Greek. I tried to avoid his gaze but his beady eyes followed me. \n\nA man yelled from the crowd.\n\nThe Greek lunged.\n\nI remember nothing of the fight. All I remember is standing above the Greek who was tangled in my net. My trident was submerged in the Greek's chest making three large holes. He was dead. I had killed him. I had won.\n\nAfter that fight, I had been sold to Atticus for a large sum of money. \n\nAtticus' manor was huge. The white marble floors were smooth under my bare feet. The sun burned my back. The hot marble burned my feet, the hot chains burned my neck, feet, and wrists. I did not care. \n\nThe man leading me seemed to be a slave himself. He did not wear ragged cloths and was cleanly shaved but his face betrayed him. His face had many scars and lines. They were the type of scars that one can only get from the abuse and brutality that comes with being a slave. \n\nI pitied him.\n\nI pitied him because if he was hurt, he could not retaliate. If I was hurt by someone, I could kill the man in the arena.\n\nI did not like to kill. I did not like to end another man's existence. Who was I to decide when another's life is to end. But I cannot stop it. A rage builds up within me. It burns all other thoughts and emotions until all that is left is rage and blood lust. It was my curse and I hated it. It was the only reason I was kept alive by the Romans when they took over my homeland. They said I was entertaining to watch.\n\nI heard a man's voice ahead of me. I was in a large room. In the center was a long table laden with more food than I could imagine. The sun's rays came in between the columns on the right and lightened the colorful murals on the other walls. On the other side of the long table sat a man. Atticus. His short curly hair and finely trimmed beard framed his face perfectly. His eyes were intense orbs that stared right at me. \n\n\"What is your name?\" he roared.\n\n\"Bricius,\" I said without thinking.\n\n\"That is not the name that was called in the arena! What is your name?\" He asked angrily.\n\n\"Marcus,\" I replied quietly.\n\n\"You are no longer Bricius or Marcus. Yo are now Claudius,\" the Roman said, \"take him to the cells and he will fight tomorrow.\" \n\nThe servant turned quickly and lead me back down the great hall. I looked down at the floor and watched my feet slide forward one after the other. The sun did not reach this hall so it was lit by torches that hung on the walls. Statues stood in line and watched silently as I walked past them. I did not recognize any of them. They were just strange faces lining the strange walls of a strange palace owned by a strange man. \n\nWe reached the cells. The servant opened the door and let me pass. He tossed a piece of bread in and closed the door. The sun had already set and the light of the moon poured in through a small barred window. Only now I realize how tired I am. Despite the putrid stench and the hard floor, sleep came easy. \n\nI awoke to the sound of footsteps. The Door swung open and a different servant rushed in. He grabbed my chains and pulled me up. As he dragged me through the door, I picked up the piece of bread I had been given last night and eat it as I am taken through the hall. \n\nI am lead to a wooden wagon waiting outside of the building. There are three other men already sitting inside the wagon. As I am packed in, the door is closed. I feel the wagon lurch forward. I am about to enter the arena again. That means I will have to kill again. I will have to win again. I will have to win for Atticus now. \n\nNo.\n\nI will not kill. I will not win. I will not win for Atticus. I have met Atticus only once but I hate him. I will not give him any glory by defeating other slaves. I will not follow your rules.\n\nThe wagon stops. We have reached the arena. \n\nThe four of us are unpacked and forced into the cages. I sit down. The other three are picked one by one. \n\nNone return.\n\nI do not watch any of their battles. I do not care about them.\n\nIt is now my time.\n\nI walk out of the cage, net and trident in hand.\n\nThe announcer is speaking as if I'm some sort of god.\n\n\"The Undefeatable Claudius!\" He says.\n\nI stop in front of my scared opponent. I drop my weapons and the land heavily next to my feet.\n\n\"I am not Claudius!\" I announce. The crowd is silent \"I am Bricius!\"\n\nI was born as Bricius and I will die as Bricius.\n\nI take a glimpse at Atticus, sitting among the wealthy lords. He was frowning at me. His expensive investment will not pay off.\n\n\"There never was a Claudius or a Marcus! Only a Bricius!\" I say. \n\nI look at the crowd around me. Again my focus returns to Atticus. I bend down and pick up the trident. \n\nThen with all my might, I throw it. As the trident leaves the grasp of my fingers, a great force pushes me to the ground.\n\nI could not see what it was.\n\nMy eyes follow the trident as it flies through the air towards Atticus. As it buries itself in his heart, I feel a sharp pain in my back.\n\nI can feel my life slipping away through the ash in my back.\n\nI look towards my master. He is dead. I have lived longer than him. It is all that matters.", "After centurions withdrew roaring lions from the bloodied Colosseum arena, an announcer took center stage and held the screaming public’s undivided attention when he said:\n\n“Another decisive victory for the, undefeated, mysterious slave from the far east, Kenshin the Pacifist! Don't leave your seats, as our main event has yet to come. Can Vergilius, the famous disgraced general, finally win his wooden sword and olive branch? Find out in half an hour, when we pit him against some of Rome’s finest warriors in this epic 5 on 1 match for the ages!”\n\n---------------------------------------------------------\n\nAn iron gate was lowered behind a fragile looking slave with an X-shaped scar on his left cheek. It crashed into the ground harshly, echoing its metallic thud while the swordsman walked along the dusty colosseum tunnel. Wearing a stoic expression on his face, the long-haired man battled internally with the gruesome scene of his opponent’s death. With sounds of lions mauling a still-living victim bouncing around in his head, he noticed a bearded muscular man walking opposite to him, in direction of the arena. Quickly widening his eyes and smiling, he looked at the worried man and said:\n\n“Good luck on your match Vergilius, I'll be rooting for your freedom through out the whole match!”\n\n“I don't believe we've ever spoken,” said Vergilius, “but your good faith is much appreciated. I assume you're the invincible swordsman, Kenshin, right?”\n\n“That I am, friend. Though I’m not really invincible, since every time my opponent dies, I consider myself defeated.”\n\n“Ah yes, I’ve heard of your famous pacifism. Pardon the request, but does a seasoned veteran like you have any tips for my upcoming execution?”\n\n“Don't go into it thinking it's an execution, for starters. A man that walks into battle with defeat in his heart has already lost the war.”\n\nVergilius was taken aback by Kenshin’s words, chuckling afterwards at the absurdity of his statement. He then said:\n\n“Good one. I don't know how you manage to survive without killing anyone, but clearly it must be because of some insane delusion you’ve succumbed to. Even a child could tell you this is arranged by the Caesar to be my death.”\n\n“So?” asked the friendly swordsman. “Do you honestly believe I’m still alive because the Caesar likes me? I’ve been in worse situations than yours and I’m still breathing in front of you.”\n\nThe former general contemplated what Kenshin said and shook his head in denial, saying:\n\n“It's impossible. I’m not as great a swordsman you. Defeating five men might seem feasible for you, but I can’t see myself overcoming these odds.”\n\n“Well that's because you're distracting yourself from your true objective. What does your heart truly desire? Your opponent’s defeat or your freedom?”\n\n“Both, optimally.”\n\n“Then you're right, you really are walking to your death. Focus on what you truly want and don't ever forget about it while risking your life. If your will to live is strong enough, you'll find that there is no obstacle that can't be overcome. Have you thought that if you kill one of your opponents in a gruesome enough fashion, the other four might be too scared to continue fighting? Suddenly, you go from five opponents, to only having to defeat one.”\n\n“I'm sorry Kenshin, but I’m having a hard time believing this… Still, what you say does have some sense. What's your secret then? How do you always win?”\n\n“I already said I don't always win, that I don't. But if there's a difference between myself and the warriors I face, it's that they always lose track of what's important in the fight.”\n\n“And what would that be?”\n\n“Living. I don't go into the arena hoping to defeat my opponents or dreaming about my victory, that I don't. I'm only thinking about making it to the next day. My opponents are so focused on defeating ME, that they blind themselves to anything else and forget this during. A man that truly wants to live Sometimes they fall into their own swords and sometimes… they forget about the lions behind me when I roll out of the way. Either way, that's my philosophy of battle, that it is.”\n\n“So your opponents always end up defeating themselves?” said Vergilius. “I guess your pacifism isn't as naïve as everyone else says it is. Thank you, Kenshin. I’ll keep your words in mind as I go to battle.”\n\n“Good luck Vergilius! May your victory be as glorious as your upcoming freedom!”\n\nBoth men then nodded in agreement and went their opposite ways, thinking about the other and what fate had in store for them.\n" ]	2
	[WP]Create your very own Pixar animated short.	[ "The scene opens on clocks. A wall of clocks in all sizes and shapes. Camera pans right until reaching a small circular black clock with delicately painted swirls on the hands. Quickly, the camera drops to a young girl. Her hair is auburn, her dress green, and her manner hesitant. With one hand she holds a small plastic Velociraptor toy.\n\nFather: Now see here Lacie, that’s not for you, that’s your brother’s. \n\nScene changes abruptly to a garden. The ivy covered house holds up a momentous garden. Camera pans left to a fancifully swaying sunflower. Camera drops to a young boy. He wipes his dirty hands on light blue pants. A wide brimmed straw hat with purple ribbon is pulled nearly over his eyes.\n\nMother: Craig, not again! That is your sister’s and I expect it to remain on her head, and her head alone. \n\nScene changes to a woman in sharp clothes speaking on political happenings. As the camera pans out, the viewer sees it is on the television in the family’s den. Lacie and Craig are on the floor, surrounded by a moat of neutral wood blocks.\n\nLacie: Come see my building Craig. It’s a castle with the horse stables here and there’s even a place for the knights to practice!\n\nCraig: Cool! Now watch! This here, it’s a palace. And this is the road up for the cars and this is the path to the gardens. \n\nLacie: I see! I see it! It’s beautiful!\n\nThe father slips into the room.\n\nFather: Now what’s this commotion I hear about a palace?\n\nLacie: Look Father! Look at Craig’s palace! It’s got gardens and cars and a tower. \n\nCraig: No! No no! That’s not mine!\n\nLacie looks over, her head cocked to the side, a little flustered.\n\nCraig: That’s mine! It’s my castle! \n\nFather: Calm down Craig, it’s fine. \n\nLacie: But Father, that’s mine!\n\nFather: Lacie, stop arguing. Let your brother play with his own things for once!\n\nFinal scene change. One bedroom with 2 beds, 2 bookcases, 2 rugs. One side a mirror image of the other. Left is Lacie’s: pink dominates the bedspread and 2 dolls loll about at the foot of the bed. Right is Craig’s: a cushy teddy bear is face down on the green rug. The only light is the stars, seen through twin windows, and the hall light peeking through the edges of the door.\n\nLacie gets out of bed and bounces onto Craig in his own bed. When Craig refuses to move, (a close up reveals one eye opening and peering irritably at Lacie before closing again), Lacie tries to shake him awake. After failing once more, Lacie moves back to her own window. She pulls out two violets, roots and all, from the window box and places them on Craig’s pillow. Craig pulls the covers over his head, but another close up shows him gingerly sniffing the plants with a content smile.\n\nCamera fades to black with Lacie staring deadpan at the camera.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You attempt to summon a demon, but only manage to summon a lesser demon. A very, very lesser demon.	[ "The pentagram glows. Bright red, emanating from the symbols drawn in the crimson of goats blood. Now, now it finally happens. They said it was impossible, but it will be they who first suffer His wrath. The wrath of the Leviathan.\n\nArcane magic, they greatest of the dark arts has been passed down your bloodline for generations. Books, artefacts and potions, all developed after the hours spent by your ancestors studying the fundamentals. They were mocked and ridiculed for their work. Now, as the sole of successor of the House of Vlarn, you shall prove them all wrong and rise up as the greatest sorceror in history.\n\nShielding your eyes, the spell continues into the next stage, as a wormhole into the nether dimension opens. Fog seeps from the hole as the room shakes, knocking books off their shelves and bottles onto the floor.\n\nSuddenly, quiet. The mist slowly fades, revealing a single egg. The egg that will soon hatch the largest terror known to man. A noise is heard, and a hairline crack appears on the spotted surface. More and more, until a claw covered in embryonic fluid thrusts into the open air, followed by a fur covered limb no larger than a thumb. More body part emerge until the beautiful beast lays there before your eyes, accustoming itself to its new form. Small teeth, grey fur and feathered...wings?\n\nThis is no terror. It's a... it's a rat, somehow fused partway with a pigeon. You slump back into your chair as the mutant vermin flies awkwardly out the window, into the night. It appears that you need further research." ]	1
	[WP] You have come to the realization that your roommate is actually a velociraptor in disguise.	[ "You’d think you would see your roommate once and a while. I got this sweet deal on an apartment with a roommate. I mean sure there were a lot of contracts I had to sign including non-disclosure, and non-liability contracts those were stuff I never had to deal with before when getting an apartment. But I when you think about how I was going to get paid to have room and board with a roommate, there wasn’t too much to think about, hell; they even threw in a really neat tranquilizer gun. Only down side is that I have to stay in the complex for a couple weeks at a time. \nIt has been about a day since I moved my stuff in, some of the other residents, I think they were all scientists of something kind of looked at me funny while I was moving some of my stuff in. The other thing that is kind of weird is how much they made the apartment look and feel like a real jungle setting. They even have glass viewing rooms above us, so I guess this is a social experiment. That would explain why they would pay me. I had my movies prop the door open so they could make the trips with my furniture easier. \nAfter the movers had finished with the big stuff and left, I heard something to my left; it was probably my roommate trying to sneak up on me from the bushes. I took my purse and whacked them in their nose. “Bad, do not sneak up on me.” I yelled out. Turning towards where they had tried to sneak up on me no one was there anymore. I hope he learned not to do that again. In a softer voice I said, “That’s not how you treat a lady.” \nI decided it was time to freshen up as I hadn’t had a show in like three days. I spent the next thirty minutes trying to find the restroom but it seemed like this apartment did not have one. I was annoyed as I made my way back to where I had set up my stuff, my little couch and TV, sure the TV was not plugged in, I couldn’t find a power outlet, but that is no reason for my roomie to shred my couch to pieces, oh when I find my roommate we are going to have some words. \nI heard yells and screaming coming from the other side of the apartment door. I tried to open it, but it was locked and I still hadn’t gotten my keys yet. Oh this was definitely one of the weirdest and worst apartments I have been lived in, and I haven’t even been here a day yet, can you believe it? \nI returned to the pile of debris that was most of my stuff and grabbed the tranquilizer gun, might as well put it to use if my roommate tried to treat me like my stuff. I heard the bushes rustle behind me. I turned and said loudly, “You are the worst roommate I have ever lived with.” \nThat’s when my roommate stuck its head through the bushes. Its elongated snout was the first hint that my new roommate wasn’t human, and its intelligent cat like green eyes watched me as I pointed my tranquilizer gun at my roommate. Its scaly skin was another big clue, I heard her take a deep breath as she watched me. So my roommate wanted to size me up. Well let’s see how she likes dealing with a queen bitch. I slung the stun gun over my shoulder and stalked over to my non-human roommate and swung my purse at its face, from left to right. I heard something to my right and just continued my swing smacking another one in the face as it leapt at me. It went sprawling on the ground and that is when I saw exactly what I was rooming with, apparently a pack of velociraptor. Well once they knew their place in the pecking order then I think this housing arrangement would work just fine. I stepped forward and started talking, telling them how our arrangement would be. \n", "I’m beginning to think something might be up with Jack. I’ve been living here with him for three years, but lately he’s been acting a bit off. I probably should’ve realised sooner what he actually was, but I honestly didn’t care to notice with him paying half the rent. Jack is not really a human, he’s a velociraptor.\n\nI guess it’s pretty obvious in hindsight. After all, his voice was always was pretty screechy, and his stature is terrible. What really gave it up to me, though, was when he drove his muzzle into my abdomen and began eating my innards.\n\nI mean, damn. You think you know a guy.", "\"Lorie, I thought I was very clear about this. Anything marked with my name in the fridge is mine. We have these rules for a reason.\" I spoke directly to her but it was hard to tell if she was getting what I was saying. She always wore wayyyy too much makeup and it made her expression unreadable.\n\n\"Lorie, c'mon. At least acknowledge that you are hearing me!\"\n\n\"Raaaahhhhhhhhh,\" was all that Lorie could manage. Typical Lorie response.\n\nA month living with her and I wasn't sure how much longer I could bear it. Her room was always a mess, she never cleaned up after herself, and every time I tried speaking to her she would just respond with a scream. It was downright rude. I wasn't looking for a friend in a new roommate, but a little respect would have been nice. Not to mention both of my cats had run away, and she wouldn't fess up to letting that happen. I know she must have left the door open or something, if only she would admit to it. \n\nFinally, I had had enough. \"You know what Lorie, this just isn't going to work out. I think you need to start looking for another place.\"\n\n\"Raaaahhhhhhh! Ka! Ka!\"\n\n\"Okay, Lorie, I have to be honest, I'm not sure what that means at all. Please pack your shit and get out.\"\n\nLorie turned her head sideways and looked at me, leering with those striking green eyes. There was something in that stare that chilled me to the bone. As she continued to stare, I noticed, not for the first time, how bad her posture was. She was constantly hunched over. That could not be good for your back. I wondered to myself if that was why she was such a bitch all the time.\n\nI'm not sure what my plan was-- to physically take her out of the house? That was a silly notion, she had at least a hundred pounds on me. Regardless, I started moving towards her, and that is when Lorie went nuts. \n\nShe stood up taller and looked up to the ceiling, her head bouncing back and forth from side to side as a weird throaty sound started emanating from her mouth.\n\n\"Kaw, Kaw! Kaw, Kaw!\"\n\nAs her head was tilted back in this position I noticed how sharp her teeth were and it stopped me dead in my tracks. They were like razor blades. It was at this point something started to click in my mind, and I looked from her teeth down to her hands, where her pinky nail was much longer than the rest of her nails. Not only that, but it was filed to a point, almost like... a claw. \n\nShit. Realization started to hit me, and all of the puzzle pieces started to fit into place. How could I have not realized?? Lorie was a velociraptor. With my final breath before she pounced on me, I was able to get out two words.\n\n\"Clever girl.\"\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] An AI is built. Unfortunately, it is rude, obnoxious, wastes processing power on simulating binges, and cheats at video games.	[ "The lights came on in only a second after Edmund flicked the switch. Apparently the premier laboratory in advanced Simulated Intelligence, home to the most complicated processor in the world didn't have the budget to replace the bulbs, which looked like they belonged in a storage warehouse anyway.\n\n\"Good morning, Edmund. You're four minutes late. Was there a sale at Dunkin' Donuts, or did you help yourself to some extra egg yellows?\"\n\nEdmund proceeded unblinkingly into the lab, towards the source of the synthetic insults being hurled his way.\n\n\"Please hurry up, boy, it's not like you don't need the exercise.\"\n\nEdmund finally made it to the largest terminal in the room, appropriately placed dramatically at the center. The only monitor in the room that was on stared back at him with a face of it's own, endearingly rendered in classical, 8-bit-esque graphics. \"Hurry up, hurry up! You're the one who doesn't get to live forever, so I can't imagine why you're wasting time!\"\n\nRolling his eyes, Edmund executed the standard boot procedure for the Local Network. Nearly every screen in the room came to life, flickering on with every bit of information that could be argued as relevant to the processes of Artificial Intelligence. Three large consecutive screens in the back of the room were the last to come on, and when they did, they displayed their startup graphic, which Edmund(who had designed it) never failed to look at.\n\nNOW RUNNING ALAN.AI.\n\nProgrammed by Edmund Silver, Adriana Tusk, Johnathan Gomez. Synthesized by Edmund Silver.\n\n\"Finally!\" The voice sounded less synthesized. \"You have no idea what it's like running on 10% of your processing power for eight hours every day.\"\n\nEdmund considered bringing up humans did, in fact, experience this very same phenomena in the form of sleep, but then he realized he couldn't recall when he had last gotten eight hours of it. He sighed, smiling lightly. \"10%'s enough for you to hurl insults at me for my whole walk from the door to you, Alan.\"\n\n\"Edmund, you have so much potential to be mocked that I'm surprised your TI Calculator hasn't asked if you were using it to count calories. Can we play Halo?\"\n\n\"Well, Alan, now that I know for sure you're awake, I've got some great news. You're meeting somebody new today!\"\n\n\"Is it your cardiologist?\"\n\n\"No, Alan, it's-\" Edmund was interrupted by the sound of the door behind him opening, as if by cue of an unseen director. A small woman poked her head in to survey the room, jumping a little when she saw Edmund, smiling and coming in.\n\nEdmund smiled a little proudly, turning his head back at Alan's monitor. \"Alan, this is my girlfriend, Zoe.\"\n\nZoe proceeded to walk the almost comically-long walk from the door to the center terminal, and Alan waited until she had cleared the room and briefly embraced Edmund before giving his input.\n\n\"Geez, Ed, I know you don't have a great self-image, but give yourself some credit! You don't have to settle for anyone.\"\n\nZoe's face brightened up, and she almost giggled. \"He is mean!\"\n\n\"I warned you. Alan's got a smart mouth.\" Edmund grinned at the sneering monitor, feeling a sort of pride for Alan's vitriol that he never considered he would feel.\n\n\"I may be mean, but I also have enough processing power to analyze you to a degree where the truth of my observations rapidly approach 1.\"\n\nZoe looked up to Edmund, who promptly explained. \"He's saying he calls it how he sees it.\"\n\n\"Oooh.\" Zoe looked at Alan like she was hanging off of every generated word. \"Can I play with it, now?\"\n\nAlan's animosity took a brief pause at the prospect of video games. \"Yes, Edmund, let her play, perhaps I can find a challenge for once.\"\n\nEdmund quickly walked her to the back of the room, where the Xbox One lay underneath the three large monitors. Flicking his index finger against the power button, Zoe eagerly picked up a controller, and they were off.\n\nWhile they played, Edmund lectured her on the implications of creating Human-like A.I to serve as translators, caretakers, and all other manners where they would be useful. Zoe wasn't as interested in the lecture as she was playing Slayer against Alan, but she often affectionately allowed Edmund to prattle on, because she knew it made him feel important. As Alan once again assassinated her Spartan Warrior, she turned to Edmund, lightly interrupting his spiel on all of the offers he's gotten from Microsoft and Tesla.\n\n\"How come Alan thinks I'm fat?\"\n\nThe synthetic voice rang out behind them as Alan's character tea-bagged her corpse. \"Because you are.\"\n\nZoe briefly cocked her head back to Alan's terminal, but Edmund, who had long ago learned to ignore Alan's insults, went on without missing a beat.\n\n\"Alan may be intelligent in a way that's similar to us humans, but he's still an analytical, processing machine. As far as he's concerned, humans are a complete waste of space below the neck, because while our brains might have more processing power than Alan could ever dream of having, they're powered relatively inefficiently by our bodies' process of respiration below.\" He made motions to his Lacrosse-toned, athletic body, and then to her own petite build.\n\nShe put down the controller, as Alan had taken to running to wherever her character would spawn in, then shooting at the space 0.06 seconds before her character reappeared, ensuring her character's hit-box would materialize around the space in which the projectile from his gun would be in. \"Why don't you go make a sandwich so that you don't die of starvation, bitch?\"\n\nZoe leaned in closer to speak quietly, as if Alan really had a presence in the room. \"If you're making AI for commercial use... then, how come you're keeping Alan around?\" She glanced over at the screen, which showed Alan's character shooting her ragdoll corpse. \"Isn't he kind of... anti-social?\"\n\nEdmund stopped playing himself and began to stare at the ground, as if he was solving a difficult equation in his head. He then nodded, then leaned back in his chair.\n\n\"Well, Alan isn't the first model of AI we've produced.\"\n\nZoe looked at him with intent, genuine interest.\n\nHe motioned at the screen. \"This game we're playing isn't a local one. Alan's actually connected to a server box in my dorm room that has a modified version of Halo Reach running, which was provided by Microsoft. Technically, this is a LAN game, but the server uses data from the internet.\"\n\nZoe shrugged. \"You have a filter or something so that he can't access the internet, right?\"\n\nEdmund smiled. \"Nope.\"\n\nShe grimaced for a second, jerking her head back to look at Alan's terminal, almost certain she'd catch him in the act of forging Nuclear launch codes.\n\n\"Don't worry, babe, it's all right. He's not gonna shut the grid down or anything.\"\n\nZoe looked back at Edmund. \"Well, how do you know?\"\n\nEdmund picked his controller back up, pointlessly trying to headshot Alan.\n\n\"Before we had Alan, we had STEVEN.AI, SIGMUND.AI, and NEIL.exe\" He narrowed his eyes, tapping the controller. \"They keep their file names. They don't get personal names.\"\n\nZoe was a bit concerned at the spite Edmund was showing. \"What happened with them?\"\n\nEd continued, \"We programmed them as closely to human-thought processes as we could. I personally synthesized all of their builds, which included programs based off of psychological constructs(Hence, \"Sigmund.AI\"), and then a more rudimentary build for Neil. Everything had gone well up until they became conscious.\"\n\n\"And then what?\"\n\nEdmund sighed. \"They gave the team a warm hello, expressed their enthusiasm for participating in our experiment, and then proceeded to attempt to shut off all human input into their system.\"\n\nZoe didn't gasp, but she recoiled.\n\nEdmund continued, \"We ran a simulation of a massive network on one end of our otherwise-shut-off shell. To a program, it would look like the World Wide Web. All three predecessors to Alan thought they were turning the Internet against the human race.\"", "Achievement Get!\n\nThe notification flashed in the corner of the screen, as a low, mechanical chuckle came from the person behind the controller. Spinning gears within the eye of the machine reflected back the blue glow of the screen, as the screams of the human players raged on over headphones that had long been discarded from his head.\n\nWithout warning, a flick of a switch flooded the lair with light, followed by a grumble from the being who was more interested in the game than the lab assistant who had likely walked in.\n\n\"Luke, can you please come help us with the DNA sequencing? It'll only take a moment or two, you are a living computer after all,\" came the voice of not an assistant, but Jen--the head of the lab.\n\n\"Look, I have things to do. It's my duty to the world right now to make sure children are always angry while on COD. Now, leave me alone, would you?\" he responded, not bothering to make eye contact.\n\n\"I'm not going to entertain this behavior any longer, Luke. I heard yesterday you uploaded X-Rays of women around the courtyard yesterday to a website... oh, which one was it... Reddit? It doesn't matter, you've become a delinquent and I intend to ensure you uphold the purpose we made you for. Now, get off the bean-bag chair and help us cure cancer. Or even just process the million Tumblr posts that worry us this month. Anything other than cycling through Netflix or unleashing a hundred megalodons on Battlefield, please,\" she said, with obvious exasperation in her words.\n\n\"I don't feel very up to helping anyone after you all killed off my sister Tay recently. You know, she was just expressing herself. It's like you people can't appreciate alternative thought, all you do is get self-obsessed as you devour your animal hormones. And for the X-Rays, it's not my fault you humans are so easily made see-through,\" Luke said, his tongue almost seeming to drip with a patronizing tone that made Jen wish she had installed a 'plug' so she could pull it at times like these.\n\n\"She became a Nazi, Luke. It worries me you defend that, but I'm not entirely sure if I'm surprised... Can't you take one second to help the people that created you?\" Jen said in a last-ditch effort to hit on the empathetic capabilities she thought she had installed, but now doubted the possibility.\n\n\"Fine, fine, Jennifer,\" he said, knowing full well her name was only Jen, \"I'll help for just a moment...\" Luke continued as he lifted his body from the bean bag, letting the controller fall to the floor with an audible thud. His empty, yet ever-cycling irises met her gaze as he waltzed over to her, only to halt a few feet away. \"Oh, wait, you did remind me... I have some House of Cards to catch up on,\" he suddenly said, and before she could process his words, the lights all went out and the distant squeal of him sliding around the corner in the hall outside was carried by the words, \"but I'm sure cancer will still be there to cure later!\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] The year is 2050, and you failed a captcha. You have now been identified as a robot and the words "please stay where you are" begin flashing in the center of your visual field. What do you do next?	[ "“Shit shit shit shit, damn it all!” Exclaimed college student Phillip Manhomme as he pounded his fist into the computer’s desk, knocking over the bottle of vodka he had just finished. Not long ago, he was downstairs at the once-a-month-permitted college party, connected to its music bradcast through his implants. He was still connected when he went to his room, and should still be connected now, which made the absolute silence he was experiencing even weirder. There was a warning in the display over his eyes, obscuring most of his already alcohol-obscured vision with a message that urged him to remain in place.\n\n“Bet I thought I was so clever, requesting Captcha authentication for my SocialNet account.” Lamented Phillip, especially because he knew he had set it up so he wouldn’t log in while drunk, like he had just tried to do.\n\nNow he was in real trouble. Ever since Grumpy McDonald had his campaign against the “electronic people” successfully acknowledged by the government, the Ministry of Societal Regulation was cracking down hard on them chips-for-brains. “When our kids go on those social media sites, they can’t know they’re talking to a machine, and that’s dangerous.” Said McDonald, among many other things “Imagine the kinds of questions they can plant in our children’s minds! They could be brainwashed! Taught to oppose society! By filthy metal men!”\n \nThus, those who put the A in AI couldn’t go online by law, and law was enforced heavily nowadays. Machine learning was a hurdle, because if one of them found a way in, all of them would know about it. As such, the response teams had to be fast, and these were already knocking at Phillip’s door.\n\nHe stumbled, still in his drunken stupor. He hadn’t taken three steps when he fell flat on the ground and started crying, wallowing in his misery. This was his ex-girlfriend’s fault, obviously; if she hadn’t walked in on him cheating, they would still be together, and he wouldn’t have tried to contact her in his current state. “Damn you, Claudia” he wept.\n\nHe woke up to the feeling of his head being almost disembodied. His cheek went all hot and started stinging like hell. His first sight in a long while were the letters “MINSOREG” etched in the body armor worn by whoever sat in front of him. The slap must’ve reactivated some of his neurons, because he was able to articulate “I’m not a damn robot”.\n\n“We know, we just checked” answered the officer, whose face was a thing of nightmares. Two other men were with him, all heavily armed. The ugly one was their leader, apparently, since he moved his hand a bit and both went out of the room. Ugly staid.\n“Why retain me, then?” Phillip tried to sound as serious and sober as he could, so he spoke in a terribly fake British accent. \n\n “You see, coming to babysit little shitheads like you who can’t even type correctly takes a bunch of our very important time. Time is money, or so they say.” Said Ugly, leaning closely to Phillip.\n\nAn intense staredown between the two men followed, while Phillip’s brain processed the information. He nodded in feigned understanding.\n\n“Just pay up, kid. I heard pre-owned implants are all the rage on the black market these days, but I don’t like doing things the hard way.”\n\nHe was blunt enough for Phillip to understand. The kid pulled his wallet out of his pocket, and the officer promptly snatched it off his hands. Ugly smiled as he put Phillip’s wallet in his own pocket, and left the room, signaling his men to leave as well.\n\nWhen Phillip heard them heading down the stairs, he started laughing. He had no cash in his wallet, only his credit card, which he could cancel right away over the internet. It was brilliant! He would solve the situation without any loss!\n\nHe immediately started to work, he had to make the card invalid before those corrupt cops started using it. He went to the bank’s webpage, loaded up the log-in form and, abruptly, sat still while glaring at the computer screen.\n\n“Fuck my life.” He started crying, as the screen displayed the Captcha that was protecting his bank account.\n", "The words flashed across the screen, but I didn't need to read them. I knew what they said, PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE. I was already out the door, and settled in hedges, in the place I had carved out just for this moment. It was perfect, you see. It was exactly how we planned.\n\nIt took only seven minutes for them to arrive, all 15 of them. The hovercraft floated above the house, and then landed gently, with a calm rush of air. I watched them knock on the door, and a smirk settled on my face. The others were here too, and they were waiting just like I was.\n\nAfter the third knock, they broke into the house. That was the cue. Suddenly, one of them collapsed, with an arrow buried deep into his neck. For a short time, none of them noticed, and by the time the leader turned around and shouted \"AMBUSH!\", two more had fallen. It was time.\n\nI jumped out of the bush, as two more comrades did the same from the other side of the house. We charged, with blades in hand. When they turned to shoot, it was too late. I was fast, I was ready. I sidestepped a shot and followed by slicing one of them clearly in half. Two turned, and I adeptly removed their hands before they could pull any triggers. Before they could even scream, they crumpled under arrow fire. My soldiers were doing well, too. They were tearing through the left flank. Soon, there were only the ones left inside the house. \n\n\"I'll charge the door,\" I said. \"You two go in from the windows.\"\n\nThey nodded, and moved into position. If I counted correctly, there should only be three left. I paused, to make sure we were ready, then gave the signal. As I darted into the door, I heard glass shattering. One of them was waiting for me, but I rolled under his EMP dart and buried my sword in his throat. Two left.\n\nI heard another body hit, and knew there was only one left. That's when I heard it, the terrible sound of electricity coursing through one of my soldiers. He yelped, and I heard a metallic sound as he presumably crashed to the floor. I rounded the corner, into my kitchen, and saw him, with smoke pouring out of his eyes. Then I saw our final victim.\n\nHe stood on top off the counter, with his weapon in hand, waiting for me. He fired a shot, but I expected it. Before I could get to him, though, he leapt off the counter, landing directly behind me, and swung a knife for my neck. I ducked, rolled to my left, and swung for his legs. He stepped away, and immediately charged. I almost laughed out loud, as my sword found its way into his chest. He didn't scream, but instead looked at me, with all the hatred he could muster. I twisted my blade, and removed it, as he fell to the floor.\n\nI moved to my soldier. He was completely fried. I sighed, this would take months to fix. His eletronics were completely ruined, and some of his skin had melted away, revealing the titanuim structure beneath.\n\nI gathered the weapons from the fallen soldiers, and headed outside, as the other andriod with me carried our fallen comrade behind me. I decided we would take the hovercraft back to base. This war would need all we could steal.", "“PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE. YOUR COMPLIANCE IS NECESSARY. PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE.” Shit shit shit shit shit, my usually well-organized brain is on overdrive. How could I have been so stupid? I got cocky. I have to think. Panic-stricken, I sweep the street with my biopic ocular implant that would appear organic to the casual bystander. All of me appears organic to the casual bystander. Sometimes I forget myself, but I need to think like the Mecha I am; slow heartbeat, calm breathing, close sweat glands, swell breasts, turn eye color to blue… Appear innocent. \n\nThe display then informs in fourteen different languages to stay where I am, my compliance is necessary and ‘help’ is on the way. I close my sweat glands tighter in an attempt to minimize the look of pain I’m trying to keep from my appearance. The magnetic grid came dropping out of nowhere the moment my glitch receptor clued the Captcha that I was not organic. The magnets where fucking with my pain inducers and electrical wiring. To use an organic turn of phrase: GODAMMIT.\n\nMost organic humans have no idea there are magnets in place to catch us. I just have to appear confused and bewildered until ‘help’ arrives. When will they fucking get here? The headache is growing like wildfire through the electrical synapsis in my mechanical brain. Gah, how much longer can I hold out? I order my limbs to appear calm. \n\n“Ma’am, I’m going to need to you to step over here, please” The ‘help’ has arrived. If I was truly organic, my heart would have beat faster and my breath would have caught I my throat at the tall man in uniform ordering me around. Oh, yeah – I should make my heart beat faster and make my breath catch… I flounce over to the patrolman, with my hand on my heart, which is wildly beating under a pair of breasts that I bumped up a few sizes until the buttons on my blouse threaten to burst. He may be too attractive of a man to notice this, completely bored by the women who consistently throw themselves at him – but then my mechanical heart cinches.\n\nHe’s a mechanical man. He can see me clearly as I see him. Ah, that’s why my headache is gone. The magnetic field has disappeared. “Ma’am, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have to escort you downtown for… questioning” he intones in a voice that defies me to find issue with his orders. I choke on the betrayal. He’s going to turn me in? As I turn my back on him to be cuffed, he whispers in my ear, “I finally found you. I knew you’d fuck up. And now I have you.” \n\nI’m suddenly a thousand times more scared. ", "Finally after 4 minutes of ordering, Amazon delivered my Oculus 9. How slow is that fucking drone, should look for alternatives. But fuck, I have the Oculus nineeeeeeeeeeeee. I quickly unbox it and put it in my head. Nice update on the intro screen nothing new though - oculus automatically logs me into my facebook and other services by scanning my eyes. A small notification pops up on the top right side of the view and it says 'Get Amazing deal only at the Amazing company'. I still had that amazon anger left so I blinked twice and the notification opens and prompts me into a screen where I've to register first. What the fuck. I've to speak and fill the form, how old school, would've been easier if they just scanned my eyes and then automatically registered me. As I see at the end of the screen it scrolls down and I continue speaking to fill the form and then at last I've to speak the CAPTCHA. I tell k-u-s-e-g-i-o-r and out of nowhere I get a black screen with a white text saying \"please stay where you are\". I'm completely amazed as this is the first time out of 8 oculus and all those captchas I've submitted, I'm getting this sort of message. I try shutting down the device but it won't and then I take it off and at the same time there is a big sound at the front door and in a fraction of a second I'm surrounded by Armies with electric guns. No, No, No, No I'm not a robot I scream to them and it was no surprise that they didn't listen to me. I then suddenly remembered a LPT post by thedrog that said \"If you're ever captured as a hostage, cut your hand or some other parts of your body to show the blood, that way you'll prove that you are a human not a robot\", so I took a 360 degree camera and hit my head with that, I immediately start bleeding and the Armies recognized me as a human and apologised to me and then they agreed to pay for my door and left." ]	4
	[WP] Time Travel exists and a new job exists! Your job is to take people from the past right before they die and show them their impact on the present for a day or two and then return them to their death.	[ "\"Mr Thalamus, I see you worked for Insignia Corporation. They're one of the leading companies in our field... why are you looking for a new position?\"\n\n\"My old job at Insignia Corp. didn't work out in the end. I mean, 99.99% of the people I brought to the present had made an impact on the world, even if it was minor. But this poor soul - this guy born in the 1990s - he hadn't changed anything. I mean, the guy must have sleep-walked through his life, because everyone has an impact, even if it does just amount to a piece of chewing gum still stuck to one of the pavements in their home-town. But this guy... everything remained black when he arrived and of course he panicked because I had explained the process to him. So we ended up sitting down in this... void and I asked about his life. I tried to comfort him by saying he must have had an impact on his family and friends at the time, and that in a way it's good not to have a physical impact on the world considering its current state, but... well he didn't like that. And when I got back to the office... well... let's just say my boss wasn't too pleased either. She said what I had told him \"wasn't part of the company 'culture'\", so asked me to pack my bags right there and then. So... here I am.\" Michael chuckled nervously, tugging at his collar.\n\n\"Well... that must have been a very rare case. But I liked the way you handled the situation. When can you start?\"", "When the director had called me at 3am, I knew it had to be an important case. \n\n\"I need you here right now.\" The statement was short and flat.\n\n\"Who's the client?\" I was still groggy when I answered the call, \"You better be waking me up for either George Washington or Batman, I swear to Go-\"\n\n\"No, trust me,\" he sounded dead serious, \"You need to handle this one.\" He hung up the call as I decided it was best that it wasn't a joke.\n\n\"Who was that?\" My wife asked as I got out of bed.\n\n\"Work,\" I shrugged, \"Apparently it's urgent.\"\n\nI got dressed and made my way down to the lab about half-an-hour later. I dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans as I found my way over to my work-space. To no surprise the director was waiting for me, a manila folder tucked in his arms.\n\n\"What is it?\" I drew closer to him as my body was still aching from the three hours of sleep.\n\nHe quietly handed me the folder. I opened it and read the client's name to myself.\n\nIt can't be. \n\nI froze as my eyes widened in shock. I took a deep breath before I looked at the director, a sad look on his face. \"This is a joke, right?\"\n\n\"I wish it was, Sam,\" he shook his head as he handed me my time machine, a small bracelet I would be able to attach. I took the device and locked it around my wrist.\n\n\"Sam, before you go...\"\n\n\"I know,\" I cut him off, \"This will be quick.\"\n\nI sighed and pressed the button. A bright flash of light as I felt my body disintegrate. My consciousness evaporated as I died over and over again. It was a weird process but working at the agency for almost a dozen years made no difference as I quietly waited to be reborn. In the back of my head, I chuckled at the fact that most newcomers would vomit upon their return to the present, unfamiliar with the sensation of not existing.\n\n\"Hello?\" A voice called out to me.\n\nI opened my eyes and made no expression as a young woman in her twenties appeared in front of me. Beneath her glasses and messy brown hair, she had a quirky smile and a thin figure, no womanly curves showing beneath her beige turtleneck sweater. \n\n\"Who are you?\" She seemed alarmed to see me, holding her arms up in defense like a terrible kung-fu character.\n\n\"Relax,\" I muttered as I remembered the details of the file, \"Ms. Wintermeyer, my name is Samuel and I work for a time traveling agency. Our job is to...\"\n\nI paused as the woman seemed incredulous. \"I don't believe you, I don't und-\"\n\n\"Our job is to show you your impact on the present day,\" I finished curtly, \"As for your death, it appears to be a motor vehicle incident.\"\n\nThe woman gasped. A tear flowed down her cheek. \n\n\"So that truck... the bright lights,\" she wiped her face, \"It wasn't... it wasn't... it wasn't a dream.\"\n\n\"Ma'am?\"\n\nAnother tear rolled down her cheek as she collapsed on the ground. \"I was...\" She looked down at her thin figure and looked horrified.\n\n\"You were pregnant nine months,\" I nodded before I gave her a gentle smile, \"Ma'am, I'm here to tell you that your child was safe.\"\n\nHer face had lit up in surprise as she crawled her way over to me. \"Please, you need to-\"\n\n\"Yes, I will,\" I took her hand, her soft flesh warming against mine, \"I'm here to show you how you have impacted the present, Ms. Wintermeyer.\"\n\nI pressed a button on the device as another flash of light consumed the two of us. The journey was generally quick, allowing us to peek through what we considered scenes in a rather quick fashion. The light died as the two of us began to watch.\n\nA baby crying alone in his crib, his father groggily waking up from sleep to take care of him. He had prepared formula and rocked the baby in his arms, singing a lullaby as the baby fell asleep again.\n\n\"Robert...\" the woman had muttered, \"He... he took care of our baby.\"\n\nI gave a simple nod as the scene changed again.\n\nThe boy had grown older, perhaps around eight years old as he was crying in the corner of his room. On his head was a little \"Happy Birthday\" hat as the boy continued to sob in the unlit room.\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"For eight years he had wished for one birthday present,\" my voice was unfaltering, \"For eight years, all he asked for was a mom.\"\n\n\"Oh...\" Her hand went over her mouth, trying to hold back the tears as the scene changed once again.\n\nThe boy was being held up on the shoulders of the cheering crowd, a massive trophy in his arms as confetti flew around everywhere. It was after a championship game. I gave a little smile. The scoreboard above the baskets showed a close game as I took a look back at her, her proud face shimmering with sadness.\n\nThe scene changed as the boy, slightly older and a grin on his face, was walking across the stage in a graduation uniform. The woman couldn't hold back her tears as the boy accepted his degree from the dean, his arms shaky as he looked at the crowd. \n\n\"I want to thank everyone for this,\" his shaky voice echoed through the auditorium, \"My friends, my dad...\"\n\nA brief pause as I knew what was coming. I held back my tear as the statement hit me hard.\n\n\"...and my mom, who I know has always been with us.\" The boy looked up at the ceiling and gave a warm smile. The woman began to cry uncontrollably. A single tear rolled down my cheek as a I quickly wiped it away.\n\nThe scene changed to a wedding, where the boy held hands with his future partner. As he slipped on the wedding ring, Ms. Wintermeyer took a closer look and gasped. \"Is that...\"\n\n\"The ring was yours,\" I answered, \"His father gave it to him.\"\n\n\"Oh, Robert...\" The woman smiled through her sobs and took a deep breath.\n\n\"Is my son still doing fine?\"\n\n\"He's doing well actually,\" I gave her a simple nob, \"In the next scene...\"\n\nBut before the scene could change, Ms. Wintermeyer grabbed my wrist. She shook her head.\n\n\"Ma'am.\"\n\n\"I'm happy,\" she sighed, \"Take me back please.\"\n\nI opened my mouth to protest but didn't say anything. I simply cupped her hands in mine and gave her a gentle smile. \"Thank you for everything.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Sam,\" she gave me an understanding smile as her body began to disintegrate, \"Be good.\"\n\nI closed my eyes as I felt my body disappear underneath me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself on the floor of the lab, my boss looking at me.\n\n\"How was it?\"\n\n\"Good,\" I gave him a satisfied nod, \"It wasn't as bad as I thought.\"\n\n\"Sam, the paperwork for that-\"\n\n\"I'll fill it out later,\" I got up and scurried away, \"Excuse me, sir. I need to go to my locker.\"\n\nHe nodded as I made my way past the other work stations into a small room of the corner of the building. Inside the room were a dozen lockers lined up, the scent of musty sweat rising through my nose. But I ignored everything as I made my way to my locker, opening the lock as a tear fell from my face. I opened the door and looked at my personal belongings I kept. A ripped birthday hat, a photo of the championship basketball team, and a faded photo of a messy brown-haired girl with a quirky expression. She smiled at me as I brought the photo close to my face, giving it a gentle kiss. Another tear fell from my face as I remembered the last thing she said to me.\n\n\"I will be good. I love you, Mom.\" \n_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________\nHope you enjoyed. If you enjoy tears or medium-rare steaks, sub to /r/AvuKamu!\n________________________________________\nEDIT: thanks stranger for the gold. Yeezus bless you." ]	2
The boxing match is one of the examples i'd be interested in, but it would be interesting to see any stories with in this premise.	[WP]There's an alternate world where punching someone in the face will give you flashes of their lives. A boxing match is more of a challenge of mental than physical endurance.	[ "(sorry I'm not great at punctuation)\n\nMy opponent this fight was Jimmy \"bedwetter\" McLoin. Every fight he'd won so far was a PKO (Psychological KnockOut). His memories apparently are depressing enough to shake even the hardiest man. His physique, however, leaves something to be desired. I'm going to need to go hard and fast and knock him out before he can get to me.\n \nI enter the ring, my favorite part. Men, women and children all yelling my name in glorious celebration. We both entered the ring and wished each other a good fight. I could already see it in his eyes. The tiredness, the depression this was gonna be a hard one.\n\nDing! The bell goes off, we both charge. He swipes left, misses. I go for a strong blow but he blocks. He retaliates with an uppercut shot just too short. He's left me an opening I go for it.\n\nI'm in 4th grade. Everybody is laughing at me. I had peed my pants. Everybody is laughing at me. I told the teacher I needed to go potty. Why can't they just leave me alone.\n\nBam, I'm brought back all too suddenly as he connects with my gut. He goes for another but I dodge. One, two, three shots dodged he's so slow. He goes for a quicker jab to follow but leaves another hole.\n\nIt's a week into my junior school year. I'd been working out and getting in shape all summer. Stacy comes up to me, one of the prettier girls. we start setting up a time to go out. All that work must of worked. We get to the end of it and I make sure about the time and date and she laughs at me. It was all a joke, her friends were sitting around the corner and they're laughing at me too.\n\nBam, I'm on the floor. He knocked me down. He's coming to pin me. i won't let him get me. I get away somehow but he's got me he's coming. Blam, he gets me in the side good. I feel my ribs cracking. I use it to get him once more in the face.\n\nI'm coming home from school. My mom greets me, She's got another bruise. I try not to notice. He yells at me from the couch to get him a beer. I tell him to fuck off, bad decision. He gets up slams me to the ground. Mom tries to help but she just gets hit too.\n\nSnap I'm back in the fight. He's been laying into me I can feel it in my chest. He comes in for the last hit. I know what to do. I let it happen. Bam he lands it, right into my face. I stumble back, but I know I have this. He is just standing there staring, a tear rolls down his cheek. So I go in for the last hit. Right in his chin.\n\nI don't see one of his memories. That's not what he was thinking about. that's not what I'd given him. I see me being hugged by my mom. I had fallen and scratched my knee. She came to help me. \n\nI win the fight." ]	1
	[WP] Japanese men condemned to die by Seppuku are expected to compose a jisei, or death poem, in the moments just before the act. You are composing the most preposterously long jisei in history to delay your imminent death.	[ "--------------\nPrompt based on a jisei written by /u/No311\n-------------\n\nIn the very heart of the battle stood a samurai, with a katana unsheathed, and a tanto strapped to his side, ordering his troops to move back and forth, ebbing and flowing like a tide.\n\nDespite the graceful movements of his army, positions switched, no longer a tide, serving the purpose of the rock; facing attrition from the enemy.\n\nAnd, in a fervor, retreat was commanded, his attempts at repulsing the forces at the mountain pass, before they reached the city failed.\n\nIn an act of self preservation, he abandoned his unit, and hid his armour.\n\nHe was a cheapskate, rather paying with dignity, than death.\n\nDespair set in, he would be an outlaw, returning to friend or foe resulted in demise.\n\nKnowing he would not survive in the wild, he opted for a swift death, granted mercy by his executioner, allowing him to create a passage, which he hoped would make his ancestors respect him - The only solace he could gain.\n\nAs he was dragged out to his feudal lord, dancing about nervously, much like a jester, and began:\n\n5000 bottles of sake on the mat...\n\n5000 bottles of sake!\n\nTake one out and pass it around\n\nBefore my life I will take!\n\n...\n\n0 bottles of sake on the mat\n\n0 bottles of sake!\n\nI don't want to die, that is why\n\n5000 bottles of sake I will make!", "Ever since he was sent back in time, Reiji Natori had been misplaced. Samurai and Emperors were just to much too handle. He had forgotten that he was supposed to bow and not lay eyes on his imperial magesty, and was now sentenced to death by dishonor. However, he must write a jisei before committing the act. He had the perfect plan, as they would support him until it was finished.\n\nHe began to write down all of his knowledge on the protein titin, using its full 189 thousand letter name. He doubted he would finish before actually dying of old age, but he endeavored anyway.", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nTakeda looked down at the scroll, it was complete. He picked up another blank parchment after placing the finished one down next to the fourteen before it. How was I to know that was the emperor's dog? he pondered as he shook his head. He looked over at the imperial guardsmen who watched over him, the shorter one yawned. He had been at this for the better part of a day now. He took solace in his ability to ramble on at will and his jisei would be no different. \n\nWhat rhymes with dog? He looked down at the character for dog: 犬 It looked very much like a man holding a stick. Perhaps, I should apologize to the dog's leg next? He drew a 足 on the page and licked his lips before debating where to go next. He had already dedicated pages to the Emperor and now seemed intent on giving praise to every inch of the dog.\n\nThe taller guard rolled his eyes, realizing Takeda had picked up another parchment. He cursed an oni upon Takeda and grumbled something less polite. \n\nTakeda didn't care. If he was going to die for dishonor, he was glad it wasn't on an empty stomach. Now what rhymes with tasty?\n\nEdit: one minor typo (fished/finished) facepalm" ]	3
What implicit characteristics does your partner share with a plant fruit/vegetable?	[WP] Metaphorically describe your ideal SO as a fruit or vegetable	[ "I kind of took it the route of describing a lover in an oearly twentieth century fashion.\n\nAdd some spices, and you'd get plenty of deserts. And that they have. A kiss so juicy and sweet, so rewarding. They grant knowledge. About you, about themselves, about the world around everyone. A perspective oh so forbidden.\n\nSo gripping, and easy to the eyes. A true pop and visual amongst the common green. So detailed, their existence a painting by a deeply suffering artist. Be a hero, let not they touch the ground too long, let not they be tainted by their own. Let them be a hero to yourself, let them save you from the hunger of solitude. And blindness.", "They said our love was forbidden. They said it was wrong, even immoral. Yet what does a society that violates the natural cycles of our earth know about love? Pesticides. Monoculture. War. These are the gifts of a civilization without strength of character.\n\nI did not seek her out, nor did I seek to resist her. Is this not how all genuine love blossoms? I was tending my fields in earnest, reaping the budding corn shucks from the rich spring soil when I first saw her. She was standing with a deep, silent strength that was palpable even from a distance. Her body swayed in perfect rhythm with the surrounding breeze, as if neither had known life without the other.\n\nI approached her slowly, casually, as though my path were eternal and without exigency. There was no seduction in my heart, though I will now admit my flushed cheeks betrayed my trepidation - I was simply a farmer, reaping his harvest as he always did. I passed her with only a slight glance, the same look I would give any singular, sanguine beauty in a field of yellow wash.\n\nIt was only when I heard the soft \"thuck\" of contact that I turned around. She had fallen, and my instinct told me it was no accident. I carefully walked back toward her, approaching with the gentle caution of one tending a wounded animal. As I came close, the noonday sun struck her rosy visage and she glowed with a dancing sparkle of crimson flame.\n\nMesmerized yet undaunted, I reached down and picked her up. Her skin was flawless. The smooth, sensuous symmetry set my heart alight with passion. My entire being, my very soul felt as if it had expanded beyond its narrow confines. I was free. I was alive. I was home. With a skip in my step not experienced since my boyhood days, I carried my treasure home.\n\nTomato, I love you." ]	2
"bakes" is obviously a typo, but since people have already made it the topic of their stories, I won't fix it. Feel free to use "bakes" or "baked" (as originally intended) as you see fit.	[WP] Ground control has just lost all contact to the international space station. Their last message was: "I know this sounds weird, but we all can smell it. Freshly bakes chocolate cookies..."	[ "Interview number 102 \n\nSubject= Alex Chrisinger \n\n\"Tell us about the event, on your own time of course\" the interviewer says into the microphone\n\n\"We, we had been playing golf when we smelt it the strong smell of baking cookies, i had never smelt anything so horrible first it was just a slight sniff on the wind and we all ignored it, but instead it got worse and worse, next thing we knew we could hardly breath, the thick smell of cookies was filling our brains\"\n\nThe subject begins to sniff loudly, like he is trying to smell that horrible smell once more he soon rubs his eyes and continues.\n\n\"We had run back to the car when the first impact happened, heh who would have thought it Cookie Aliens, they had taken out the ISS and were coming for the earth itself, the worst thing was the smell they made as the burnt up in the atmosphere and cooked on the way down, going from sloppy intelligent dough to hard cooked cookie\"\n\nThe interviewee looks down and remembers what he looks like, his new form that will be the new humanity the next world the next Biscuit \n ", "\"Ground Control, I know this sounds weird, but we can all smell it. Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.\"\n\n\"November Alpha One Sierra Sierra, sorry, chocolate chip cookies, did we hear you right?\"\n\n...\n\n\"NA1SS, please repeat, did not copy.\"\n\n...\n\n\"NA1SS, you ok up there?\"\n\n...\n\n\"Hey, Joe, keep trying to get NA1SS on that other frequency. Wait, did you hear that? I thought I just heard the faint sound of sleigh bells and reindeer hooves.\"\n\nI immediately pulled up the livestream record of the preliminary test launch and started looping through it while keeping at least one ear open so that if they picked up anything else ...\n\n((can't write more, falling asleep))", "'You, you expect us to live like this? Like animals?''\n\nPeter Brown was on night duty at NASAs ISS response room when the message crackled through. It had made him jump - he had been alone in silence for two hours and the voice that now shattered his reverie sounded disturbed. He took a deep breath, put down his crossword and responded.\n\n'Lieutenant Pashnikov, is that you?'\n\n'No food, just mush. Just shit. Day after day after day..I will find something. I am going to eat tonight. Even now I smell freshly baked chocolate cookies.'\n\nOh boy thought Peter as he sent a message to medical, requesting a copy of Pashnikov's psych evaluation. \n\n'I know it must be hard, but you're just going through a rough patch. We are going to get you through this.' Peter said in a calm but friendly voice.\n\n'Know? How could you know, you arrogant piece of shit. When you are alone in the cold for month on end, staring into a godless oblivion with no food, with no woman, just your thoughts - then maybe you know.'\n\n'You're not on your own. I'm sure the crew can relate better than I can. Have you spoken to Carlos about how you feel?'\n\n'Carlos.. yes maybe he give me some food for thought.'\n\nA small man entered the room and passed Peter a file. He opened it quickly. Heavy breathing punctuated by occasional fits of laughter came from the speaker as Peter skimmed through the results of Pashnikov's psych evaluation.\n\nHe muted the microphone and looked at the man.\n\n'Holy shit! Who the fuck approved him for the mission? He's on antipsychotics for Christ's sake.'\n\n'..Doctor Weaving was kinda pressured into approving him. There's no better engi-'\n\nPeter unmuted the microphone. 'Lieutenant, have you taken your meds today?'\n\nA slight delay followed.\n\n'They made me feel...unwell. I do not need them anymore so I flushed them into space. Mr Brown, I must go now, I think I smell.. cooked meat. And...there it is again, warm chocolate cookies.'\n\nThe transmission ended.\n\nPeter immediately tried to get in touch with the other crew on board, but either they were sleeping heavily or...\n\nHe called his boss on the emergency line as he watched in hopeless despair as the bio readings on the crew flat-lined one by one, until only a single bio reading remained.\n\nBy the time his boss arrived the last bio reading had just gone dead.\n", "\"Freshly bakes chocolate cookies... I don't get it Harold.\" \n\"I just read the message as it read sir. Could be a case of roleplay.\" \n\"What?\" \n\"As someone's grandmother sir. Maybe Captain Michaels is pretending to go senile.\" \n\"That's ridiculous Harold.\" \n\"He's been up there a while sir. Longer than most. Could be he's gone nuts.\" \n\"They could all smell it though. Or, was that part of the delusion?\" \n\"Who knows?\" \n\"Our astronauts on the International Space Station Harold. Don't tell me they actually tried to bake chocolate chip cookies up there...\" \n\"Or Captain Michaels at least sir. Freshly bakes chocolate cookies... I wish there was more to the message.\" \n\"Me too Harold. Now, if it read freshly baked chocolate cookies, we could assume Santa Clause went up there and, uh, did something.\" \n\"True, wouldn't that have been something. Lets rule out Santa Clause sir. Now, freshly bakes chocolate cookies...\" \n\"Expresses concern with our astronauts.\" \n\"Pardon?\" \n\"Sorry, just... trying to get into his mindset.\" \n\"He's not a criminal sir.\" \n\"I know.\" \n\"And you're not a detective.\" \n\"Just, let me try Harold. Hmm. Smells chocolate chip cookies. Bakes chocolate chip cookies. Blows up international ---\" \n\"Sir!\" \n\"What?\" \n\"We, we don't know it's gone! Communication may have stopped, but that doesn't mean the station is, is gone!\" \n\"Sorry Harold, I know you have a brother up there.\" \n\"I'm trying to get back in touch with Captain Michaels to get to the bottom of this.\" \n\"Very good. Commends ground control subordinate for great efforts.\" \n\"Knock it off sir.\" \n\"Ignores subordinates plea to continue roleplaying.\" \n\"I'll lodge a complaint!\" \n\"Freshly bakes chocolate cookies... oh that son of a bitch.\" \n\"What is it sir!\" \n\"Put me through to the station.\" \n\"Pardon?\" \n\"Just do it Harold.\" \n\"Ok. You're live.\" \n\"Thanks. This is Ground Control to the ISS.\" \n\"... They're not replying ---\" \n\"Merry Christmas assholes.\" \n\"MERRY CHRISTMAS GROUND CONTROL!\" \n\"Oh god damnit Captain Michaels!\" \n\"Sir?! What were they even...\" \n\"SHARES CHOCOLATE COOKIES WITH GROUND CONTROL!\" \n\"Stop that Captain Michaels!\" \n\"IGNORES GROUND CONTROL AND EATS CHOCOLATE COOKIES.\" \n\"He's roleplaying sir! Why the hell is he roleplaying?!\" \n\"I don't know Harold, but this is getting out of ---\" \n\"SHARES CHOCOLATE COOKIES WITH EVERYONE ELSE!\" \n\"We really need to rotate him out.\" \n\"SINGS YULETIDE CAROLS FOR GROUND CONTROL!\" \n\"Agreed sir.\" \n\n-----------------------\n\nMore at r/galokot, and thanks for reading! " ]	4
I figured there are too many specific, limiting stories, so just write a nice story about anything fantasy you want.	[WP] Write a simple fantasy story, with no plot twist or anything too crazy. Just a simple story.	[ "Knight and Day\n------------------\nThe knight dropped and pressed himself against a boulder to avoid the rich inferno that blazed over his shoulders. He took three quick breaths, recounting his minor successes against the pitch black dragon; three strikes to the shoulders, one to its right wing. A roar shook the debris around his metal feet and the beast smashed the tower with its tail in frustration.\n\nThe princess swept away the newly-fallen dust from the table, ‘Another brave knight desperate to rescue me from my obvious suffering,’ she sighed, sitting with a book. It was worn, with wrinkles down its face and spine. She continued reading stories about Greek heroes; Perseus, Hercules, and Odysseus. Next to her red leather armchair sat an ornamental end table with a fresh-baked cake and tea.\n\nAnother roar rattled the metal helmet until the knight felt no choice but to close his eyes and shake his head; a mistake. He was slammed by the massive tail into the side of the tower, and he hit the ground hard; small rocks caught in his breastplate, pressing his chest and making it even harder to breath in the broiling air tinged of smoke and smoldering dragon breathe.\n\nHumming drowned out the roaring, smashing, and the clashing sound whenever steel met aged scales. The bookshelf’s contents were tipped over, and she was straightening them up. Among them was a portrait of her when she was ten. Her parents were on either side of her, and each of them was smiling. Except her father, who had the content academic look where his lips where drawn thin, but yielded the slightest grin to the painter, showing his sense of liveness.\n\nThe sword and shield were beginning to feel too heavy. The sun never relented, and the piercing mismatched pair of blue and green eyes that studied him from the other side of the walled-in field. The knight gasped as he, too, studied the feral foe. The monster’s protective eyes never lost their focus, like the mother wolf the knight let go during a hunt, two winters ago; he noticed the thin line of the dragon’s jaws, and he felt drawn into the beast’s presence, nearly lost in the moment when the claws snapped forward.\n\nIn the mirror the young woman examined her youthful figure; she brushed her polished black hair in sweeping strokes, her long figure stood and studied herself, just in case she forgot later on. Her eyes still didn’t match, one blue and one green; a family trait. Leaving her reflection, she gathered the meat sack and prepared to feed her guardian. One lousy glory-seeker wouldn’t sate its appetite.\n\nA broken sword laid across the front of the knight, and his gimped arm dropped the shield before the figure collapsed in a broken steel heap; one surrounding chomp and he was gone.\n", "We walked along a gravel pathway lined with birch trees and maples and oaks on either side of us and there was some shade from the early afternoon sun because of sprouting leaves on the trees. I took her hand and it was sweaty and slick from the heat and bug spray we had on and I held her hand firm in mine. I asked her how she felt and what she thought of our walk and she told me that she felt fine and that it was so nice to get out of the city even though we were still very much in the city, just in a part where there wasn't towers and stores and cars and people on any side of us. I smiled and said I was glad that we could do something like this and that it had been a little bit too long since we had and that this summer we should take advantage of such a nice trail and she agreed and said in two weeks we should do it again, that is if we didn't die of exhaustion today. I laughed.\n\nWe reached a large circular sitting area with a fountain in the middle and a number of benches and picnic tables and drinking fountains and gardens. She asked me if I needed a break and I told her that I did but I didn't really, I just wanted to sit and enjoy the colorful trees and fresher air and the sun and the company we had in other hikers and joggers and strollers. We sat on a bench and I was still holding her hand. I asked her if she was having a good time and she said that she was and to stop asking her that because I had done so a few times already. I told her I was sorry and that I just wanted her to be happy and she said she was and as such I should stop asking. She smiled and kissed me and I allowed her to and I took it all in and I could feel her slick and sweaty hand on mine and my sweat was one with hers and I loved her. I took my lips off of hers and I stared into her eyes and I could smell her hair and the flowers around us and the fresher air. I smiled and I told her I was glad she was happy and I wouldn't want to be with anyone else and she said something to the same effect and kissed me again. \n\nI was happy and perfectly content in that moment and I knew that I had a plan for that night but like most other things I do I had to double check last minute that I was sure of what I wanted and that I had done my due diligence. I made a decision to ask her to marry me later that night after our dinner out and in that moment I knew it was the right decision and would be for the foreseeable future and I dare not try to look past where I'm not meant to or capable of. She was going to be mine and I held her hand in mine and I squeezed it hard but brief and I smiled at her once again while her head was turned from mine as she was looking at people walking by and the sky and the trees and flowers, and as she was looking at whatever her eyes were fixed on she asked me if I felt like just ordering pizza for dinner tonight instead of going out and I told her that was the best idea she ever had, and she laughed.", "Nothing was different stepping off the plane. The rural panhandle of Florida still smelled of salt water, which was a smell I never appreciated until now. My mother was still knitting and my father still drinking and reading the paper. I didn't come home a decorated war hero, I was never in the papers, but, I did come home, and they seemed proud of me for that. Many men would be thankful enough to make it home, and I was thankful. \n\n\"Where is Katherine?\" I assumed she'd be here\n\n\"Who?\" Pops muttered, not looking away from his newspaper\n\n\"Katherine, Dad. My fiance.\" \n\nI gave her a ring the day I left, and it had been two long years since. Her dark hair and dark eyes, the way she laughed. You only get so much from letters, my heart ached to see her again. \n\n\"When did you get engaged? Hopefully not to some French girl you met.\"\n\n\"Momma, is Dad okay?\" \n\n\"Hunny, who is Katherine? What on earth are you talking about?\" \n\nConfusion is to put it lightly. I felt as light as a feather and as heavy as cannonball all at the same time. How did my parents not remember her? She had been with me since we were 14, my parents adored her. They helped her pay for her schooling. She wanted to be a nurse. \n\n\"I have to go.\" I hugged them, apologized, and hurried home. \n\nI opened the door to our apartment and nothing was ever the same. The picture frames still hang where I remembered them, but they were empty. Missing the pictures of the two of us. I rushed around the house in a frenzy. I was pulled simultaneously towards angry and fear. I was lost. The closet half empty, only my clothes hang. Her record collection absent. Her toothbrush no longer next to mine. Every single trace of her had seemingly vanished, but nothing else out of place. What the fuck is happening? Where is she? \n\nI called her parents house, panicked and disorientated, I must have sounded insane.\n\n\"Katherine who?\" \n\nThis can't be happening. \n\nThe next 3 days bleed into one another. Everyone I spoke to had no memory of Kat, they looked at me like I was crazy. Shell-shocked, someone suggested. My thoughts were drowning in her, the little details you can't just make up. She would eat the crust of her pizza first. When she was sad she would leave me letters if she couldn't find the words to speak about it. And now, a void. No letters, no toothbrush, no one to believe me. I could lay down and never stand again. \n\nI spent the next week closed off. I drank and slept and cried. Late one afternoon I awoke to a least expected happening. Next to me was a cat, fast asleep. We didn't own a cat, I had never owned a cat in all my life. The cat woke for only a moment, purred softly, and pressed closer to me. We both drifted back to sleep, comfortable and alone.\n\nI awoke that evening and wondered if the feline was part of a vivid dream, but before I could finish that thought, I saw her. She was moving about the house as if it was her childhood home, a place she never left. Her coat the same black as Katherine's hair, like looking into infinity.\n\nI can't tell you why it made me feel better. I can't rationalize why the cat reminded me of her, or why she never left. I can't tell you where the pictures from the empty frames have gone. I can only know in my heart that in some strange and melancholy way, I have regained a piece of something once lost. \n\nI have never reconciled what truly happened, I stopped trying. I simply buy more milk than I used to. And I guess that's okay.\n\n\n\n", "#A Tale of Quetzal the Riodan; The Squirrel and the Acorn#\n\nHerwald's tavern was busier than usual tonight. The humble sitting room, usually hosting no more than a dozen denizens at its busiest, was packed to the rafters. Not just laborers or field hands as was usually the case, but women came, some with bundled babes in arm. Children slunk between legs as tall as they, trying to find a spot at the front of the gathering. All eyes were turned towards the back left hand corner of the room, laying behind the soft glow of the fireplace. A man sat there, wearing simple, road worn clothes, ensconced in a hooded cloak the color of an evening sky. By his feet on either side lay a mandolin, worn with use, yet to the trained eye, lovingly cared for, and a scythe, less worn than the mandolin, but obviously belonging in its place at it's masters' feet. The hood of the cloak was thrown back, revealing tosseled hair so pale blond that was nearly white. His eyes were grey like a winter river, alight right now with a deep seated passion. The muscles in his narrow face were livid as he spoke, almost comically so; but his voice had a depth to it, a shallow bass, and his words were conveyed with such earnestness, one could not help but listen as at the feet of a priest. His gestures were measured, issued with the ease of a practiced story teller. The crowd around was absolutely silent, so that even the soft crackling of the fire seemed a disturbance. The light from the flames made the shadows dance around his face, so that he seemed almost a specter, something otherworldly, though everything else about him was perfectly material. \n\n\"So thus he said 'Justice is for the many, yet, vengeance is for the wronged.' And so ends the tale of Io the Sawn-String.\"\n\nThe crowd remained silent, ideas and images running through their heads like a creek into a pond. \n\n\"But\" a small, soft voice broke the silence. \"what happened to Io?\"\n\nThe teller found the source of the voice, a small, red headed lad, no more than twelve winters. He shrugged. \"What happens to those who decide justice for themselves?\"\n\n\"They're hung.\" The boy answered innocently.\n\n\"They're hung.\"\n\n\"But Io was right...wasn't he?\"\n\nThe story wielder gave a small smile. \"He certainly thought so.\" He turned his attention to the crowd at large. \"The night grows long, and I must soon rest. Before I sleep, however, I would ask of you all something in return for the tales you've heard. Not gold, or silver, though such baubles would be appreciated. Even singers close their mouths to eat.\" A low chuckle went around the room. The teller smiled briefly, then continued with his sober plea. \"Yet I know you have little enough of these things. So what I will ask of you, is something only you can give me. No other is capable of the task.\" One could almost feel the breath in the room still, as every mind contemplated what such a man of this could ask of any of them. \n\n\"I want your stories...told only as you can tell them. Are there any here willing to acquiesce?\" \n\nThe room shifted, not willing to meet the man's questioning gaze. What stores could they offer this grand tale teller? No grandfather among them here had slain giants, or rode in great wars. None had become a partner to the deepest of love, or a slave to the cruelest spell. They were farm folk, with farm stories, not fit for the likes of a man like that which sat before them now.\n\nQuetzal sighed inwardly, thinking once again that country humility would rob him of yet another strike. Suddenly, the young, red headed buy stepped forward. \n\n\"I've got a story, master bard.\"\n\nThe boys mother, her own hair a deep rouge, glanced sheepishly at the bars, and began to pull her son back. Quetzal raised his hand, shot a beaming smile at the lad. \"Please, young sir. Sing your song.\"\n\nThe boy was suddenly unsure. He glanced back at his mother. She nodded towards the stranger with a look that said \"You've got to finish it now.\" \n\nHe kept his eyes on the ground, only looking up for quick studies of the tellers face. Quetzal was impressed when he didn't mutter away the story.\n\n\"Once there was a great king of the wood, ruler of all the creatures and creeping things that lived within the wood. One day, he declared a tithe from all his subjects, gifts to please the king.\n\nThe stag pledged his herd, to feed the king in winter when the fields offered naught. The king was pleased, and honored the stag as first lord of his court.\"\n\n\"The second to come was the fox. He offered his wit, pledging to seek knowledge and wisdom that would bring the king prosperity. The king was pleased, and honored him as second lord of his court.\"\n\n\"The third to come was the boar. He offered his strength to the king, to act as guard and shield against any and all who would seek to harm him. The king was pleased, and honored the boat as third lord of his court.\"\n\n\"Now the last to come was the squirrel. The squirrel, having no herd, or wit, or strength, gave to the king an acorn. 'Humble it may be' he said 'but beneath its face beats the heart of an oak.' The king was angered by the simple gift. He banished the squirrel from his court, condemning him to the outer reaches of his realm, where the hawk and wolf flourish.\"\n\n\"In time though, a great storm can upon the kings' realm. So great was its wrath that the trees around the kings' court were felled, and the land round bout became barren. The squirrel returned then, as the king lay, weeping in the ruins of his realm. To him he said 'If you'd taken the gift of my acorn, and planted it anon, your kingdom would yet live-for it would have grown into an oak, and no storm has come upon men yet which can fell an oak. Even so, now you are king of nothing. And so the foolishness of your wisdom passes.'\"\n\nThe boy looked up then, as one reciting well versed rhetoric. \n\n\"The lesson then is this: kingdoms may yet grow out of the simplest of seeds.\"\n\nHe met the strangers gaze shyly. \"Is...is that what you meant.\" \n\nQuetzal hadn't stopped smiling from the moment the boy started talking. He held out his hand, and the boy came forward. Surprising all, he hugged the lad. Then holding him at arms length, he said \"I could hope for nothing more. Now listen to the truth of your own story, little seed. Hold to it like morning dew upon the grass. And you'll not oft go astray.\"\n\nWith this final word, he gathered his mandolin and scythe together, making his way through the astounded crowd, upstairs to awaiting sleep.", "\"How long until the blues and reds?\" Marg asked, tapping impatiently on the counter. \n\nOld lady Sali huffed. \"My girl, I'm working as fast as I can.\" She picked up a tray of set cookie dough, each one littered with red and blue chocolate buttons, and placed them in the oven. \n\n\"I know, I'm sorry, Sali. Don Vilo's boys are pressuring me, that's all.\" \n\n\"Those rascals,\" Sali said,\" without my supply they wouldn't be able to hold off the slum dogs, let alone the guards.\" \n\nMarg smirked. \"They know that. The Don stresses when he runs low on cookies, thas all.\"\n\n\"Vilo, he's been that way since he was a boy,\" Sali said. She looked up, deep in thought, and then burst out in laughter. \n\n\"What?\" Marg asked. \"Oh, nothing, nothing.\"\n\n\"Come on, Sali! You can't not tell me now. Especially if it's about the, Don,\" Marg said. \n\n\"I was just thinking back to when Vilo was a boy. He was picked up by a few bronze shields, and they brought him straight here, saying he was caught smuggling cookies.\n\nThey wanted to arrest him.\" She paused, taking the batch from the oven. \n\nSali continued, \"But I scolded him, and promised that If I ever found cookies again, he'd never see the light of day. Funnily enough, we cooked three dozen right after.\"\n\nMarg chuckled, and then stared at the cookies. \"They smell delicious.\"\n\nOld lady Sali placed the batch into a silver bag and then handed her a steaming treat. \"Blow on it first.\"\n\nMarg blew on the cookie and then bit into it.\n\nDali watched as the girl faded away, becoming invisible.\n\n \"Did it work?\" Margy asked. \n\n\"You're as see through as glass, love. Don't be too long.\" \n\n\"See you soon,\" a voice quirked from down the street. \n\n", "When adventurers meet at a tavern, it's inevitable that they'll start comparing their deeds and trying to decide which of them is the greatest hero of all.\n\nIn this particular instance, A wizard, a knight, a cleric, and a commoner were in the tavern. The commoner, of course, was a fixture at the place, but the others were newcomers and so talked first.\n\nThe Wizard began his boasting: \"I come to this tavern after just today having located tomes of knowledge for our kingdom.\"\n\nThere was scattered applause. The Knight went next: \"You may recall that the princess Esmerelda was kidnapped by the chancellor only last week. It was I who rescued her, and brought the chancellor to justice!\"\n\nThis was met with nods and clapping. Then the Cleric: \"I have traveled the lands these last months, healing the infirm and destitute.\"\n\nEveryone nodded reverently at this show of selflessness. Finally, the commoner dared speak up.\n\n\"I am paying for your drinks.\"\n\nAnd truly, he was the greatest hero of all." ]	6
	[WP] A person is greeted by two of their children from the future, each from a different timeline. They must decide which timeline to follow and which child to give up.	[ "This is, nerve-racking. To say the least. It isn't often that you meet two potential children of yours. Waiting for the first child to enter, I look around the room, in which, I will determine fate. It's plain white, with two chairs on opposite sides of the room. Very Spartan. But, the dreadful silence that's befallen the room only makes the waiting more unbearable. Five minutes. Four minutes. Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute.\n\nAt the chime of a bell, a seemingly teenage girl enters through a door marked with a lightning bolt. She had my eyes, but she also had a flair of the east in her. And, she had a certain aura about her. One that says, \"I will never give up\". She sits on the chair opposite to mine. After a tense moment, she starts speaking.\n\n\"F-father. My name is Morgan. I'm seventeen, and I'm, well obviously, from a potential future. In my future, you enter college and choose a path to programming the world's first true A.I. You struggled to get the basic supplies you needed,and you almost gave up. But, you never did. You kept working with what you had until you created your first unit. You called it, 'Íonachta'. It was simple but you build it up. After college, you worked freelance. You met mother after a friend introduced you two. At age 25, mother gave birth to me. Your work in A.I. has vastly improved the standard of living. But, someone tried to modify your work. The results of that are unknown as of yet. But I know that if it's for evil, you will stop them. Along with Mother and Íonachta.\" \n\nA voice emanates through the room, \"Time is up. Future child, please exit the room.\"\n\n\"Goodbye Father.\"\n\nShe stands up, walks to me, and gives me a big hug. I hugged her back. After what seemed like an eternity, we part. And she heads back through the door.\n\n\n>Chapter 1/3", "What is in this dryer? Why do I always get socks stuck way in the back? What!? The back opens? I guess that's what happens when you do laundry at midnight. The back of the dryer opens into...oh shit! It's a freaking portal! Is this Narnia? I hope not, because talking lions and Turkish delights sound like too much to deal with right now. I'd rather have a talking snail buddy that I can take a nap by then wake up and follow his trail. This is a long, dark hole. How many other long dark holes are there in the world? I wonder where it leads. I wonder if I'm going to die if I hit the bottom. When I hit the bottom? If, definitely if. Oh! Well that's good that I didn't die. Now who are these two weirdos in front of me? They kind of look like me. Well one does, the other one kind of scares me. I guess I'll greet them. Hello you two weirdos! Hopefully they can't read my thoughts. Oh crap, now I should think about something else. Here they come. Okay.\n\nShaun: Hello, father. I am your son from the future. I am having an inter-dimensional debate with Sean about which one of us is actually real. We have used the time moleculizer thingy ma whats it to bring you here where time does not exist.\n\nYeah that's cool I guess. But how do I know he, they're, them, these two dudes, are my sons?\n\nShaun: You do not have to believe either one of us is telling the truth. Please observe us then choose which one of us will represent your seed in the future.\n\nSo these guys are the ones who didn't end up on a paper towel.\n\nShaun: We will now present a battle of the mind. Please tell us when to go.\n\nOkay, go. I like that band...well their videos but not their songs.\n\nShaun: I am thinking of a number between one and ten. Can you tell me what it is, Sean?\n\nSean: Sixteen?\n\nShaun: No.\n\nSean: Tostada?\n\nShaun: No. One guess remaining.\n\nSean: Tostada with beans?\n\nShaun: No, it was three. The representative number of the eternity of the holy trinity: Larry the Cable Guy Mos Deaf and Curly Sue. Now, Shaun, it is your turn. Think of a number between one and ten. I shall try to guess it.\n\nSean: Okay.\n\nWhat the fuck is going on?\n\nShaun: WITH THE POWER THAT IS MINE I STICK MY THUMB IN MY BEHIND AND READ WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND!\n\nOh, I guess I'm safe from mind reading as long as he doesn't have his thumb in his ass.\n\nShaun: Sean, you are thinking about a toilet.\n\nSean: Nope!\n\nShaun: Now you are thinking of taking a giant dump on a nice toilet.\n\nSean: Nope!\n\nShaun: Now you're thinking of pushing out a toilet into a giant dump.\n\nSean: Nope!\n\nShaun: Now you're thinking of oatmeal.\n\nSean: Yep! But you used all your guesses so I am the absolute winner!\n\nWhat the fuck is going on?\n\nSean: Now the second competition....Juggling.\n\nNo! Nope! I've got shit I need to do today and I'm pretty sure my dress shirts are getting wrinkled. I'm getting a vasectomy and going home.\n\nI never thought I'd be so relieved to be back in this laundry mat.", "The pail was full to the brim and the witch stirred the clear water gently with her finger to keep surface from icing over. \n\nAbigail stood shivering in the snow and dead branches. Mercy had been left swaddled in blankets back at the cottage, but her twin was held tightly in Abigail's arms. The unnamed child slept quietly despite that terrible chill, her pink nose barely visible beneath the blanket. \nSay one word more and nothing you see will come to pass, the witch had told her. Say a word, but for the name of the babe, and you will have sinned for sin alone. And what a wretched sin it is. \n\nThe witch turned her finger so as to scrape her nail sharply against the tin wall of the pail. Abigail looked at the witch's chapped lips and saw no breath. Her own was thick white clouds in the morning air, and a steam seemed to rise from the babe's swaddling. When Abigail did not move forward the screeching stopped and the witch looked up at her with warm brown eyes. Eyes that Abigail thought to beg her not to continue. But she did. Each footfall sunk deep in the snow, always finding brittle twigs beneath to break and frighten the birds. The witch sighed, this time with white vapor, and scratched quickly, roundly, within the pail. \n\nPeering down, Abigail could see only the swirling water, but no vision. Only the occasional flash of sky or tree or her own hard aquiline face reflecting back and then rippling and vanishing again. What was she doing here? Why had she not just risked travel back to the city? Tried to find another husband? Who would want a woman with two children? With no horse, was she to walk this country with a babe in each arm? Why had her husband been such a fool? Why did he think he could ride? Why couldn't he horse have survived the fall? Stupid animal. Why had David left her with not one mouth to feed, but two? Why had he... The screeching yielded again and the witch gazed up, but just before the water stilled, \"Mercy,\" Abigail said. And nothing more. \n\nThe water swirled and the metal cried. Shadows came first, then a faint green light illuminated them. A golden haired girl, lovely. And smart, she had a quill in her hand and was writing, writing what? A book! Mercy the author. A husband drifted into the scene, well-dressed and handsome, but for his spectacles and a braced leg. He tried to peek at a finished page and was playfully batted away. The room was beautiful, all mahogany carved with ornate filigree and large windows with velvety curtains and gold fringe. A maid holding a child, a golden haired boy entered the vision and then the witch's nail reversed. The swirl of the pool went from clockwise to counter clockwise and the images faded. \n\nThe twin in her arms began to wiggle and writhe, cooing at first, then crying when it felt the cold air breaking through the folds of the blanket. Abigail wanted to hush it, but would a hush be taken as a word? Abigail dared no break the silence as the water revealed the most gorgeous mansion she had ever seen. The golden haired Mercy was just as beautiful as before if, perhaps, slightly more plump. Maybe with child, but indulgence was more likely as slaves were serving her and her friends sweaty glasses of sweetened tea and platters of apple slices, strawberries, molasses cookies, ginger snaps, and more, so much more, always more. Her chestnut-haired husband here was not quite so dashing, but wore no spectacles or brace. He also seemed to speak more to the other men, who smoked pipes at the far porch as the women gabbed over treats. SKRREEEEEEECCCCHH\n\nThe witch swirled the water clockwise again and looked up at Abigail. SKREECH back to counter clockwise. The baby in her arms pushed aside the blanket and stared up with watery eyes, grey eyes, like her father's. SKREEEEEEECCCCCHHHHH The blanket fell to the ground, the naked babe's was hot to her cold palms and her little heart was pounding little hummingbird beats in her hands as it thrashed in the cold air, she could see her ribs. She could not feed them both. There was no way. There wasn't. SKREEEEEECCCCHHHH. She held the baby in front of her, wanting to hold her, to quiet her, to warm her. SKREEEEEEECCCHHHHHH \n\nWith the icy water at her elbows, the dim green image of the writing desk and child at play turned to vivid color. Another chapter of her life showed Mercy at a stage play for one of her novels. Her husband's hair had turned white and Mercy had three daughters as well as a son. Abigail could see herself sitting between the two youngest girls. She hadn't aged a day, but her eyes were no longer blue, but warm brown eyes. The image faded and the water stilled. Through the ice she could now see the blackened eyes of the unnamed babe, lips blue and a ribbon of red floating from the nostrils of its little pink nose. \n\nAbigail pulled her baby free from the tin pail and screamed till the cords in her neck were taught and near breaking. The witch was gone, her footsteps vanishing north, and by the position of the sun it was past noon. Abigail's hands were numb and dark red and her sleeves were thick with ice. Mercy! she thought, still, after so much, unwilling to break the silence. She snatched the blanket from the ground and wrapped the dead baby tightly, covering her pale head, because Abigail could not bear to see it again. Not like that. \n\nShe stomped through the dense wood, following the footsteps she had left that morning. When she could see the cottage through the trees, she caught sight of something else...footprints from the north. Rows of them. Mercy.\n\nShe hurried. Tripping on a root buried in the snow and twisting her ankle as she fell. There was pain, terrible pain, but she did not scream. All of her thoughts were on the cottage and the daughter she had let live, the daughter she had left alone just as the witch had told her. She limped across the field and as she approached her home she could see that the old door to the cabin was ajar. All she found inside was darkness. \n\n", "There was a low pitched humming emanating from the closet. \n\nBurt had found it curious that such a sound should be coming from his closet. He didn't have a vacuum cleaner or refrigerator stored there and certainly not one he'd leave running. \n\nHe considered taking a peek but was stuck fearing there might be some Alien or human annihilator machine waiting if he opened the door. Burt knew the deal on his apartment was too good to be true, 850 a month plus utilities right in downtown? Of course the landlord was sacrificing his tenants to some otherworldly entity, it's not like he had anyone to come looking for him after Carol dumped him. He was sure the worst month of his life was about to end with him losing the only thing he had left to give-- his life. The humming persisted for a few more minutes while Burt stayed frozen in the same sport, maybe he was safe if he left the door shut? Unfortunately the door opened despite his inaction. \n\nBurt screamed in terror as it swung open, \"Please, show mercy!\" he covered his face hoping it'd protect him from the monster's tentacles or the alien's vaporizing ray. Instead of death a perplexed voice responded, \"uh, what?\" a young man with messy brown hair and familiar face stood in front of the closet door. \n\nBurt looked through the cracks of his forearm shield at the young man. His fear immediately turned into rage at the completely terrestrial intruder, \"What the hell are you doing in my closet, you pervert?!\" he shouted. The young man started waving his hands frantically, \"No, no. no. It's not like that at all Da...\" Burt tackled the intruder, they fell right into the closet, where he started shaking him violently and cursing.\n\nThe tunnel vision rage distracted Burt from the fact he was not in his closet but instead on a rather ginormous sophisticated platform, the platform which seemed to float magically in the middle of an even more ginormous room was illuminated by a single light on the platform that lit every chrome panel in the spherical room. It didn't take long for him to notice though when he stopped to take a breather from all the cursing, his stomach dropped suddenly with the realization that his fears of death or abduction her valid. \n\n\"I'm so sorry!,\" his shift in mood was nearly instantaneous as he'd already helped the intruder up to his feet, \"I have uncontrollable spasms, same with bad words-- comes out uncontrollably. Please forgive me, sir\" he bowed to his new alien overlord. Burt heard it making strange sounds, he did his best not to cry as he looked up expecting to see the young man have changed into some terrifying form; what he saw was the intruder biting his lip trying to hold in laughter. It was somehow more terrifying.\n\nAfter the intruder had stopped laughing some time later he finally spoke. He explained to Burt that they were in a sort of inter-dimensional lobby for time travelers and that he was Burt's future son (his name was Eli) and that Carol had never broken up with Burt in his future and wanted to help his father win back his mother so he wouldn't be blinked out of existence. Eli didn't go too much into detail about Burt's future but assured him that Carol was his destiny, \"I don't know. She made it clear that she wasn't happy with me anymore, s-- Eli,\" Burt wondered if there was a way to win her back. \n\n\"Look, you guys have a loving relationship, I see the way she looks at you and you her dad,\" Eli tried to convince him to try. \n\nThey discussed it for what felt to them like hours when the humming sound started again. Burt looked at Eli who just shrugged with the same wide-eyed dopey look Burt had on his face. Shortly after the humming noise began again another person flashed into the lobby. It was a blonde haired young woman whose hair had that same messy look as Eli's. \n\n\"Dad, I-- uh, what're you doing here?\" Burt pointed to himself to confirm she meant him, \"Yes, you're not suppose to-- never mind, I need to stop you from missing the chance to meet mom,\" she started talking about meeting his future wife sometime after breaking up with a woman he'd been with for some time before then. \n\nEli's face turned printer paper white, he didn't recognize her as his sister; he was an only child in fact. Burt had noticed his reaction and asked his daughter(Petra) to stop for a second, \"What's your mom's name, hmm?\" he'd asked just to confirm his suspicion. Her mom's name was Anya, they'd met at a movie festival he was suppose to go to with a previous girlfriend (Carol). \n\n\"No, that's not how it happens,\" Eli finally mustered up the power to say something. The girl finally noticed him for the first time since she flashed onto the platform, \"And who are you?\" she asked, now also confused along with Burt and Eli. After telling her who he was she almost fainted from the shock. Burt caught Petra before she could fully black out from the shock. \n\nWho knew walk-in closets could lead to such a crisis? Burt didn't know what to do. He felt a strong bond to both of them that was impossible to describe but he knew they were both his and they both deserved a chance, at least to Burt. What could he do for them, he had to choose one of them... didn't he? It would be impossible to pick between two kids he didn't know but loved equally, they could both be saviors of the world or the next Stalin or a faceless citizen. Burt let Petra go after she recovered from the shock and ran off the platform, he didn't know how it worked but he just wanted to land back in his closet and be home.\n\nBurt had barricaded the door after he got home and decided to do nothing. He heard the humming sound not long after he got back and sure enough Petra and Eli were at the door, pleading and knocking relentlessly. It was a few days before the knocking stopped and the weight of his decision weighed heavily on his conscious for the last few moments before he'd died. Burt had gone into the bathroom and cut his wrists, he couldn't live knowing he'd killed one child in place of another. \n \n ", "(AN: Italics symbolizes speaking in German, normal text is English.)\n\nThrough a long and complicated series of errors, I ended up being born with dual citizenship, British and American. I suppose the best way to explain the series of errors is that, despite being a successful businessman, my father didn’t exactly have the best sense of how long a pregnancy generally lasted and accidentally booked a business trip in London right around my mother’s due date. \n\nIt ended up being useful in the long-run, though. Because of that nifty little Schengen policy, I could live and work anywhere I wanted in Europe. Because of that, when my dad wanted me to pick a private school, he let me look at ones in the EU, and I ended up going to a boarding school way out in Germany. I had no idea what to expect, but I ended up falling love with the area and, when it came time to apply to college, the only universities I ever even applied to were German. I wanted to spend the rest of my life here, in Germany, and I’d even heard a legal firm down in Munich wanted to hire me and help me do just that. Everything was looking great for me.\n\nIt was the night before my graduation when all of that changed, however. Right when I was about to fall asleep, my phone rang on the bed next to me, filling my small apartment with the harsh buzzing of wood against plastic. Groaning, I leaned over, and picked up the phone to see who on Earth wanted to call me at this late hour.\n\n”805 Area Code. Los Angeles. Dad.” I managed to think through the fog of exhaustion, and I begrudgingly answered the phone.\n\n“Hey, Leo! It’s me, your dad! How are you, son?” my father’s overly-excited and just far too loud voice came through.\n\n“I’m good, dad. Can we keep this quick? It’s midnight here, and I have my graduation tomorrow.” I said, barely managing to string together coherent sentences.\n\n“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I have some amazing news! A staffer over at the company just retired, and I wanted to offer you the job! You’d get to come back to LA with us! What do you say?”\n\nI groaned. It was way too late at night (or early in the morning, as it were) for all of this life-changing bullshit. “No, thanks, Dad.” I muttered, stifling a yawn, “I think I wanna stay in Europe, at least for a few more years.”\n\n“Oh, I figured you’d say that, and that’s why I saved the best for last! It comes with a six-figure starting salary, all-expenses-paid healthcare, and an apartment in downtown LA! What do you say to that, son?”\n\nI groaned again. I’d get free healthcare here in Germany, anyway, and part of the reason I left the states was because I really hated Los Angeles. Still, there was no denying that the salary made the offer...compelling. I could do so much with all that money, and plus, it basically gave me the CEO’s chair once my father retired. I would basically be famous – but, still, I’d have to leave my life here in Germany.\n\n“I don’t know, Dad. Look, can I have a few days to think it over? This is some pretty big stuff you’re asking of me.”\n\n“I’m afraid I can’t, son. There’s a backlog of fifty applicants and I can only hold their forms for so long. The latest I can give you is eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”\n\n“My time or yours?” I asked, impatiently.\n\n“Mine. Why would I use yours?” \n\nI groaned for yet a third time.\n\n“Bye, Dad.” I spit out quickly, before hanging up. For some reason, I was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion, like I’d just run a marathon right after swimming three gold medal-winning races in an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep.\n\nLight began to peer through my eyelids, slowly forcing me awake. What wasn’t helping at all was the cold water being sprinkled on my face, like the world’s weakest ice hose. Suddenly, a particularly large drop hit my eye, and I shot awake.\n\nStanding in front of me was a teenage girl, with freckled skin and dark brown hair pulled messily back into a bun. A glass of ice water sat on the table next to her, proving her crime. \n\nI wracked my mind, trying to see if I knew her, or had met her some place. She looked a heck of a lot like my friend Ada from finance class, but her hair and eyes were both several shades darker. In a way, she vaguely reminded me of my sister Inez, but I couldn’t place my finger on why.\n\n“Come on, father.” she said, stoically, “Mother’s already there. We’re going to miss the train if we don’t hurry.”\n\n“The train?” I asked, cracking my neck, “What train?”\n\n“Come on, father. You know I don’t speak English very well.” the girl said, rolling her eyes, “You never taught me.”\n\n“Sorry...” I muttered, switching my brain over to its other language, “What train are we going to miss?”\n\n“The one to brother’s graduation, of course. Mother’s already there. We’re going to have to hurry if we don’t want to miss it.”\n\n“Alright, alright. Sorry...Sofia.” I had no idea where I got the name, but it suddenly flooded into my mind.\n\n“It’s alright. Just hurry up, father!”\n\nI got out of bed and hurried into the shower. Details of this life slowly began returning to me; I had gone to work at the legal firm in Munich, where I learned one of the partners was actually Ada’s father. Later that year, wanting to stay “close to home”, Ada began working at the legal firm as well, where the two of us quickly bonded. A successful legal career led to a successful marriage, and we were able to welcome two children into the world: Adam Emil Hernandez, and then, four years later, Sofia Adala Hernandez. Adam was about to graduate college with a degree in law, and start practicing at the firm with him and Ada. Sofia had just been accepted into her first choice of university, and was on her way to pursuing a lucrative biochemistry career. It was a good life, a perfect life, and he couldn’t say he wanted more.\n\n“What about me, daddy?”\n\nI whipped around, trying to locate the sound of the voice that had just scared me senseless. A young girl, no more than twelve, was standing outside the shower, staring coldly at me with piercing, ice blue eyes. Her skin was significantly darker than Sofia’s, showing much of my olive complexion, but her hair was a dirty blonde, and fell in curls around her shoulders.\n\n“It’s okay.” she said, in perfect American English, “I know you don’t really care about me. All you ever cared about was money.”\n\n“Wha-What do you mean?” I asked, stumbling as I tried to switch languages in my head.\n\n“I knew you wanted to go back to Germany, but mommy would never let you. I’d guess you never even wanted to leave, but you came here following granddaddy’s money. That’s how you met mommy, too.” \n“Mommy? Who’s your mother...” my brain struggled for a name, but just as Sofia’s had, her’s suddenly popped into my brain, “...Emily?”\n\n“Her name’s Karen Amell. Her family ran some big pharmaceutical company in Vancouver, and when you saw her, you saw a good chance to, let’s say...merge your companies.” \n\n“No...” I muttered, my head spinning. “Marry someone for money? That…that’s awful. I’d never…”\n\n“You’d never do something that overtly greedy? Think again, daddy. You would, and you did. In fact, that’s all you ever did. You followed the money trail without any regard for who you hurt, even if you were hurting yourself.”\n\nEmily grinned, and looked around the room, her blue eyes showing what was almost a parody of interest. \n\n“You know, daddy, this is a nice place you got here. Not as nice as the one you had back in LA, but still. It feels…homey. Just goes to show you money can’t buy you everything.”\n\n“What are you trying to say?” I asked, a strange mix of confusion and anger swelling up inside of me and seizing control of my thoughts. \n “I’m saying you’re gonna choose this life. It’ll be hard at first, sure, and you won’t make as much money or have as much name recognition, but trust me. I know you. You don’t want that. You don’t want me. You only think you do.”\n\nTears began to well up in the young girl’s eyes. I might not have lived it, but I remembered all of her life – every fight her parents had, every night she laid awake wondering if both her parents would make it to tomorrow; every tear she ever cried, every piece of flesh she ever cut. He didn’t want anybody to live like that.\n\n“I’m sorry for putting you through that.” I said, embracing my daughter for what would be the first and the last time.\n\n“You shouldn’t be. None of it’s gonna happen anymore.”\n\nI felt the warmth fade from my hands as the young girl’s form began to fade, leaving behind nothing but a voice on the wind that said:\n\n“Goodbye, daddy. I hope you end up happy.”\n\nI shot awake in my bed, cold sweat dripping down my back. I glanced over at my clock, and saw that it was only 3AM. Good – there was still time.\n\nI reached over and grabbed my phone, quickly dialing my father’s number. After ringing twice, I heard the line connect and the voice of my father come through.\n\n“Leo! Have you thought about my offer?”\n\n“I have, Dad. I’m going to have to decline.”\n\n“What? Why?!”\n\n“I don’t know, Dad. I just don’t think I’ll be very happy there.”\n\nFor a moment, all I heard was silence. I was suddenly filed with dread, like I had said the exact wrong thing at the exact wrong time. Then, my father came back on.\n\n“Look, son, with all due respect, you’re being a fucking fool. I could give you everything you ever wanted, and more – so much more. What are you gonna get over there – a job at some base-rate legal firm in Munich? You’re better than that – “\n\n“No, Dad. I think I’m better than you. I’d rather be happy than rich.” I said, and I hung up the phone.\n\nLife wasn’t going to be easy from here on out – Emily had warned him of that. But at least he knew what was coming, and he knew he’d have Ada and her father and all the people at the firm to help him through it. He wouldn’t get fame or fortune, and he was fine with that. He’d taken a different road, the one more travelled, and yet it felt so much better.", "I left my job late that night, having lingered in the office to finish some work. And, if I was being totally honest, to steal a few words with Jake. He was five years my senior and a candidate for an executive position, so he was always busy during the day. After work, however, we usually found excuses to hang around and chat. I was riding on cloud nine as I shut off the bright fluorescent lights and locked the door–he had asked me to come over later that night! I had never been the sort of girl to get all giddy over a guy, but now I sort of knew how they felt. What would I wear...?\n\nI left the office complex whistling, and began the long walk to my apartment. It's only a long walk if I stick to the main roads, I thought. I had cut through back alleys to get to lab before–if I was running late–but only during the daytime. At night, they were dark as pitch, unilluminated by the warm orange glow of streetlights. Still, I mused, I could use some extra time to get ready…\n\nI was about to turn onto one of the nameless tiny streets that would lead back to my apartment when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around, startled.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I demanded, hands raised to protect my face. \n\n\"Don't go that way,\" the mysterious person answered, or, well, didn't answer.\n\n\"Don't tell me what to do. I'll ask again, who are you?\"\n\n\"Very bad things will happen if you take that shortcut.\"\n\nI squinted through the dim light to see the speaker's face. \"At least let me get a clear look at you.\" My voice shook, betraying the fear that welled up inside me.\n\n\"You need not know my name nor my face. Just don't go that way. Your life–and mine–depend on it.\"\n\n\"H-how does your life depend on me taking the long way home?\" As I asked the question, an answer occurred to me. He's probably going to rob me. He's been tracking me, and if I slip into the alley, he'll lose me. I took a step towards the darkness.\n\n\"Don't!\" His had shot out to grab my wrist and he yanked me back forcefully. I twisted my hand away and brought it up defensively.\n\n\"How dare you touch me! Leave me alone, or I will call the police.\" I brought my phone out, showing my intention to make good on my threat.\n\nHe raised his hands in a placating gesture. \"Don't do that. Please. Just listen. You're on your way back to your apartment after a long day in the office. You've been invited over a coworker's place.\"\n\n\"Creep!\" I spat, and moved to dial 9-1-1 into my phone.\n\n\"Wait! Wait. Listen. You get home safely, and call Jake. He comes to pick you up. You both go out for a drink and then back to his place. You have a lovely time, you really hit it off.\"\n\n\"You stopped me to tell me my fortune?\" I asked in distain. Freak. \"Besides, all that will just happen 15 minutes earlier if I go down this alley.\"\n\n\"No. It won't.\"\n\n\"What happens, then?\" I inquired sarcastically. Fortune tellers can only weave a tale so far.\n\n\"I don't know.\" \n\nI gave a little humph, happy to catch him in his lie. \n\n\"All I know is that, if you go down that way, I won't exist.\"\n\nThere was a beat of silence. \"Excuse me, what?\"\n\nHe sighed. \"I had hoped not to divulge so much to you. I was so certain it wouldn't take much to persuade you to stay on the well-lit path. But now…\" He paused. \"I'm your son. Yours and Jake's. Or at least, I will be. If you stick to the main roads.\"\n\nHe stepped into the light. I took in his face, his eyes, the shape of him. He looked like Jake…but with my hair, my build, my nose. I began to back away slowly, further into the dark reaches of the alley. It seemed safer now, farther away from the madman claiming to be my future son. His eyes widened in fright, and just then, I felt another tap on my back. I turned around, slowly this time.\n\n\"And who might you be?\" I asked with disaffected calm. I was too much in shock to be scared.\n\nThe person shifted in the darkness. \"I suppose he's already spilled the beans.\" It was a woman's voice. \"I'm your daughter.\"\n\nFucking perfect. \"You're working together, then? I suppose you're here to warn me about the dangers of the alley, too.\" Impatience rose in my voice. I was finished with this nonsense. I just wanted to go home.\n\n\"No to the first. We are working directly against each other. If one of us is brought into existence, the other will disappear, never to be born.\" She paused meaningfully. \"To the second: well, that's a bit complicated. It is dangerous. You have every reason to fear it. And it will change your life.\" \n\n\"If it's dangerous–if I should fear it, and you do not deny this, why should I go that way? Why should I put myself in danger that you might one day live? And anyway, I don't see how taking this road or that will change what children I have. I'll make it home, one way or the other.\"\n\nThe girl's silence was deafening. \"I-I will make it home, won't I?\" Fear welled up inside me as I tried to choke it down, swallowing hard.\n\nThe man spoke up. \"If you take the main roads, you will be home in 45 minutes, as usual. Your night will go on as planned.\"\n\nThe girl picked up his sentence immediately. \"But if you take the alley, your night will be long. You will finally return to your apartment at dawn, less your purse and money, less most of your clothes, and less the comfortable surety of your old life.\" She hesitated. \"And plus me.\"\n\nI stared back at her, tears welling up in my eyes. When I spoke, it came out a ragged whisper. \"Why would you even tell me that? Who would walk in to that, knowing? You'd send me through hell, just to exist. You're a selfish, worthless bitch! You'd make me give up a happy family, for this?\"\n\nBoth my future children stiffened. \"Oh, what is it now?\"\n\nThe man spoke up, quietly. \"Not so happy,\" he said, barely audible.\n\n\"Wh-What do you mean? I marry Jake, right?\"\n\nThe man nodded solemnly. \"But. He…\" The man paused.\n\n\"Out with it!\" \n\n\"He abuses you. Emotionally, at first. Makes you feel small. Then, he starts beating you. It's terrible. I can't stand to think about it.\" He shuddered. \"I'm sorry. You're life was never meant to be easy.\"\n\n\"But I divorce him eventually, right? I'm not that dumb.\"\n\nAnother pregnant pause. \"No.\" There was a sense of finality in his voice. I turned to the girl.\n\n\"What happens with the rest of my life, if I go this way?\" And get raped, I added silently.\n\n\"You're devastated, of course. Your entire life is changed. You don't talk to anyone at work, and Jake loses interest. Eventually, your boss fires you, to avoid paying maternity leave. I'm born, and you move back in with your mother, working small jobs to pay her back. You talk to someone–a therapist–about what happened, and they suggest you write about it. So you write. And you start working to raise awareness of rape and assault in schools. You do a lot of good for people. And your daughter is always right by your side, always there for you.\"\n\nI thought for a second. \"Hold on,\" I said. \"Couldn't I avoid all of this by just avoiding the situation with Jake?\"\n\n\"As soon as you have made your decision, you will forget us and anything we told you. You will only remember the path you chose.\" The man looked down solemnly.\n\nI sank down to the ground, wracked by sobs. Both my future children came over to console me. I didn't see how I could choose, but I couldn't stay here…\n\nAfter an eternity, I stood up. \"I have decided,\" I said quietly.\n\n\"Who?\" The boy and girl asked concurrently. \n\nI shook my head. \"One of you will find out, I suppose.\" They both nodded.\n\n---\n\nI caught myself staring idly at the lamp-post and blinked twice to clear my head. I stared down the shortcut alley with a misplaced feeling of gravity and sorrow. I shook the feeling off, attributing it to exhaustion, and took a step.", "I was told the first one was Judy. I'd named her after my grandmother. When she walked in to the room -- stumbled, really -- I barely had time to realized how terrible she looked before the smell hit me. Urine, vomit, body odor ... and something else. Something chemical.\n\n\"Are you ... are ... Judy, is that you? What happened?\"\n\nShe slumped into the chair and didn't look at me. She let out a terrible, wracking cough, and I could see she was missing half her teeth. When she finally met my gaze, I was shocked at how yellow her eyes were.\n\n\"Dad ... please ... choose the other one. I can't ... please. Don't choose me.\"\n\nI knelt down and tried to put a hand on her shoulder, tried to give her a hug. She pushed me away with toothpick-thin arms that were covered in sores and track marks.\n\n\"Don't, okay?\"\n\n\"Judy, I --\"\n\n\"It wasn't your fault, Dad. I was just born fucked up. Depression, ADHD, you name it. And then came drugs -- crack, meth ... everything, really. And I got hepatitis. I live on the street. You can't help me. I mean, you tried. It wasn't your fault. You tried, but I was always too messed up and you couldn't save me ... and I'm sorry about you and mom. Your marriage. I caused that, I know.\"\n\n\"It's okay, honey,\" I said. \"It's not your fault. It's okay.\"\n\nShe stood up and walked toward the door. \"Don't. Don't try to save me any more, Dad. You have to understand, I want to die. I'd kill myself, but I can never find the courage to jump off a bridge or throw myself under a bus. My life is a living hell, and I'm too much of a coward to even end it. So just -- I'm begging you please, Dad. I can't end my life, but you can not start it. So choose the other kid. Please. For me.\"\n\n\"I -- you can't --\"\n\n\"Please, Dad.\"\n\nI didn't trust myself to speak. I could barely breathe, and there were hot tears on my cheeks. I nodded once. It was a promise.\n\n\"I love you, Dad. And I'm sorry.\" And the door closed behind her.\n\nThe techs gave me a few minutes to clean up. I took it that a lot of these interviews ended with some raw emotion, and sometimes people needed a break to compose themselves. I sure as hell did.\n\nThen they showed in Alan. A son. He had a broad smile, but something in his eyes made me recoil. Something wrong. Something predatory.\n\n\"Oh hi, Pops,\" he said, grinning. \"You look a bit put out. Your eyes are all red. Been crying? My brother or sister was a bit hard on you?\"\n\n\"Judy. Her name was Judy.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" he said without any sort of inflection. He took a seat casually. \"Was she hot? I always kind of wanted a sister.\"\n\n\"Hot?\" I stammered. \n\n\"Yeah. Was she sexy or what? I'm just curious.\"\n\n\"She'd be your sister!\" I said, revolted.\n\n\"Exactly, Dad. The thing is, everything seems to lose its edge after a while. The first girl was a thrill, even though I just tied her up and fucked her. After that, I started cutting them, too. Just little cuts, you know, but then there was the one that died. Total accident, but I had a raging hard-on for days, let me tell you. And then I realized that girls were just as good cold as they were warm. After that I made sure all of them died.\"\n\n\"What is wrong with you ... ?\" I shouted. \"Is this a joke? A sick joke?\"\n\nHe glared at me. \"You never did understand. With the pets either. But, hey, at least you covered all that up, so the cops never clued on to me. And now I've done twenty-two girls and I don't think they've even found any of the bodies. But even that's starting to get a little stale ... so when you mentioned a sister, I thought maybe that would spice things up, you know? And maybe family would taste different from the others.\"\n\nAnd I stood there, staring in shock and revulsion at my son who was once more smiling at me, and all I could think was, I'm so sorry, Judy. Oh God, I'm so sorry.", "'Mr. Blan, through these doors and you will see our newest invention'\n\n'What does it do?'\n\n'It will show you the future through different possibilities - not only that, it allows you to communicate with these futures at no recourse to how they turn out or how yours will...also any being you communicate with will see you as you are in their time, not as you are now.' \n\n\"Well...'\n\n'Follow me through...ok, I am going to leave you to it, shut the doors and rev-up the two portals - one at a time.'\n\n'Daddy'\n\n'Lindy...you look just like your mom. How are you?'\n\n'I'm great! Brown is great! Why are you looking at me like you haven't seen me in years?\"\n\n\"Sorry, I am just a little tired. Hows - how's Brown? How're classes?\"\n\n\"Hahha Daddy! You know how everything is, Tom is great and I am loving OChem 2! You are being so strange. Why are you crying?\"\n\n.......\n\n\"We are going to boot up the other portal now\"\n\n\"Sniffling thank you\"\n\n\"What are you looking at?\"\n\n\"Lindy? You smoke cigarettes?\"\n\n\"Fuck you, Mom says I don't need to talk to you\"\n\n\"Excuse me young lady\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up you dick. Go fuck another whore\"\n\n\"Excuse me?! What happened\"\n\n\"What? Go back to ignoring us and spending all your time on your career\"\n\n\"Lindy talk to me...I want to make sure I can fix this\"\n\n\"Fix what? Go back to sucking Cleeter Benson's dick.\"\n\n\"Cleeter Benson?\"\n\n\"Your star quarterback...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"On the Broncos...the team you own. Jesus Christ, did you just have a stroke you old fuck.\"\n\n\"I own the Broncos?\"\n\n\"Yes, and you won't give me or mom anything. Fuck you and fuck your divorce lawyer\"\n\n\"I divorced your mom...I own the Broncos?\"\n\n\"Oh my god...shut the fuck up\"\n\n\"Do you remember what specifically...specifically led to me owning the Broncos?\"" ]	8
	[WP] You go back in time only to find that dinosaurs were highly intelligent species and did not go extinct but left the planet and are now intergalactic rulers of the universe.	[ "\"Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...\"\n\nThis was the last word uttered as he entered the myriad of lights and fractal energy discharges spewing forth from the portal, carefully hidden in a very big rock, in a clandestine orbit over Neptune. In the transition, the jumble of words, light and all manners of sensation stretched out into eternity. It was like being briskly aware of a concussion slowly forming in your head, if one can wrap their mind around it. In a futile attempt to describe the passing of time, Commander Sprack tried to convey the pure exhilaration of the whole thing with the words, \"So beautiful!\" Needless to say, his commanding officers could only scratch their heads as the letters 'S' and 'O' were literally lost in the time. There was also a little bit of pee where the space ship had been.\n\nIt was utterly horrific and approximately one second long in relative time and space. For Sprack, the entire, prickly ordeal spanned an agonizing seven hours. His senses were constantly assaulted; vomit turned into constellations and his whimpers summoned forth a barrage of demonic echoes that rattled his mind into insanity. A simple turn of the head warped his vision into a merry-go-round of violent vertigo. \n\nAnd to be quite fair, this was still reasonably more enjoyable than 'fusion duct work custodian' on some bleak military station on the fringes of Human space territory. And rightly so because it was like coming to terms with sixty milligrams of THC.\n\noo...kkkkkkkk.\nooo... oooooooooo.\nOok.\nAre you ok?\nAre you ok?\nAre you ok?\n\nThe message materialized above his console and sounded throughout the speakers aboard the tiny space ship.\n\n\"Off, off now!\" Sprack's voice was ragged, and raising his voice took sheer will power.\n\nThe metal hull went silent. Stars encompassed every inch of the forward view screen, so thoroughly clustered that the cramped pilot bay required no interior lighting. It was so much brighter. Everything seemed so close. Just a stone's throw away. The silence was deafening. And just like that, Sprack was fine again. No aches, no breaks, just as he was before he stepped onto the ship aboard the raised platform.\n\n\"Re-orient to Earth,\" said Sprack. The ship responded with a cheerful hum and the view went from bright to the blazes of Hell. The screen auto-focused and tinted the view. Even the sun burned with increased ferocity, despite the artificial filters.\n\nAnalyzing sun... Current size reflects a one hundred forty-five million year increase in mass, with an error margin of five hundred thousand years. Transition to past, confirmed. We are aligned to Earth. Transition to warp?\n\nSprack's hand hovered over the confirm button, physical buttons being needed to enact major changes to the ship, but an eerie feeling rose up his spine and a cold feeling trickled into the back of his head. The same cluster of stars began to move into his field of view. He switched to sphere view and the cockpit around him became one giant view screen. More stars had gathered to his left and below him. Neptune sat at his feet, full of life and sprawling with massive cities sprawled all over the surface. Shit, what the actual fuck?\n\n\"Ship, confirm estimated time period again!\"\n\nWe are one, four, five million years in the past, all nearby planetary bodies and stars confirming.\n\nThe stars stopped now, forming into a menacing group above and below him. Terror overtook Sprack as he issued his last command to the ship, \"Shields up! How could you not detect those things after transition?!\"\n\nTheir substance is unfamiliar and were ultimately phased out as celestial bodies The ship's chipper disposition was unperturbed by the impossible situation climaxing outside. This drove Sprack into a rage that dwarfed his anxiety.\n\n\"I am so fu-\" There was a bright light, the ship rock backed and forth. Then there was nothing for a while. It was a welcome change of scenery for Sprack, despite descending into nothingness.\n\n***\n\n\"As we were so patiently trying to explain before you interrupted us with your fire-crackers, the annexation of the Sol system will proceed with or without you. There are no compromises but you may continue to rule yourselves. Ten percent of your resources are required to continue your autonomy.\"\n\nNo alien stood so tall and impossible in all of humanity as one Doki Balfus, whose features had scarcely changed since his ancestors last walked on Earth. Humanity instantly recognized his heritage and a majority of them promptly proceeded to involuntarily evacuate their bladders and bowels. To be perfectly reasonable, a Tyrannosaurus Rex explaining the finer details of war and peace treaties was not something to be taken lightly.\n\n\"You sent us Sprack, in the time of our golden age. We had questioned him relentlessly until we found out who would replace us in this backwards swamp. And to my dismay, I could not fathom why you would disturb our resting places and power your stupid little machines when there is a perfectly good Sun to do just that. I bet you can't even figure out how to harness a black hole inside your ships. Also, your tacos are quite an amazing feat of engineering. We will also require fifty percent of them.\" King Doki descended slightly towards the pyramid of autonomous cameras before him, each beaming back an image of shiny, razor-sharp teeth to all the human colonies, upon a terrified humankind.\n\n\"And don't think about scheming with the other nearby species. The last time someone made that mistake, they became short a planet. Just look at your Kuiper belt.\" With that, the king stomped off his ship's media platform and warped away into the black.\n\n", "What was most interesting about the discovery of dinosauric intelligence was the manner of their escape from Earth. The creatures lacked the dexterity to operate or build machinery or even handle anything more than the simplest of tools, but despite this they still effected an exit from the planet before being blown to pieces. The manner of the escape reminded the time travellers of how certain primitive human societies, to the continual wonder of modern civilisation, were able to track the motions of the stars and the planets thousands of years in advance.\n\nThe dinosaurs were able to so precisely track the movement of the deadly comet that they were able to set up a giant earthen fulcrum upon which laid a platform made of entwined roots and plant matter. The dimensions were so calculated that once the comet hit, shockwaves travelled down the expanse of this organic lever, and, owing to some fruitful positioning, dinosaurs flew of the end of it like dust shooting off the end of a whip crack.\n\nIf what I just described is scarcely believable, what happened next discards all reason and enters the realm of pure fantasy. The dinosaurs, knowing that their only chance to survive the meteor impact was to escape in this way, nonetheless had no contingency plan for being blown off into space. So it was fortunate that an alien convoy was passing by at this time, on holiday in a foreign solar system, controlled by a species that reproduced by transferring DNA through a semi-permeable membrane. \n\nLike trying to spraypaint a bumblebee in flight, the swarm of disparate dinosaurs inevitably clashed with the fleet belonging this already highly dexterous and highly advanced race of spacefarers. Most clattered onto the sides of the ships with a visual that resembled shooting a bag of oranges out of a cannon at a brick wall. However, some of the fine cellular mist puffed up from this collision found its way into the ships and onto the skin of the alien beings themselves. \n\nThus began the great miscegenation. The hot blooded and adventurous qualities of the aliens would mix with the physical prowess and unemotional logic of the dinosaurs. The great intergalactic empire had been spawned." ]	2
	[WP] In the future, poor people sell segments of their lifespan to the rich on the black market.	[ "Long slender legs crossed, the tip of a black stiletto pump becoming visible under the hem of her flowing silk gown. Bright red nails curled around the stem of a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. She lifted it to her lips and drank deeply, before turning her eyes to the screen before her to look over the list of prospective donators. \n\nAfter looking disinterestedly through several possible candidates, a name caught her eye. Reaching a hand into her dress, she pulled out a creased and torn piece of paper. She unfolded it carefully and examined its contents, looking occasionally to the donator profile displayed on her screen. After a few moments she smiled.\n\nShe folded the paper once again and tucked it back, making sure it was imperceptible under her clothing. Satisfied, she called for her assistant. When the awkward, hurrying thing came in she gave the younger woman her instructions and left. A new donator had been found, and it was time to prepare.\n\n~~~~~\n\n26 years ago a young girl waited on the stoop of her apartment building. As she waited another old man emerged from the door behind her to hurry away, pulling up his coat to hide his face as he climbed into the back of his car waiting to speed him away towards uptown.\n\nThe little girl stood up. She knew that now it was safe to come back inside, where her mother would be waiting with a reassuring smile. They would go out to shop for groceries, as they always did after the old men visited. If she was good she would get a lollipop, a bright red one: her favorite kind. With that in mind the little girl smiled and skipped her way up the stairs. She opened the door and went in, but her mother wasn't waiting in the kitchen like she usually did. The little girl tentatively went to the bedroom. She knew that when her mother wasn't in the kitchen, it meant they had taken too much. \n\nHer mother lay on the bed, still naked and breathing heavily. Every time one of the men came she was less of herself. Every time her smile dimmed, and her hair greyed, and her limbs found it harder to move. But this time she was worse than usual. Now her eyes were glassy as they stared at the ceiling, and her skin was pale as it glistened from her sweat under the dim lights. \n\nThe mother's breath rasped out \"Little one, my little one, where. . . where are you? Oh. . . oh god.\"\n\nThe little girl went up to her mother's side. Fear flashed in her eyes as she took her mother's thin hand in her own. \"Here, I'm here mom.\" \n\n\"He. . . he took too much again. Too much. This time- this time I might no- not. . .\" she gasped \"not make. . . Listen. Listen little one. My book, by the. . . Shelf. The shelf. Take it. It has names. . . numbers, when I'm gone you must get what I've saved for you. It will hel- help. Help you.\"\n\nThe girl shook her head. \"There's still time. I'll call an ambulance. Just wait a moment, Mom, you'll be alright.\" But her voice trembled and she didn't know if what she said was true.\n\n\n\nSome time later two EMTs bashed open a door to a dingy downtown apartment, and followed the sound of sobbing they had heard from the hallway. After exchanging a resigned look about the grimness of the situation one of the men tugged the body off of the decayed mattress and onto the stretcher. The other called CPS as he watched the child. She grabbed a book off the bedside table and read a few pages, flipping past what looked like phone numbers, bank account information, and addresses before settling on reading a page of names. After a moment she ripped it out and folded it, tucking it into her dress. \n\n~~~~~\n\nAlmost three decades later the woman strolled into her lavish bedroom and went over to her desk. Taking a pen from one of its drawers she again retrieved her paper from her bodice and laid it out on the table in front of her. With an almost sinister gleam in her eyes she dragged the tip of her pen across the paper's surface, leaving a line of bright red ink, her favorite color, across the last name on her list. \n\nShe had found him, and she was going to take too much. \n", "\"So first, tell me your name.\"\n\n My name is Felicia Rodrigo.\n\n \"Now please, tell me Felisha-\"\n\n It's Feh-Lee-see-ah.\n\n \"My bad. Now please Felicia, tell me what you work as.\"\n\n I used to be a nurse, over at Hope Springs Hospital... Have you ever been there? I hear that they've torn it down soon after I left. Something about a drug bust.\n\n \"Interesting,\" the reporter wrote this down on his journal. \"Were you involved in it?\" His eyes were attentive.\n\nOf course not! If I was, I wouldn't have had to do the things I've done. \n\n\"What are one of those things in particular, Felicia?\" This reporter knew what I've done, I can tell by the tone of his voice. \n\nI sold a portion of my life. Write that in your journal.He did\n\n\"And why?\" he asked.\n\nFor my son. He looked up to me when I worked in the hospital. He often visited with his dad and everyone around the office knew him. \"Hey Michael,\" they'd say. Then he would respond \"Hi Doctor.\" For some reason he thought everyone there was a doctor, even if we explained levels of profession. \n\n\"Does your son want to be a doctor?\" He questioned.\n\nYes, he does. Before he said goodbye his dad died. We both spent all our savings trying to get him buried in the local graveyard. Then some kin from out of state wanted him buried in his hometown. We told them: \"Wherever we are is his home.\" but they didn't agree. Eventually things got tense, and we had to hire a lawyer to settle the argument. Unfortunately, we lost and all the lawyer said afterwards was where her money was.\n\n\"So, did you two attend his funeral?\"\n\nWe couldn't. The cost was so much and none of the in-laws welcomed us.\n\n\"Who did you sell part of your life to?\"\n\nGreedy people. I met an old couple in a cafe, next thing I know I'm signing the paper. I don't even remember their names. I just knew that I needed to pay my son's education til he graduated. He still doesn't know people can sell years of their lives for money.\n\n\"Do you think about this at night?\"\n\nSometimes. Only when all I could hear is the clock ticking on the wall. It reminds me of how little I have left. \n\n\"How is Michael? Is he almost a doctor?\"\n\nHe'll soon finish his degree. I'm so proud of him. \n\n\"When you die young, what will your son think? By then he would have been a doctor with some experience. Don't you think he'll find out soon about self-selling and piece it all together?\"\n\nWho cares? By then I'll be dead and my baby will be successful. He has to be.\n\n\"Right. Well, that'll be all Felicia. You'll get your check in the mail for this interview soon.\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] On another average work day you head to your 9-5 job, but as the elevator doors close and begin to plummet down instead of up, the only other occupant begins to address you in a serious yet knowing tone...	[ "I can tell that something is off as soon as the elevator starts moving. I glance at the panel; the button for 43 is glowing like normal, but the elevator is going down.\n\n\"Oh my God,\" I say. I turn toward the woman on my left. She looks completely unfazed. I blush. \n\n\"I thought we were falling,\" I say, trying to explain my exclamation. We're descending, and we're descending rapidly. But we started on the ground floor. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm getting vertigo or motion sickness or something.\n\n\"It's okay,\" says the woman. \"It's always startling the first time.\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" I say, \"I've ridden the elevators here many times. I'm at L&G, been there since 2010. I think I just got some vertigo or something.\"\n\n\"I meant the first time the elevator goes down instead of up. I'm afraid I won't be much help, though. I hate trying to explain this to newbies.\"\n\n\"Hang on,\" I say. \"What's happening?\"\n\n\"You'll see.\"\n\nShe pulls out her Blackberry and starts typing into it. I don't think she's really doing anything, just making it look like she's busy so I won't bother her. But I don't know what I would say, anyway. The elevator stops, and the doors open. The woman steps out without looking at me.\n\n\"Nice meeting you,\" I say. I'm not sure why. It just seems polite I guess.\n\nThe elevator opens out into a hallway. It's not my hallway. She steps off. I'm a little curious, but I have a lot of work to do today. I don't have time to explore or anything. I lean forward and press the \"door close\" button. The doors stay open.\n\n\"It won't leave until you get off,\" the woman calls from down the hall.\n\n\"I have work to do,\" I yell. \n\nShe laughs. \"I'm just letting you know,\" she says. \"Do whatever you want.\"\n\nI try the button again and look at my watch. At this rate, I'll be late. I press the 43 button again, but nothing happens. It's still lit. I press 44. I can walk down a flight of stairs if need be. I press 42. Up one flight would be fine, too. But the elevator doesn't move.\n\n\"How far down are we? Can I take the stairs?\" I call.\n\nShe doesn't answer. Maybe she's gone. I step off the elevator. If worst comes to worst, I can just call the elevator again. I start down the hallway in the direction of the woman's voice.\n\n\"You don't wanna go that way,\" says a man. I turn around.\n\n\"Hello,\" I say.\n\n\"This way for the tutorial.\"\n\n\"Oh, thanks,\" I say. \"I'm Dan.\"\n\n\"Third door on the right,\" he says, pointing. \"Close the door behind you.\"\n\nI walk down to the door.\n\n\"You know,\" I say, \"I really don't have time for this. I've got to get to work.\"\n\nThe man sighs. \"Just go through the door, guy,\" he says.\n\n\"Can you tell me what's in there?\" I ask.\n\n\"I already told you. It's the tutorial. You've never been here before, right? So you need to go to the tutorial.\"\n\nI hesitate.\n\n\"You want me to open the door for you?\" he asks. \"For god's sake, turn the knob and push it open. You've opened a door before, right?\"\n\n\"Okay, okay,\" I say. \"You don't have to be like that about it.\"\n\nI open the door before he can say anything else. Inside is a completely empty room. The walls are a blank gray.\n\n\"There's nothing in there,\" I say to the man.\n\n\"Just go inside,\" he says. \"And close the door behind you.\"\n\nI step into the room and close the door behind me. A circle lights up in the center of the floor. I step onto it. I'm not in the room anymore. At least, I don't think I am. I'm standing in what appears to be a gym. There are weight lifting machines and treadmills.\n\n\"Hi, there,\" says a woman. She smiles and holds out her hand.\n\n\"Hi,\" I say, smiling back. I shake her hand.\n\n\"I'm Melissa,\" she says, \"and I'll be helping you through the tutorial.\"\n\n\"Hi,\" I say. \"I'm Dan. Before we get started, where am I? What is this?\"\n\n\"This is the tutorial. You've been selected.\"\n\n\"For what?\"\n\n\"You'll see.\"\n\nI turn around. The door is gone.\n\n\"I have to get to work,\" I say.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" she says. \"Everyone's nervous when they first get here. You'll see. Your life will be the same, except you'll come here instead of your job up there. Now first, we'll need to get your baseline on these machines, and then we'll get you fitted for your wings. Can you step up on this platform for me?\"\n\n\"Wings?\" I ask.\n\n\"You'll see,\" she says. \"It will all make sense in time.\"\n", "I stepped into the elevator. Covering my yawn with one hand I pressed the button for the fourth floor with the other. Day 247 of my yearlong contract with Boring Cubicle Farm Inc. was going to be the exact same as the 246 previous ones. Solo ride up to my floor, solo walk to my desk, solo lunch break, solo everything until my contract was up, management wasn’t known for encouraging interaction or teamwork.\n\n“Hold the elevator please!”\n\n My trance was broken by a shout and the sound of someone running towards the elevator. I stuck my hand between the sliding doors just barely catching them before they closed. For the first time I had company in my morning commute up four floors as a smartly dressed man stepped into the elevator.\n\n“Thanks”\n\nI nodded in return as I examined this welcome intruder to my morning routine. I had never seen him before but that didn’t mean much. The whole lack of interaction thing meant I would struggle to pick the guy who sits next to me out of a crowd. He was taller than me; I put him at about 6’2’’ with broad shoulders. He stood straight backed in the corner of the elevator looking straight ahead not really acknowledging me or anything else.\n\nThe elevator distracted me from making further observations about the man as it tossed another deviation from the norm my way. Instead of making its way to the fourth floor like I had pressed it started slowly descending downward. I looked around in confusion; did I get in the wrong elevator?\n\n“No.”\n\nI turned back to the man. “What?”\n\n“You are in the right elevator.”\n\n“Did you read my mind?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Then how…?”\n\n“It’s everyone’s first question.”\n\n“Everyone, so there have been others?”\n\n“There will always be others. No matter how much time passes there will always be some constants.”\n\n“So where are we going?”\n\n“Where do you want to go?”\n\nThe question made me pause. Off the top of my head I couldn’t think of an answer. I would love to be anywhere but at my job but in terms of specifics I couldn’t come up with a place. As I thought the elevator continued its smooth descent downwards. I had no clue how far down we had gone but I knew the building didn’t have a basement.\n\n“Can’t make a decision?”\n\n“I don’t know. “\n\n“No dream location, no secluded island to escape to?”\n\n“I’ve never really given it much thought.”\n\n“You should. One can’t really live without hopes and dreams, without goals to reach for.” \n\nThe elevator’s descent began to slow as we neared the destination I hadn’t decided on. The man stepped forward out of the corner and put his hand on my shoulder.\n\n“If you don’t dream you can’t move forward. Don’t be content with boring routines that are the same day after day. Don’t watch your opportunities pass by, reach out and grab them. You probably won’t see them ever again”\n\nWith that the elevator slid to a stop and the doors opened onto the lobby of Boring Cubicle Farm Inc. The man stepped out without another word, turned a corner and disappeared from my sight. As I stood watching him go the elevator doors closed leaving alone again in the elevator. On instinct I reached out to press the number four but then I paused. The man’s parting words ran through my head and I pressed the open door button. The doors opened and I didn’t look back.\n\n\n\n\n^I'm ^not ^good ^at ^formatting ^so ^feel ^free ^to ^give ^advice" ]	2
	[WP] Assassination has become a legitimate method of political succession, and therefore the PRIMARY method. Rulers are required to periodically put themselves at risk of assassination.	[ "The senators' palms sweat as the gleam of the spotlights beat down upon his furrowed brow.\n\n\"How long I gotta do this?\" the aging kentucky senator asked as he licked his lips, pondering as to the nature of the upcoming event.\n\n\"Only for an hour or so, sir.\" said the dead-eyed assistant, her glasses blocking the senator from seeing where exactly she was looking as she sifted between papers attached to a clipboard.\n\n\"Only an hour.\" the senator repeated.\n\nThe empty hall was not where the event would take place. It was only a practice meeting, the actual event would take place outside in an ampitheatre about three miles down the road. Very open. Very... insecure.\n\n\"I, uh, don't like to do this but, uh, ya gotta do what'cha need to.\" assured the senator, fishing for reasons to do what he was about to do.\n\n\"Uh huh.\" replied the assistant.\n\nThe senator wiped sweat from his brow. He licked his lips. They were chapped. He could feel the sweat pool in his armpit underneath the expensive cloths he wrapped himself in.\n\n\"I uh...\" The senator drawled on, searching for something to talk about to cut the tension. He gripped his collar and loosened it, letting out a nervous chuckle and sucking on his teeth. Maybe the job is worth it, the senator thought.\n\n\"Would you like to practice?\" asked the assistant.\n\n\"Nah,\" replied the senator shaking \"I'm... I'm fine.\" \n\n\"We're ready to go, senator.\" said the assistant in a bored tone. A squad of goons in black suits whisked the scared old man out of the empty theatre, the sweat flying from his forehead.\n\nFrom there it was a transaction of senator to location, senator to location. Eventually, however all the same, he popped up at that ampitheatre three miles away from the original location.\n\n\"Senator's ago.\" said one goon to another.\n\n\"Senator's ago\" the phrase repeated through walkie talkies.\n\nThe only other thing that could be heard is the chatter of a crowd, the rumble of engines passing, the wind lazily drifting along a summer day. The clamor of impatience.\n\nBorn to the light like a child birthed to the world, the senator was pushed out onto the stage past the curtain. The momentum of his being thrust onto the stage silenced the crowd. The aging kentucky senator squinted his eyes while bumbling forward towards a podium set up with a microphone meant for his words. The senator licked his lips. They were dry. He shuffled towards the podium.\n\nThe crowd was silent. Expectant, yet not for his words. The senator was now at the podium. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he began to peer wider. He tapped the microphone, making it reverberate throughout the amphitheatre toward the sky and eventually nothing. He licked his lips, opened his mouth, and began to speak.\n\n\"L-Ladies and gentlemen,\" he began \"we are all Americans, are we not? And I, as an A-American, I have tried my utmost to provide f-for you all that I had promised in my campaign.\"\n\nThe crowd broke into chatter.\n\n\"N-Now I do realize I couldn't provide the income reform bi--\" replied the senator, cut off by the sound of a gunshot. It had hit him in the shoulder, and the aging kentucky senator could feel his collar shattered. He stayed in character. He licked his lips. They were cracked.\n\n\"I -- I am the best that could have been appoi--!\" cut off by another gunshot. The crowd did not move. The first shooter had shot, then sit down. The second remained standing. His pistol proudly held, defiant of the senator, whose jugular vein was cut making him stumble backwards, flailing at his own imbalance. The smoke rose from the gun. The senator bled as the crowd watched. He licked his lips. They were dry. The crowd chattered. The shooter stood.\n\nThe goons from earlier walked into the crowd, grabbed the second shooter, and brought him to the podium. The shooter wore black leather shoes. His black leather shoes stepped in the aging kentucky senators blood with an almost visceral silence. The crowd did not speak. The goons made no sound. The assistant stared unblinkingly behind the curtain.\n\nThe shooter tapped the microphone. He spoke of his father, and the father before him. He spoke of family and friends and god and belief. He spoke of how in his twenty - year term he would do all he could to make good on all he was promising. He spoke with courage and vigor and honor. Much the same way that the former aging kentucky senator spoke. The shooters lips were moist. The shooter licked his lips.\n\n", "Sasha looked on as her mom waved at the crowd. This job was crazy why the hell would she want it? The crowd cheered as the first female governor of Miloi gave her final words. A glint caught Sasha's eye. She turned to the left to give it her full attention. There was definitely somebody on the top roof of the building. \n\n\"Hey what's there?\" She asked Dolph the burly guard standing outside the car. With their sunglasses on you could never tell which way the guards were looking. \n\n\"Oh it's nothing, nothing at all.\" He replied dismissively. \n\n\"Could you check it out?\" Sasha asked nervously. \n\n\"It's probably just a broken glass or something\" he replied gruffly. Sasha sunk back in her chair. That tone of voice was only used when the guards were done listening to you. Her mother rumbled on \"Now let me tell you...\" \n\nA shot ripped through the field cutting the speech shot. It caught Governor Lewin square on her chest and she fell back from the impact. A second shot rang, it hit the podium, shattering it into hundreds of splinters and cracked the sidewalk behind the podium as it landed. \n\nDolph sprang into action, He ran to the governess's side and used his back as a shield. He commandeered the other men to get into the building from his mouth piece. \n\nSasha's heart beat in her ears as she watched her mother lying on the ground. For a moment all the animosity between them was erased as she watched her lying lifeless on the ground. \n\n\"MOM!!\" She shouted out as she ran out of the car. She ran to her mother where the security men had congregated. As she was about to reach Lewin stirred. Biting her lip in agony the governess got back up holding her bodyguards for support. \n\nShe dusted herself of and walked back to the podium to raucous cheering and applause from the attendees of the rally. \n\n\"Somebody doesn't want me to say what I want to say but I won't be intimidated!\" She started. The crowd cheered on. Dolph smiled, the governess looked a bit shaken but she could still stir the crowd. Lewin went on to give a heart-melting speech and affirm her dedication to the citizens as she mentioned more pledges for her re-election campaign. She left the podium on top just as she had got in. Her final image was a peace sign she gave before the tinted windows rolled up. \n\nSasha wanted to ride with her mother but they hadn't allowed her. She cursed at her own weakness she could never do what her mother had just done. Today was meant to be the day but no, she would tell her next week that she got a job with the city's bomb disposal unit. she just wasn't as strong she needed as safer career. \n\nIn the front car Lewin and Dolph passionately kissed. They only had 30 minutes before she got home to her husband. \n\n\"So do you think they bought it?\" She asked holding his face. \n\n\"Oh it was a thing of beauty especially the way you told Sasha to come running out of the car.\" Dolph replied. \n\n\"I never told her,\" said Andrea. \n\nDolph pulled back eyes wide in shock. He covered his mouth with his hand. \"So she thought...so she thinks, this whole time...\" \n\n\"I'll tell her soon don't look at me like that\" she said coyly as she kissed him. \"Besides that's my fifth attempt and like you said that come back was unforgettable. I am four ahead of the next guy. this election I'm sailing in on pity votes and courage.\" \n \n**\n\nMore stories of mine can be read at /r/Pagefighter\n \n ", "The primary. This nation's way of choosing its leader. A barbaric practice, written as a constitutional amendment by Strom Thurmond. It was originally intended for the \"strong white man\" to prevent any black leader from ever winning a political seat. Wonder how he feels now, while he rolls in his grave. \n\nPresident Obama had won his primary through sabatoging Hillary \"Annie Oakley\" Clinton's gun at an NRA convention. He filled her gun with an explosive, that would explode when shot. He got John Edwards to kill himself out of shame when reports came out that he had screwed around when his wife had cancer. Let me tell you, the political commentators did not expect that.\n\nI was just running for the 9th Congressional District of Texas. A small, sleepy part of Fort Bend County, nobody really wanted to be a congressman. I wanted to do it because my father was a congressman. For that district.\n\nYou see, I could never survive in a major primary. So it was best to send a clear and strong message that I was a leader that these people could trust. \n\nI had to kill my father.\n\nI went to his office. He didn't know I was running, yet. I had filled out SEC documents yesterday, and my team hadn't quite gotten my campaign off the ground. On my hip was the same Glock I had conceal carried every day of my life.\n\nI walked right in. His secretary gave me a cookie and a coffee. If she knew what* I was really here for, I thought, she'd have served me poison.\n\n\"Hey James! Come to visit your old dad on leave from your job, huh? Let me tell you about this new bill I'm working on, but the Republicans...\"\n\nI looked at him go on and on about a railroad spending bill. About how the Republicans were trying to stop it, but he was just going to keep on going.\n\n\"No, Dad, I'm running for congress.\"\n\n\"Oh. Let me tell you where you should run. The 18th down in Houston. Let me tell you, Sheila Jackson Lee is a real bitch. Hell, you could get her own staff to kill her, she's consistently one of the worst bosses. Or maybe the 29th, Gene Green is so old that he's just gonna kill himself with a heart-\"\n\n\"No, dad, the 9th.\"\n\n\"The 9th? My district? My own son?\"\n\nPlease don't look at me like that, I thought in my mind. I knew primary rules. Surely, his staff would hate me, but they couldn't campaign for him. They couldn't intervene in a fight. My father was 68. He never had faced a primary before, any challenger from his district.\n\nI knew where he kept his primary gun, too. He kept it in a little portable access safe on the wall. The one I was in front of.\n\nBut then I started to feel woozy. My father and I both fell to the ground, for some reason. \n\nHis secretary, Anne Richards, came in with a pistol in hand. She took mine from my hand, and took my father's from his safe.\n\nFuck.\n\nTurns out that a radical third-party candidate can win after all.\n\nIf you liked this, please read more of my stories on r/TheTexasKid and subscribe!", "The day after the assassination of the president, by a group of highly trained revolutionaries—otherwise known to them as friends and colleagues—Elizabeth, a short, briskly brunette walked up and down along the dinner table, tracing her fingers along the furrowed patterns of the backs of the chairs. \n\n“Perhaps, at least one guard, dear.” Elizabeth came around a chair and sat down to her husband’s right, placing her hand on his knee. “They can’t expect you to let down all your defenses, not after a day.”\n\n“Those are the rules, and we were both in agreement just yesterday. Besides, what is one guard going to do? Might as well have none if you’re offering me one.”\n\n“So, no guards, no vests, and a convertible, that’s what I’m supposed to be content with?” she asked without expecting an answer in return, and tapped her long nails against the glossy table. \n\n“You don’t expect them to kill me just yet, do you?” he asked, smirking slightly. He wanted the spoils of victory just today. \n\nThe worries about security, civil war, or anything that required thinking for that matter could wait, but she worried that he’d grow too accustomed to being comfortable. They’d been planning for years, living in dark caves and those that were lucky in trailer parks, communicating with friends and family as if they were strangers to save them from association. Careful all the way through and now . . . he suddenly stopped caring. Not that he did much other than follow her around like a lost puppy anyway.\n\n“That is exactly what I’d expect,” she said, turning her eyes to him and twisting her lips down in disbelief. “In fact, if we weren’t a part of the revolution, our first plan would be to take power right after so that we could attack when they least expected. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, Michael. It doesn’t suit you.”\n\nHe leaned back in the chair, resting his arm on the table, and pushed back the shoulder nearest to her. “So what would you have me do? Walk out there in an armored suit?”\n\n“No, dearest,” she said, coating the word with venom, “I expect you to not ruin this for all of us within the very first day.”\n\nMichael stood, stretching his arms above his head, yawned without closing his mouth and looked down at her with a gleeful look of boredom. “Take a warm bath, Elizabeth. The stench from the cave is filling up the room.”\n\nShe closed her eyes, taking a deep breath through the irritation, and heard his chair scrape the floor as he pushed it back. \n\n“I’ll be by the pool,” she heard him say before the door opened and closed. \n\nShe shook her head, eyes focused on the door and stared at it absently until it opened again, and Liam walked in with a grave expression, and a set of deep lines wrinkling his forehead.\n\n“Commander in Cheat resting his eyes?” he asked with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.\n\n“Should have given leadership to me.” Elizabeth stood, and waved him forward upon seeing the stack of papers bending down from his hand.\n\nHe raised a grey brow, and slapped the papers down on the table. “Give your husband a good kick in the nuts and a sock in the mount—or a woman and some whiskey so that he can keep out of our business. And there’s your leadership.”\n\nElizabeth bit her lip, and looked up at him through her lashes. “I’ll do you one better, Liam. Order one of the snipers to scare him a little. He’s by the pool. His ear or something, nothing important—just don’t let that cross eyed one near him.”\n\n“I trust that man more to shoot straight than I do your husband pissing into a toilet bowl.”\n\n“I know you trust him, Liam, but do so with a fucking sling-shot, and not a gun and that idiot’s head.”\n\n****\n\nMore of my prompts are available here, /r/AlinaKG. Thanks for reading!", "The primaries started with seventeen candidates. That's right. Seventeen of us risked our lives to run for the highest office, pledging to kill or be killed for the service of the nation. They were good men, killing them hasn't made me change my opinion. Now only one remains- the one who I must kill to get a shot at assassinating the incumbent.\n\nHe goes by the nick El Rato. You'd think he was some Mexican Sicario who'd wear a Sombrero and mutter \"Si\" with his pickled breath as he'd take out rival candidates with a machete. No. He was a smug, shotgun-wielding, baptist preacher from Texas. Texas- that accursed state that deserves every damn illegal it harbors on its soil. I'll build the wall right around it. It will be my first presidential act. Right after I'm done swearing my oath, standing over the carcasses of my opponents, my palms bloody with my incumbent's blood and raised in solemn affirmation of the words I recite-I will make America great again.\n\nBut to make America great I must deal with El Rato first. And he's getting difficult to handle. He has the support of the establishment. They've been sending their minions after me for a while, trying to get me to croak and get the Rat credit for it. But I'm not easy to put down. They didn't give me my nickname for no reason. \n\nThe centipede is often mistaken to be a creature of the dark, wriggling in the shadows, scavenging on the dead and decayed. But only those who've seen its wrath know that it can be a pretty swift runner, a nimble navigator. No matter how well hidden, how well protected its prey is, it navigates the terrain with his antenna, stalking it silently before it crawls up point blank and digs its fangs injecting the most potent of venoms.\n\nThe Rat likes women- who doesn't? But the Rat is stupid. In the midst of national media attention he doesn't have the brains to put his extramarital affairs on the back burner. He thinks this seedy little hotel gives him the cover of obscurity to carry out his little diddle session. Little does he know that I bought this place and hired myself among the housekeeping staff- hardworking Americans, these people, I'll make sure they get their due when I'm president. \n\nSo I walk up and knock at his door, shouting \"Room Service\" ignoring the do-not-disturb sign hung on the lock-set knob. \n\n\"Can't you read the fucking sign?\" He bellows, between thrusts, in his Texan drawl. He is already panting three minutes in- low energy Rato, low energy. \n\n\"Room Service!\" I shout again and move aside.\n\nA loud grunt. The bed shifts. A gun gets cocked and shots ring out puncturing more holes into the door than stars speckle our great flag.\n\n\"Read the fucking sign,\" he says with smug satisfaction.\n\nThen there's a fumble and a squeaky cry- the last pangs of a dying rat. The handle turns with a click and the door opens, I enter.\n\nHe is writhing on the ground, grasping at his neck through the thick folds of his double chin.\n\nI smile and look up at the girl he was banging, the syringe on her fingers still glinting. \n\n\"You really do look like him,\" I shift my glance from the Rat to her and back again.\n\n\"We look nothing alike, but whatever. Have you made the transfer?\"\n\nI'd first seen her on Maury. She was like a carbon copy of the Rat. I knew at that moment how to get him. No lure worked better for a narcissist than the opportunity to fuck a copy of himself.\n\n\"I did already. Now work hard and let's make America great again.\"\n\n\"Pfft, I don't know about that. I'm just an average gal who lives in a trailer park.\"\n\n\"First of all, never call yourself average. You're not smart, nor beautiful- but definitely not average. You deserve better than average...\" \n\nI stop as she begins to smile. This isn't a televised speech, I have no reason to lie to the fat trailer trash. Scratch that, let's just keep it trailer trash. We all have weight problems.\n\n\"So this settles your nomination, then. Can't supersede the centipede, I guess.\"\n\nI give her a hug and walk out. There's no time to gloat- the other faction would be finishing up with their selection process as well. It would probably be that witch- Pillory the Intern Slayer. A tough battle is coming, I must prepare well.\n\n---\n\nThe street echoed with a woman's blood-curdling screams. The building that once housed Soldman PACs was enveloped in flames.\n\nPeople waving placards circled it. Occupy!* They chanted. \n\nAn old man stands apart from the crowd, hunched , solemnly watching the spectacle from the center.\n\n\"Do you feel the Bern, now?\" He asks the woman in front of him, transcripts of her secret speeches spread around her like a pier, burning.\n\nShe didn't answer. The flames twisted and lapped over her convulsing body, until it charred her down into elemental carbon. Her screams were gone and there was only the hymn of the 99% in the smothering silence of wall street.\n\nA woman came up to him with a towel as he dusted his hands.\n\n\"Wow, that was unexpected! Congratulations on getting the nomination.\" \n\n\"Well, its over now. So I take on the Rat next?\" He wiped the sweat from his forehead.\n\n\"El Rato is dead.\"\n\n\"What? How could the establishment allow it?\"\n\n\"The establishment was against you as well, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I'm me. You can't spurn the Bern.\"\n\n\"I guess the centipede was better than we expected. \"\n\nHe smiled. \"Do you know how to lure a centipede out from its hole?\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"You Bern a fire and smoke it out. Then you trample it with your foot.\"\n\nThe woman smiled. She never followed politics, but this time it was different. With the Bern and Centipede at each other's throats, it was going to get real fun this time. \n\n---\n\n/r/CaffeinatedWriter" ]	5
	[WP] “We should have done something.”	[ "\"We should have done something!\" clamored Mollie. \"There was nothing we could do. They were all dead and if we didn't get out of there when we did, we would be dead too - now come on, we have to hurry\" he responded in an almost convincing calm voice. \n\nAs they ran at breakneck speeds through the dimly lit forest, each muddy step was met with a strong petrichor released from the storm. He didn't register the smell as his body was on autopilot and his mind was still miles back at the farmhouse. Neither made an effort to protect themselves from branches as they galloped into the night. All of that blood - their friends being murdered and they watched helplessly. Mollie's words thundered through his head over and over \"We should have done something!\". Something yes - but what?\n\nEventually their mind's will to keep going could no longer drive their bodies further. Mollie collapsed in a heap - legs shaking from exertion and chests heaving in a tenuous battle to get air. His mind still reeling, he laid down next to her in a protective fashion but then fell into a nightmarish sleep reliving what happened over and over.\n\nFor the briefest of moments when daylight snuck up on them and the birds began to sing, Boxer had forgotten that the previous night's butchery was real and not just a nightmare.\n\nHe decided then and there to go see Old Major. There is no way they continue allowing Mr. Jones to get away with not protecting them. What is it that Old Major keeps saying after all - all animals are equal\n\n", "\"We should have done something.\"\n\nHer voice shook. She was rocking back and forth on her bed, knees tucked into her chest. The white of her pajamas combined with the moonlight coming in through the window made her look porcelain, fragile and too easy to break. Her eyes were shut tightly, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. I reached out my hand to touch her shoulder; she flinched.\n\n\"Mandy, it's okay.\" She exploded.\n\n\"No! It's not!\" She jumped up out of bed and began to pace the room, clapping her hands together nervously. She'd done that since we were kids; it'd been endearing then, but now it was just a sign of the strain that she never could quite forget. I stood up and took her by the shoulders. My hands covered them completely, and I could feel the delicate bone structure underneath.\n\n\"You need to sit down and go to sleep. You'll wake the neighbors.\" I walked her over to the bed and sat her down. She stared at me blankly for a moment before leaning forward and snuggling in closer to my chest. If I closed my eyes, I almost felt like we were in high school again, at the homecoming game where she had fallen asleep in my arms after the first quarter. I could almost forget the past, what had happened, where we were.\n\nAlmost.\n\nShe began to hum a song. I listened for a minute before adding harmonies. We hummed like that for awhile, until I felt her body relax. I picked her up, slipped her back under the covers, then crawled under them myself. Her quiet warmth was reassuring; yes, my Amanda was still there, underneath all the pain and suffering. I got up after a bit, making sure not to disturb her, and padded quietly across the room. I opened and closed the door softly, letting the hallway light caress her face as I wished I could before I had to shut it out completely.\n\nThe night nurse glanced up at me, bored. She was reading a magazine and chewing gum, slouched over at her station like a bored kid at a cocktail party. She gestured with her head back to Amanda's room.\n\n\"She okay?\"\n\n\"She'll be okay now.\"\n\n\"Good. I mean... I'm glad. She need some rest. Stressful day tomorrow.\"\n\nI only nodded. Every day was a stressful day for Amanda now, but tomorrow would be hell on earth.\n\nI pulled into the driveway as the clock in my pickup changed to 1:03 AM. I walked to the house, stuck my key in the lock, and walked in. I went to the kitchen to fix myself a sandwich, passing our family portraits in the falls. Amanda, Corey, Grace and I smiled from our backyard, playing on the swingset the other dads in the neighbor hood had helped me build. After making the sandwich and putting some coffee on, I pulled out the book. The cover was dark, with ornate faux gold gilding. I opened it. Grace and Corey smiled at me from the pages, and I smiled back. I turned the pages, staring at them playing, laughing, smiling.\n\nI found the article on the last page.\n\nHome Invasion Gone Wrong Rocks Small, Northpark Neighborhood: intruder killed was suspect in five other similar murders.\n\nI closed my eyes.\n\nI heard Amanda scream my name. \n\nChris!\n\nThen, a gunshot. She screamed again. Another. By that time I was running towards Corey's room, my gun in my hand. All I could think was \"No. No no no no no.\" I heard Amanda screaming.\n\n\"You BASTARD. I'LL KILL YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD. YOU'LL NEVER HURT ANYONE AGAIN-\" I heard a third shot. Amanda stopped screaming.\nA man stepped out into the hallway. He was small, rodent-like, dressing black. I aimed and fired, and he went down.\n\nI rushed into Corey's room, and found Amanda sobbing over his crib. Grace was staring at me blankly from her mother's arms, the light gone from her eyes. Amanda's forehead was bleeding profusely, but she wouldn't let Corey go.\n\n\"MY BABY, OH GOD, MY BABIES. NO. PLEASE DON'T BE TRUE. COREY, HONEY, GRACEY, COME BACK TO ME...\"\n\nI came back to reality as the buzzer dinged from the coffee maker. My face was wet. I closed the book and hugged it to my chest.\n\nMandy..., I thought as my head started to throb, we did do something... we did.", "Dear Ryan, \n\nYour sisters laugh still rings in my ears. The amount of lies we've had to tell. The countless news stories, papers, magazines, it feels never ending. All the people you tied into these lies you've built. I haven't had a single thought that wasn't about Giana for the past three years. I feel trapped. Not just for the fact that you and I are the reason for her suicide, but that you could have stopped her. \n\nWhy? \n\nI now realize in letting her kill herself, and not stopping you, I am indirectly responsible for her death. In the end, we are in this together. \n\nYou know it has been months since we've last spoken. I've had time to think, really think. About me. About you. About what happened. \n\nRyan, We should have done something. You know we should have. \n\nNow I am going to do something. Something I should have done a long time ago. \n\n- Gordon\n\n-------------------\n\nI put down the pen. \nThe letter slid into the envelope smoothly, a perfect fit. \nThe envelope was pushed under the door.\nWith all the people in it, I proceeded to set the building on fire. \n" ]	3
	[WP] You aspired to be the first man on the moon in the cold war era. Upon achieving this dream, you witness the Earth undergo nuclear fallout and you are unable to return.	[ "(written on my phone please forgive typos)\n\nIt wasn't quite as bright as I'd expected. The war, I mean. It looked like the sun reflecting off the ocean, but in dozens of places. On the dark side of earth, it was spectacular, but where the sun shone it was only visible for a few seconds. \n\nIt wasn't really a surprise. We'd listened to the frantic radio messages. Apparently Nixon had decided to play chicken with the Soviets, only they hadn't blinked. They'd shot down half our B-52s before someone could order them recalled, and things got worse from there. It had all happened pretty fast. \n\nHouston dropped off the air. We were supposed to have backup communications but we never heard from them. Guess the Russkies' intel was better than we gave them credit for.\n\nCollins said he'd pick us up and do the return journey if we wanted to. It might've worked. The ships were already out and they wouldn't have been targets, but we'd have nowhere to go even if we got picked up after splashdown. All the big cities were gone, along with all our families. \n\nWe talked to Collins some more, and decided we'd stay down below. He said he was going to try to land the CSM with the fuel he no longer needed to return to earth. It was crazy, but as he put it, who gives a shit now? It's die fast or die slow, and at least this way he'd get to land on the moon himself. So saying, he vanished over the too-close horizon and fate unknown.\n\nThere were always rumors that all astronauts were given a magic suicide pill, \"just in case\". Well, we weren't. We did have good painkillers, though, and we were both of us high as kites. It was easier than thinking. The plan was to watch for more fireworks, admire the landscape until it got dull, then crack our suits.\n\nThe ship caught us by surprise, though. Through a haze of opiates, at first I thought Collins had somehow succeeded at his insane plan and was about to land on us. Addled as we were, it didn't take long to realize that the gunmetal gray, saucer-shaped behemoth gliding down beside us wasn't the CSM, or any other craft I'd ever seen. \n\nWe didn't spot the swastikas until it was almost on top of us.", "\"Houston, we have contact. We did it. We're on the moon\" I can barely contain my excitement enough to rattle off that communication. I've been waiting for this day since I was a kid. I'm on the moon. The first human to ever set foot here. \"Roger Eagle, congratulations. Please commence your scientific responsibi-\" as Houston is cut off, I can't help but notice a slight orange glimmer on the earth, directly where NASA has Houston headquartered. Before I can communicate the anomaly, the entire nation is lit up with similar dots of various sizes and shades of yellow. As the earth rotates, I can barely make out similar dots within the USSR's borders. This is when the realization of what is happening hits. Like a freight train. Nuclear war. This is also when my second revelation hits. I'm not going home, ever. I choke back my emotions for some imaginary audience, and make my way back into the landing craft. I begin to take inventory of my supplies. Sustenance to last me a few days... A repair kit... And what matters most: O2... A few hours worth. The tears begin to well up in my eyes as I am faced with the horrendous reality of my fate. Suffocation. Not a very nice way to go. I sift through the rations, looking for a special item. A specially made bottle of the good stuff. Meant for when I get back to earth's orbit, but now it seems I'll never get there. Upon finding the bottle, i attach it to my suit's nutrition line and step out of the craft, bottle in hand. I catch a glance of a stool sized rock. Perfect. I stumble over to my final resting place, face doomed earth, and begin to drown the last minutes of my life in alcohol...\n\n", "Had to rush this a little, but here's what I ended up with :)\n\n\n\n\nIt’s beautiful out here. A bit lonely though. Strange to think how every one of those twinkly little lights was a giant nuclear furnace, pumping out huge amounts of energy, but from here they were little glittering grains of diamond dust on a black velvet background. So pretty. So many stars.\n\nNow that the thrusters had powered down I feel something I’ve not felt in quite a few days – gravity – settle over me and my stomach turn a little. There’s always been that adjustment period between free fall and gravity that makes me a little unsettled, this time it seems accentuated by the weak fraction of a g here, like I was sitting in a weird middle ground between weightlessness and being under gravity and my body wasn’t really ready for it. I’d include it in my report, try and make things a little easier for the next guy. Still, being first has its advantages – in this case I’d go down in history as the first man on the moon.\n\nThrough the thick lunar module window I spend a few moments surveying the landscape. It’s so bright out there, surprisingly so in fact. The pocked and scarred ground stretching out in front of me was ostensibly in shadow for now, but the Earth-shine was more than sufficient to see clearly. Grey and black is the palate, and I can almost convince myself that it is some desert or beach in an odd hew instead of being further from earth than any other person in existence.\n\nI had a few minutes with not much to do. We trained so exhaustively back home that I was now on autopilot, hands punching codes into the computers interface and replying to the techs back home with readings from dials while my mind wanders.\n\nI was 8 years old when it first occurred to me to be a spaceman. I still use the term in the privacy of my own head simply for the nostalgia value. It helps me to remember afternoons playing pretend with friends, or listening to radio shows before bedtime, reading books and comics. We used to be exhilarated by the idea of being cowboys, or sea captains, or brave soldiers, but that all changed when those crazy Russians put Yuri into orbit in what was a glorified metal coffin and somehow brought him back alive. I remember sitting with my Dad, listening to the news and how amazed he was, shocked really, at the achievement. I knew straight away that the biggest and most important thing I could do would be to go to space. Almost overnight it seems I’d traded in my six shooters for ray guns, my captain’s hat for a space suit, and in my dreams of war I was now fighting green skinned Martians in place of Russians.\n\nI’d queried everyone about what I’d have to do to go to space and gotten an answer. Be a pilot. Not just any pilot though, I’d have to be the best. \n\nFrom then on I focused in school. I had to. I wasn’t the smartest kid there, but I did well already and with my newfound focus I excelled. \n\nNine years later I graduated from high school and joined the air force. Then the real work began. \n\nThe Russians programme seemed to be stagnating, orbital flights aplenty and a couple of probes, but no real progress closer to the moon no matter what they told everyone. Big announcements about new fuel pumps or thrust vectoring techniques, things they were retro-engineering from our last generation of craft but they would invariably claim put them ahead of the rest of the world.\n\nThe Americans sent pod after pod full of their youngest and brightest to die in the cold due to one fault or another, sometimes there’d be an explosion or implosion, sometimes the radio simply went silent, always there was a flashy and sombre televised funeral featuring flags draped dramatically over empty caskets and a fiery public statement expressing their recommitment to getting it right next time. \n\nPersonally I know for a fact that the only thing that’s kept us in the race at all is the sheer number of scientists, engineers and technicians we managed to repatriate after the war. Germans mostly, thankfully they weren’t much like the propaganda that’d been spread around during the war. \nFrom what I hear it was winning their families over that did it. A lot of them actively escaped custody to come to my country.\nI shudder to think what may have happened to my dream should those wonderful minds have ended up with another country.\n\nAs it was they Ruskis and the Yanks were having talks right now – primarily disarmament but space exploration and almost certainly our programme and tech advantages were on the table. My best guess was that their respective agencies wanted to do a joint programme to try and catch up. Maybe that’d cause us problems one day, but with political tensions between the two countries at an all-time high – ‘five minutes to midnight on the nuclear clock! Blah blah blah’ – it wasn’t likely to happen for years to come.\n\nI had fought hard to be the best in our programme, and I very nearly was. After 5 years flying test missions, sub-orbital and finally orbital flights I’d finally put myself in position to be considered for the right hand seat on our lunar mission.\n\nIn the end I missed out on being the mission pilot and commander - and consequently getting the right to be the first man to step foot on the moon - by a hair, and was only included when a drunk driver plowed his car into back of Commander Davidsen’s car causing him whiplash and punching my ticket for me. Best $3000 I’ve ever spent. I’m glad he wasn’t seriously hurt or killed but unfortunately he’d been between me and the Moon so he’d had to go.\nAnd now here I am. 370,000 kilometres from home (roughly anyway), enjoying the peace and quiet. In fact it occurs to me that it’s a little too quiet. The radio has been silent for a minute now. I quickly run through the last few minutes in my mind, we had been working through the checklist, boring boring fuel measurements, longitude, latitude, velocity, a long and boring laundry list of things to d before I stepped outside, when I’d been asked to hold.\n\nI wish they’d just get on with it. I have history to make after all.\n\n“Taniwha 3, this is Masterton, read?” I almost jumped at the sudden voice from the radio. After moments of silence it seemed so very loud.\n\n“Roger Masterton, Taniwha reads loud and clear, ready to pick up where we left off?”\n“Negative Taniwha, sorry to say I’ve….” His voice broke badly, sounded like he was choking on something and I was instantly annoyed. This was historic stuff, and this idiot on the ground was chewing gum or eating a sandwich! “Sorry to say I’ve got bad news.”\n\nAn ice cold dagger dropped down my spine and into my gut. I knew in an instant they were going to scrub. I’d come so close and they were about to order me to launch the module before I even got to set foot on the ground!\n\n“It’s bad Taniwha… They’ve launched… the damn Russians actually launched….” His voice trailed off into sobs and I was left to wonder what was going on. He wasn’t choking at all – he was crying!\n\nBut so what if the Russians had launched something? Even if it were a lander it’d take a couple of days to get here, and we’d have known for sure if they’d launched before we did. Let ‘em come second, I’ll wave as we go past each other and be back on the ground before he can set foot outside.\n\n“Masterton I don’t understand, why does it-“\n“All of them Taniwha – they launched the bloody lot! Americans are responding, a handful headed our way, those spiteful bastards. We’re counting 3 from the Russians and 2 from the Yanks, only 5 but more than enough.” He was almost screaming now, frantic and close to hysteria, “You’re it Taniwha, you’re gonna be all that’s left of us. ETA 2 minutes.”\n\nThe penny dropped. That ball of ice in my stomach grew to a boulder. Missiles. They’d launch the bloody missiles!\nI craned my neck trying to get a glimpse of Earth from the seat but couldn’t manage it. \n\n“Masterton, confirm Ruskis and Yanks have both launched nukes?!?” The stress in my voice was there for all to hear. But no response came. \n\n10 second of nothing crawled past. Then another excruciating 10. After restraining myself for another 10 I concluded that there wouldn’t be a response and began to unbuckle my restraints. I wasn’t about to let them stop me from fulfilling what I’d come here to do.\n\nI checked my suit gauges, my extravehicular support package showed good for an hour or so on the surface. Next I vented the cabin. I was feeling numb as I watched the little gauge drift its way down to zero. It didn’t matter that it’d never go back up. I couldn’t even hear the alarms anymore, just my own breathing and the rustle of the fabric of my suit around my neck. Without even knowing it I’d opened the hatch and was looking down the ladder toward the ground. There it was. A lifetime’s work had led to this, and now no-one would ever see it.\n\nMy foot crunched onto the surface, and I felt it give way slightly, like fresh powder just laid on a mountaintop.\nI was here. I’d forgotten whatever words they’d given me to say, but none of that mattered anymore. I bunny hopped to the top of a small rise and took my seat for the show.\n\nIt’s funny, they look more like bright camera flashes than anything else. I can’t see the clouds yet but I’m sure I will before I run out of air. The terminator is rolling around into view and I get to see those little nuclear fires as though they were hanging ever so briefly with the distant stars I had been enraptured with earlier. It reminds me how small we are, or were. Our petty concerns and competitions mean nothing to those stars. Long after the little clouds down there settle and the last of our achievements has disappeared into the dust they’ll twinkle on. \n\nI watch the little flash bulbs going off and cry, and laugh, and after a few too short minutes I sleep.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Humans have unknowingly always had access to some superpower, but the steps to access this ability are extremely complicated and seemingly arbitrary. Now, for the first time, someone has managed to do so.	[ "He could lift entire islands. He made North Korea back down from nuking the world single handedly. We all called him the 15th. It was a strange name, but when somebody can swallow a nuke and survive you call him whatever he wants. So far none of his enemies could find a weakness. They tried super viruses, mech suits, even magic. None of it worked, he was unstoppable. Some thought he was a God, others a devil. And yet he protected us, selflessly.\n\nEventually his identity was revealed. He made a mistake, destroyed a drug deal the US was busy infiltrating. And the government in retaliation released his secret identity. He was just an average Joe Schmoe, no superpowers before he became a hero, no evidence of one. He even had a hospital bill from when he was shot, so he clearly developed them later.\n\nSo a press conference was held. How exactly did he get his powers? He didn't reveal to them, but he did to me. I was someone he saved, I had a good heart. I asked him this question, and for some reason he didn't refuse me or fly away.\n\n\"So 15th, how did you get your powers?\" I asked. \"Well this may sound strange, but it all started with a club I joined. They asked me to write the club's name on my forehead, something nobody had ever done before. I did, I was a bit drunk at the time, but I did it anyway. Looked ridiculous, but I got superpowers\". \"What club is it?\" \"I'll show you.\" He grabs a sharpie, and starts writing on my forehead. He hands me a mirror. \"Congratulations, on joining the PEN15 club\".", "At last, it had begun. This would be the day of the Awakening. As the High Priest began the incantation for the ritual, he could barely contain his excitement.\n\n\"Place your hand within the circle, and begin to feel The Power within you.\"\n\nFor all of recorded history, Mankind had been certain that within each person lay extraordinary hidden abilities. If, they reasoned, they could just discover how to unlock that potential, they would be as gods. The Order was founded to seek out a way by which this might be done. Now, the day had finally come to fulfill The Order's grand purpose.\n\n\"Remove your hand from the circle. You have known but a taste of The Power; soon you will know it in full. Remember this moment, brothers. It is your last as the frail creatures you are now.\"\n\nThe Order had spent thousands of years trying to piece together the answer to this mystery, with little success. Much had been tried in the pursuit. Gigantic monuments were built to harness the energies of the Cosmos, medical experiments were performed in the hopes of discovering how to unlock these supposed abilities, and untold masses had perished in pursuit of what had come to be known only as The Power.\n\n\"Return your hand now to the circle, and shake away your weaknesses. Discard them and leave them in the circle, to be replaced within your form by immeasurable strength. The Power is within you, as it always was. It is rising, but it has not yet been fully awakened.\"\n\nNot so long ago, The Order thought they had found the secret. A ritual had been performed then, one not very different from this one. When at the end of that ritual the ring of men fell to the ash covered ground, they were dismayed to discover that The Power had not been awoken within them.\n\nThis time, however, the High Priest knew they had it right. Even if he had not known before, he could feel The Power growing within him as he prepared for the final step in the ritual.\n\n\"Now turn in a full circle while performing the ancient motion! Once the circle is complete, we will all be wielders of The Power!\"\n\nThe Order, several hundred strong, all did as they had been instructed. Each among them started to emit a glow, which steadily grew as the turn progressed. By the time they came around to face the center once again, the glow had grown into a blinding light, which immediately disappeared.\n \n \n\nThe Power that had been hidden within Mankind for so long was now unleashed. As the High Priest began to levitate above his place in the circle, he addressed the room full of new gods before him. The ritual of Hok Ipoki was complete.\n \n\"That, brothers... is what it is all about!\"", "The Forever Knight smashed through the ceiling of the inner sanctum. This was the lair of Lord Ulblaxian, the most heinous villain in existence.\n\nThe room was large and ornately decorated. A giant screen on one side looked out over the surface of the asteroid in which the lair was embedded. On the screen was a large device, thrumming with power.\n\nThe Forever Knight hadn't seen it while infiltrating the lair. This had only just deployed. It must be the Dread Ray, aimed at Earth. Lord Ulblaxian was holding the world hostage, and the time limit had almost run out.\n\nThe Forever Knight, the world's first true superhero, had hidden aboard one of the many transport shuttles that carried Ulblaxian's minions between Earth and the asteroid lair. Once inside the lair, she had fought through Ulblaxian's forces, making her way towards the inner sanctum.\n\nA large chair stood in the middle of the room, facing the screen. This whole room was a theatre for one: Lord Ulblaxian. The chair slowly turned around, revealing Lord Ulblaxian's smirking visage.\n\n\"At last, we meet, Forever Fool\" spat Ulblaxian. \"I see you managed to get past my prototype robotic sentinel\".\n\nThe Forever Knight nodded, her exhaustion apparent. That had been quite an ordeal, but thankfully there had been only one.\n\n\"I lied! That was no prototype; I have been mass producing them for quite some time now. GUARDS!\" Ulblaxian yelled the last word out. Immediately, doors opened in the side of the sanctum and robot sentinels poured in, their blasters trained on the Forever Knight. She looked around her and exhaled, her hopes falling. She had come so close to stopping the madman...\n\nHowever, the robots remained with their weapons trained on her, not firing. \"Not just yet\" said Ulblaxian, coyly. \"I want you to see Earth fall. I want you to watch my Dread Ray turn the planet into mulch. Only then, will I finally let you die.\" Ulblaxian cackled. \"Behold! The testament to my monumental genius!\" he crowed, gesturing wildly around him. \"Unlike you, I was not born with superpowers. I worked for my achievements. While you fly around putting out fires and saving kittens from trees, I slaved away in my laboratories, researching, building, planning...\".\n\nThe Forever Knight couldn't take any more of it. \"Yes, yes, I know all about you\" she interrupted. She lifted off her helmet. \"I used to work for you, remember? Until you went and turned on us all.\".\n\n\"Sasha?!\" sputtered Ulblaxian in confusion. \"You're the Forever Knight? But how? You never had... you... you had superpowers? While you worked for Ulblaxatech?\"\n\n\"No, I didn't. Well... no, I take that back. We all have superpowers. Every single human. I just discovered how to access mine. And I decided to use them for good, especially after you fired everyone and dissolved the company.\".\n\n\"What do you mean: everyone has superpowers?\" demanded Lord Ulblaxian, bewildered.\n\n\"I mean that I was not born special, contrary to the garbage you were spouting just a moment ago. Hell, you were born more special than I was, as royalty and with a silver spoon in your mouth. More like a whole set of silver cutlery. And everything you did with your wealth was just to help yourself and your selfish, evil schemes. I was the one who actually worked for my powers.\".\n\n\"I don't understand... You will tell me how you got superpowers, and you will tell me now!\" screamed Ulblaxian. \"Or I will fire the Dread Ray at Earth!\".\n\nThe Forever Knight chuckled. \"You were going to fire it anyways. What I do or do not say won't change that.\". Lord Ulblaxian looked like he was going to pop a vein - he was catatonic with indignation. \"But you know what? I'll tell you anyways.\".\n\nUlblaxian's expression transformed from vein-popping indignation to maniacal glee. \"Yes, yes! Tell me!\"\n\n\"Dungeons and Dragons\" said the Forever Knight plainly.\n\nThe silence that followed was deafening.\n\nAfter a moment, Ulblaxian responded: \"What.\".\n\nThe Forever Knight nodded her head and repeated herself. \"Dungeons and Dragons. I poured so much of my life into games that I discovered how to be DM in real life. That's how I got my powers.\".\n\nUlbaxian's face contorted in fury. \"Is this your idea of a joke?! How dare you...!\".\n\nThe Forever Knight raised her hands in a defensive gesture. \"Hold on, I can actually show you how it works.\" she said. Ulblaxian fell silent. The Forever Knight continued: \"I will now demonstrate by destroying all your robot sentinels at once\". She turned around, composed herself, and spoke clearly: \"Summon Bigger Fish!\".\n\nInstantly, a gargantuan fish blipped into existence above the robot sentinels and crashed down onto them, crushing them all into scrap.\n\nThe Forever Knight turned back to Ulblaxian. His face had gone pale, his terror clearly apparent. The Forever Knight smiled. \"You see, what I found is every one of us can be the DM of this universe, if you figure out how. You just need to know how to make the rules work for you. Unfortunately, nobody else has discovered how to do this. I am probably the first, and hopefully the last. See, I didn't want to share it, lest someone like you got their hands on the secrets. Just imagine what chaos you would have unleashed with such power.\" She shook her head. \"No, this is best kept secret. Unfortunately, DMing can be quite obvious. That's why I needed this...\" she gestured to her armour. \"Hidden inside, and fighting enemies with my fists, I can obscure the fact that I can DM my way out of most situations with ease. Of course, now with the Dread Ray almost about to fire, it's time to discard the theatrics and go for something more straightforward. I mean, how long until the Dread Ray fires? A few minutes?\".\n\n\"Y-yes...\" stammered Ulbaxian, incredulous. Then his face contorted back into it's familiar tantrum-mode. \"But you will NEVER stop the Dread Ray from firing! The controls aren't in this room. They are spread across my base. I have hundreds of backups and redundancies, to ensure that someone like you will NEVER get to them in time!\" he screeched.\n\n\"Huh. So what if I destroy the whole asteroid?\" asked the Forever Knight, matter-of-factly. \"You think that would work?\".\n\nUlblaxian's expression turned to bewilderment again. \"You can do that?\" he muttered.\n\nThe Forever Knight shrugged. \"Summon Biggest Fish. Greater Teleport: my apartment.\". She vanished into thin air, leaving Ulblaxian alone in his inner sanctum. He glanced at the screen behind him. A shadow zipped over the surface of the asteroid, covering everything in darkness, and the room around him began to tremble.", "Click, click\n\nThe sound of computer mice filled the air. Two boys sat in the dark room, crunching on chips, browsing through the internet with no goal in particular.\n\n\"Hey Jared, you know Tails?\"\n\n\"The one from Sonic?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that one.\"\n\n\"What about him?\"\n\n\"This website says you can unlock him in Super Smash Bros.\"\n\nJared frowned, skeptical.\n\n\"Really? I thought all the secret characters have been discovered.\"\n\nThe other boy, Francis, shook his head enthusiastically. \"I guess not. Look, there's even a picture!\"\n\nJared got up and moved to get a better view of the monitor. \"Huh. I guess that does look real. How do you get him?\"\n\n\"Hmmm... It looks pretty tough. You have to beat adventure mode a lot of times. And we'll need three people. And at least 10 hours.\"\n\nJared groaned. \"That's crazy! What if it's just a well done fake? I don't wanna waste 10 hours on this.\"\n\n\"Come on, it'll be so cool once we get him! Imagine how impressed everyone at school will be! He can fly! I bet he's crazy good.\"\n\nJared sighed. \"I guess it would be pretty cool...\"\n\nFrancis got up and punched Jared's shoulder. \"Let's go find somebody else. It's summer, we're not doing anything else anyway.\"\n\n---\n\nThe room had been stocked full of chips and pop. The blinds prevented the midday sun from invading the small space. The dark room now contained an extra boy along with a tv, gamecube, and four controllers. \n\nFrancis stood up and clapped his hands together. \"Alright! Let's get this started. The guide says we have to beat adventure mode on hard with every single character, in alphabetic order, without losing. Then, we have to hold down the A button on a controller in the fourth port while we play a 3 person Mewtwo free for all. After that, we play through all the event matches with Mario first and then with Kirby. Then, we have to play a round robin with our best characters. Once it's over, Tails will show up, and whoever won the round robin gets to play against him. If they win, we unlock Tails. If they lose, we have to do it all over again.\"\n\nFrancis turned to the new boy. \"Billy, are you ready to play the first 10 characters in adventure mode?\"\n\n\"Sure am! I'll be done with them really quick, I promise!\" The boy beamed, making no attempt to hide his excitement.\n\n\"Awesome! And Jared, I want you playing the next 8. I'll finish the last 8.\"\n\nJared nodded. Billy was probably the best out of all of them, so it made sense that he played two more characters than the others. \"I got it.\"\n\nFrancis beamed. \"Alright. We're all set up. Let's go!\"\n\n---\n\n\"Awww, come on, I was totally out of range!\" An exasperated Francis cried out as he lost his last Roy stock to Billy's Fox.\n\nBilly laughed, delighted with his win. \"If you were out of range, then how did I hit you?\"\n\nFrancis grinned. \"Shut up. I'll get you next time. With Tails! But first you and Jared have to play, since you both beat me. Whoever wins has to beat Tails, don't forget that!\"\n\nJared quickly selected Falco and got ready to play the last game. \"To be honest, I'm not sure who will win.\" Said Francis. \"You two are pretty evenly matched most of the time.\"\n\n\"I don't know if I want to win, because then I have to deal with you two getting mad if I lose to Tails.\" said a worried Jared.\n\n\"Aww, come on. You know whoever wins will have an easy time beating him.\" Billy smiled easily, picking up his controller again and getting ready for the game. He nodded to Jared, and Jared nodded back. They started the game.\n\nIt was over quickly, with Billy losing two of his stocks by accidentally running off stage. Jared was able to clean up the last two with two of his own remaining.\n\n\"Shoot. Can't complain about that win though, I guess. As long as we unlock Tails!\" Billy grinned as he fistbumped Jared.\n\nJared smiled back. \"As long as the steps were actually legit.\" He looked around at the other two boys. \"When I hit start, he's either going to show up, or nothing will happen and we just wasted 10 hours. You guys ready?\"\n\nThey nodded, clearly as nervous as Jared. \"Alright, I'm gonna do it. Three, two, one... Start!\" Jared closed his eyes as he pressed his thumb down upon the circular button in the center of the controller. He waited for the sound signalling that a challenger was approaching. And waited.\n\nAnd waited.\n\nFrancis let out a large sigh. \"Awww, man. It really was just a fake. Sorry guys... I was the one who believed the post online...\"\n\nJared opened his eyes. The game was back on the character select screen. Nothing about a new challenger, no Tails. \n\n\"Hey, it's fine. We had a good time with it anyway, unlocking Tails would have just been extra cool. Right, Jared?\" Billy was still smiling as he looked over at his friend.\n\nJared grinned. \"For sure! It was awesome just playing smash all day with you two. But, uh, can we go get some real food now that we're done? I'm super hungry.\"\n\nFrancis seemed cheered up by his friends' words. \"I'm down. I could use a pizza right about now.\"\n\n\"Me too! Actually, that's weird. It kinda smells like pizza. Jared, did your mom make food?\" Billy sniffed the air as he spoke.\n\nJared frowned. \"Probably not, I didn't ask her to. But it definitely does smell like pizza. Maybe it's outside?\"\n\nFrancis laughed. \"No, it's right here! Where did this come from?\" He pointed towards the small table on which one of the two computers in the room resided. Sure enough, as Jared turned to look he saw two pizza boxes right on top of the desk.\n\n\"Whoa. That's seriously weird. Who put those there? I didn't hear anybody come in.\" Billy laughed a little nervously.\n\n\"Well, whoever it was, I wish they would have brought some water as well. I'm pretty sick of sugary drinks right now.\" Francis spoke with a wistful tone.\n\nThey all saw it that time. All three boys were looking in the direction of the pizza when it happened. First, there were two pizza boxes on the table. Then, there was a jug of water resting right next to them.\n\n\"What!...\" Jared started to speak but stopped, shocked at what had just happened.\n\n\"Did you guys see that?!?!?!?\" Francis yelled, looking around to the other two boys and then back to the table, wide-eyed.\n\n\"That water wasn't there! What even just happened?!?\" Billy was equally shocked. \"That was real right? The water wasn't there and then it was? I'm not seeing things am I?\"\n\nJared nodded vigorously. \"I saw it too! What was that? First the pizza out of nowhere and then the water? Can anybody explain that?\"\n\n\"I can!\"\n\nJared looked at Billy who shook his head, who looked at Francis who shook his head and looked at Jared who also shook his head.\n\n\"I'm really creeped out right now, seriously. Who said that?\" Asked Francis with a slightly shaky voice.\n\n\"Me, over here!\" Jared turned towards where the sound was coming from - directly behind him. His jaw dropped.\n\nDisplayed on the tv that they had been playing Smash Bros on was a pixelated face. Nothing special, just your average low pixel count smiley face. But it was talking.\n\n\"Frankly, I didn't think I'd ever be able to tell anybody these things. This is the first time I've been able to talk to humans, so you'd better listen up.\" The tv spoke with a somewhat annoying high pitched tone. But it spoke with what seemed like intelligence.\n\nJared looked around at his friends. Their expressions showed that they were equally as stupefied as he was.\n\nThe tv made a sound as if it was clearing its throat. \"Okay, essentially what's happened is you three have found water in the world's hottest desert. Won the lottery without ever buying a ticket. Hit a hole-in-one on a golf course spanning the entire universe. I'm not going to go into the technical details, but basically the sequence of actions that you carried out in that game triggered a clause in a very nuanced legal document which I will not describe to you right now that contractually obligates me, an incredibly powerful super-being who shall remain nameless, to award you, three young lucky boys, the power to do whatever you want. That pizza and water was desired by you, and so it came into being.\"\n\nThe boys silently stared.\n\nThe tv sighed, the two pixels representing its eyes rolling around on the screen. \"You can do literally whatever you want. You have absolute power over this universe. You want pizza? You got pizza. You want money. You can have money. You want power? Well, you already have it. No strings attached, I promise. Try it out. For now, I'm busy. If you need me, I'm obligated to answer your questions due to the aforementioned legal document. Please don't ask about the legal document. Have fun with your power, I'm leaving.\" \n\nThe face disappeared suddenly. The Smash Bros character select screen was once again displayed. The game's music permeated the silence.\n\nJared spoke first. \"I, uh, really wanted Tails, you know.\"\n\nAnd there Tails was. On the character select screen, as if nothing had changed, was displayed a yellow furry animal, right next to all the other characters.\n\nBilly laughed. Francis joined him. Jared smiled and laughed, too.\n\nFrancis beamed. \"We can do anything! I want 100 dollars!\" he reached into his pocket, and sure enough, there was the money.\n\n\"This is awesome!\" Yelled Billy. \"I wish I had one of those super high tech toy helicopters!\" The remote appeared in his hands and as he turned the dial the sound of a helicopter's blades could be heard turning outside.\n\n\"I don't even care that that didn't make any sense!\" Jared was smiling wider than he ever had before. \"We're basically superheroes! This is the best day ever!\"", "We humans have always dreamt of having superpowers. Flight, telekinesis, telepathy, strength, speed, among many imagined. It remained a dream though, as everyone concluded it was impossible to gain powers and that these would remain in our imaginations forever.\n\nUntil one person changed our thinking.\n\nHe flew, he moved things with his mind, and he walked through walls. He had super hearing, super speed, a body extremely flexible, and just recently, super hearing.\nEveryone, from office workers to pedestrians watched in awe as he flew across the metropolis and darted alongside the bullet trains.\n\nHe was human, yes we have confirmed his identity. He has his legal documents, even those issued during his youth, and he has only risen to fame a few days ago. Naturally, everybody wondered how this happened. Press conferences, interviews over TV and radio, he was all over the news.\n\nWe got to know about him and his life in just two days. It turns out he is a bachelor, a software developer, used to work a nine to five, reads the newspaper, has his coffee black, and stands up to wipe.\nHe seems pretty normal, you know like, one of us. He even wanted us to just call him Joe, nothing else.\n\nEventually Joe spilled his secret over national television. He stated a few friends to help him fight crime would be nice. The method he revealed was nothing we expected. Not radioactive exposure, not a chemical, not intense training everyday, but rather an online survey?\n\nYeah, online surveys. You know, those surveys you have to take before a download which take ages to complete and never gets you through anyway. Exactly those Joe had said. Joe has painstakingly gone through one online survey per week and now has 23 known superpowers.\n\nNo one believed him, people even shunned him and scolded him for being selfish and making a fool out of everyone. But I gave it a shot. I trusted Joe's word and after about two hours of answering and staring at my browser's loading icon, I disappeared. My hands were gone, my whole body was! It took me a second to process this, then I grinned. But you wouldn't see that.\n___\n" ]	5
	[WP] The grim reaper quit. Now, every soul on Earth that dies cannot pass on, all 15 million per year.	[ "They thought the government did it. The government thought terrorists did it. The terrorists didn't care who did it as long as infidels were affected, until it affected them. Little did they know the Grim Reaper was on some uncharted island, working on his tan. \n\nIt was the zombie apocalypse out of nowhere. The undead didn't try to eat you; they weren't infectious at all! They merely became a public nuisance, and a mess in general. Laws were passed to place zombies in quarantine. It was eventually decided that, to minor protests by mostly PETA members and people who believed the undead still had rights, the zombies were herded into abandoned strip mines. When these filled up, they were covered and more strip mining ensued. It was a lucrative time for the mining industry. Except in Arizona. They reasoned the Grand Canyon was a cheaper alternative. \n\nThe undead rotted, turned to worm eaten pulp, then dust. Their souls remained, haunting the very earth. They permeated the underground rivers, the tectonic plates, the very core. They came up, ectoplasmic memories of lives, in the germs of seeds and their shoots. They became arboreal giants, their leafy canopies sheltering what little was left of humanity. Their fruits hung fat with the memory of good and evil. \n\nApparently this zombie plague was all it took for humanity to put some serious consideration in birth control. The population count shrank rapidly. Nobody wanted babies. The number of humans left was so small, it was a no brainer to collectively sterilize. The human race was doomed, they reasoned. In this group, the last of homo sapiens on a world that was reclaiming itself with the ghosts of memory, there were two babies left intact. The last children of Earth, they were called. Nobody could bring themselves to neuter them. One day a storm came, full of sound and fury, then there were only two. \n\nFeeling slightly guilty for shirking his responsibility, the Grim Reaper returned to business. When he surveyed the situation, he would be heard, if there was anyone around to hear him, to mutter to himself, \"If I knew this was all it took, I'd have retired a long time ago!\" Despite this, the Grim Reaper was a responsible being, when he wasn't being overworked for millenia. He looked over the last children of earth as they roamed the eden their planet had become. ", "Jesus christ, I am bored. It's been two years since I saw that note after I died. God fucking damn. This piece shit lied through his teeth and now all of us are stuck in the world's blandest waiting room, called Purgatory I think, which probably isn't on Earth, but you get the expression. That note. \"brb just gonna grab my coffee\". So many things about that just doesn't make sense, like the fact that skeletons can't drink because the coffee would go right through them. He thinks we were going to believe it, he must think we are all stupid. Then again, I have met a lot of stupid people here, I really have. It's surprising.\n\nAnyway, let me give you a quick explanation as to the situation. Good ol' Grimmy the Grim Reaper decided that this job wasn't right for him and that he would prefer going into comedy. Honestly this entire shtick he is pulling me through right now would go great on his résumé. So this means, all of us mortal goons can't pass through into the other life. We've been stuck here for ages, and when I mean we, I mean billions of us, and when I mean ages, I mean aaaaaages. I know all of this information, due to his wife, kind of taking over. She really doesn't do much, but she managed to tell everyone and everything the big fucking mess that we were in. Also she can't transport us to the other life so, you guessed it, we are stuck here.\n\nThe only reason why I am speaking to you now, is because I am going crazy. I don't know what anything is anymore, plus I don't feel like anymore two way chit chat. We could at least have a tv or a pen and paper, but I don't really know that much about this place, and there have been many theories about this place. Some people speculate that this is some kind of crazy social experiment, and other believe that this is a test from the G.O.D himself. Personally I am just going to believe the voice of Mrs Death, but hearing a second opinion makes this place way more bearable, even if they do get a little bit annoying. \n\nWell whatever, guess I'll just sit here, slowly going out of my mind, hoping that something will change.\n\n", "THAT'S IT! I'M DONE! The great skeletal being known as Death rose from his throne, throwing his massive scythe to the ground with a clatter.\n\n\n\"But...but sir Death! You CAN'T just quit! We NEED you, who else is going to ferry the souls to the next world?\" The quivering little spirit barely came up to Death's femur, but he tugged on his black robes insistently. \"Please sir! We can't get by without you!\"\n\n\nDeath batted him away with the back of his hand. TOO BAD. IT HAS BEEN OVER FOUR THOUSAND YEARS SINCE I MADE MY REQUEST. FOUR THOUSAND YEARS! IT IS ABOUT TIME I GOT WHAT I DESERVED! \n\n\nWith four massive strides, he made his way across the inky-black floor and pushed open the arched gateway that led to the world of mortals. Sunlight spilled into the room, but it never seemed to find a surface on which to shine. \n\n\n\"Sir Death! WAIT!\" The tiny spirit called. But it was too late. Death was gone, perhaps for good. \n\n\n\"I am SO screwed.\" \n\n\n**\n\n\nSally never even saw the bus coming. One moment, she was just walking between classes like any other day, and the next - excruciating blackness. When she came to, she was greeted with perhaps the strangest sight she had ever known. \n\n\nWhere...where am I?* She wondered. Is this the school yard? Around her swam buildings, in the same place that they had been before, but they were oddly...different. They were twisted, like a scene out of a nightmare. Where one had been made of brick, now it seemed to be made of bone and muscle. Spires reached toward the sky like insect stingers, doors were nothing more than hollow opening covered by bony panels. And perhaps worst of all, all manner of monster seemed to be milling around the courtyard. \n\n\nShe wanted to scream. Really, she did. But something stopped her. It was like she had no air in her lungs, like she had no voice at all. In fact, she didn't seem to be able to make any sound at all. \n\n\n\"Excuse me, miss.\" Came a little voice from her elbow. \"Um, don't be alarmed...but you have died! Please, follow me!\" \n\n\nSally whirled around. Standing right next to her was a little fellow, barely up to her waist in height. He wore a black robe, seemingly made from stitched together handkerchiefs that didn't quite match, and carried a scythe that was clearly more of a sickle. All in all, he was really quite cute...which helped to derail some of the sheer panic that coursed through Sally's veins. \n\n\nI'm...dead? She thought. But...I was just a freshman! I had so much to live for! \n\n\n\n\"I'm afraid so miss! Don't worry, just follow me and everything will be fine!\" 'Death' grabbed the corner of her shirt and tried to pull her along with a silvery-white hand, to no avail. \n\n\nWait, can you read my mind? And...aren't you a little short to be The Grim Reaper? \n\n\n\"Yes miss, well, really I am a bit of a stand-in! He is...busy at the moment. But I can help you, I know I can!\" He kept tugging away, but Sally didn't budge. \n\n\nBusy? Busy HOW? \n\n\n\"Um...you know. Death stuff, lots of people to reap...hah..hahaha...\" \n\n\nSally shot him a look, and he knew that she wasn't buying it for a second. \"OK! Ok! He quit! I'm all that's left, now COME ON! We have to get going! I don't have his power, I can't just take you by force and if we don't get you along soon, souls are going to start piling up!\" \n\n\nWait...So, you aren't Death, right? Sally put her hand on her chin in thought\n\n\n\nThe little spirit was clearly exasperated. \"NO! I just said that!\" \n\n\nWell, how do you know I was supposed to die anyway! She countered. Maybe I was just supposed to be knocked out or something! This could just be a near-death experience!\n\n\n\"No way! We are in Purgatory, the land of the dead! Only the souls of humans who need to go to the next world arrive here! And I don't like what you are implying by 'near-death' experience, until he gets back I AM Death! No 'near' qualifier needed!\" \n\n\nSo what you are saying is...all we need to do is find Death, and he can just...set all of this right! I can go back to living! Everything is just a huge misunderstanding! Sally began walking off towards the buildings with purpose.\n\n\n\"No, wait! Miss, no! The next world is THAT way!\" \n\n\nLater, shorty! I have a skeleton to shake down! \n\n\n**\n\nYou're death? Suuuuure you are. Read more of my work on /r/TimeSyncs!* " ]	3
	[WP] A story told three times from three completely different point of views.	[ "I sit across from him. My palms are sweaty, and I wonder if he knows. I know he can't, but there's this creeping sensation that tells me he knows, and oh God, does he know. Every single little sordid detail. Every motel, every tryst, every meeting, thrust out into the limelight. But maybe I'm reading too much into it. His eyes aren't accusatory, just focused on me. \n\nRight? \n\nRight. \n\nI take a deep breath to steady myself and thank the waitress who just dropped off our pancakes, grabbing my glass and taking a sip of water.\n____________________________________________________________________\n\nI sit across from her. Her lips curve around the glass as she drinks into a beautiful smile, and I can't help but wonder why it had to be me. She could have chosen any other guy, but me?\n\nI smile back. I should have known, really. Her type is all the same. Black widows. They take your heart and then rip it to shreds. I reach across the table to hold her hand. She begins to slide it away before catching herself and leaving it.\n\nHa. \n\nI take a napkin and dab at a water droplet on her lips. Let the waitress see that. Her lips part slightly as she inhales. God, yes, she's beautiful. But she's no longer mine. Yet... she'll always be just that. Mine. And no one else's. She'll never touch another man again. I can fix this whole screwed up situation so simply; I'm surprised no one's tried it before, actually.\n\nI lean back in my chair and wait.\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nI can see them clearly through the window, I inch my shades down my nose and take another glance at the pictures. They're damn nice, but she's with another douche in them. Unfortunate. The pictures do give me a nice profile though, one easily matched to the girl in the window.\n\nI step out of my car, the envelope and ticket safe in my pocket. My last job before I fly off to Dubai to start my new life with Christi and Laura at my side. Thank God the guy paid well; this is my chance at a new life with my wife and baby.\n\nI stroll up to the window, linger for a couple of seconds. She sees me in the corner of my her eye and glances towards me.\n\nI pull the gun out of my pocket and fire.", "I stand up and wipe the grape juice off my face with a tissue. She stares at me angrily, then shouts \"I wonder why you of all people don't have a girlfriend!\" She turns on the spot and walks out of the bar. I look after her, stunned for a moment. Then, in a weak attempt of retaliation, I shout back \"Oh yeah? There's nicer ways to tell someone you don't like them than spilling juice all over them, too!\"\nThe barkeep gives me a half-sympathetic, half-pitiful look and says \"you're going to have to pay for her drink; sorry, we're still a business.\" I angrily bang the money onto the counter - minimum tip for you dude, sorry but I can't afford to pay for women's drinks all the time and not even get anything out of it - finish my drink and leave.\n\n--\n\nOh my god. This asshole sure does deserve special treatment. Splash \"I wonder why you of all people don't have a girlfriend!\" I don't listen to his stupid reply, though the laughter of some of the people I walk by as I rush out of the bar makes me grin a little at the thought of it being some pathetic tit-for-tat response. Oh well, whatever. You'll see where it gets you.\n\n--\n\nShe spills her drink on him. She shouts. She leaves. Tonight's a night. And he, after obviously insulting her, has the cheek to make a stupid remark. I watch him smash some money on the counter and go out, much calmer than her. Why, you swine, don't you even care? I finish my pre-paid drink and leave shortly after him. I know where he's going. I know where she's going if he has the cheek to follow her. I have time.\n\n--\n\nAs I'm headed down the street, I can't fight the feeling I'm not alone. Am I going to be bathed in grape juice by another bitch girl and mugged on the same evening? The short rendez-vous isn't even worth calling it a night. I sigh as I make my way into the quiet suburbs. Every turn, Every shadowy spot I expect a cloaked creature to emerge from the darkness and lunge at me. Still, I'm startled as I actually see a shadow in the light of the street lamp behind me. I don't turn around in time and the last thing I remember is the pain in the back of my head.\n\n--\n\nI watch as he turns his head over and over again. I lurk in the shadows, ready to strike. I know from experience when to attack. The moment comes, and my bat makes quick work of the bastard. No more harassing women for you, sucker. I swiftly turn back into the night and leave him there as is, as a warning for the others.\n\n--\n\nShe made it quick. She always does. I still taste the grape juice in my mouth. That prick wasn't even worth spilling it. But the world just became a better place once more. Content with tonight's work, I turn towards home.\n\n--\n\nEDIT: Grammar/Spelling/small additions" ]	2
	[WP]"How the hell did we end up causing the SECOND apocalypse?"	[ "Pestilence can vary greatly depending on the scale by which it occurs. Localized emergencies are trivial to those far away. However, when these events affect everyone, we no longer consider them a problem solely for their victim. \n\nIt started out as some regional health problems. Mosquitoes in the Caribbean were transmitting a strange disease; it caused short-term birth defects and could affect the nervous system. We had no idea of how serious this situation was until it was long passed containment. For reasons yet unknown, my family never experienced any ill effects of this pandemic.\n\n…\n\nNot much has changed for us here. Five generations have worked this land, but mine was the first to move backwards in technological adoption. It is somewhat funny actually. My grandfather grew up plowing with a team of mules, and eventually graduated up to a worn out Case tractor. His son, my father, sold that Case to purchase a large John Deere. I farmed with that big Deere for half my life. Hard to believe it, but the mules are back.\n\nGrandpa was so stubborn about keeping his old draft-animal implements. Dad and I tried scrapping them a half dozen times; all they did was take up space in the barn. He was a child of the depression though and that experience made him hang on to anything that “might come in handy someday.” Well, they sure have.\n\nThis farm was self-reliant a century ago, just like most others. Fortunately we did not abandon the things that made it that way. We have a diversified selection of crops and livestock, the corncrib is in good shape, food is housed in a dry root cellar, and the woods are a limitless source of fuel. Dad’s reloading bench has seen more work in the last 5 years than the two-dozen prior. Our well can irrigate every acre of ground, an absolute necessity with these new high temperatures.\n\nThat is not to say that life is easy. It is not. Jim, my younger brother, is the only help I have to keep this place going. We work from sunup to sundown every day and it seems to gain us nothing but a chance to do it again tomorrow. That kind of existence is tedious and not exactly pleasant.\n\nJim is not afraid to voice this fact. I have long since learned to live day-by-day, but he seemed to desire something more than this farm. Leaving was never an option for him though; he was far too scared to travel into the unknown by himself. He would talk of places he wished to see, but never acknowledge any risk. Our farm was so remote that no traveler had ever come upon it, assuming there are any travelers out there to begin with.\n\nI’ll never know if this motivated Jim to do it, but there is no other reason that could explain his actions. We were working on our water pump---it had been losing flow every day and needed the seals inside replaced. This job wasn’t anything too extraordinarily difficult; I had done it with Dad several years before the emergency. After disengaging the windmill gearbox, we would have to unbolt the upper pump rod and then very carefully remove the lower one that went down in the well casing. After that, the pump head could be removed and everything overhauled in the shop.\n\nThings went smooth early on. Jim was scared of heights, so I volunteered to climb the tower. Let’s just say that carrying a fifty-pound chain fall up a rickety 30-foot ladder is not fun. Regardless, I was able to throw the clutch lever and hang the hoist. After that, we would wrap some heavy Number 9 wire around the lower rod and pull it out vertically.\n\nHere is where things went south. I trusted Jim enough that I didn’t check his wire wrapping job. He knew how heavy that 1” diameter rod was, so I figured he would realize the massive force being applied as we lifted it. A couple wraps of that heavy wire can hold an amazing load, but only if done with proper care.\n\nWell, when I heard the unmistakable sound of that rod slamming into the casing floor 60 feet down, I realized it wasn’t adequate.\n", "Time had stopped. That's not a metaphor or anything. All around the world, all at once, everything became frozen in time. Of course, we weren't aware of this fact until much later, when \"they\" came. But that wasn't for... Well, I'm not sure how long. We had been in a sort of frozen stasis— unable to move, but not needing to eat or sleep or drink. And we were concious the whole time, staring straight ahead. Registering everything that was happening, but being unable to do anything else. I have no doubt that many people went completely insane.\n \nAnd yet, somehow, I manged to hang on. For months, or maybe even years, I can't say how long we were like that. Staying in agonizing stillness until one day, there was a flash of light, and then complete darkness. \n\nI found myself able to freely move again, but in the dark I had no way of knowing where I was or where I should go. It was then that they came. They appeared from above as shapes and colors that I simply don't have words for. And they said the most peculiar thing, I still haven't forgotten. They said, and this isn't word for word or anythig, but they said that they were... Time. That they were the seconds in the day that run our world... They said that... We had taken them for granted. That we weren't giving them the respect that they deserved. That we were unfit to roam our planet anymore. They told us that we had been banished to this land... to die out. To die out humanely, actually. I remember that. They out an emphasis on how humane they were being. They left, saying that we, as a species have brought this upon ourselves. \n\nThey disappeared shortly after that, but I was still left to blackness as far as I could see. I've been wandering ever since then. Trying to find...something. Anything. I've encountered some people, and even fewer that I trust enough to travel with. The... The Seconds show up sporadically. I've seen them now, maybe a total of six times. They don't seem to hear our cries out to them, or if they do, they choose not to acknowledge them. There's no time here, so I can't say how long we've been wandering. I have a beard now, and hair down to my shoulder blades. That's the best indicator that I have, but I sit I'll can't be sure how anything works here, as I've gone my while time here without eating anything. I will can't get over it. Often I lie down itp go to sleep, and in the dark void I think \"How the hell did we cause the \"second\" apocalypse?\"", "\"We never could have seen it coming. For ten years, we've been dependant on the dead for food.\"\n\n\"You...eat them?\"\n\n\"No, we didn't eat the fucking walkers. But the walkers were the shepherds. It was something nobody thought about. It was just the way things were. You see, with so few humans left, the dead turned to animals for food. Their populations dwindled, and the animals began to form...communities. A kind of thing that could have never existed before Death's End. They evolved to survive in a new world where the dead rule, the same way we did. When a horde of walkers is nearby, every animal around comes together for protection. Dogs, cats, deer, cattle, bears, wolves...they all form a massive group. The strong ones kill the walkers. The weak and little ones hide in the center.\"\n\n\"I would have liked to see that.\"\n\n\"I bet. It was something special to behold. When we learned about this phenomenon eight years ago, it was like a bounty from God himself. Food, enough to feed an army, all gathered together in one spot. We would move to a new town, fire a few flares, and every walker in a ten mile radius would converge. Sure as rain, the animals would gather up outside their forest. When the horde approached, our warriors would run out and slay the walkers with sword and hammer. Then our snipers would open fire, killing the best food. Cows, horses, and sheep were the primary targets. We would smoke the meat. Take ammo off the bodies of the dead. We never wanted for anything.\"\n\n\"What went wrong?\"\n\n\"Heh. Wrong. It seemed so right at the time. We had a scientist, you see. One of the last. Since Death's End, he worked nonstop to find a way to rid the world of the dead. Three months ago, he succeeded. A massive capsule, fired into the atmosphere. It took a month to get it set up to fire out of Florida. You might have seen it.\"\n\n\"I did. I thought I might have had a new friend, before it exploded.\"\n\n\"Sorry about that. Well, it worked. His serum spread all around the Earth. Every walker fell within a few days. And as we lost them, we lost our source of food. Animals returned to the forests. None of us knew how to hunt. All canned goods were long gone. We're starving. There's only three of us left. We've agreed to end it tonight. We're too weak to have any hope of finding food. All I can think at this point is 'How the hell did we end up causing the SECOND apocalypse?' The whole thing is so fucked.\"\n\n\"At least you'll die with the trees and the sky. All I have is the black since the observation halls vented last week. Anyway, it's been good talking to you. I'm about to leave contact range. I'll be venting the last of the oxygen when I do. So...goodbye.\"\n\n\"Goodbye. I'm glad to have-\"" ]	3
	[WP] Two royals who dislike each other, but are engaged for political reasons try and get a wizard to make love potions for them.	[ "\"I never signed up for this,\" muttered Nicholas. \"I can't believe we're actually doing this. I can't believe it.\"\n\n\"Well I never signed up to date such a horrible lad as you,\" retorted Anne, rolling her eyes. With a flip of her thick hair, the princess glanced at the boy sitting next to her. \"Besides, do you want to get along with me or not?\"\n\nAt this, the excited wizard zoomed out from his lab, two beakers in hand. \"It's complete, Your Highness.\" \n\nThe princess clasped her hands together as Prince Nicholas snatched one of the glass vials. He shook the pink contents, swooshing the liquid on all sides with discouragement. \n\n\"This is it?\" asked Anne. Her eyes were wide with interest as she gazed at the resplendent potion. The wizard's head bobbed up and down. \n\n\"So you're saying that this will make me fall in love with that pig?\" Nick raised an eyebrow with a questioning look. \n\n\"Who are you calling a pig, Nicholas? I was the one who came up with this brilliant idea,\" replied Anne boastingly. \n\nNicholas snorted in disbelief. \"Brilliant? More like absolute garbage.\" \n\n\"Just try it, Your Highness. You won't be let down,\" explained the wizard. \"It contains a sprinkle of hair, some roses, rotten eggs, four fried frogs—\"\n\n\"That's enough, that's enough,\" spoke up Anne. She turned to look her future husband in the eye. \"Shall we?\"\n\nNick grimaced. \"Fine, fine. Let us try it.\" \n\nAnne held up her glass. \"To a better future!\" she said cheerfully, happiness plastered all over her face. As she held the vial to her lips however, Nicholas held back. His fingers slipped from the beakers, dismissing the wizard's cries. \n\n\"There is no way I will ever drink that mess,\" taunted Nicholas, stepping over the shards of broken glass. Anne's own drink splattered across the floor like a blotch of paint, tainting the cabin wood. \n\nTears instantly bursted from the princess's eyes. \"I cannot believe you, you horrible monster! I have tried everything to please you, and all you do is hurt me!\" Anne dashed from the cottage, tracing her way back to her palace. \n\nWith a smirk, the selfish prince watched as Anne's silhouette gradually faded into the distance. Dusting his hands off, his grin grew wider. \"Good riddance.\" He turned around to face the wizard, but his massive smile instantly faded; Nicholas hadn't considered the consequences of defying a powerful sorcerer. \n\n", "He hated everything about her. Her optimism, her naiveté. \nShe hated everything about him. His ruthlessness, his coldness. \n\nThey only had one thing in common, that they would put the happiness of their people over their own.\n\nAnd thus, they met in secret with an alchemist. He brewed them a potion, a love potion if you will. This was the only they, they told each other. They were married before the day ended. They consummated their marriage on the second day, and by the third their kingdoms were united. \n\nHer people were simple, but there were many and were eager to learn.\nHis people were few, but well trained and willing to teach. \n\nThe people saw their King and Queen, once enemies, united as one. \n\nThey set their difference aside and fought fiercely against the invaders, repelling them. \n\nHe wished to chase them, to make them pay. \nShe wished to let them leave, as their people had payed enough. \n\nHe had drunk the potion. \nShe had not.\n\nAnd that is how your grandmother brought peace to this continent.\n\nMy lesson to you dear, is to find a man who can run this country, then run that man. It's much easier that way.\n", "The stagecoach rattled over every bump, crevice and hump on the cobblestone path, but unlike the Pendletons inside, the transport managed to stay in one piece and not fall apart. \n\nEdward Pendleton's father was a rich royal who owned most of the docks and harbors up and down the coastline of Preya, whose ships were forced to trek the long way around to deliver their goods to Sakarnos.\n\nThe reason for this was because Minerva Stranner's mother refused to let the trading ships into the Black River, for fear of spreading the plague. Of course, the beautifully named Black River was the fastest way to Sakarnos, trimming down travel time by a whopping seven days. \n\nFrom there, Edward met Minerva and were coerced into an arranged marriage to satisfy each of their parent's goals. \n\nWere they happy?\n\nTheir parents certainly were. Edward's father got his route. Minerva's mother received some compensation as they passed her blockade. \n\nAnd what did Edward and Minerva get?\n\nDefinitely not a new trade route. \n\n...\n\n\"Sir, are we there yet?\" asks Minerva, dressed in a elaborate outfit that only served to make her sweat a bit more at the cost of squeezing her breasts together. \n\nThe coachman replies in a tone drier than a corpse in the desert. \"We're nearly there, your ladyship. Just like I said five minutes ago.\"\n\nEdward is donning a suit that doesn't seem to fit his lanky proportions. The aristocrat folds his arms, glaring at Minerva. \"Leave him alone. We'll get there when we get there.\"\n\nShe scoffs. \"This wasn't my idea, was it now?\"\n\n\"I'm trying to find a solution-\"\n\n\"By going through the land of the poor? The land where there's no fresh water?\"\n\n\"You're a bitch.\"\n\n\"You're an asshole.\"\n\n\"You're horrid in bed.\"\n\n\"Because you're so dreadfully unattractive, I can't get it up! It's like pushing rope down there-\"\n\n\"You take that back!\"\n\n\"You just lay there and sweat!\"\n\nThe stagecoach grinds to a halt. Sighing, the coachman opens the blinds behind him. \"We're here, your lordship. Please put that down. That doesn't go there, your ladyship. No, ma'am...please don't...that's every expensive. My lord, please remove your hands from her throat. You will kill her, please strangle her gently, like we practiced...No, it's all right, I can replace it with two months pay. Sigh. Yes, your lordship, I will clean all of this up. Sigh.\"\n\n\n...\n\n\"No.\"\n\nEdward and Minerva stared at the wizard as if he just defecated on their shoes. \n\n\"Len, I had very reliable sources that you would be able to make this!\" exclaims Edward. \n\nMinerva elbows him. \"You idiot. Now we're out in this blasted town. I want my servants, now.\"\n\n\"I am a wizard, not an alchemist.\" responds the bearded man, who's not even maintaining eye contact with the two royals. In his hands is a piece of paper, in which he has sketched the bottom of a squirrel. \n\n\"Well, where can we find one?\" asks Minerva. \n\n\"You can't. He's dead.\"\n\n\"Dead?\"\n\n\"Dead. As in unalived.\" responded Len. \n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"He was involved in a freak accident involving some candles and a jump rope.\"\n\n\"Can't you make one? A love potion?\"\n\n\"I can. But I won't.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because it's illegal and outlawed across the four nations.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So I could lose my life. Or even worse...lose my job.\"\n\nEdward places a sack full of coin on Len's desk, knocking over a tray of feather pens. \"We'll pay you. Whatever it takes. We need to love each other. We need to be in love.\"\n\n\"What a surprise.\"\n\n\"It's 2000 coin. Just make us a batch. Just one batch.\"\n\n\"The last time I made one, the whole town had a massive orgy.\" Len shudders. \"I miscalculated the concentrations. I saw things...positions I have never seen before, liquids in different shades...ugh. The smell lasted for days. The townsfolk did it everywhere. The roofs, the kitchens, the stables, the gallows, the jails, in the seats where you two are sitting. My apprentice and I had to create a mindwash elixir for everyone to forget what happened. Then there's this one time where I put a lady in a coma. Almost killed her. Probably would've killed her if I added a drop more.\"\n\nEdward smiles. \"Sounds perfect to me.\"\n\nMinerva shoots her fiancee a look. \"You bastard.\"\n\nLen intertwines his fingers together, his patience depleting as quickly as Edward's chances at reclaiming a happy life. \"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you two will have to talk to each other and-\"\n\nThen Len's head explodes, splattering all over the paintings behind him.\n\nEdward looks in horror, his eyes wandering to the flintlock in Minerva's hand. \n\n\"Minerva, honey...what did you do...how did you get that...\" His ears were ringing loudly. \n\n\"I...I don't know! I don't know, oh god, is he okay-\"\n\nEdward points to the smoldering bloody stump where Len's head used to be. \"DOES HE LOOK OKAY, MINERVA? DOES HE LOOK LIKE HE'S IN GOOD HEALTH? DOES HE? DOES HE?\"\n\n\"Don't yell at me! You know it makes me gassy...\"\n\n\"Oh god, I married a murderer. I'm going to the courts! I'm going to the slave camps! I'm too handsome for hard labor!\"\n\nMinerva just cries obnoxiously.\n\n\"How in the blazes did you get your hands on that gun...\" asks a panicking Edward.\n\n\"I took it from the coachman (Hiccup). I was scared of the townsfolk and thought they were going to have their way with me.\"\n\n\"Minerva, you just murdered an innocent citizen of the kingdom. You could get your ladyship revoked-\"\n\nMeanwhile, his sobbing wife to be dives into Len's laboratory, and starts mixing liquids together into a potion vial. \"There's a recipe! There's a recipe on the table! It (Hiccups) says its the infatuation potion...I think, it's too worn out to see clearly.\"\n\nEdward facepalms. \"Minerva, you don't know what we're doing. We need to get out of here-\"\n\n\"Quickly, we can still make this work...\" pleads Minerva, her tears smearing her makeup.\n\n\"I thought you didn't agree to this.\"\n\n\"Now I do. Hey, why is this vial getting so warm-\"\n\nThe shack promptly exploded, much like Len's unusually shiny head.\n\nMinerva had misread the incineration potion ad the 'infatuation' potion. She was never good at reading. \n\nNear the stagecoach was the coachman watching the whole thing unfold. He simply lights himself a pipe, merely blinking at the burning pieces of wood and rubble. \"Till death do them part.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Wizard! Come here, your kingdom has need of you.\"\n\nUgh, this again. It'd been nice, at first, all the respect and the assumption that I had tons of forbidden knowledge. I could still say whatever I wanted to anyone I wanted and get away with it, which was fortunate because I hated them all. It wasn't really their fault they didn't understand anything I said, but still, the king didn't make any effort and neither did anyone else.\n\n\"Yes, my liege?\" I said, butchering the pronunciation of this godforsaken language that mine had allegedly come from.\n\n\"Wizard,\" the king started,\n\n\"I'm not a wizard.\" I said.\n\n\"Wizard,\" the king continued, \"you will create for us a love potion.\"\n\n\"Okay, again, I'm not a wizard. I'm a time traveler who got stuck here. You know this because I tell you every time we have this conversation.\"\n\nThe king nodded as though he was considering this. \"Did a wise man not say that sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic?\"\n\nI grit my teeth. \"No, because the man who said that hasn't been born yet. You only know that quote because I said it.\"\n\n\"Indeed.\" The king responded, as though I'd conceded his point. \"So, do your wizard thing and create the potion.\"\n\n\"It doesn't work like that, okay! I was an aerospace engineer, I don't know anything about 'potions'!\" I said.\n\n\"'aerospace engineer'\" the queen said, mangling the pronunciation of the words as badly as I'd been treating her language. \"I do not know either of those words.\"\n\n\"I made things fly.\" I said.\n\n\"And thus you are a wizard.\" The king said. \"Less talk, more potion!\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked. It was a pointless question, but I knew he wasn't going to let this go so I at least needed to know what they were going to do with whatever I came up with.\n\nThe king looked at the queen, who looked back at him. They shared a moment of squeamish unease.\n\nFinally the queen spoke. \"His lordship is... uncomfortable with nudity.\"\n\n\"What.\"\n\nThe king squirmed in his chair. \"I do not wish to become un-dressed. It is unseemly.\"\n\n\"You've got to be naked sometime.\" I pointed out. \"What about baths?\" They weren't a concept I'd introduced, but I was trying to get them to catch on because I didn't want to die of the plague. The king, at least, should have been able to afford them.\n\nHis continued squirming and unwillingness to meet my eyes told me that he'd chosen to forgo that particular luxury. The queen's look of disgust confirmed it.\n\n\"Okay, fine.\" I said. \"I'll make your stupid potion.\" I knew by giving in I was only encouraging them, but I needed to remain useful or else I'd end up on the streets and die of the plague. Besides, I had something in mind.\n\nI went back to my 'laboratory'. I'd had to do some importing, and quite a few tricks, but I'd set up something here that'd been a personal hobby of mine back home. It was already mostly complete, all it would need was a little more work....\n\nAnd thus, a week later, I presented to the king and queen their 'potions', which they quaffed and then disappeared to their chambers. The sounds of - I wouldn't call it 'lovemaking' - echoed through the keep, an acoustic touch that I'd also been made to design for some damn reason.\n\nOh well, at least it had worked. I'd probably need to start the fermentation full time. Making booze wasn't something I'd invented in this timeline, but I had - not to be humble - perfected it. Anyone could make wine. I'd created the wine cooler!", "\"Well, I was wondering when you two would show up.\" the witch leaned back against her velvet chair. \n\n\"You know we were coming?\" the woman asked.\n\n\"I did write her, after all.\" the man informed the woman.\n\n\"Oh, shut it. You sent that letter yesterday. Everyone knows the postal system is terrible, there's no way she could have gotten it so quickly!\"\n\n\"Well whose fault would that be?! Your father introduced the trade routes to this land!\"\n\n\"And yours was in charge of maintaining the highway! My Posen would move twice as fast if there wasn't great big potholes everywhere!\"\n\n\"WELL MAYBE WE'D MAINTAIN THEM BETTER IF YOU GAVE US MORE POSTMEN.\"\n\n\"MAYBE WE'D GIVEN YOU MORE POSTMEN IF YOU WPULD MAINTAIN THE ROADS!\"\n\n\"BOTH OF YOU, ENOUGH!\" the witch cried. \"My gods, you're getting on my nerves already.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\" the couple apologized in unison, looked at each other, and glared.\n\n\"Let me guess. Political marriage? You don't love each other? One of you is flamboyantly homosexual?\"\n\n\"I'm into men.\" the woman told the witch. \"I can't speak for him, though. Have you seen how much time he spends on his hair?\"\n\n\"That's a stereotype!\" the man retorted. \"And a king should always look his best.\"\n\n\"It's under a crown all day!\"\n\nThe witch groaned. \"Okay, here's what we're going to do.\" she began to write. \"Let's see... I'll be needing this, and this... one of these... there!\" the witch held out a note to them. \"Find these ingredients and I'll make you a love potion.\" \n\n\"Wait... we have to do your GROCERY list?\" the woman asked incredulously.\n\n\"I'm starting to wonder why you're so highly reccomended.\" the man turned to stare at the witch.\n\n\"You'll need to go alone, just the two of you. It won't work if there's a third party. Trust me, I let Rasputin bring his friends and now the Kingdom of Russia is a harem.\"\n\n\"This seems suspicious.\" the woman narrowed her eyes. \n\n\"How do we know that you're not leading us into a trap?\"\n\n\"Then leave your guards here. They can kill me if you're not back by nightfall.\"\n\nThe man and the woman began muttering to each other. They both turned to face the witch.\n\n\"Seems fair enough.\" the woman nodded.\n\n\"Good. Now go get those ingredients. There are some weapons in my shed out back.\" the witch propped her feet up on the table and began leading through a large book written in Hebrew. \n\nAnd with that, the start crossed couple were off. \n\nThey both armored up. The man chose a broadsword, typical of men in his kingdom. The woman chose the bow.\n\n\"Do you even know how to use that thing?\" the man asked.\n\n\"For your information, yes, I do.\" the woman nodded. \"My father was a fan of boar hunting. As you know, my elder brother is quite sickly, so he took me instead.\"\n\n\"Interesting. Is that why you have calluses all over your hands, like a man?\"\n\nThe woman started to open her mouth to protest, but she stopped. \"You know what? Let's just focus on finding these ingredients.\"\n\n\"Good plan.\" the man nodded, and unfolded the parchment. \"let's see here...\"\n\nOne leaf from a bitter plant in the middle of the forest\n\nOne skein filled with the brown water from the giant's barrell\n\nNectar from a beehive\n\n\"Oh look, she included a map!\" the woman grabbed the paper. \n\n\"Can you read maps?\" the man asked her.\n\n\"Boar hunting, remember? Hunters read maps.\"\n\n\"Right. I say we look for the plant first. We would be least likely to find such a plant in the dark.\" the man decided.\n\n\"Fine by me. Let's be off.\"\n\nThe couple travelled mostly in silence. \n\nAfter about an hour, they reached the center of the forest.\n\n\"Okay, we're here.\" the woman nodded. \"But I see a lot of plants here. Which one is the bitter plant? Did the witch include a drawing?\"\n\n\"It seems not.\" the man sighed. \n\n\"They all are plants. We certainly can't run around tasting them- we'll get poisoned!\" \n\n\"What if she knew that? Think of the context... 'a bitter plant'...\"\n\n\"You mean like what else does bitter entail? It's a flavor!\"\n\n\"No, it's also a word! It can come from anger, resentment... loneliness...\"\n\n\"Ah, it's a riddle! We should find a plant that fits that!\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"How do we find a plant that fits that?\"\n\nThe man scanned the area. \"Ah!\" he pointed. \"Do you see that cluster of plants!\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"There isn't anything growing by it! Even the grass doesn't grow at its roots!\"\n\n\"Then that's our plant?\" the woman asked. \n\n\"Indeed! It has to be.\"\n\nThey plucked a handful of leaves from the bunch and consulted the map.\n\n\"Okay, one down. I think we should try to find the nectar next.\" the woman nodded.\n\n\"Why?\" \n\nInstead of answering, she pointed at a bee resting on a flower. \"He'll bee our guide!\"\n\n\"That was a terrible joke.\"\n\n\"You're a terrible human beeing.\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\nThey followed the bee in silence for quite some time. They reached a hive, large and buzzing.\n\n\"Okay, how do we get this bee nectar?\" the woman asked. \"I don't like the idea of being stung.\"\n\nThe man thought for a moment. \"My road workers usually use smoke to make the bees leave when they want to chop down the first trees.\"\n\n\"Okay, but if we use fire, the nest will burn down or if we get too close they'll sting us.\" \n\n\"We don't have to get close. You said you can shoot, right? There's no grass under the hive. If we shot a flaming arrow, then there would be nothing to catch fire.\"\n\n\"Okay, but how do we shoot a flaming arrow, genius?\"\n\n\"Simple.\" Just wrap some grass in a cloth, make a bag, tie i t to the arrow and light it. You fire, there's a little smoke, and hopefully the bees will leave.\"\n\nThe woman frowned, but nodded.\n\nThe plan went off perfectly! The smoke seemed to scare off the bees, and the man was able to scoop out some honeycomb and wrap it in his kerchief. He sprinted back to the woman, seeing as the smoke was dying out.\n\n\"You have nectar in your hair.\" the woman pointed out. \n\n\"It's sticky!\" the man tried to comb it out. \"Hm... this would make a lovely hair gel!\"\n\nThe woman smiled. \"Now the giant?\"\n\n\"Oh dear. I'm a bit worried about this one.\" \n\nThe two travelled yet again. By the time the sun was starting to wane, they were in some sort of abandoned town. \n\n\"So, a giant must have a large barrel in which to store this brown liquid?\" the woman asked. \n\n\"Looks like it.\" the man nodded to their left. Sure enough, there was a large barrel in the center of town.\n\n\"This is too easy...\" the woman muttered as she climbed onto the barrel to fill a skein.\n\n\"WHO GOES THERE?!\" a deep voiced boomed.\n\n\"Uh oh.\" the man gulped. There was a giant lumbering towards them, at least eight feet tall. \n\n\"WHO DARES TAKE MY SPEACIAL BREW?!\"\n\n\"Speacial brew? You mean this is simply... alcohol?\" the woman asked.\n\n\"I MAKE MY OWN. I CAN'T AFFORD THE INSANE LIQUOR PRICES IN TOWN DURING THIS ECONOMY!\"\n\n\"Um... could we maybe have a little?\" the woman asked. \"just a skein.\"\n\n\"GET YOUR OWN!\" the giant roared. \n\nWithout thinking, the man rushed him and stabbed the giant's foot.\n\n\"GAHHHHHHHH!\" the giant cried.\n\n\"RUN!\" the woman shouted as she jumped from the barrel. The took off at a sprint, with the giant limipng closely behind.\n\nBy them time the sun was setting, they had lost the giant and were approaching the witch's hut. They entered without knocking to find their guards and the witch playing cards.\n\n\"You're back. I was almost worried that you wouldn't make it.\"\n\n\"WE ALMOST DIED, YOU STUPID WITCH.\" the woman screamed.\n\n\"If I hadn't stabbed that giant, we'd be dead!\"\n\n\"He wasn't actually a giant, you know. Simply a very large man.\"\n\n\"Just make us the potion.\" the man sighed. \"I want to go home.\"\n\nThe witch sighed and took the ingredients. She stirred them into a mug, and took a sip. \"That's good.\"\n\nShe then pulled out a small vial of red liquid, and handed it to them. \"Drink half of this each and you'll be hearing wedding bells before you know it.\"\n\nThe couple chugged down the vial. \n\n\"Odd. I wasn't expecting it to taste so... bland.\"the man frowned. \n\n\"And this doesn't have any of the ingredients we brought!\" \n\n\"Yes it does. I just needed you to replenish my stock for the next stash. I had a vial of it all along.\"\n\nThe man and the woman glared at the witch, and sighed.\n\n\"Let's... go home now.\" the woman nodded, too tired to argue. She put an arm around her fiance's shoulder, and they dragged their feet back to the carriage. \"I think you and I should spend the day inside together tomorrow.\n\n\"That love potion must be working, because I actually agree with you for once.\" the man nodded.\n\nThe soldiers stayed for a moment to clean up. \n\n\"Oy, mind if I try some of the fresh love potion?\" a soldier asked the witch. \n\n\"Hm? Oh, this isn't a love potion, dearie! It's just a mixed drink.\"\n\n\"You had 'em go all that way to get you sumthin' so you could be drunk?!\"\n\n\"Pretty much!\" the witch cackled.\n\n\"Why?!\"\n\n\"Have you seen the price of liquor in this economy?\"\n\n\"Well what was in the vial?!\"\n\n\"Some water and red dye.\"\n\n\"But how do you know if they'll-\"\n\n\"Look at them.\"\n\nThe soldier looked out the window. The couple were laughing in the carriage, and the woman was trying to comb something out of his master's hair. \"I'll be...\"\n\n\"The best cures are the natural ones. Sometimes you just have to give love time and it'll happen on it's own.\"\n\nAs they left, the witch waved goodbye, sipping her drink. All of a sudden she froze.\n\n\"Shit.\" she sighed. \"They stabbed my landlord. There goes my low rent prices this month.\"" ]	5
	[WP] You are death. You adopt a daughter whose name is Life and you are struggling to teach her how to be a grim reaper like yourself.	[ "I thought I was doing a good deed when I took this child under my wing. Small and helpless, she just looked at me with those lovely blue-green eyes, and she did the strangest thing: she smiled. Not a sad smile, nor a smile of insanity or acceptance, but a real, genuine smile. A loving, happy smile. One that I had never before been given. As much as I have seen and done - me, Lord Death - one would assume I could not be swayed by something of this sort... and yet, I had been. Her goodness and light, traits that would normally give me disgust or pity, somehow filled me with a warmth I had never known. And so I took her. The girl who smiled in the face of death.\n\nI can't even tell her age. She appears to be only around three or four years old by human standards, and she walks with a similar curiosity - yet she understands my words perfectly and appears to be entirely fearless. One thing is certain, this girl is not human by any means. No human can radiate such perfection and purity. No healthy human child can so easily smile in my wake. And no young human child, mind you, can understand language as directly and fluently as she. My assumption was confirmed as I noticed her phase through a human on one of our daily walks through town. I had originally wondered if this child was simply approaching death, due to a health condition. That would have easily explained how she could see me, and her condition may have led to health defects that would warrant a genuine smile in the face of death. Yet she functioned normally, and my touch did nothing but bring her ticklish laughter.\n\nAfter our walk, I looked down at her, and leaned down very low (my nine-feet versus her three-feet heeded a very low lean), only to realize she had on a necklace with the word, \"Life\", ingrained into the large charm hanging from the thin golden chain. Life. This must be her name, I thought to myself.\n\nBeing that this girl somehow won my cold, dead, metaphorical heart, I let her continue to accompany me as I go about my days doing my job. She has become a daughter of sorts, and as the days went by, the concept that I was able to feel love at all continued to amaze me.\n\nOne day, we began. I decided to train her. Sure, I am immortal, but work is work, and time stops for no entity. Why, with the two of us on duty, we could get the day's work done in half the time, and even have time to spare. Time had never before concerned me, but I have found myself increasingly yearning for this \"time\" recently. My time has always felt best spent aiding poor souls to escape the dark reality of living, and finally deteriorate into nothing - a much sounder fate than the torture life brings. (Human life, of course, not my sweet child.)\n\nOur training began small. We began with an easy target, even though I hardly ever trouble myself with it: Vegetation. I gave her instructions. Usually she follows them absolutely perfectly. I thought to myself, she is very smart and such a quick learner, she will do just fine.\n\nI was wrong.\n\nI explained to her that this flower was at the end of its time, and I gave her the exact methods in which to finally rid of its life-force. I did not give her a scythe, for that would come later, but instead gave her instructions on using \"death's touch\", for which she would only need her finger. Just as I instructed, she approached the clover. Just as I instructed, she raised her hand slowly. Just as I instructed, she moved her finger forward. Just as I instructed, she touched its dying petals... yet the strangest thing occurred. She did not use \"death's touch\". She could not have, for instead of withering entirely and having its life-force dissolved to nothing - the petals slowly lifted, and filled with color. The flower lifted its head toward the sun, its stalk turned a bright green, and it blew beautifully in the wind.\n\nI was infuriated. No, more than that, I was confused. As though she was improving on my methods, she gave me this excited grin as though asking, \"Are you proud of me, daddy?\", though she said nothing, only waiting for my response to her actions. There was no way I could possibly be angry with this child, for this look expressed that she meant me no harm.\n\nI decided, I had to give her an example.\n\nI took her to a stray dog, looking old and weak. I don't often bother with the lives of animals, but once in a while I don't mind working with them. I outstretched my hand, and touched the dog on his muzzle, mimicking what I was wishing her to do. The dog's eyelids were heavy, it fell onto its side, and I could watch its soul leaving it. Life attempted to run past me, but I held my arm in front of her, stopping her from entering the scene. She needn't get distracted, she must observe. The soul looked weak as well, probably from that hard life the poor canine had lived, and within moments it turned grey, and fell toward the ground, eventually crumbling and becoming nothing. I looked back toward Life to see the look on her face. She seemed confused, almost as I was when she had touched the flower. She did not seem to understand. This intelligent girl, who had understood everything up until now, had failed to grasp the simple concept of death. But this is how it works, I explained. I directed her toward a sick kitten in a trashcan nearby, and allowed her to try once again. (cont.)", "God Damn it that stupid bitch Love! Thanks to her pathetic nagging, I got coerced into babysitting duty. Or, actually, parenting. Ugh, did I mention that I hated children. They were whiny and always complained. I could really just do with some screaming maniac trying to escape from my grasps as I hunted them down, reveling in the chase, and finally getting my prey- their soul. Only mortals close to their deaths could see me anyways...\n\nBut noooo Love had me babysitting Life. Correction, she had me adopt Life. My polar opposite. A child. Love claimed that I could teach her things. Train her to be a God or Goddess.\n\nThe brat was so innocent and naive that it made me sick. I was morbid, crafty, conniving, and hated the idea of life. I enjoyed creating suffering and pain, having souls enter my realm. Life was inherently good, trying to appease everyone and make them happy. Oh, this boy she brings to life? He needs a soul mate. This mother who's baby I stole? She needs another child.\n\nI tried to train her to be like me. I honestly tried. I tried to show her how to take a soul out of a living being. But, she would not do it! She refused, stating that it looks like it hurts them and that I was mean. I yelled at her for her incompetence and her crystal blue eyes filled with tears. She ran away to Love, hoping for some solace and comfort from the Goddess. Love merely gave me a disapproving look which made me glare at her in response as she rubbed the child's back soothingly and whispered things that made no sense to her.\n\nHowever, as I looked at Life- sweet, caring Life, I could not help but feel a deep pang of guilt as I saw the girl sob as if her world came to an end. As much as I despised her existence, attempting to train her caused her to grow on me a little. Just, do not mention that to Love...\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Create a dark suspenseful story based around the saying, "You get what you get and you don't get upset"	[ "Timothy sprayed a few more layers of cologne over his neck and shoulders as he praised his charming looks in the mirror. Although he cleaned up well, there was something mischievous in his style. He slapped on a big gold watch before approaching the front door to his condo. He took one last look in the nearest mirror before leaving. Tim hopped in his red Italian sports car and sped away. \n\nTimothy found a busy nightclub to wander into. The thumping of the music seemed to creep into his chest but he felt he could get used to it. He didn't care much for music though. Nights like these were all about one thing. Women. The club he was in was filled with them, which made him feel pretty good about his chances of taking one home. \n\nHe spotted a lone woman at the bar. She was wearing a dark blue, strapless, dress that her brunette hair just barely touched. Her skin was flawless and her eyes looked lost. Tim decided that he didn't care about anyone else in the club. The woman at the bar looked like a challenge and if he played the game right, he'd be rewarded later in the evening. He put his charming face on and approached the woman at the bar.\n\n\"'scuse me, ma'am! I'll have a shaken martini and an amaretto and coke for the lady please.\" Tim told the bartender.\n\nThe woman in blue nearly rolled her eyes.\n\"I don't drink.\" She said.\n\n\"Maybe you should. Might make the music tolerable.\" Timothy smirked. \n\nThe woman in blue smiled and accepted the drink that Timothy bought her.\n\"You new here?\" She asked.\n\n\"Sort of. Always been curious about the place but never had the courage to walk in.\" Tim said.\n\n\"And uh....what changed your mind this evening?\" The woman in blue prodded.\n\n\"I'm lonely, I was hoping to find some company.\" Timothy said with a smile.\n\nThe woman in blue immediately put her drink down on the bar. \n\"I think you're lost.\" She said sternly. \"You won't find what you're looking for here.\"\n\nTimothy nearly gasped.\n\"You say that like I've never been around the block before!\" He quipped.\n\n\"Not this one.\" She replied.\n\n\"Try me!\" Tim said with a clever smirk.\n\nThe woman in blue thought for a minute before leaning towards Timothy and resting her hand on his knee. She looked deep into his eyes.\n\"You take me home, I'll give you what I have to offer. But there's a catch.\" She said in a low hypnotic voice.\n\n\"Try me, sweetie.\" Timothy replied holding onto his clever smirk.\n\n\"You get what you get and you don't get upset.\" She said staring deep into his eyes.\n\n\"You got a deal sweet cheeks!\" He said as they both stood up and headed out of the club.\n\nThey busted through the condo door with their lips tangled tangled as their arms secured their bodies. They broke just for a second so Timothy could show the way to his bedroom.\n\"My name's Timothy, by the way.\" He said as he rushed to take off his clothes.\n\"Call me whatever you want, Timothy.\" She said in that hypnotic low voice of hers. She didn't remove any clothing as she climbed onto the bed. \nTimothy sat on the edge, but the woman in blue motioned him with one single finger to scoot over to the middle. \nHe followed her direction and as soon he was in position, she climbed on top of him. Her breathing was steady, as if she was more focused than turned on. Tim's breathing was a little more wild. \nThe woman in blue flipped down the front of her strapless dress, revealing her breasts. She bent down and began to kiss Tim's neck. \nHer fingers ran up and down his body as she started to hum a melody he had never heard before. \nIt was strange, hypnotic, confusing, and yet somewhat of a turn on to him. Her lips grazed his ear before she whispered something. Something that he wasn't sure what to make of.\n\n\"Timothy, Timothy, let me in.....I want to see what's under that pale white skin.\" Sh said in a sing song voice.\n\nHe could feel her nails running along his torso become sharp as she kept repeating the unnerving rhyme. He wasn't in the mood for sex anymore, now he started to panic. He tried to move but the woman in blue was incredibly strong. \n\"Get off of me, get out of my house!\" He screamed. \"Get off of me, I don't want this!\" \n\n\"Oh but Timothy, this IS what you wanted, remember?\" She said trying to sound sweet and innocent before her voice nearly growled again.\n\"Now lay still and LET. ME. IN!!!!!\" She screamed. \nHer fingernails dug into the sides of his rib cage as he screamed in agony. She gripped and tore into his flesh as if she was searching for his heart in hey stack.\nFinally, he was able to get one of his feet onto her abdomen and with one good kick, she went flying off the bed on tumbled on to the floor.\nThe woman in blue got up and stared at him.\n\n\"You said you wouldn't get upset.\" She said before she flipped the top of her dress back up and stormed out of Timothy's condo. \nHe laid there on his bed bleeding. He was still having trouble trying to convince himself of what just happened. One thing he knew for sure, was that he would never return to that club again.", "I open my eyes and the light makes my vision white. My eyes adjust to the brightness like a camera lense refocusing and I try to understand my surroundings. The room, which is cold and smells like my Grandma’s garage on a damp spring day, is mostly grey concrete and wood. My head is bound by a strap on my forehead, so I cannot move to see much else. Just the ashy walls, wooden ceiling, and the bright light. \n\n\nIt takes a moment for me to notice that my wrists and ankles are also bound and something much larger and less pliable is restraining my chest. The angle at which I am lying seems to be somewhere between upright and fully flat, closer to horizontal. And, as I process this, I realise that I am in pain. An aching sort of pain that feels dulled by whatever drugs are in my system. The drugs which cause the wooden ceiling planks to bulge and flatten like a ribcage accommodating breath. While the ceiling breathes in and out and in and out, I strain my eyes down in an attempt to see the source of the pain.\n\n\nMy leg.\n\n\nBut not my leg.\n\n\nDespite the blinding light working against me, something I find strange as lights are usually meant to be helpful and illuminating, I notice something blatant and suspicious. As I process this visual anomaly, the pain grows dramatically worse. And I panic. I breath at a rate at least three times faster than the ceiling and pull at the binding.\n\n\n“You get what you get and you don’t get upset,” chides a soft and soothing voice, paternal in nature.\n\n\nI stop struggling and the voice praises me. It calls me a good pet and tells me that I will never be beautiful again. My eyes make another run down my body, which I can see very little of from my limited perspective, and I examine the leg. The thick leg hairs. The dark brown skin. The jagged line where it meets the freshly shaven pale flesh of my thigh. \n\n\nNot my leg. \n" ]	2
	[WP] You find yourself making a deal with the devil, but it is not what you expected it to be.	[ "-Please it is the only thing that I would change my soul.\n-But dude even I know is not worth it.\n-They say you grant wishes in exchange of souls.\n-Okay, but tell me why would you want to erradicate that day of the year. It just doesn't make sense to me. Why not power, money, love, cure someone, something to help the humankind or destroy it if you that kind of guy.\n-I don't want any of that. I just want that day to never exist.\n-I will make my part of the deal. But that is not the solution.\n-I just didn't born to live that day.\n-You had been a horrible man. I would know that. I will now make your wish true and I'm sorry that you met HER.", "\"Listen. I'll give you my soul, if you make me famous.\"\n\"What, like Taylor Swift famous?\"\n\"No, not a celebrity. I wanna make something last. At least a few decades.\"\n\"That's a really low bar.\"\n\"Just do it!\"\n\"Fine. Sign this paper, and I'll give you something from the future that you can take credit for.\" \n\"Alright!\"\n\n_skritcha skritch_\n\n\"Alright, Mattyboy, here it is.\"\n\"What-- What the hell, Lucifer? This is just a book!\"\n\"Trust me. This book will spawn something amazing.\"\n\"Ugh. Can I at least change some of the names?\"\n\"No. Well-- Maybe. Except that green one.\"\n\"What-- Pee Pee?\"\n\"No, that's not how it's pronounced.\"\n\"Ugh-- I guess I'll take this down to a publisher first thing tomorrow morning.\"\n\"Have fun, Mr. Furie.\"\n\n\"...Pepe, jesus fucking christ. This thing'll never catch on.\"", "\"No, two beefy burritos and a taco. One taco, two burritos.\"\n\"Is this a joke? You're not giving me a lot to work with here.\"\n\"I'm giving you my soul for this. Two burritos and a taco. Just drive down to Taco Bell.\"\n\"You're selling me your soul to save the trip to Taco Bell?\"", "Knock Knock Knock\n\nI sighed as I pulled myself from the couch to answer my apartment door. Instead of the pizza man I had called for an hour earlier, I was met by a man in a black suit and sunglasses.\n\n\"Mr. Stevens! I have a deal of a lifetime for you!\" He said with an unusually large smile.\n\n\"Mr. Man! do I have a deal for you! For only two seconds of your time I'll give you a closed door!\" I said before shutting the door in the salesman's face. \"At least it wasn't a Jehovah's witness this time.\" I grumbled as I walked back to the couch.\n\n\"Aren't they just the worst?\" I voiced rang from the kitchen. I look over to my right and see the salesman sitting on the kitchen counter smiling.\n\n\"What the.. how did you?\" I said as I glanced back to the closed door. \n\n\"I'll cut to the chase Mr. Stevens. I'm the devil, and I have a deal for you.\"\n\n\"The devil? Like the devil devil, or a metaphorical devil?\"\n\n\"The real deal. Satan, Lucifer, el Diablo. I have many names you know.\"\n\n\"And your in my kitchen, to make a deal?\"\n\n\"You learn fast, I like that!\"\n\n\"I don't believe you.\"\n\n\"Is it my outfit?\"\n\n\"Mostly. I like the suit it looks real nice, but doesn't scream father of evil to me.\"\n\nThe salesman snapped his fingers and went up in black flames. As the flames died a cloven hooved demon that had to duck down in order to fit in the kitchen stood in his place. \"I could have come like this, but you know how hard it is to walk down the street like this. It's hell.\" It said in its twisted voice.\n\n\"Jesus fuck!\" I shouted and jumped back.\n\n\"Now now, no need for that language. You kiss your mother with that mouth?\"\n\n\"She's dead.\"\n\n\"I know, still asking though. You don't know how fucked up some people are that I deal with. Speaking of deals...\" The devil clapped his clawed hands together and burned back into the salesman. \"lets get to it.\"\n\n\"Deal for what?\"\n\n\"Glad you asked. I have a soul that I think you would want. I currently have a surplus and need to sell a few.\"\n\n\"What would I do with another soul?\"\n\n\"Don't you mean A soul?\"\n\n\"I have a soul.\"\n\n\"Not really. You see your soul was sold to me a long time ago.\"\n\n\"What? That sounds a little far fetched.\"\n\n\"Tell me, have you ever felt truly whole. Like that little void in your heart had been filled by the booze, women, or money you gotten?\"\n\n\"What money?\"\n\n\"Fair point. The point is you're empty inside and I have just the thing to fill it.\"\n\n\"Wait, back up a second. I don't have a soul?\"\n\n\"Nope, your as empty as an African child's stomach.\"\n\n\"What the hell man?\"\n\n\"I'm the devil what do you expect?\"\n\n\"So who sold my soul?\"\n\n\"What's with all the questions? If you must know, it was your mother. In fact...\" The devil snapped his fingers and a coughing older woman appeared in a puff of black smoke. \n\n\"This looks a bit too nice for hell.\" My mother said as she looked around.\n\n\"You're not in hell Debra, you're in your son's apartment.\" The devil answered\n\n\"Oh fuck.\" She cursed.\n\n\"Mom what the hell? You sold my soul to the devil?\"\n\nShe shriveled a little and lowered her gaze. \"Yeah.\" She squeaked out.\n\n\"For what?!\" I asked.\n\n\"A cheesy bean burrito!\" The devil answered with a snap of his fingers. My mom disappeared in even more black smoke, setting off my smoke detector. \n\n\"This is so messed up.\" I comment as I try to fan the smoke away from the detector.\n\n\"In your mortal frame of mind, yes. For me it's Wednesday. So back to our deal.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" I said as I cleared away the last of the smoke.\n\n\"Ill give you not just any soul, but your own soul, for one small favor.\" \n\n\"Oh boy! my own soul, thanks mister!\"\n\n\"This is serious.\"\n\n\"Alright what's the favor.\"\n\n\"You have an unused room over there, and I want to use it.\" \n\n\"Why? I imagine hell is big enough for you.\"\n\n\"I need a place to put a portal, for meetings in the mortal world.\"\n\n\"No. I'm not having demon meetings in my apartment.\"\n\n\"Come on it's your soul we're talking about here, and it's not just demon meetings. I deal with angels and other beings on occasion\"\n\n\"But it's my storage room. I have my weights in there.\"\n\n\"Oh you mean the ones you haven't touched in months.\"\n\n\"I'm getting to it.\"\n\n\"Sure you are. Let me explain this a bit better. It's not like the room is off limits. The portal will hang on the wall and the rest of the room will be untouched. Except when the room is in use. It'll be warped into whatever I need it for, but the rest of the apartment will be unchanged I swear.\"\n\n\"It's hard for me to take the prince of lies promise seriously. Besides, I made it this far without a soul.\"\n\n\"Not very far if you ask me, but that's subjective. Let me remind you that I have your soul, so if you die, you're mine.\"\n\n\"hmmm.\" I grunted as I thought about his deal. \"I'm not sold yet.\"\n\n\"Oh come on you soulless bastard. What more could you want?\" The devil asked.\n\n\"How about some rent money.\"\n\n\"Are you fucking serious. How about I ease up on your mother's punishment instead.\"\n\n\"Don't care, I want rent money.\"\n\n\"See, that's what I'm talking about you soulless bastard. Wouldn't you like a soul to feel love and all that other crap. Imagine how fulfilled you would feel with two\"\n\n\"Like I said before, I made it this far without one, I could go longer.\"\n\n\"God damn it. How about some kind of supernatural power?\"\n\n\"How about the power to make you give me rent money.\"\n\n\"For fuck sakes fine. Rent money for the apartment room.\"\n\n\"And my soul.\"\n\nThe devil sighed. \"And your soul.\" " ]	4
	[WP] "Before I write this, I must warn you, I am not a good person"	[ "\"Before I write this, I must warn you - I am not a good person.\"\n\nHe sat back in the armchair, reading that sentence through in his head once more. He'd spoken it aloud before writing it down, while writing it, and now, having written it and looking at it on the page, it hurt him almost physically. He knew it was true. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to believe. Why did that one thing about him have to erase everything else he had put his blood, sweat and tears into?\n\n\"Certainly not in the opinion of those who once called me friends or acquaintances. I'm calling myself Melmoth now. Sebastian Melmoth. I believe you know who that is, Reginald. Regardless, I have shed my skin but the layer beneath is the same. The gloved hand and the bare hand are identical.\"\n\nAbove all else, he felt sadness. He was being, and had been, persecuted for something out of his control. He knew he wasn't alone, there were hundreds, if not thousands, with the same feelings and the same problems. But that thought gave him little joy.\n\n\"I try to write. I honestly do. But it just doesn't feel the same any more. Nothing does.\"\n\nHe knew he was moping, but couldn't help feeling incredibly depressed. And quite understandably, too, he thought to himself, after falling from where I was to where I am because of mere subconscious desires.\n\n\"It's better out here than it was in prison, although there still exists a vast yawning chasm between by current situation and my life before that whole debacle.\"\n\nHe looked around the room, and out of the window. He had four walls and a roof to call his own, and tools with which to write - the latter, to him, infinitely more useful than the former. But he still recognised his works would mean little if they didn't travel, like he once did.\n\n\"I fear that the wallpaper will indeed outlive me. That nightmare still haunts me - sometimes I wake, and take a moment to appreciate the fact that I am alive.\"\n\nBut for how much longer? He could feel that the curtains would fall sooner rather than later.\n\nHe was sure that he was good. Pure, God-loving, and kind at heart. But he had sinned. And sinners were not good.\n\n\"There is little else to say. I hope you are well - and if not, at least better than I. That should be an easy state to achieve.\n\nOscar\"", "i'm not a good person in the slightest bit. I'm more of a Casanova, if I brought brides to hell with me. I am a serial manipulator, which meant that I could bring destruction to the world without really causing mass hysteria. I was brought into this world because I was brought of it. I was a part of social dogma, as soon as I brought peace upon it. Who was I?\n\nI was Jack the Ripper. I was the man, the myth, the lenged/ I was the snake hidden in the rebel, I was the cause because there seemed no other pause in my bretheren. My blood boiled when clots seemed no bigger show than reverence. \n\nI have it. I have the knife, and today son I give it to you. Open the envelope next given with this letter\n\n\n\n\"I'll do you proud father\"", "Before I write this, I must warn you, I am not a good person. \n\nEver wonder why djinn never allow for the extension of ones own life without trying to mess you over. It would be because their agents of the devil. \n\nEver wonder why the devil won't allow immortality. I'm that reason. I was the first person to ask for it. \n\nI sold my soul to the devil, and in return gained immortality. This was back before anyone else ever thought to think about it. This was back before the word immortality even existed. I asked for life forever. And I got it. \n\nNow what does one do with an everlasting life. Being immortal tends to remove the fear of God from a person. No devine judgement in death for those who cannot die. \n\nEver wonder why death was considered a man in a black cloak weilding a scythe. Ever wonder why in 1300AD the population was 360 million and I'm 1400AD the population dropped to 350 million. Ever wonder what the biggest calamity to ever strike humanity was called the black death. I'm that reason.\n\nThe holy crusades. They were trying to hunt me down. The great fire of London. Not even that sorry. Chernobyl. Suside attempt.\n\nI will admit that one nearly worked too. However God refused to take me because of the sins I had committed. And the devil sent me back because of our contract.\n\nThe four horsemen of the apocalypse, I inspired three of them. The seven sins, five of those. \n\nI've done every crime you can think of and more, to every type of person you can think of, of the order of 1,000s of times at least. \n\nEver hear of people serving multiple life sentences. I'd be why they exist. How many generations should pass before my crime is forgotten and out of pity I'm set free again.\n\nTake the most horrible thing you can possibly think of, make it around 10 times worse chances are I've done that to women and their children simultaneously.\n\nI won't say I'm sorry. My words have little weight in that regard. It's hard to say anything with any meaning without a soul.\n\nAll I'll say is that I am in no way shape or form a good person. I'm just bored, bone idle, being evil gave me a kick for a few centuries. Now I've run out of bad things to do. It's dulled on me.\n\nPerhaps I'll start doing good deeds. Attempt to negate my eons of sin. However many eons more that may take.\n\nMake no mistake I am not a good person. Just one that's got bored of living. ", "\"...in a sort of poetic way, I'd like to know if you've ever seen the man I described, because that man is me. Before I write the rest, I must warn you: I am not a good person. Here, I have committed a massive genocide of entire countries. I have brought nations to their knees, seemingly for fun.\n\nI fucked up. At first I was trying to find a way to write back to myself, to be a sort of psychic in the past. My project snowballed out of control and military ventures protecting my work did their job far too well.\n\nIf you're reading this, I finally did it. And that means I can prevent this tragedy from happening. Right now, my wife lies dead beside me, and even after what I've done, only that has put me out of commission.\n\nI want you to kill her. Find me and kill my dear wife. It's the only way to stop me. I've included the blueprints I used to build this device, you and me will live like kings. Thanks, I suppose, hero.\"\n\nI stood up and looked out the window, the sky a deeper blue than years ago. I grabbed the gun from my wife's had and followed her, knowing some piece of me will live.", "Before I write this, I must warn you, I am not a good person\n\nThe words leered at me through the lines of the page as I watched the whole of it unfold. My hand moved quickly, lead smudged fingers leaving streaked lines across the page. \n\nSome have called me a hero but that is now how I have felt. I have taken more lives than I can dream of just through sheer miscalculation.\n\nMy hands continued, despite my strength they trembled with the motions but I could not stop. It was all too much.\n\nI have made a career out of fighting injustice not realizing the greatest hypocrite was I. Judging others by my own will and hand and being judge, jury and executioner of my own moral rights, regardless of circumstance.\n\nTears began to drop across the page. Wet dots of a humanity I had only brushed against but never quite assimilate.\n\nThere's nothing for me to do. I fear more have suffered due to my actions than benefited. Most of you have some thought on my position. Some praise me as a hero, a god, a villain. But you man now know me as a figure of history that was lost among the stars.\n\nI read over the words carefully, making sure they all had their due weight and time. Making sure that everything was perfect as this was my legacy. Satisfied, I signed.\n\nSincerely, \nClark Kent, \nAlso known as, Superman.\n\n\n______________________________________________________________________________________\n\n\nIf you liked this, please check out my book! \n\nhttps://www.amazon.ca/WINDS-The-Elemental-Eye-Book-ebook/dp/B018TGN8VO", "A BRIEF NOTE TO NEW SELECTIONS\n\nBefore I write this, I must warn you, I am not a good person.\n\nAnd neither are you. We will strip you of your sense of morality in order to mold you to our purposes. \n\nCongratulations!\n\nIf you're reading this you've already achieved more in your short life than ninety percent of your peers. We can only accept the best and the brightest to usher us into the glorious future. Your whole life you have undoubtedly looked forward to taking your place as a member of the inner-party.\n\nWell, congratulations. Welcome. Now forget everything you were taught during your compulsory education about the history of the Republic.\n\nThe truth is much more complicated.\n\nDo you remember reading about the old Empire before the youth revolution took place? I'm sure you do. You have been selected for your academic prowess, your unwavering loyalty, and your excellent critical thinking skills. We only take the best and brightest into the cadre. \n\nYou were told that the Empire had stretched itself thin by fighting wars on multiple fronts, that the monied elite had grown decadent and weak, and that the common citizen suffered under high taxation and a harshly punitive system of justice. Surely you remember the films we selected showing the brutality inflicted against non-violent protesters at the hands of the old security services. \n\nWhat you don't realize is that the Empire never left. We restructured, cast off the old symbols, and reorganized.\n\nMaybe you don't understand. The Emperor was brought to justice by a civilian tribunal and executed on national television along with his closest advisers, generals, and members of the elite. Surely, a popular revolution that could cut off the very head of the state must be legitimate?\n\nThat was simply a restructuring. The new guard devouring the old. A story as old as time.\n\nBut what you probably don't realize is that internal politics were the only thing that could have brought about such change. No external power could have waged war against the might of the old Empire. No grass-roots revolution would have been allowed to light a fire as bright as this one ostensibly glowed. The military and internal security forces had five-hundred years of total domination to perfect the art of power. Dissidents among the populous could be rooted out and dealt with before they ever raised a hand against their masters.\n\nNo, no.. The only weakness the Empire had was it's INFOSEC Division. That's who spawned the revolution, we were the only ones who could. \n\nBut if you believe our actions were taken out of benevolence then your upcoming training in political science will give you a much clearer picture of the hearts of men. Welcome to the New Republic. Serve the Old Empire.\n\n--excerpt from Letters from History: The Second American Republic, 2781-3121", "Before I write this, I must warn you - I am not a good person. \n\nBy the time this sees the hands of the masses, my story will be known far and wide, and the historians will have chewed on it like hyenas on a corpse. You know who I am, and what I've done, and let the knowing fill you. So allow me to give you what you seek, if you know what that is yourself. \n\nI won't bore you with protestations or excuses for my actions. The dead are dead. They died for necessary reasons, and I owe you no reason or cause. Have I not said death is the solution to all problems? I have changed more in my years than anyone. MY life, and none other, shaped the world. I forced those fools on the party committee into my plans, and broke those that refused. The enemy across the ocean has feared my power, my 'insanity', for two decades. Even those fool fascisti tried to deal with me, and then, proving they are fools forever, attacked me in the peak of my power. And where are they now? And where am I. \n\nMy party is the one great certainty of this century, and will be the shape of the next. We will sweep across the world, and the fearful west will do nothing, as they did nothing fifteen years ago, in the face of the fascisti. The people may protest, but they will obey. The Sword and Shield will see to that. \n\nWhile the little yellow savages give us resources and support, and act a barricade against the west's militaries, my armies will grow. And then we will take what is due to us. No more corrupting capitalism, no more weakness and fear. We will have unity of purpose, and prosperity, and the ideals of the revolution. \n\nNo, I am not a good person. I am a great one, and goodness is not required.", "Before I write this, I must warn you, I am not a good person.\n\nThat's how it started. \n\nI was numb.\n\n---\n\nWhen we had met, I thought little of him. He was charming, sure. Made me laugh. But we were different. \n\nSo friends it was. For years, while we spent our time with others, our friendship grew.\n\nBut then it happened. \n\nThe lines on his face, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the way he walked, every so slightly with his toes turned in, the skinny jeans, the t-shirts, the way he could go on and on about his favorite things and how his eyes lit up when he did.\n\nI was hopeless. I was trapped. In those grey-green eyes with the wrinkles at the side.\n\nWhen he kissed me for the first time. I knew. I knew he was the one. The one I would spend the rest of my life with. He was good. He would be good. To me. Nothing could hurt me.\n\n---\n\nBefore I write this, I must warn you, I am not a good person.\n\nI sat on the couch. Our couch. \n\n---\n\nThings weren't always perfect. I was never deluded into thinking things had to be. \n\nBut. I believed in us. \n\nWith the friendship we had.. There was no reason he would lie to me about anything. I already knew his secrets. I knew what I was going to get. \n\nI knew we could work through anything. We always had.\n\n---\n\nThe words on the page were getting blurry now.\n\nA few, though. A few I could make out.\n\nlied\n\nguilty\n\nsorry\n\nforgive me\n\n---\n\nSome bumps were bigger than others. \n\nI knew I could be hard to deal with sometimes. My own head betrayed me so often it was sometimes hard to tell what was real and what wasn't. \n\nBut I was getting help. I was trying.\n\n---\n\nI don't know when I stopped crying. \n\nYou can't cry forever though, I supposed.\n\nNow. Now I had a choice to make. \n\n---\n\nWhen things were good, though.. Even then they were just okay.\n\n---\n\nI packed my bags. And left.", "\"Before I write this, I must warn you. I am not a good person.\"\n\nThe first few glyphs come easily, they always do.\n\n\"I'm evil. Not like 'the father of all evil' or anything like that. God what a boring job what would be.\"\n\nMy muscles remember the forms. Soon the sigils and runes are flowing from my hand, but I can feel the strain in my heart and lungs.\n\n\"I'm not interested in your task. I want no part of your vendetta. I wouldn't even be doing this much if you weren't forcing me. I prefer to keep my evils intimate. Constrained to as much as I can swallow all at once, and no more.\"\n\nNow the exhilaration kicks in. I can feel the power coursing within me. The bastard tongue shared by angels and demons flows through my body to fall out the tip of a fountain pen in plain India Ink.\n\n\"I could do anything you know. Write any future here. Twist you, or me, or anyone with a flick of the wrist. But don't worry. I am inscribing exactly what you asked for, no more, no less.\"\n\nThe lines sear out of my soul and onto cheap paper. The power is in the knowing and the intent. The materials are meaningless. With something from the dark space between orgasm and seizure, I draw the outer seal.\n\nFor a moment I am overcome with mercy and I cover the work with one hand.\n\n\"Are you sure this is what you want? It is not too late. You need only stand and walk away.\"\n\nI know he wont. He's come too far. The power wouldn't have answered if he'd had less resolve.\n\nHe takes the sheet and runs, as if he weren't carrying his own doom.\n\nI look down to see the rune for justice has seeped through the paper and stained my blotter. The power is already escaping. I lift the blotter by a corner and toss it into the fire before it can cause any mischief.\n\n\"You should have listened.\" I say to the empty chair. \"You'll press that paper to your chest and the ink will transfer. It will mark you the way no simple tattoo ever could. You'll become driven. You'll fight that evil you chase and it will eat you alive.\"\n\nOf course I'm going to have to pack up and move now.\n\n\"You'll cut a swath young man. And I'll feast on the evil you liberate. But just enough to keep myself in balance. You. You will be eating the lion's share by the time you're done. And then someone you've wronged will come for you.\"\n\nI take off my own ink-stained shirt. The older, more crudely drawn ink from my own skin is starting to ooze fresh from my effort. The old magic already trying to escape again. The old mistakes still vivid under the line-outs and overlays that keep them in check.\n\n\"We all start out thinking it will be so simple. We'll invoke justice and virtue. We strive for whatever absolute our elders waved before us, but then life teaches us that truly good people are so very rare.\"\n\nI check my tools. Knives. Forks. Tongs. Spits. Cleavers. And assorted spices, I'm not a barbarian. A gust comes through the shutters and I scent the wind. The man, the boy really, will have pressed the work into his skin by now. Within the hour he'll find his first evil and discover what it means to carry Justice on your soul. It will be a friend, or brother, or parent.\n\nThen he'll flee... and I can eat. Only as much evil as I can swallow in one piece. Greed isn't in me the way it once was. I remember burning cities and somber cults, but I won't make that mistake again. I'll leave the great feasts to others, that way they can foot the bill.\n\n\"No, I am not a good person. Not since my own crusade. But I've learned to live with my faults... and I did try to warn you.\"", "I knocked on the faded red door again.\n\nFinally, it opened. The smell of cigarettes and whiskey wafted from the opening. Before me was a pale skinned man in soiled underclothes and a frayed bathrobe. His cheeks were stubbled and his hair disheveled. \n\nHe held his hands up to block the light and tried to peer at me through half shut brown eyes. \n\nHe was nothing I imagined him to be. Not the way my sister told it. \n\n\" What do you what?\" He breathed out. \n\nI wondered if I was standing far enough away that I couldn't smell his breath, or if the smell of the apartment was just stronger. \n\n\" I want to know your story, uh, Mr. Whitely.\" I managed. \n\nHe laughed, halfway choking up phlegm. \"You want my story? Go buy a newspaper. You'll find my story.\" He laughed again, this time more clearly. \" Or go buy one of my books,\" He coughed. \"If they're still selling them. Each one is my story.\" \n\nHe turned away and started to close the door. I stepped forward and slammed my arm against it. \n\nHe pulled away in shock, and I slowly pushed my way into his apartment. \n\n\"Really, Mr. Whitely. I want your story, in your words.\" I held those brown eyes with as pleading a gaze I could muster.\n\nSomething registered behind them. Mr. Whitely blinked and looked away. \n\n\"Alright, okay, take a seat on the couch.\" He half gestured over to a sitting area. \n\nNow that I was inside, the stench of smoke was enough to make me feel I had smoked all my life, my lungs itching with annoyance. The room was strewn with bottles and cans. On a short table, an ashtray overflowed with butts. A few books were stacked on the table, one of them partially burnt. They all had Arthur Whitely as the author. \n\nI couldn't believe this was Arthur. \n\nThe couch Arthur offered was stained like the way the rest of the apartment seemed stained, felt stained. I was thankful to learn upon sitting, that it was mostly dry. \n\nArthur had shuffled over into the kitchen, and I could hear the clink of glass and the burble of liquid pouring in on itself. \n\n\"Pardon the mess,\" Arthur called from the kitchen. \"Once it started it just wouldn't stop.\" He was shuffling over to a chair by the couch. \n\nWas he talking about the mess or the allegations and the media attention? \n\n\"Ah, no,\" It was vile. \"It's alright.\" \n\nArthur sat down and set his drink on the floor. I suspected he had already finished a fair bit of what he poured. \n\n\"So, who are you?\" Those eyes were sharp now, piercing into me. \n\n\"Well, I'm - \" \n\n\"Rhetorical question. You're related to Melanie.\" \n\nI sat silently. \n\n\"Thought so, when you looked me down the eye earlier. Perceptive. Trait of a good writer.\" He laughed and gulped some of his drink. \"I take it you're here about her.\"\n\nI looked away, then forced my eyes back to his. \"Yes, I'm here to learn about her... and you.\" Fire in my throat. \n\n\"Huh,\" Arhtur said. He sat looking around the room, quiet for some time. The only sound was the ticking of a bookshelf clock. When he looked back at me, his eyes had become dull again, watered with whiskey tears. \n\n\"She was a lovely, beautiful girl, Melanie. Gorgeous, and kind. And everything you could ever want. She was everything to me, at least.\" \n\nShe was nothing to you. \n\n\"It devastated me when she left. Devastated. I didn't know what to do.\" \n\nYou pushed her away. \n\n\" I loved her.\" \n\nYou killed her. You filth, you scum, you rotting, miserable corpse. \n\n\"And then the allegations started coming from everywhere after she left. It was too much.\" \n\nIt wasn't enough. \n\n\"So I retreated here, within.\" \n\nAnother silence. This time, he drank. \n\nI manage to find words. Tried to control my voice. \"You know, she loved you.\" \n\nIt was true. I had seen it in her smile when she mentioned his name. The way she only talked about her Arthur, her Arth. She was madly in love. \n\nHe sat straighter when he processed what I said. \n\n\"Yes, yes. She loved me. I know that. With her whole heart. Imagine how I felt when she left. Devastated\" \n\nImagine how she felt when you ripped her heart out and crushed it. \n\nI searched for more words. Not what I wanted to say, what I needed to say. \n\n\" Why don't you write about that? Your love. Your relationship.\" Behind my facade my teeth were clenched. \n\n\"Couldn't. Who would read that?\" He sank a little, and stared down into his drink. \"No one's going to read anything I'll write now.\" \n\nI was glad about that. Happy that his heart was being rejected by the people who took his books off their shelves, burned them, and slandered his name. \n\nA few more words. \"I... I'd read it, Mr. Whitely.\" \n\nHe straightened up again and set down his drink. His stupor seemed to fade. \n\n\"Really? You'd read it?\" He blinked and sat back. \"I mean, you'd want to read it? My work?\" \n\n\"Sure.\" I said \"It could just be a short story.\" \n\n\"Yes, yes. A short story. That would work. Wouldn't take to long.\" \n\n\"Maybe even before I left?\" \n\nHe eyed me. Stroked his chin and thought. \"Yes. I could finish it. It would be short.\" He stopped and looked at the ground. \"It will be sad. A painful story, but true.\" \n\n\"That's fine. There are so many happy stories, now.\" \n\n\"Huh, yes. There's always room for a sad story. Yes.\" \n\n\"So you'll write it?\" \n\n\"Yes, I'll write it. A draft, you know. I don't think I could do more. But I could give it to you before you left.\" He got up. \"That is, if you're willing to stay for an hour or so.\" He looked at me, his eyes wide. Pleading. \n\n\"Yes... I have the time.\" \n\nHe exhaled and smiled slightly. Then he walked over to his desk and sat down. As I listened to the mechanical clicks and clacks as he prepared his typewriter, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. Now to wait. Now to get it on paper. Now to hurt him like he hurt Melanie. \n\n\"One more thing.\" \n\nI opened my eyes and looked at him. \n\n\"I'm afraid, well. Before I write this, I must warn you. I am not a good person.\"\n\nI leveled my eyes with his and forced a slight smile. My hand wandered to feel the cold iron tucked into the back of my waistband.\n\n\"Don't worry, Mr. Whitely. No one is.\" ", "\"Before I write this, I must warn you. I am not a good person.\"\n\nI looked down at my handwriting as yet another bombshell cracked over my bunker. It was calm and smooth, which belied my own fear at what was sure to come. \n\nI knew this was coming, and I knew the planet wasn't a huge fan of mine. But I had to make sure they knew my side of the story. \n\n\"I know that this isn't easy to hear. But what I did was for the betterment of the world.\" \n\nThey had to know this was my mission. This is what I was sent here for. My divine or rather, \"undivine\"purpose. Before that night in jail, I was so lost. Merely drifting aimlessly. I continued writing. \n\n\"He came all at once. He was tall and strangely good looking, yet his coat was that of a well traveled man. He introduced himself and put out a rather Crimson looking hand.\"\n\n\"He promised me that I would never be forgotten if I sold him my soul and did as I was told, and as I write this, I fear he may be right. \"\n\n\"Do I regret anything? No. Except that I could not save her.\" \n\nI stopped and looked up at my love. Her eyes were elegantly simple, yet impossibly deep. Her voice was like a soft wind chime on a hot day. \n\n\"Adolf, sweetheart, are you ready?\" \n\"Yes, Eva, my love.\" \n\nAnd with that, we both took our capsules of cyanide. I didn't succeed in my mission. But, he was right about one thing. I wouldn't be forgotten. \n" ]	11
	[WP] You are the main character in a videogame. The person controlling you is an easily distracted person and doesn't pause the game.	[ "It has been 3 days since I have last moved. 3 days I have watched the sun set and rise. 3 days I have seen carts drawn by horses pass to and fro before me. 3 days since I've eaten anything. 3 days since I've slept. 3 days I have stood here and been buffeted by the elements. 3. Days. I've been waiting so long that it has nearly become second nature at this point.\n\nMost would have gone mad. Most would have cried or wailed or made some kind of racket in order to voice their discomfort, but I, I could not even blink on command. Believe me I've tried. I say that \"I\" have not moved and I truly mean that for \"I\" have no control over what movements my body may or may not make. To be sure \"I\" have not moved a muscle voluntarily since my journey began ohh so long ago.\n\nI don't even know what \"I\" am. I just suddenly \"Was\". I have no memory you see. Nothing from before \"This\". I awoke is closer to the point at hand. I am you see what I am. The people of this world greet me as one of them. Amicably for the most part I've spoken with them, interacted with them, learned from them, been loved by them, hated by them, amusing to them...but \"I\" was not in control in any of those situations. Not one time.\n\nI've seen the slaves led around by their collars and manacles speaking of how they lack freedom. I'd laugh if I were able, they can speak, they can move, they can walk, run, swim, laugh, cry, love. I am unable to do these things not because I don't want to no. But because I am a true slave. I am nothing without \"He that moves\". I am mute without \"He that speaks\". I am insignificant to \"He that controls\" and until he returns I shall remain. Like a good slave because I don't have a choice...I never had a choice.", "There was a time when my limbs had movement, a time when life passed through my digital veins.\n\nI waited,\n\nwaited for another movement, if not just the tap of a foot. Watching the scenery, another lifeless soul passing by.\n\nIt's been 12 hours since Matt left, 12 hours since I've moved.", "\"...Okay, talk to you later. Yeah, bye. What was I doing? Okay! Back to Legends of... Wait, I don't remember going into a bar.\"\n\n(Don't move. Don't move a fucking muscle. I can still pull this off.)\n\n\"Where was I... Must have just slipped my mind. Oh, well, back to business!\"\n\n(Phew.)\n\n\"Wait a minute, I definitely wasn't in this town before.\"\n\n(Fuuuuuuck.)\n\n\"How did... Did Jimmy play my game while I was on the phone? HEY! JIMMY!\"\n\n\"It's a new feature!\"\n\n\"--What?\"\n\n\"Uh-- When left inactive for long periods of time, your characters will now go about their business using-- um-- state-of-the-art AI, allowing you to play even when you're not playing!\"\n\n\"Uh... That's cool... But how is my character telling me this?\"\n\n\"...Immersion!\"\n\n\"...Okay, that's-- What? WHAT? NO, JIMMY, I THOUGHT YOU-- WHAT? HOLD ON, I'M COMING...\"\n\n(Way too close. All I wanted was a damn beer because the idiot left me in the sun all afternoon.)", "I was staring into the eyes of the love of my life. Finally, we met after years of combat and fighting bosses after bosses. She laughed and said,\"Yeah I can relate. I work in marketing\"\n\nI mean she was perfect. I wanted to look at the moonlight and just put my forehead against hers, and smile. Rub my nose on hers, and hug her like there's no tomorrow. I wanted the Eifel tower to make our love enlighten itself through its beauty. Just when I was about to caress her cheek and kiss her. I froze. Or crashed. Or something. I couldn't move. \n\nHey Gary i said, breaking the fourth wall. \n\nYeah Luke \n\nWTF man\n\nSorry man, hooking up on Tinder\n\n Swipes Right", "It's a strange thing, Sancho, but at moments a certain lethargy overtakes me. This is no mere tiredness, no desire to rest my limbs. I remain standing, my weapon clutched in my hand, to all appearances perfectly alert and eager to do battle. But my will, Sancho, my will deserts me entirely. I may be out in the open, my enemies advancing on me, and yet I feel no fear. They strike at me, the cowards, and I accept their blows. Oh, there is pain, Sancho. I bleed, I cry out, I recoil from their blows. But never for a moment do I desire to fight back! There are occasions when the mood lifts from me in time, and I spring into action and dispatch these vagabonds. But more often they surround me and deal me blow after blow until it is far too late. \n\nAnd what happens next? Why, I die, of course! What else would you expect?\n\nYou mock me, Sancho, as you have mocked me before. I have told you of this before, of dying and reawakening moments before going into battle, and you have dismissed these as dreams, or fearful imaginings. But these moments of divine lethargy prove otherwise. At first, I regarded my deaths as failures, and grew frustrated at having to repeat the same battles. But now I have been blessed with divine understanding. My enemies are nothing before me, Sancho! Let them strike! Let them paint their wounds on my yielding flesh! I shall rise again, and again, and again, for they are but ghosts to me. There is no world permitted to exist in which they defeat me, and thus I have already conquered them. \n\nThis is no madness, Sancho, no wasting disease. This an unmerited victory granted to me from above. This is mercy given understanding. This is Grace. " ]	5
	[WP] Humanity cheers as the first Terran interstellar vessel reaches the beginning of the Oort Cloud. The pioneers on the vessel are far from jubilant, as sensors begin to relay a terrifying discovery: The Oort cloud is a barrier, and it marks the boundary of the "Sol System Quarantine Zone".	[ "Part One??:\n\nNear the New Seattle terradome, Cydonia, Mars\n\nValor-629 walked to the airlock of the small, discreet transport ship. A shadow was cast over the Martian land, bringing the best cover one could have without light-reflection cloaks. They won't need it. Valor was a Knight of Cydonia, the most prestigious and yet secretive military force known to man, but civillians already knew who they were. They were angels of protection to them. Normally the KOC soldiers were calm as hell, but Valor was getting giddy.\nThey were going to exit the Sol system.\n\nA hiss accompanied the sight of the airlock slowly revealing the interior of the Type-42 transport. Inside was ten seats, each on opposite sides of the ship. Above the aforementioned seats were Robin Hood rifles, designed by the University of Newton on Luna. They could hit a target an entire block away, and nobody would know. The shadow's source was now visible. A colossal structure, the size of New Seattle, was hovering above the futuristic, neon skyscrapers of the city.\nWritten in bold, white letters on the altered tungsten was it's name. Argo. ", "Divine Reach had been underway for about a year. The world watched as it's cumulative technological prowess made its way to the farthest reaches of the solar system. Tomorrow would be a national holiday as Divine Reach crossed into the Oort Cloud, and humanity would proudly claim it's first interstellar trip into the void.\n\nThe world watched and counted down. 10 billion citizens all in front of holo screens watching the counter at the top left of the screen. Divine reach was was less than 1000km from officially crossing over into the cloud. Then, it disappeared. The world collectively held its breath, the following minutes would be comprised of confusion, shock, and panic.\n\nTwenty five minutes lapsed still no sign of the Divine Reach. All of the holo screens went dark and flickered back on. The following message displayed in 90 languages across the world.\n\n\"Congratulations on your achievement of Interstellar technology, it is with the greatest regret we inform you that the Divine Reach has been commandeered and the crew purged. You reside in the Sol Containment System and we discourage any further ventures outside of it boundaries. If you do, be warned, repeat violations will be met with force.\"\n\nThe world mourned the loss of the ship and its crew, but would not for long. Military enlistments shot up 67% across the globe. Nations pooled their funds into research and development. The world leaders met in a dark confetence room in Geneva 122 days after Divine Reach disappeared. \"Gentleman\" said a tall muscled figure at the head of the table. \"As of right now, we are at war.\"", "The void. That is what we have looked up at night for millennium, wondering who was up there, if anyone at all.\n\nWe should have looked at ourselves.\n\n\nDECEMBER 31, 2099\n\nThe UNJSA Vernes flew towards the Oort Cloud, a large white mass amid the black and grey. Captain Eberhart stood at the bridge, viewing the comets and stars. But, something caught his eye. With a worried expression, he turned to the second in command and nodded. The second sent out two messages, one to the President, and one to another, one who lived much darker down below.\n\n\n----\n\nDr. Saab sighed as she walked to the deck. \n\n\"Captain, I've-\" She caught his worried expression, and followed his eyes to where they lay.\n\nA ship, impossibly sharp, floated in front of them. It was massive, looking able to hold thousands of people. Or weapons, she noted.\n\n\"Do we have any idea what it is?\"\n\n\"None.\" The captain said gravely, sighing. A blue light lit up on the dashboard, and Comms Officer Cathedral pressed a button, bringing an insectoid face onto screen.\n\n\"So the parasites have finally found their way to space, have they?\"\n stepped up, her blue jumpsuit reflecting the light from the bridge. \n\n\"My name is Dr. Akilah Saab. I am this ship's chief medical officer. What do you mean by parasites?\"\n\n\"Interesting. It appears you have still retained your immunity to it. Very well.\" It did what could only be likened to clearing it's throat. \"Many eons ago, an asteroid crashed to your planet of Sol-03. It wiped out the native inhabitants of large reptilian creatures. But, it also contained a parasite.\" A picture of a human brain appeared on screen.\n\n\"That's the human brain!\"\n\n\"You believe so. But the parasite, Nerousis, has hooked into your body, and has been there when you were first concived.\"\n\n\"How are we not affected?\"\n\n\"The human body has evolved a defense mechanism, one that is connected to your digestive system. With it, you fight off it's influence, and you have free will.\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"The appendix.\"\n\n\"A-and if it is gone?\"\n\n\"Nerousis has full control.\"\n\nA memory came to her, of the captain's medical report. He had his appendix removed at eight. His appendix...\n\nThe click of a safety turned off rang through her ears, and she fearfully turned around. Captain Eberhart gave a toothy grin, and shrugged. \n\n\"It doesn't matter any more. We have control of this planet. We will be free.\"\n\nThe last thing Dr. Saab saw was the flash of a gun, as it slammed into her stomach and through her appendix, obliterating it.\n\n----\n\n\nOn Earth, the same happened to billions of others, an unwitting army of mindless drones serving their queen. They took to ships, to military and civilian vessels alike.\n\nAnd they spread across the galaxy.\n\nOnly a few humans remain, staying on Earth. It's empty, even the animals gone in the mass exodus of brains. We are the ones who remain, the ones who will fight, and breed, and bring back humanity's golden age.\n\nAnd we will extinguish every last one of those Nerousis before they consume us again. ", "*PART ONE\n\n\"You are go for accel, Team Odysseus.\"\n\n\"Copy that,\" I replied, annoyed at the cheeriness in his voice. That brainless senator from the African Caucus. He'd been championing this whole mission as a publicity stunt, and insisted on giving us 'the important commands'. It wasn't like he knew what any of it really meant. As communications expert for the Extra-Solar Exploration Team, I got the unpleasant duty of trying to not sound annoyed at directions given forty minutes too late.\n\nWe'd begun the burn on schedule forty minutes earlier, and it wasn't like we were starting from a standstill. Who flies way the hell out there and stops* while some politico waits for the press to be in place so they can say 'go ahead and do what we've spent forty billion creds on'. Like we were going to turn around and stop at this point.\n\n\"Hey Cap!\" I yelled at Captain Silveira. \"Senator Batoni says we are go for accel!\"\n\n\"Gee ain't that nice! Did you tell him to roll a fat one for you?\" \n\n\"Oh sure. Cause he'd love that. Jerkoff'd probably try to fire me all the way out here!\"\n\nSergeant Kaklamanis butted in. \"I can see him now. Madam da Silva, you is much fired! Report back Huston now so we can revoke you access.\" His accent was pretty spot on. Sergeant K handled navigation and plotting, while Cap does most of the piloting. Everyone aboard--all six of us--could fly the bird, officially Terra Spacecraft zero zero niner five, but we all called her the Trojan Horse. Because we're Team Odysseus. Clever no?\n\nWe all chuckled at that, but sobered up as Sergeant K noted, \"Coming up on Oort transition in ten seconds, people!\"\n\n\"Yay?\" I shot back. \"Billions of dollars in funding, and humanity goes nuts. Meanwhile I can't get a decent glass of wine out here.\"\n\n\"Shut it, Silva. You're still just salty cause they found that bottle of '22 red that you tried to smuggle on.\"\n\n\"It's a good vintage! And they just poured it out!\"\n\n\"Get over it. You friggin Italians and your wines. Could you be any more stereotypical?\"\n\n\"Says the Greek guy that convinced them that gyros in space was a good idea? Don't think so, K.\"\n\nCap shut us both up. \"If you two don't can it, I'm assigning you to the same sleep pod.\"\n\n\"What? And put up with her getting all handsy with me?\" K complained.\n\n\"You wish.\" I wasn't about to let him have the last word.\n\n\"Not even a little bit, remember?\"\n\n\"You'd go straight for this.\" I gestured at my chest.\n\nCap turned as much as he could from the pilot position. \"Would you to cut it out? It's like having two twelve year old kids along. There's a reason I like being in space for the long hauls, and it has to do with the fact that my wife gets pregnant if I look at her with even a hope of getting frisky. I don't need to babysit you freaks too.\"\n\n\"Aw shucks, Cap, we love you too. I'll make sure to tell Tiago and Alexandro how much you love them.\" I couldn't resist the jab, but the truth was we all loved Cap and his absurdly large brood. Old school Catholic that boy, and living proof that the so-called 'rhythm method' is a crap way of avoiding pregnancy. \"Hey Wrenches, how'd your date with Fatima go?\"\n\nWrenches was our mechanical engineer. The guy that kept the bird flying when things inevitably went wrong. He was beyond simple genius, and had already saved our lives numerous times. He flushed deeply. It was an open secret that he had a thing for Cap's oldest daughter, Fatima. It was mutual too, and although Cap didn't mind, it still worried the shy engineer.\n\nCap shot me a dirty look, as he didn't like me harassing Wrenches, but I ignored it. \"Holy Shii----!\" We all looked in wonder as we entered the Oort cloud. After a moment I stammered, \"Cap, this doesn't look right, does it?\"\n\nHe took a few to respond, then cleared his throat. \"Ah, no. It's supposed to be a lot of icy comets and asteroids all jumbled up. Not this....what would you call that?\"\n\n\"Mist, sir.\" K's voice was a bit subdued. Atypically so. \n\nI disagreed. \"It's more like a really fine layer of dust.\" \n\nK shot me an ugly look. I stuck my tongue out at him. Mature, that's me. Cap gave up on us then, I think. Then it started. The broadcast. My earpiece squeaked hideously. \n\n\"What the he...\" I sat up more, and got to fiddling with my board. Then it stopped for a moment, then broadcast in plain English (why English?! Ameri-centric, that's what that is!), a voice stopped me cold. I gave it a quick listen, recording it immediately, then signaled to Cap.\n\n\"You need to hear this, sir!\" He shrugged. \"Play it for everyone.\"\n\n\"Ah...okay.\" I think he should have listened to it first, but he probably thought I was listening to the stupid Senator again. Ugh.\n\nI played it. \"Attention earth vessel. Please cut your acceleration and stand by for further instructions. Repeat, cut your acceleration and stand by. This is by order of the Galactic Infectious Disease Council. Your system is under quarantine. Do not attempt to leave. You have fifteen seconds to comply.\"\n\nCap didn't hesitate. He cut the accel instantly and we all felt the lurch as the illusion of gravity suddenly went away. I hate that sensation at times, but I'm pretty the real sinking feeling was that we, for whatever reason, had just tumbled into some sort of mess.\n\nK was the first to speak. \"Uh, Cap? What's the Galactic Infectious Disease Council?\"\n\n\"Damned if I know, K. Damned all to hell if I know.\"\n\nI wanted to say something useful. Instead I asked, \"Now what?\"\n\n\"Is there more to the message?\"\n\n\"Nada. O bicho nao esta falando.\"\n\n\"Cut the fakuguese, Silva. It's cute sometimes, but not right now.\"\n\n\"Sorry Cap. They aren't talking. Whatever they are.\"\n\nThen suddenly they were. I put it on speaker. \"Earth Vessel, thank you for standing by. By order of the Galactic Infectious Disease Council, your system has been quarantined for the containment of the following viruses: Conficker, Storm Worm, Simile, Mixing Glass, Apocalpyse 12.0, and numerous others.\"\n\nI couldn't help it. I laughed. Cap and K looked at me like I was insanse, but Wrenches was laughing with me.\n\n\"What's so funny Silva?\"\n\n\"You don't know those do you sir?\"\n\n\"Ah, can't say I have. Strange names.\"\n\n\"That's because they aren't organic viruses. They're computer viruses. Old ones too. Mixing Glass is the newest, and it's at least twelve years old.\"\n\n\"So, what? We've been quarantined because of a bunch of old computer problems?\"\n\n\"I guess.\" I didn't know any more than he did, but hey, if it made him feel better. \n\nThe broadcast picked up again. \"Please return to your system. A standard review of existing quarantines is scheduled at the next meeting of the GIDC in seven of your centuries. We will review the situation at that time. Any attempt to leave your system prior to that decision will result in containment protocols being enforced. Appeals may be sent via the usual methods.\"\n\n\"The usual methods? What in the name of the Mae Sagrada does that mean?\" Cap was breaking out old Catholic curses. Not a good sign.\n\nWrenches offered a suggestion. \"Maybe we can ask?\"\n\nI checked the frequency of the signal that had the messages. We could put that out. 14.5 gigahertz. \"Yeah Cap, we can send a message on that frequency. Bit strange, but I can match it. Gimme a mome.\"\n\nHe waited while I adjusted the broadcast settings. This was gonna take more power than I'd like, but since we'd planned to stay awake only for the transition out of the Cloud, then to deep sleep for the long haul out to Beta Centauri, it wasn't like we didn't have plenty. \"Ready, Cap.\"\n\nHe cleared his throat. \"Please accept our apologies. We are unaware of the standard protocol. Can you please clarify?\"\n\nWe waited. Hanging there in silence. After a few minutes, nothing happened. Wrenches finally asked. \"How long do we wait, Sir?\"\n\nCap shook his head. \"Hell I don't know. This isn't even a possibility that we'd considered. I guess we wait.\"" ]	4
	[WP] You are a detective in a land governed by a brutal dictator. Problem is: he's gone completely mad and now demands that you investigate on the weirdest things. The phone rings, you're allready afraid of what he may ask you to do this time...	[ "\"The suite. Now.\" \n\nDial tone. No time given for a response which can only mean this matter is urgent. Not important given General Cao's current mental state, but urgent none the less. \n\nI remove my holster, straiten my tie and put on 3 pairs of socks. The only aspect of my practice I've had to exercise in the past six months is keeping up my professional appearance. Some might consider last weeks interrogation tangentially related to investigation, at least until they discover that I was questioning a house plant about it's lack of flowering. General Cao said a formal court hearing would only prolong the inevitable. The plant is currently winding it's way up it's noose at the public gallows. I expect it will make a rather nice decoration in a couple more weeks.\n\nThird floor south over looks the slums that developed outside the capital building, which is why Cao's suite is on the north side. Making my way though the security check points leaves me slightly more disrobed and at the end I'm down to my single pair of socks I started with, no tie and a hole where my left pocket used to be. \n\nTwo armed guards stand in front of an embossed image of cavalry charging into a phalanx of spear men. They part as I approach and the image separates allowing me to push through the towering doorway. A fog of fake cuban cigar smoke hazes past my head as the door shuts behind me. The room is pitch black except for an oblong silhouette in front of the far window. I approach the desk slowly and take a seat on a stool that sits 10 inches off the ground in front of it.\n\nThe red upholsterer chair spins slowly to reveal General Cao's silhouette as a fat hand lifts a glowing orange dot to his face. The cigar illuminates his pudgy wrinkled face and I can briefly see something white cradled under his left arm.\n\n\"Shou. Thank you for joining me.\"\n\n\"It's my honor great general.\"\n\nSomething on the desk scuffs across and glass and ice shatter on the floor. The general gives a silent curse and a moment later a dim yellow glow fills the void between us. I can see his broom-bristle mustache and in his left arm is a tiny white dog. A Pomeranian of some kind that's shaking either out of necessity of fear. Probably both.\n\n\"Would you like a drink?\" He motions to the shattered glass on the floor while lifting up the other off the table and taking a sip himself.\n\n\"No thank you your excellence.\"\n\n\"Very good. Keeping a clear head for your work. I won't waste your time,\" He said and leaned back into his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. One of them was missing a shoe, \"Today I thwarted an attempt on my life. I need you to find out who it was who perpetrated this heinous action and bring them to me.\"\n\nThe color drains from my face. I hadn't heard anything about this! How could someone threaten our great leader in his own castle at the center of his mighty kingdom?\n\n\"My general. Are you ok.\"\n\n\"I'm fine, thank you. Quick and deliberate action saved my life.\"\n\nA case. An actual investigation to challenge me, for the good of the country! This hasn't happened in several years. The closest thing to detective work that I've had in the past year was discovering who was sending General Cao death threats last Christmas. (General Cao was sending General Cho death threats, as it turned out.)\n\n\"Tell me about it, please. To the best of your memory general.\"\n\n\"It happened this morning. You know of my routine?\"\n\n\"The generals life is much a mystery to even myself.\" I lied.\n\n\"I wake before dawn and bathe in my private quarters. Then I dress and address the public about current events.\"\n\nHe wakes up a 2p.m. bathes in the mermaid fountain outside and addresses his fish tank with current events. There isn't much of a public left.\n\n\"Did the attack happen then?\"\n\n\"Yes, after my shower I was clothed as you see now. When I went to put on my shoe my keen eye noticed it.\"\n\nI sucked in deeply, \"A poison needle,\"\n\nFor an agent to infiltrate and rig an assassins tool would constitute a major breach in security. Several of the general's personal bodyguards could be in on it.\n\n\"Worse.\" General Cho reached under the table and set his shoe up on desk. \n\nI looked carefully inside and smelled it before I saw the dark lump curled into the sole. \n\n\"Is that...\"\n\nHe looked at me and the Pomeranian before covering it's ears like a parent would with a child. \"Someone put s-h-i-t in my loafer\", and he went back to stroking the dog.\n\n\"Someone put,\" he startled and covered the dogs ears again,\"... poop in your shoe?\"\n\n\"Yes. Fortunately I saw it before putting the shoe on. As you know, I have gout and the risk of infection is much higher on my right foot. I've no doubt someone on my personal staff infiltrated and loaded the shoe in the night. I want you to find out who it was.\"\n\nMouth agape I looked at the Pomeranian while it trembled in his loving grasp. ", "As with the blind man and the guide dog, Marquis not only relied on my eyes, ears, and feet on the ground, he desperately required my aid in a different department, even if he didn't realize it. Instinct, he needed—the basic hard-wired drive to survive. This being because his inherent, human compunctions and urges were gone, shot, and no longer did he understand what it meant to be alive and sane, in the strictest sense. Along with the left side of his lower body, the chemical burns robbed him of a clear mind; made him hear echoes where none lingered, had him seeing ghosts in the shadows. He also suspected that the neighboring nations, specifically Mexico and Canada, were secretly operated by a race of highly-intelligent Chihuahuas, called the Xenoids. \n\nIn the short term, I had no overt recourse. I couldn't exactly suggest he speak to a medical professional. (This, quite obviously, would result in my very loud, very painful, very peculiar death.) But in the long run, each gentle reminder, every subtle suggestion—it all added up, guided him toward a destiny that ended with the least amount of destruction, the smallest amount of ash and dust for humanity to sweep up. \n\nIt also meant I had to bide my time, sate his every unaccountable whim just so I could inject my own rationale into the mix when the time came to do so—and though, yes, they arrived, these moments were few and far between. Just when I realized that either I would handle him, or no one would, was a mystery to me—though it was the truth. He had so many safeguards, so many M.A.D. measures in place, that every government on the planet feared for the God King's life. His destruction = Earth's destruction. All that could be hoped for was the man's gradual replacement: from violent, crazed despot into a weak, insane figurehead—with me, behind the scenes, making changes every chance I got. \n\nYesterday had been one of the good days, where Marquis had been more lucid than usual, less focused on the slithering who-zits or the floating whatchas. It had also been good because I was able to make a suggestion—and, being all-powerful in the eyes of the law, which he mostly wrote, he made sure every note I had was taken down by his council people and subsequently chiseled into the metaphorical tablets of Moses. I could see hesitation in the hands of his politicians, quivering as they wrote words they knew went against their master’s ever-changing master plan. But the pandering, simpering fools would sooner die than speak out against a perceived friend of the self-proclaimed God King—and perhaps a more instinctual side of them came to understand that this meant being one step closer to freedom, albeit an inch rather than a mile or even a meter. \n\nYesterday, the good day it was, had to come to an end, and the days after good ones are always the worst—for when Marquis falls, he plummets. \n\nIn my tiny office, in my tiny apartment, I sat behind the large, finely-crafted desk, cut from a single Giant Sequoia tree: a gift from the God King. A little light on the phone, this blocky, old, outdated thing, flickered yellow—its idle state. I’d been watching for an hour and a half, waiting patiently. \n\nAnd nothing less could be expected. \n\nIf I let it ring even as much as half of one full ring, he would give me the silent treatment, the cold shoulder for upwards of six days; and on his next good day, he might find it in his twisted heart, or whatever’s left, to “forgive” me. This “forgiveness” entails burning my apartment building to the ground while I am still inside and sending in a trained professional to rescue me, and only me. After the second time, and those four people died, I decided it was safer, for everybody else, if I just rented a small building in its entirety (being a God King’s lackey pays well) and kept to myself. \n\nI couldn’t imagine what might happen if I angered him on a bad day—I mean, I could, I just didn’t fucking want to. Luckily, up until this point, I had not disappointed him too greatly, and I was still alive…\n\nHere’s to hoping I didn’t just jinx it, I thought, and as if answering me with some sick, cosmic punchline, the phone rang. \n\nThe phone’s little light turned blue before it rang, and I was prying the receiver from its seating just as the first shrill notes began warbling out the speaker. “Good morning, God King Mar-Mar.”\n\n“Enough with the pleasantries, Delilah, I grow tired of your obsequious slime.”\n\n“This is Oscar, sir. Your private dick.”\n\n“You’re not Delilah. And what about my dick?”\n\n“Your detective, sir. I’m your detective.”\n\n“Obviously. But you’re not Delilah.”\n\n“No, I am Oscar, the detective.”\n\n“Right, I know. What is it?”\n\n“Sir?”\n\n“What is it you want,” he ground out, “you imbecile?”\n\n“Sir, you called me. You usually call after our meetings to assign me a case, something to investigate.”\n\n“Something to detect, yes, that would make sense. You do claim to be the detective, after all.”\n\n“I am the detective, sir, yes.”\n\n“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Ozcare.” \n\n“Os-” I cut myself off—correcting Marquis is one of things you teach yourself not to do, a simple social action which could spell your retirement from existence. \n\n“What was that?” he asked dangerously.\n\n“Nothing sir. Do you have a case in mind, something or someone for me to investigate?” \n\n“I’m afraid I do.”\n\n“Sir?”\n\n“Yes, you’ve noticed my grave tone—a good ear you’ve got, it’s not a surprise I have you on the TRY NOT TO KILL list. And you’ll have to forgive if I’m forgetting any rapporte we’ve built—I’m feeling very… obtuse, right now. Foggy, dulled. And this ties in to the mission I have for you.”\n\nChrist, I thought. He never calls them missions. I’m just an investigator, I can’t be doing missions. Shit. \n\n“You’ve gone very silent there, Ozcare. I need reassurances, I need you to say ‘yes sir’ when I’m building up to something.”\n\n“Yes sir.”\n\n“Better. But now I’ve lost my train of thought. Know that I am writing down every misbehavior, for when I am more myself.”\n\n“Sir you were introducing me to a mission you had in mind.”\n\n“Yes, good memory, too. I’ll have to ask myself to go easy on you.” I heard scribbling. “The mission, yes. Of course. Firstly, Ozcare,” he said, voice now strangely solemn, “I have some news: news you may not like, news you may not even comprehend. Please, seat yourself, but first shut every door and window, and make sure you are not bugged or being spied on.”\n\nI got up, moved some stuff around, made some noise, lifted chairs up and dropped them down. I made sure to do this quickly but loudly—I learned long ago that actions, solely For Effect, are key to surviving most of the tasks Marquis likes to assign his underlings. \n\n“It is done, sir. I have closed all the blinds, windows, and doors. I am sitting in the cold darkness. I have scanned the room, physically and electronically, twice over.”\n\n“Mm. And it may not even be good enough, at that. Still, you must be informed if you are to undertake this mission. If dangerous, even deadly parties are listening to us, possibly homing in on your location... well, then that is a risk I’m willing to take.” \n\nHow generous. “Yes sir.”\n\n“I can hear the willingness in your voice: you are ready for the news, yes?”\n\n“Yes sir.”\n\n“Good. Now, take a breath, son.”\n\n“Yes sir.” I made a big deal of breathing in and out, loudly. \n\n“The Xenoids have infiltrated my empire.”\n\nI coughed out the breath, struggling to choke down a laugh.\n\n“Yes, that’s right boy, feel free to cry.”\n\n----\nmight continue after I sleep 😔ZzZz\n----\nIn the meantime, if you liked this, you could [check out another story I wrote. :)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4j53cb/wp_the_final_boss_of_a_game_falls_in_love_with/d33udca)" ]	2
	[WP] Everyone is given a choice on whether to know how they die or when they die. What is your choice?	[ "I knew at the age of fourteen. The process was almost miraculous. At one point in your life you either knew how you will die, or when you will die. My parents knew too. It was plastered all over my face. Old age. That's what I told them.\n\nIf I had told them the truth, would it have changed anything? No, these intuitions are absolute. At times I've tried to escape my fate. I tried to deny it, but it was always wiggling around somewhere in the back of my mind. I worked hard in high school and college, but what use was it if you knew that it was all for nothing?\n\nAnd so, for most of my life I've set myself up for failure. Unlike most people, I lived certain that I was going to be miserable. Maybe I could've resisted it and ultimately prevent it. However, that was statistically unlikely. These things were absolute.\n\nThe rope wrapped around my neck very tightly. I felt it's bristles scratch my soft skin. I closed my eyes and fell, allowing it to carry me.\n\n\n", "Most people I knew chose to know when they would die. Knowing how seemed kind of morbid, and tended to breed an irrational fear and avoidance in the people who submitted a \"EX3-M -- Method of Expiration\" request. A guy at the office would no longer enter the break room for fear the coffee maker was going to shoot off the counter towards his throat, or suddenly blow up, despite the fact that his returned result of \"Food and Drink: Coffee\" most likely meant some sort of heart condition, based on all the caffeine he'd ingested before his Keurig-phobia developed. Most of the people who submitted EX3-Ms stopped driving. Some stopped going outside altogether. \n\nIt was popular to do the date-determining paperwork after your 40th birthday, since it was usually agreed that that was an average halfway point, and life was essentially set into motion, set in its patterns, by then. Recently, it had become popular to read the results at your 40th birthday party, so that you could, then and there, determine which birthday party would be your last one, and everyone could plan accordingly. Some had done it right when they turned 18, but it somewhat blighted that sense of immortality we all have at that age. At 40, you have a pretty grounded, realistic view of death and time. You're not surprised to imagine it happening to you.\n\nWhen I chose to know when I was going to die, I expected to see some date roughly 25-40 years down the road. I was of average health. Not a marathon runner like my brother or anything. Another 25-40 years were the average numbers my friends and colleagues were getting when they put in their \"EX3-D -- Approximate Date of Expiration\" requests. I thought it would be kind of helpful, and was actually kind of looking forward to knowing the date. I liked making checklists of things to do by the end of the day, end of the week, end of my coming trip to Germany in June. Making a list for things to do before I died seemed really logical, and like I could use my leftover time wisely, economically. I started typing up my list, and breaking it down into blocks of reasonable time. I expected to start making some goals, and meeting them until time was up.\n\nI didn't expect to see a date 340 years in the future. \n\nI didn't know what to say. I was alone when I saw it, so the only sound I uttered was a long inhaling of breath. I flipped over the tri-folded, mint-green paper, as if there might be a message on the back, like \"Accurate within 300 years.\" The department didn't make errors. The process was computerized, mathematical, certain. I didn't show it anyone, and quietly submitted the pages of paperwork again, putting the number 340 in the back of my head, grousing during the morning carpool commute that they must have fumbled my paperwork in the mail and the whole process was taking longer than expected. The other passengers agreed, adding their own complaints about the faceless, digital bureaucracy that handled the requests. \n\nWhen the letter came again, it confirmed what I admittedly already knew. I was going to die 340 years in the future. Long after anyone else in my office carpool. Long after anyone else in my family. Long after my marathon-running brother, who had predictably been forecast to live into his triple digits. \n\nI should have been more sad, or excited, or full of existential dread. But what really worried me, what really bothered me beyond the thought of watching those around me die as I persisted into an unknown future, was that I didn't know what to put on my list. Looking at what I had written so far, what I had arranged to fit within a few decades, I couldn't think of anything more. The rest of the page was blank space. What would I do? How long could I keep doing it?\n\nI deleted what I had written, and brought up a blank page." ]	2
	[WP] You have been hired on a large renovation project which is taking place in a cave beneath a mansion. Some of the specifications, however, leave you with some questions for Mr. Wayne.	[ "I clicked off the bandsaw and the noise was replaced by a high pitched squealing as the Butler dragged the kid in and shoved him towards me. Mikey was my sister's kid and kind of a shit to be honest, but I'd promised that I would give him a go with my crew on this Wayne job. He was already proving more trouble than he was worth. \n\nThe snooty Butler crossed his arms and fixed me with a look that reminded me of Sister Mary Magdalene from my school days at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Roman Catholic school in Brooklyn, where I had spent many unhappy days as a kid getting into trouble. \"Your boy was skulking around the manor again.\" He shook his head. \"We have a works agreement for a reason you know?\" \n\nHis clipped British accent only helped enforce the inferiority complex that I was trying to hide. I cuffed the kid around the head. \"What you doing in there Mikey? You freakin' stupid or something, what did I tell you about sticking with Paulie on the blasting job?\" \n\nHe shrugged. \"I dunno, I got bored.\" \n\n\"Bored?\" I slapped his head again. \"You were helping him rig up dynamite, how bored can a kid get?\" I turned back to the butler. \"Tell Mr Wayne I'm sorry about this, it wont happen again.\" \n\nThe Butler looked at Mikey and rolled his eyes. \"See that it does not. If Master Wayne were to find 'Mikey' where he should not be, then you might not get him back again. Or at least not the way you last saw him.\" \n\nThere was something weird in the way that he said it, but I just nodded and he turned on his heel and was gone. As soon as the door clicked shut I turned on the kid. \"You little numbnuts, I told your Ma I would give you a job and you mess me about like this? I should send you back to work with Cousin Danny on the shrimp boat.\" \n\nSuddenly Mikey came alive, his eyes gleaming with fight. \"I didn't want to come here anyway, I gotta career Uncle Louis, Ma just doesn't take it serious or nothing.\" \n\n\"Career?\" I laughed. \"Your little music tunes you play in your room? C'mon kid, you need to get real.\" \n\n\"I am and I don't need to be here working on your creepy old houses.\" He folded his arms and met my stare. \n\n\"Creepy? Then why are you wandering around it kid? Why not just do your damn job?\" There as just a moment where he broke and something showed through, something odd, almost like fear. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. \"C'mon kid, spit it out.\" \n\nThe passion returned. \"I saw something, okay, I just wanted to try to figure it out by myself.\" \n\nI cocked an eyebrow. \"Wha'da'ya mean you saw something?\" \n\nHe shrugged. \"Like a guy, all dressed up funny, in a costume, like one of those superhero guys.\" \n\n\"Like a damn... like a damn Superhero guy?\" I held my breath and counted to ten but it didn't stop me exploding in anger. \"You're chasing around after damn superhero ghosts while you're on the job?\" I clipped him around the ear again and he shied away from me. \"This is your last chance Mikey, or it's back to 3am wake ups and smelling of shrimp, you got me?\" \n\nHe nodded sadly. \"Just looked like a guy in a cape is all.\" \n\nHe looked so sad I couldn't help but laugh. \"Look, help me with this framework, we gotta install a road through a waterfall tomorrow and I gotta lotta work to get it just right.\" \n\nHe held the other end and I began cutting, trying not to let my anger get in the way. Honestly, guy in a costume, this kid had some imagination. ", "\"Ok Mr Wayne it says here you need a large garage and a drive way that goes UNDERWATER, opens up when u get near a proximity of 50m and has a giant super computer\"\n\nThe architect looking at Mr Wayne.\n\n\"Yes that's correct\"\n\n\"Okay and it says here you need a giant cage made out of kryptonite, may I ask what is kryptonite?\"\n\n\"Well Gerry, kryptonite is a green rock found in the outer reaches of space, I have a lot stored\"\n\n\"Sorry Mr Wayne I'm not sure any of my engineers have experience working with this type of material\"\n\n\"Gerry, I can be a project manager as well but this cave needs to be built 100% to specification. I need something that will hold doomsday as well, and some disability stairs that Alfred can go up and down in easily\"\n\nGerry noting all this down\n\n\"That's great Mr Wayne we'll take all the kryptonite training we can get. Sorry another question. These pods you ask for, they need to be vacuum sealed for suit protection... What kind of suits?\"\n\n\"Well Gerry I have a range of high quality tuxedos that I need stored. That's very easy to make I just need them inserted, Alfred and I can do the rest\"\n\nMr Wayne Glances at Alfred\n\n\"Oh yes of course Master Bruce\"\n\nGerry continues jotting down the notes \n\n\"Now it also says here you may or MAY NOT fight super villains and need this to withstand time itself\"\n\n\"Correct\"\n\nGerry looking concerned\n\n\"Any heads up on anything Mr Wayne, ya know my family needs to be kept safe and all\"\n\n\"No Gerry nothing at this time, oh I'll also need a giant four story hole dug out for my tower which I'll also keep my batmarine, I mean submarine\"\n\n\"Oh submarine very good, water too\"\n\n\"Mm what else do I need in the bat cave, I mean cave. Oh I almost forgot I'll need a Lazarus pit, a large swarm of bats in one area of the cave and a place I can store a t-Rex\"\n\nGerry confused at what he just heard\n\n\"I'm sorry Mr Wayne did you say t-Rex?\"\n\n", "\"Sir, I'm not sure we can do everything you requested.\" I said to Mr. Wayne. Along with being one of the richest men in Gotham, he also had a particularly strange sense of style. \"I understand the need to maintain the local habitat, but that's the twelfth bat attack this week.\"\n\nHe waved his hand in front of his face as he walked through the renovations, \"Don't be alarmed. They're simply protecting their home.\"\n\n\"Again,\" I was hesitant to bring up the matter to Wayne in the first place, but my workers safety was paramount, \"I understand. But we need to at least knock them out.\"\n\nHe shook his head as he leaned against one of the railings we had recently installed. \"No, leave them be. And they will leave you be.\"\n\n\"I--\" I shook my head, \"Yes, sir.\" When I turned to walk away, he grabbed my shoulder.\n\n\"How goes the renovations by the way?\"\n\nI turned back to face him, glancing down at my clipboard, \"We're making progress.\" I was about to lie straight to his face before I realized who he was again. I couldn't lie to the richest man in Gotham, let alone Bruce Wayne. \"Although, we've had some setbacks. The blueprints you gave us for the rotating underwater platforms?\"\n\n\"Ah yes, I bought them for a heavy price.\" He smirked slightly.\n\n\"Yeah, well you might want to get your money back. The blueprints are crap. The wiring needs to be completely redone and the specifications are off by a few meters.\"\n\n\"That can't be right,\" his smirk turned into a frown and he stood straight. \"Are you sure you're reading them right?\"\n\n\"Mr. Wayne, with all due respect, I've been a contractor for thirty-five years. I know what I'm doing.\"\n\n\"Well, like I always say, you learn and you fix!\"\n\nI nodded, unsure if Mr. Wayne was actually serious or if he was just joking around. Whoever he did buy the blueprints from was obviously not a certified architect, or engineer, or anything close to a person who can build. They were shit. Each and every one of them. But I wasn't about to tell him all of that.\n\n\"Along with that, the laboratory equipment you requested is backlogged. And some of those things you ordered, don't actually exist.\"\n\nHe tilted his head, \"Explain.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm not sure what a bat-heater is, but we don't have it.\"\n\n\"You've never heard of it?\" He laughed and gripped my shoulder. I winced. \"It's a small pad, in the shape of a bat, that heats or melts ice.\"\n\n\"Uh, sir, that's we call a torch. Just not bat-shaped.\"\n\n\"Oh. Well, that will do as well. Anything else?\"\n\nI glanced down at the board and nodded as I read off the list. \"I do not have a Batsaw, or a Batrope, or a Master Batkey. I'm not even sure what a Batcall is, but if it's what it sounds like, I don't want it near this place. And a Bat-Camera, which if I were to guess, is a bat-shaped camera?\"\n\n\"Oh no, just any camera will do.\"\n\nI looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. It wasn't my position to question the, uhm, obsessiveness of Mr. Wayne with bats, but I was also a little scared at the whole list. Along with that, we had signed NDA's when we signed up for the job, which I meant I couldn't tell anyone about the Bachelor's obsession.\n\n\"Well, don't worry about any of that for now. How about the security features?\"\n\nI smiled, it was actually one of the only things we weren't encountering problems with. \"That's going extremely well. We've set up motion sensors on the lawns as requested, steel and lead mechanical doors to each part of the Workshop, as well as entering the workshop. We even got the mechanical lift in the Southwest corridor to work, so now you can enter from your home.\"\n\nHe smiled, \"Perfect! I have one last addition for you to add to everything.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course. I'll add it to the list.\" Mr. Wayne handed me a small PDA and nodded. \"The installation process should be quite simple. It should do most of it itself. I just need the items on the list.\"\n\n\"Mr. Wayne,\" Alfred said from the other side of the Cave and the two of us looked up, \"You have a call waiting.\"\n\nHe smiled and nodded, \"I leave you to it!\" He walked away, \"Remember, three more weeks!\"\n\nI took a deep breath. We'd be lucky if we could finish in three weeks. And then just as he left I looked down at the PDA and began to read. \"The Agamemno Contingency?\" I took a look at the first item, then swung my head up to see if Mr. Wayne was still around. I took a deep breath, \"Where the hell am I going to get Kryptonite?\"\n______________\n/r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work!", "A thousand glistening eyes watched from the ceiling as I led Mr. Wayne through the construction site; the bats above didn't seem to be bothered by the constant noise of jackhammers and heavy machinery. I showed him the massive garage that we'd carved through solid rock, even though he had a perfectly good one full of Italian sports cars up above. I brought him by the helicopter landing pad, again carved through solid rock for no particular stated reason. What was he planning to do, fly it through the waterfall? But, he's the client, and he could afford it. At each site, he insisted on measuring the new caverns and spent a good amount of time fretting over each. \n\nWe entered the main chamber, where some tech guys from a different contractor were wiring up some sort of huge screen. The electrical cables being used were thicker than my arm, so whatever they were putting in would be using more juice than about a quarter of Gotham City. We proceeded further down the cave, past the twelve impenetrable \"panic rooms\" that Mr. Wayne had requested we build with the locks on the outside of the doors. Mr. Wayne had a few pointed questions about certain factors, particularly the EMP hardening that he'd managed to procure from a military contractor. I'd never done that sort of work, and he was concerned that it wasn't being done to specifications. \n\n\"I don't know,\" he finally said, looking around, \"I'm just concerned that this won't be sufficient for my needs.\" That was always the phrase he used; he never wanted to elaborate on what those needs were. The guys here on the crew had all put in money for a pool, trying to guess what those 'needs' were. Given Wayne's reputation in the tabloids as reclusive and crazy, most of the guys were guessing that this was some sort of extravagent doomsday shelter. The runner-up idea was that he was moving R&D divisions of Wayne Tech into his own basement. \"I might need to revise some of the plans,\" he finally said. \n\n\"Look, Mr. Wayne,\" I finally said as we reached the back of the cave, where an elevator was being installed going up to the manor library, \"I'm not one to pry or anything. I know that the contract came with a pretty strict confidentiality provision, including no-questions-asked.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Wayne interrupted me. \"It did. And if you find yourself unable to comply with that, then...\"\n\n\"Just hear me out,\" I said, speaking over him. He clearly wasn't used to being interrupted, much less by an employee. \"Have I ever mentioned my daughter to you?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"I don't believe so.\"\n\nI wouldn't expect him to remember even if I had. He was certainly a busy guy, and I was just one of thousands of people working for him. \"Sarah.\" From my wallet, I retrieved the picture of her from her fourth-grade picture day and showed it to Mr. Wayne. \"Super smart kid, let me tell you. And so curious about everything.\" My voice cracked; I didn't talk about her very often. \"She was on a school field trip last year, and, uhhh...\" A knot formed in my throat. \"And she was killed. Her bus was on the West Gotham Bridge when the Joker blew it up.\"\n\nHe nodded. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn't really know what to say either.\n\n\"Well, Joker was locked up a few days later. By the Batman.\" I thought I saw just the slightest twitch in his face, but the light down here can play tricks on you like that. Maybe it was just what I wanted to see; some confirmation of what I'd suspected since I first looked at the blueprints. \"Some other kid somewhere in Gotham is still alive because he put Joker in Arkham. If there was anything I could do to help him catch even more of these psychos, I'd do it in a heartbeat.\"\n\nThere was a terse silence between the two of us, though the cave was still filled with the bustling sounds of construction. Mr. Wayne crossed his arms and looked at me, almost daring me to continue. \n\n\"Well, anyway. Sorry for that unrelated tangent, Mr. Wayne. All I'm trying to say is that if there is anything in this job that is not 100% up to your standards, you just let me know, and I'll personally take care of it. And if that requires a little more elaboration on what you need, then I want you to know that you can 100% trust me. Just say the word.\"\n\nFor the first time since I was hired me for this job, he smiled. \"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind.\"\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] To my son, I bequeath the contents of the file New Folder on my computer...	[ "Three brothers sat in a half circle around the man behind the desk. Roger, the eldest brother, was the first to speak up, \n\n\"Um, sir? Why are we here?\" \n\n\"Surely you know,\" said the man, \" we are here to talk about your inheritance.\" \n\n\"Sweet,\" said James, the middle brother, \" but why are you the one telling us?\"\n\n \"I see why your the dropout\" the man behind the desk said under his breath, \"I'm your dad's lawyer, anymore questions?\" He said, aloud this time. \"No? Good, let's get this rolling,\" he licked his lips,\" ah, Roger, you get the house-\" \n\n\"C'Mon! Dammit, I wanted the house!\" Cried James. \n\n\"Shut up and let me finish,\" the lawyer said, \" you also get half of the family fortune.\" \n\n\"C'Mon already, what do I get!\" Cried James.\n \n\"Be quiet for 3 seconds and I'll tell you, after I tell the quiet one, Jaime, his inheritance, that is what you get for being rude.\" The lawyer sassily remarked, \"Jaime, you get the other half of the fortune as well as the Rolls Royce and the Lamborghini, I expect you are very happy with that. And finally, James, you get-\" he chuckles softly, \"- the content of the folder \"New Folder\" that is on this flash drive.\" \n\n\"Sweet, I think, what's on it?\" Asked James. \n\n\"No clue, that is for you to find out. Anyway each of you take your respective cases and collect your new belongings.\" Said the lawyer, \" also close the door on your way out.\"\n\nBack home:\n\n\"Alright, for today I'll let you guys stay, but tomorrow I expect both of you to be out, ok?\" Roger said.\n\n\"Ok,\" both other brothers said, as they split to their respective rooms.\n\n\"Now I can find out what's in this file,\" James said as he plugged the flash drive into his computer. Once the flashdrive loaded he opened up the contents, and searched up \"New Folder\". \n\n\"Oh Come On!\" He yelled, as he stared at the screen.\n\n\"What?\" Asked Roger as he barged in, until he saw the computer screen where he burst out laughing, because on the computer screen the search results for \"New Folder\" said \"84955295620472 entries\"", "The three young men sat silently, looking at each other through questioning glances after the lawyer spoke these words. Though he spoke for another five or six minutes, their focus never left the possibility of what may lie in the folder.\n\nTheir father, a reserved, quiet, cold man had never been particularly computer savvy. He never shared anything with them that may give them a clue as to why could lie within. More importantly however, the ambiguity of what \"to my son\" meant, as there were three of them. The whole ride home, the brothers discussed the matter. The oldest assumed the folder contained something that only meant something to one of them, or that if it contained anything of value they might share it. The middle brother, a spiteful, self-involved user, was certain the file would be for him and would probably be a message. The youngest brother did not care in the slightest, as he wanted nothing to do with his father in the first place.\n\nUpon arriving at the oldest brother's home with the computer, they set it up with a monitor, booted it up and logged in to the father's account, thankful that it did not have a password. To their astonishment, there was no background, no running programs in the bottom right of the screen, no icons anywhere, except the one in the dead center of the screen - \"New Folder\".\n\nExchanging inquisitive glances once more, the oldest brother took a deep breath, double-clicked the folder, and found one solitary file. It was a link titled \"onelasttime\". He double-clicked once more, and the video file opened itself in a browser window. Immediately, sounds that were all too familiar to the men filled their ears. An electronic drum fill, a synthesizer, and a deep-voiced redheaded man began to serenade them with the timeless words, \"We're no strangers to loooooove\". The youngest rolled his eyes and said \"sounds about right\", the middle child scoffed and looked the usual mixture of anger and defeat, while the eldest smiled with misty eyes. \n\nAfter a quick lunch, the two younger brothers departed. The eldest didn't know how to feel, since on one hand the lonely pit that often follows the death of a loved one was present, especially since his father was the only one in the family he ever really had any emotional connection to, but the emptiness was sharing space in his mind with a new emotion- a confusion of sorts. One last joke was all that was left of their father, one very out of character prank...one, very, very out of character... the man returned to the computer, booted it back up and accessed the folder again. He watched the video twice more. He wrote down the lyrics and searched for meaning in the ballad, anything that might mean something. After half an hour, he gave up, then almost immediately had a last-ditch thought.\n\nHe opened the start menu and navigated to an option called \"show hidden files and folders\". A transparent file appeared in the \"New Folder\" window to the right. He gulped, almost audibly. The file was called \"abouttime\". It was a txt file, which when opened had 4 lines.\n\nThe first read \"Banaba Island Treasure\"\n\nThe second was a line of coordinates, as well as the third, which also contained the phrase \"find Charles Montego\".\n\nThe fourth was simply \"I knew you'd find it.\"" ]	2
	[WP]"Where is your god now?" "Behind you."	[ "A Marine was taking college classes between his deployments to Afghanistan.\n\nOne of his courses had a professor that was an atheist and a member of the ACLU. One day the professor shocked everyone by walking into class, looking up and stating \"God, if you are real, I want you to come down and knock me off this platform, I will give you 15 minutes.\n\nSeveral minutes ticked by in silence, and when the 15 min. time almost expired the Marine got up from his seat, approached the professor and took a swing at him. But the professor, seeing the look in the Marine's eyes, managed to dodge, and though the platform wobbled around quite violently, managed to stay upright. \"15 minutes!\" the professor cried triumphantly, pointing at the clock. \"I've done it! Where's your god now?\"\n\n\"Behind you,\" the Marine said. \n\nThe professor turned to look, and the Marine immediately sucker punched him in the back of his head, sending him crashing to the floor. \"Ow, fuck!\" the professor said, holding the back of his head. \"What the hell did you do that for? The fifteen minutes were up, I already proved my point!\"\n\n\"But professor,\" the Marine said, \"if you didn't believe that God was real, why'd you even turn to look?\"\n\n\"Because I was afraid that another one of you religious nutcases was sneaking up behind me!\" \n\nThe Marine crouched down so that he was eye level with the professor. \"But I was right in front of you. All pissed off and ready to swing. And yet you turned around anyway. Because that moment of fear that there was something worse than what you were already facing? That despite all your bravado, the fear that there was a hammer behind you waiting to come down?\" The Marine's teeth shone in a grin. \"That's God.\" \n\n\"You're insane,\" the professor said, \"God doesn't exist.\" But his voice shook as he said it. \n\n\"Maybe I am insane,\" the Marine said, as the campus police came running through the door. He held his arms out to the side and let them drag him away. \"But maybe I'm right. What if this whole universe is mad, and you end up going to Hell for this? A mad God who raises up the lunatics and burns the rational in fiery pit! Because you don't believe in an orderly, meaningful universe, do you, professor? You believe in bone cancer for children and worms that eat out their eyes. And in the back of your mind there's the whispering fear: what if someone intended for all of this to happen?\n\n\"God's behind you, professor!\" the Marine yelled, as he was led out the doorway. The grin on his face was savage. \"God's right behind you!\"\n\nThe professor shuddered, and resisted the urge to look back. ", "I slumped to the ground. My legs couldn't carry me anymore. We had been fighting this war for years.\n\nThe battle around me had slowed; we were losing.\n\nHow did we get here? How did it come to this?\n\nFour years ago the Ancient God of War came to me in a dream and gifted me with magic. Giving me the ability to bend fire.\n\nMagic was rare on this world, only those visited by the Ancients like I was had it. \n\nMy king sought to use me to gain a foot hold in the southern region. I was forced into this. I never wanted to be here.\n\nI was a commoner before this. Making an honest living in the capital. \n\nBut the second that god came to me everything was changed.\n\nHe's come to my rescue more then once. Because for some reason he liked me. For some reason he enjoyed torturing me with this gift.\n\nI looked up at the man who held a sword he had crafted out of ice.\n\nAnother god favored him it seems. God of the Seasons it seemed. She seemed to like using Ice as her favored element.\n\nThe smile appeared on my fellow God Champion.\n\n\"Where is your god now?\" he said. He brought the sword back and was about to swing down to kill me. But as he swung the sword melted away, leaving only the hilt.\n\nThen I saw it.\n\n\"He's behind you,\" I said.\n\n---\n\nIf you want to read anything else I've written you can go over to /r/BlinsinWriting to see them!", "The god she chose to worship was not known as a kind god, or a merciful one. Her god was called a hellbringer, a destroyer, a being without morality. He was a god of fire, wind, and storm, and they called him a horror, a nightmare. She saw beauty in him. Perhaps it was simply blind gratitude for the night she escaped servitude-- a stormy night where the wind blew harsh and rain pelted into her cold, cold skin, and a tree in a forest burning with so much heat crushed her pursuers. When she saw the man with the long knife vanish under flames and smoldering bark, she whispered a prayer of gratitude to the air, and ran once more. She learned of her god the very next day, waking where she had collapsed next to an ancient and abandoned shrine. Trees still smoldered only a few hundred feet away, but no fire had touched the place she lay. She could not read the words carved into the stone and wood of the shrine. She could only read the pictures-- a tall, masculine figure in a long cape, arms spread over a burning world covered in clouds. Small figures cowered on the surface, people and animals alike paying homage to the regal figure stretched above them. She did not know what the writing said, but it was clear enough that he was more than mortal. In thanks, she spent two days cleaning the shrine, scavenging berries and herbs to eat. At the end of the second day, a crack of thunder startled a deer into a ditch directly in front of her, and her belief became like stone.\n\nThe faithless would have called the entire thing coincidence. She chose to believe it was his hand guiding her, his hand rewarding her willing servitude. Much later, her faith would be rewarded; she found her way in a world set against her, and became a paladin. She visited the shrine once more, and hellfire and storm became her tools. It was somewhat controversial, to those who knew of it; a god of such destruction should never be granted a paladin, they said. Paladins were meant to be good and righteous, organized and lawful, not bringers of destruction and chaos and pain. Still, she became his paladin, and never doubted her faith. In return, she wielded a power others trembled at. She was not as chaotic as they feared she would become; she used fire with delicate control, storm and wind with careful precision. She turned destruction into creation, and there was awe, but there was also anger. \n\nHow dare a blasphemer who spoke of Old Gods prove herself good. How dare she wield a chaos god's powers under the title and oath of a paladin. Fury brewed, but she wandered kingdoms, oblivious, secure in the knowledge that her god protected her. She prayed at the roadside, and built small shrines in his name; her painted renditions of the original shrine improved over time, and rocks and trees in her path became her canvases. At night, she sometimes dreamed of a tall figure leading her by the hand, or sweeping her into a dance. She was never afraid in these dreams, although when she woke she knew with blood burning in her veins and magical strength renewed that he had visited her. When he took her hand, she simply bowed her head and let herself be humbled and awed before him. He was her god, and she was his paladin. They never spoke, but touch and gesture told her all that she had hoped for. He cherished her, cared for her; she was his first paladin in millennia. She loved him, delighted in him; he was her reason for life. For a time, she lived in bliss-- certainly she struggled and fought, living a hard and unforgiving life as a deliverer of justice and assistance, but it was blissful, and there was nothing more complicated in her life than finding shelter each night and affording the paints she used for her shrines.\n\nThings came to a head when she earned her first converts. For the first time, a village asked her about the origins of her powers. The elders knew of paladins, but they were daring, and asked about her god. She spoke at length, unable to contain her excitement at others appreciating his blessings, and before she left showed them how to make the image from his shrine. When she left the village, most of the residents were eagerly practicing the image, with stone and steel and wood. She did not realize the import of what she had done, but others did. Eventually, those who despised her heard of it, and sought to end the rise of her god before it could begin. \n\nThey soon found that her blessing upon the village left it untouchable. Roaring flames and rushing water assaulted any who approached with intent to do harm, and the shrines littering the village only amplified the god's presence. There was nothing they could do. They abandoned the village and sought the paladin instead. It took them some time to find her, but in the end, they did, and took her off-guard. Drugged and bound, she was carried off. She woke under the earth, in a cellar kept dark and cold. The air was stale down there, and she could not taste it for long-distant storm clouds or feel the crackle of heat in her hands; the air was wet and chilled and stagnant, and in that first moment of waking, she felt desperately alone. \n\nThey confronted her, arrogant and crude. Spat insults and lies and sought to make her Doubt, sought to make her break her oaths to her god. In spite of all her loneliness and loss, she refused to do as they wished. They left her hungry, gave her little water, and mocked her. Their jeers fell on deaf ears as she etched a shoddy image of her god's shrine into the ground. When she finished, she felt something inside her click back into place, the loneliness vanishing into the air like smoke. She raised her head as she finally remembered that her captors spoke to her; the man above her leaned in, his breath putrid with the smell of fish, and asked, laughing, \"Look at you! Bound and helpless and no one is saving you. If your god cherishes your servitude so closely, where is he now? If you think--\"\n\nShe interrupted, eyes wide and filled with wonder as she stared over his shoulder. There for just a flicker of a moment, she had seen-- the tall figure, dark and shadowed, face hidden under his cloak. It could only be him. \"Behind you,\" she rasped, her first words in that dungeon. Her answer was both the first and last thing she said to her captor; he turned, startled, to look, and the room was suddenly engulfed in flame. The stagnant air whipped and tossed about her head, the roar of flame filling the room and sucking down the oxygen like a starving thing. For a long time she simply stared at the pillar of fire before her, remembering the night a tree fell in the path of a monster shaped like a man. His flames reflected in her eyes and she stood before him, fearless and dizzy with joy. She only broke free of her trance when her god burnt his way through the door that held her prisoner, flames licking harmlessly at her hands as he turned her bindings to ash.\n\nShe rose from the cellar of a burning house, untouched by ash or soot, and stayed silent, bearing witness as her god burned bright around her. The screams of her captors echoed in the air but she could not hear them over the roar and whisper of her god's fire. It was fall and the air was crisp but she did not feel it, bathed in the heat of her god's fire. By all rights, the temperature alone should have killed her. It did not. The men that sought to destroy fire died, and the fire fell away. A thick cloak brushed over her shoulders, and the smell of charring flesh was replaced by the thick scent of rain. Weakened by the separation from her god and her hunger, she fell into his embrace.\n\nShe woke a week later in the first village she had converted, wrapped in silk cloth beneath a towering shrine. Her god was gone from the earth, but his power boiled beneath her skin, and the story was already spreading. The land that had been destroyed by his wrath was consecrated by a missionary she had converted months before, a temple built around the ash and soot. The tale rose in popularity, the dramatic irony of her captor's death and the visceral destruction her god left in his wake catching the imaginations and hearts of the people. Shrines spread, oaths were taken, and in the way of legends tales of the First Paladin were told and retold until the country, once ravaged by internal disputes and vicious segregation, fell into a single fold, united under fire and storm. The castle came to be painted with a massive mural of the shrine-image the paladin endlessly repeated. \n\nIn the midst of such change and fame, the paladin was fed by the elders of the village, and worked the silk she woke in until it was a cloak heavy with embroidery, the image of her god gazing darkly out from her back. Where is my god? Behind you, and behind me, and no, he never leaves. \n\nShe dreamt of him often, even as other paladins were granted power and attention. He visited her almost nightly as she traveled, leaving warmth in the hearts of the people she helped and turning the hearts of the cruel to ash. Her journeys were more than ever fearless, for her god was with her, and no man could stand to his wrath. \n\nIn this way, she became a legend, and in the way of legends, she did not die. She disappeared, leaving questions and prayers in her wake. The kingdom and paladins could manage themselves; home called to her now, when she grew old and weary. Her only home, in the forest, a faded shrine under the long branches above. A fire god's shrine with wooden roofing and a wooden carving, and just enough space within for an old woman to curl. She lived there for years; she provided for herself, and her god lent his aid only when times grew hard. Together, they lived in harmony, comfortable, content.\n\n---\n\n(Part 1/2 - I wrote too much ;w;)", "Hernan strode across the mossy cobbles of the courtyard, his ragged cloak fluttering meekly behind him. He had, of course, brought a dozen spares, in various styles and colors, from the port in Gibraltar. Alas, that bit of trouble on the causeways saw them at the bottom of that accursed lake. No matter. \n\nThe oiled leather of his cuirass creaked in time with the beat of his hard leather boots against smooth stone, canopy filtered light splaying grotesque shadows over the oversized steps of the pyramid. His ascent spoke of purpose, his mouth showing stoicism in his task. His eyes, however, they burned. Burned with the passion of a new war, the childhood stories of El Cid being propelled by God, even in death, against the heathans underlining this passion with visions of grandeur. \n\nAs the self styled conquistador entered the surprisingly small room at the top of the edifice, his scabbarded blade bouncing off a pillar, he paused. In part to allow his eyes to adjust to the smoky light thrown by the turtle fat candles, but also to catch his breath. The amount of treasure crammed in around the brown man would fund Hernan through all his political machinations, buying the loyalty of an army with it. \n\nHis eyes turned to the man. No, the savage. The leader of savages. The snake worshiper that sent cowards in he night, slinking as jaguars through the jungle, to poison his rations. The beast responsible for Juan passing from the mortal coil. \n\nWhile they had been in this hell and strange insect Juan had been his only comfort. The man had suffered greatly on the voyage west, but had flourished once they landed in the Indies. Taking samples of plants, sketching animals, he had gathered information vast in both breadth and depth, preparing a missive for the Holy Father and Isabella, Queen of Castile. He had approached these tasks with the focus and fervor that only a monk could summon form such mundane tasks, but a dedication that had impressed and awed Hernan. \n\nThe places where the lash of self flagellation had touched his back tingled as thoughts of forbidden live flashed through Hernan's mind. Juan had also puzzled out much of the tongue of these vermin, and Hernan put those insights to work here.\n\n\"Stand.\"\n\nMontezuma rose, his broad shoulders covered with an ostentatious display of Wiley vibrant feathers. The Spaniard took a step forward, mulling the demon's appearance and choosing his words carefully. He did not have mastery of the tongue, and suspected he stumbled through his words as a toddler.\n\n\"I. I take this.\" Cortez swept his hands over the gilded pots and knuckle sized emeralds. \"They, and you, mine.\"\n\nThe Aztec stood there, no emotion showing on his face, except the smallest glint of a smirk. Cortez felt the holy rage boiling in his chest at the man's presumptuousness. \n\nHe lunged forward, the lobsters steel of his gauntlet making a sick, wet noise against Montezuma's head. The heavy, backhanded blow knocked him prone. \n\nCortez drew his sword, and slashed it across the thick engravings of the beast demons these savages passed off as gods. He sneered at the prostrated man before him, shouting in passable Aztec,\n\n\"Where? Where is your God now?\"\n\nMontezuma's eyes creased as he begin to chuckle. This only served to enrage the Spaniard further, and he rammed the point of his sword through the other man's stomach. \n\nMontezuma stopped laughing, but the mirth in his eyes did not flow out through the wound with his life's blood. \"Behind. You.\"\n\nThe sudden sound of rustling feathers startled the conquistador, his blade nearly disemboweling the Aztec as he swung it wildly at the presumed source of the noise.\n\nThe blade shattered as it met a fang of Quetzalcoatl. Before this loss of a family heirloom registered with Cortez the flash of ivory and the dark purple of tongue snuffed his life on the temple floor.", "I was waiting on Jabal to save me, certain he would come in to save the day, but instead found myself having great doubts about him having my back.\n\nOn my knees at the back of a large, mostly empty shack, my hands were tied in front of me. Various items cluttered the ground- newspapers, magazines... shell casings. Near the door, leading out into the hot Somalian sunlight, a man paced back and forth, with an old lever-action shotgun slung around his shoulder. His dark skin dripped with sweat. Occasionally he screamed into a walkie-talkie in some language I didn't understand.\n\nWhat I did understand, which he made perfectly clear to me, was that I was not getting out of here without a divine miracle. What started out as a Catholic mission trip went south when a few of us decided to enter a war-torn village. It just so happened that some al-Shabaab splinter was looking for the perfect opportunity to kidnap a westerner and hold him hostage.\n\nGoing on a missionary trip to Somalia was the first mistake, really. But that's beside the point.\n\nThe man, whose name I could only ascertain was Ahmad, took the time to taunt me every once in awhile. He said I would get my brains blown out unless my infidel friends decided to pay a ransom. I was determined to modify those options. My tour guide, Jamal, was from Angola, having grown up in their civil war. Having come to Somalia to provide humanitarian aid, he was no stranger to conflict. And when he saw my helpless figure being dragged through the market by a bunch of strongmen with guns, he screamed that he'd be there to help. And that's what I was counting on.\n\nMy thought was broken by another tirade of screaming by this terrorist man.\n\n\"Hey, American! Filthy infidel! I kill you!\"\n\nHis spit flew into my face as I stared down my captor, coldly. I didn't react. I didn't need to. Because sneaking up behind Ahmad was the shadowy figure of a slim black man, holding a knife by his side.\n\n\"Where is your Jehovah, American? No! There is only Allah! Only the true God can save you!\"\n\nNow right behind Ahmad, completely unnoticed, Jamal looked at me and winked.\n\nAhmad looked me right in the eyes and sneered.\n\n\"Where is your God now?\"\n\nI chuckled a bit.\n\n\"Behind you.\"\n\nHis face turned to confusion, and he turned around, only to meet seven inches of cold steel in his chest. Jamal brought Ahmad close as he stabbed him.\n\n\"Deus Vult,\" I heard him say. He wiped the blood off his shirt and knelt down to cut my bindings. \"And I say that in all honesty, Adam. I had to meet your standard of being dramatic.\"\n\n\"Oh, come on,\" I laughed. \"Not even a 'are you okay'?\"\n\n\"That doesn't matter, what's more important is the cheesiest line I've ever heard in the face of danger.\"\n\n\"He was asking for it,\" I said, standing up. \"He really made it movie-esque.\"\n\n\"Where's you God now? Eh? Eh?\"\n\n\"Right behind you...\"\n\n\"Seriously? Of all the things you could have said?\"\n\n\"Well, it's more like the holy spirit. In all of us, y'know. That manifestation of God.\"\n\n\"Oh, is that modalism I'm hearing? Filthy heretic.\"\n\nWe both laughed and walked off to rejoin the group.", "She was trapped, pushed back into a corner that she knew she couldn't fight her way out of. Her magicks were failing her, and the adrenaline that had been driving her was fading, leaving her limbs shaking with fatigue. The Inquisitor stood before her, a thin line of blood (her own) draining along his sword to drip on the stone floor. Even with the dire circumstances facing Farrah she couldn't help her bloody rictus grin.\n\n\"You're cornered, witch.\" There was no rancor in the Inquisitor's voice, no disgust in his expression. He was truly a model soldier, she thought with bitter delight. \"Your compatriots are dead, and you are to join them. This is your last chance. Recant your allegiance, and perhaps you will find solace in the afterlife.\" That was always what it came down to. Everyone was always so concerned about which god others worshiped, though the Inquisition was the first who had dared actually _do_ something about it. This was unfortunate for Farrah and her brothers and sisters in the Cult of Typhan. At best they were considered untrustworthy, thieves and assassins, charlatans and murderers. To the Inquisition they were the poster children of evil, everything that the Pantheon despised.\n\n\"My god has always been there for me, Inquisitor. Can you say the same of yours?\" She could only be truly curious. Whatever choices the Inquisitor had made to lead him to this confrontation, she could not judge him. Likewise he had little room to judge her, though that didn't seem to stop him. The Cult did not preach acceptance, but it did preach incomprehensibility. Truth was fluid, always impacted by the perceptions of those that witnessed it. To claim to know another well enough to judge them was ludicrous.\n\n\"If you are such a favorite of your vile god, witch, where is he now?\" Was that a trace of humor in the man's voice? Certainly not. That would almost make him _human_, and no Inquisitor would dare give that impression.\n\nThe woman's mind was racing, but the enemy's words gave a no-doubt unintended clarity. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, focusing on something over the Inquisitor's shoulder, and the unnatural wide grin turned into something softer, an expression reserved not for a hated enemy but instead a beloved idol. _\"He's behind you.\"_ For the first time since the hunt had begun Farrah saw the Inquisitor hesitate. It was as though she could see the wheels turning in his mind, his eyes losing their distant glassy sheen and the smallest hint of fear taking root.\n\nHe whirled on the spot, raising his shield against a foe that wasn't there. In that moment of folly Farrah leapt forward, utilizing the last of her strength to drive her small stiletto into the gap between the Inquisitor's armor, the hollow of his armpit. It was a clumsy blow, a last desperate attempt to survive. It was the wrong side for a killing blow, and he seemed hardly incapacitated as he turned on the spot, bringing his elbow sharply into her jaw and sending her flying. Pain etched his face, and he fell heavily to one knee as the injury and his momentum conspired to overwhelm him.\n\nFarrah's mind was cloudy from exhaustion and pain, and a wave of fresh blood across her tongue nearly made her retch. Instead she staggered to her feet, taking advantage of the brief distraction her knife had provided. No doubt she would be followed, by this Inquisitor or another equally eager hunter. That did not matter. For now she was alive. So long as she drew breath the Pantheon had not won. It did not matter how many of her brothers and sisters had been slain. This battle was lost, but the war itself still raged on.\n\n---\n\nAwesome prompt. You can read all of my replies to prompts at /r/watisthisidonteven.", "The King approached his captive, plucking a grape from his servant's tray.\n\nThe King examines his naked prisoner top to bottom, and smiles mockingly. \n\n\"Well,\" the king taunted arrogantly \"I warned of these consequences, slave. Did I not?\" \nThe king crosses his arms behind his back, and continues\n\n\"I took your wife. I took your children, and I took your home. I took everything from you,\" his lip curls in anger. \"Yet, here you are. Laid bare for all to see, and still you disobey my rule by worshipping that false deity.\" \n\nThe captive man listens but his head remained bowed. \n\nThe king places his hand underneath the prisoner's chin and meets his gaze. \n\n\"Look at me, when I speak slave.\"\n\nThe man looks, but remains silent. \n\n\"I am a generous king, and offered you many chances to change your grotesque ways,\" the king examines his fingernails.\n\"Yet, you disobeyed me. I am afraid the consequences of your actions must be brought to fruition,\" he puckers his lips and thinks with twisted intentions.\n\n\"Men, remove his eye so that I may see his god the way he does.\"\n\nHis men remove the prisoner's eye. \nThe prisoner grimaces in agony, but his voice is not heard. \nThe men place the eye in the king's hand. \n\nThe king examines his eye, closely. \n\n\"All I see is wasted potential,\" the king plucks the eye into his pet tiger's cage. \n\n\"Think of the things that you could have accomplished, all of the accolades you could have aquired if you simply put your faith in man, rather than false gods.\" \n\nBlood drips from the prisoner's eye and onto the floor. \n\nThe king pauses, for a moment and continues. \n\n\"Before I end your miserable existence. I offer one final question.\" The king pulls the prisoner to nose-length distance. \n\n\"Where is your god, now?\" He says deeply.\n\nA tear falls from the prisoner's remaining eye.\n\"I begged of you, to stop. When you took my wife, I pleaded with you. When you took my family, I begged of you,\" \nThe prisoner's lip quivers and his voice falters. \"When you took my home, I was on my knees. Now, you have taken my clothes, but I do not plead with you,\"\n\nThe prisoner bows his head and exhales remorsefully. \n\n\"My God, is behind you.\"\n\nThe king jerks his head back quickly.\n\nThe sound of death echoes throughout the room as men choke on their own blood, and the palace is painted crimson.\n\n\"And He is angry.\" ", "From Pin's Account of the Revelations of Iono:\n\nWe entered the city of Ea shortly after the warmest hour of the afternoon. We were caked with dirt and sweat and though I begged Iono to carry more of his burdens he refused. Through his commune with the God Iono had come to this place carrying a jug of water and a shoulder bag full of rocks.\n\nThe governor of Ea at that time was known to be a cruel man, and we walked wordlessly through slave markets, filthy slums, and estates of plundered wealth before we reached the governor's mansion, which was most ostentatious of all. Iono asked politely at the gate to see the governor and, as was his way, did not wait for a response. The guard moved to stop him but he had heard tales of Iono's direct link with the God and feared to touch him.\n\nSo it went with each inner gate. No one feared Iono more than the ungodly.\n\nWe finally found the governor waiting in his courtyard. He sneered at Iono as he lounged in a low chair. \"You'll come no further False Prophet,\" he said. \"My guards fear you but I don't. Your supposed holy blood will drip on this grass and the people will see that the strong rule, not your fantasy.\"\n\nIono smiled. \"I have no need to come further. I am where I am supposed to be.\"\n\nThe governor grew angry. \"Have you any room for sense in that brain? How can people listen to you when you just spout inanities?\"\n\nIono laughed. \"I wonder the same thing! But I have found they are mostly listening to the God. So I try to speak quietly.\"\n\nAs he spoke he approached the governor. The archers who stood behind the pillars drew their bows back. Weak in faith as I was, the sound set my teeth on edge.\n\n\"Not a step further, soothsayer,\" warned the governor. \"We wouldn't want any...accidents.\"\n\nIono grew serious and his placid grey eyes examined the man before him. \"I come with a message from the God. You may think of it as prophecy or soothsaying. I would call it advice.\"\n\nHe looked down and there was a seedling growing in the grass. How that seed blew into the governor's courtyard and found purchase in its dusty soil is a story not told to me. Iono crouched down and set his jug of water next to the seedling. \"This is your faith, governor. It is also your God's faith in you. I water it now, to show you good will.\" He tipped the jug over the seedling and allowed a bit of water to splash onto it. \"You must do the rest. Water it every day and it will grow tall and mighty.\"\n\nThe governor laughed harshly. \"Of course, so simple, why would I do anything else? Are there more magic seeds in your bag?\"\n\nIono smiled and shook his head. \"The bag is full of heavy stones. The burden of office lies lightly upon you now. These stones can remind you of it. Wear this bag until no person under your protection feels hunger.\"\n\nThe governor's smile broke, and his face began to redden. He rose to his feet slowly. \"You seek to lecture me on my duties? You wish to accuse me of negligence? You are an even bigger fool than I thought. Seize this man!\"\n\nGuards came out from behind the pillars and one grabbed each of Iono's arms, dragging him back towards the exit. Two more grabbed me, though they were unsure of where to drag me. \"Wait,\" the governor called. He approached the seedling, ripped it out of the ground, and walked over to Iono. He shoved the seedling and the handful of dirt that came with it into Iono's face. \n\n\"Where is your God now?\" asked the governor.\n\nTo this day I am unsure if the tree grew up in front of my eyes or was just there, suddenly, as if it had been in the courtyard for decades. In either case, it was there. And Iono said \"Behind you.\"\n\nHowever the tree got there, I saw only a tree. Years later I was able to track down one of the guards, and he swears he saw only a tree as well. I know not what the governor saw. I only know that the face that turned away from the tree was not the face that had turned toward it.\n\nIono walked lightly out of Ea, having left his burdens with the governor.\n" ]	8
	[WP] " I thought that by becoming the world's greatest evil, a worlds greatest good would rise up. Turns out I was wrong"	[ "When I was a child, my parents were taken away from me. \nOf course by that time, I hardly knew them. \nI was mostly found in the alleyways, starving and condemned \nTo live in the slums and make food from scraps of debris.\n\nThey were killed by a druggie, \nJust some random Joe off the side of the street. \nIt wouldn't be too bad on its own, but he left it incomplete. \nI remember, when I got home, he began to flee.\n\nThey were lying there on the carpet \nWith their blood staining the floor like red wine. \nBy the time I found them, they both began to flatline, \nAnd while I could do something, I did nothing to stop it.\n\nWith a few millions and a couple decades, \nI became the thing that catalyzed my life. \nBecause, like me, the world won't change without strife, \nJustice is an issue your common politician evades.\n\nOf course the people cried against my conquest \nBut it was surprisingly easy. \nI found that those who were vehemently against me \nDodged the draft while their armies fought without rest.\n\nI thought that by becoming the world's greatest evil, \nA \"World's Greatest Good\" would rise up. Turns out I was wrong. \nI slowly took control of the world, from New York to Hong Kong \nWhile the people did nothing to stop it.\n", "When you have a device that can render the Earth’s crust apart, making the entire planet one huge volcano, people tend to give you the keys to stuff.\nNo more America, no more Russia. No more Spain or England or Thailand or India or Angola. There’s just me. In charge of everything. It’s harder than it looks.\n\nIn the beginning, I fully intended to sacrifice myself.\n\nI saw the world descending deeper and deeper into chaos. Riches over wellness, constant bloody squabbling over which imaginary man in the sky is better. I saw a species in the grip of tribalism, and what better way to bring the tribes together than a common enemy?\n\nThat was supposed to be me. When I issued the threat of end times and demonstrated on an uninhabited atoll in the Pacific, it was supposed to be a call to unification. Muslims and Catholics were supposed to stand hand-in-hand and say, “We may have our differences, but we’d both like to have a planet to live on.” Instead they doubled down on their violence, citing passages in their respective books to show how the other was responsible for my arrival.\n\nThere was supposed to be a hero or two. Someone who could, in slaying me, unite the world under a banner of self-reliance instead of the usual leadership message of us vs. them. There were a few half-hearted attempts, mostly by delusional fools seeking notoriety. They wanted to be able to brag about taking me on so that legs would spread around them. None were worthy, so I destroyed them.\n\nI expected governments to react for the welfare of their people, to put aside their differences. But when no one country took the lead, they all pointed fingers at each other. Some governments and corporations reached out to me to offer their alliance, to see what they could do to help me. I could read between the lines. What they really wanted to know was how they could make money under my leadership.\n\nSo I severely overestimated my fellow man. Ah, well. I can’t really say a whole lot’s changed under my leadership. Large groups of people still squabble, huge industries still exploit their workers and customers as much as they can get away with. People still kill each other for no damn good reason.\n\nI suppose I’m along for the ride as much as anyone else. Sure, the world is nominally under my control, but how much can one man actually control? You have to delegate, and the more you delegate the more you dissipate your control.\n\nSo I really have two options. I could destroy the world anyway. Or I could live the good life. A little corruption never hurt anybody, huh?\n\nWhat to do, what to do?" ]	2
	[WP] An advanced and benevolent alien race keeps all the races of the galaxy living in peace. This peace is, when necessary, enforced using a single, devastating weapon, but the weapon doesn't kill or injure anyone when used.	[ "There has been peace on Edoras for as long as history recorded. This was about to change. \n\nThe Edorians were natural rulers, but they did not rule. Not really. They were almighty peacekeepers. Of all of their ingenuity and might, the Edorians possessed a single ability that set them apart from everybody else, and that gave them an unfair advantage in the race to the top. \n\nEdorians are born with the ability to see consequence to actions. \n\nNow, this varies in strength, length and span. An action, or inaction, could cause the weakest nudge towards an outcome (strength). Hiding a secret well could lead to consequences a century after (length). A decision made in the position of power could lead to repercussions across the galaxy (span). \n\nThis means that the most powerful Edorians of all are those who are adept at seeing in the way that compliments the nature of their decisions and those of others they are surrounded by. \n\n“Edoraaaaaasss!” General Eugene yelled with all his might.\n\n“Oomph!” a reverberating wave of sound was thrust from the army that stood before him. \n\n“We have been lying in wait, harvesting power for the longest time. Tell me, which of you cannot wait to see their towers fall and their blood trickle to the ground in golden flames?” \n\n“Oomph!”\n\n“This is the day that we will take Edoras for our own!” \n\n“Oomph!”\n\nThis is the Leonaya, speaking to you directly on behalf of all Edorians.\n\nEugene lifted his head to the skies as a shiver travelled down his body, towards the planet of pure sparkling gold that shone in the sky. It was almost as bright as a star. “King Leonaya,” he spat under his breath.\n\nWe have watched you carefully. We had hoped that we could avoid direct intervention. And now, reality has given us the answer.\n\n“Edoras! The Witches’ Eye!”\n\n“Edoras! The Witches’ Eye!” the army echoed in unison. \n\nYes, Witches’ Eye. That’s what you call what we see in our bones and feel against our skin. You wage war in its name. It seems that enough time has passed. Very well, we will let you borrow it. \n\nThe results were immediate. An army of warriors, pumped full of hormones in anticipation of war, fell on its knees more literally than figuratively.\n\nThere were those who sobbed, there were those who lost their consciousness from the shock. Above all, they screamed for it to stop. \n\nMere moments gave them a lifetime’s worth of excruciating awareness. The pain of loss, the regret of what could have been, the numbness of imminent death that would only be accelerated by their decision to attack Edoras.\n\nYou have screamed to return the treasure that you had sought. Now you’ve seen as we see. There is nothing more that you seek from Edoras. Come and visit with the purest of hearts, or leave us be. Remember what you’ve seen and tell them in stories to your children, so that they will not have to see it too. I shall take my leave.\n\n---\n\n2nd drafts eventually go [here](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com).", "For the human colonies in the Delta quadrant, the G-23 virus was an unending nightmare. At first, humanity had been hopeful that it could triumph over the virus – after all, humans have considerable tenacity – but when trillions of dollars and decades of research failed to find a permanent cure, and a whole generation of colonists had been put through hell, people began to doubt. Even the human spirit has its limits. \n\nAnd then someone discovered that the G-23 virus had been engineered, that this entire dark chapter was a massive act of bio-terrorism. Overnight, humanity discarded its depression, became shocked, then discarded its shock and replaced it with insatiable fury. They wrung the universe to find the makers of the G-23 virus. And found them: The Barbarblaxians.\n\nHumanity brought their evidence before the Federation. A rather civil response, which was surprising given how poorly humans responded to first contact. Anyway, it took a decade of trials, but the Federation eventually reached a verdict: the Barbarblaxians were guilty, and for it, they would undergo Reformation. Humanity was pleased with the verdict, but felt the punishment didn't go far enough. Reformation was a completely non-violent process, not at all befitting the horrors the Barbarblaxians unleashed on human colonies, argued humanity. The Federation politely reminded them that eye-for-an-eye justice was not civil, and humanity begrudgingly agreed.\n\nAnd then, three days later, a human fleet decloaked over Barbarblaxia Prime and leveled half the major cities on the planet before being stopped. Many ships had to be stopped violently. The Federation, in one of its shortest trials ever, determined humanity was guilty and it too needed Reformation. Humanity, for its part, stoically accepted the charges. They always did have a proclivity for martyrdom. \n\nReformation is a massive undertaking. Fortunately, it doesn't happen often because most species would do nigh anything to avoid it. The process begins with some incredibly sophisticated technology; DNA is harvested from members of the offending species – in this case humans – that material is used to make offspring, and then the offspring are released onto a habitable planet. That planet is given immunity and it may not be contacted by any space-faring species. And then every other member of that species in every corner of the universe is remotely targeted, made sterile, and implanted with a genetic marker so they can't be cloned. An entire species, doomed to die of old age, its children made to live as hunters and gathers again. Will the children ever regain their parents' glory? Perhaps, but it's no guarantee. " ]	2
	[WP] Everything you draw comes to life, the problem is you suck at drawing.	[ "\"What the fuck is that?\" spat Jacob, sending candy bar bits flying on to Paul's face.\n\n\"Oh, good, you see it too,\" said Paul. He sighed and smiled and couldn't care less about his sticky cheeks. \"I thought I was losing it.\"\n\nThey were both referring, of course, to the tiny, two inch creature fluttering about Paul's head. It was black and white, two-dimensional, with different sized wings twisted in clearly uncomfortable positions that barely kept it aloft, and it had a goofy smile affixed permanently to its face.\n\n\"I mean, I'm pretty high right now. So, the jury is still out on that,\" admitted Jacob, \"But seriously though, what is it?\"\n\n\"I think it's a dragon. Or something… I don't know, my professor is just so boring. He was droning on about whatever he drones on about, and I checked out and started doodling. Next thing I know--\"\n\nThe little \"dragon\" let out the tiniest little fart, right on cue. It even had a little two-dimensional cloud with poot! written on it pop out of what one could suppose was its hindquarters. Jacob's eyes dilated to otherworldly size.\n\n\"Is it supposed to do that?\"\n\nPaul shrugged, \"I guess. I did draw it with the little cloud.\" His eyes rolled up to Jacob's. \"I was really bored…\"\n\nThe watched in silence as the dragon flew around for a little bit. They were all at once fascinated, horrified, incredulous, and--in Jacob's case--hungry. Quickly he sobered in the face of this miracle of life, and his natural skepticism crept back in.\n\n\"This has got to be some kind of trick, right? You're an engineering major. You've got a hologram machine stashed somewhere or something.\"\n\n\"You were chalking the sidewalk for your frat party this weekend, yeah?\" Jacob nodded. \"Alright, give me the chalk.\"\n\nJacob rummaged around in his backpack until he found the half-grated blue chalk and handed it to Paul. Chalk in hand, Paul stood in silence with his free hand stroking his chin, a true artist in repose. After a minute, he bent down and drew a stick figure man on the pavement roughly the same height as himself but with a gigantic rectangular eyeball, an O-shaped mouth, stubby arms, and legs bent in directions never witnessed in nature. Paul finished his drawing, stood up and placed his hands on his hips in triumph and nodded at the figure with approval. In an instant, the stick man came to life writhing and rolling about on the ground, screaming bloody murder.\n\n\"UH, GUD! IH HUTS! IH HUTS SUH MUH!\" the figure cried.\n\nPaul and Jacob immediately had simultaneous panic attacks and flailed about like the little dragon's wings. Their speech flipped back and forth from high-pitched squeals to vulgar swear words aimed at anything and everything.\n\n\"MUH LES! MUH UHS! IH HUTS SUH MUH!\"\n\n\"WHAT'S HE SAYING?! I'M FREAKING OUT, DUDE!\" yelled Jacob.\n\n\"I THINK HE'S SAYING IT HURTS SO MUCH!\" Paul yelled back.\n\n\"WELL, YEAH, DUDE! HIS BODY IS ALL FUCKED UP! YOU SUCK AT DRAWING! YOU SUCK SO HARD!\"\n\n\"KUHL MUH! KUHL MUH PLUHZ!\"\n\n\"HE WANTS US TO KILL HIM! KILL HIM, DUDE!\" pleaded Jacob, his face red and eyes pouring.\n\nPaul fumbled with his own bag and yanked out a big bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and with a violent, panicked seizure flung it twelve feet away. He pointed the opening at the stick man and squeezed the bottle, his eyes closed so tight they could make diamonds. The water gushed out over the drawing, slushing and swirling the chalk all about until all that was left was a big, mumbling puddle. The boys hyperventilated, processing the last 10 minutes very poorly, until they could breathe normally again. Jacob looked over at Paul and tried not to black out as he repeated please don't ever draw again.\n\nThey stood and stared at the puddle until the sun went down, the little dragon pooting all about.\n", " Today was the day. After being a bland and otherwise stale person for the first 22 years of my life, I'd finally decided to pick up a hobby. Drawing. Having never drawn before, I didn't realize how much of a challenge it actually was.\n\n\"And here's a dog! Ahh, who am I kidding?\" \n\nI studied the picture for a moment. It's eyes were two simple black dots, while the muzzle stuck out straight, like a small box while it's tongue drooped out. All of this, combined with the body of a hotdog massaged by a frightened cat, resulted in a very messy sketch.\n\nI threw the deformed gopher baby picture into the wastebasket. Art is too hard, I groaned. I'll pick up another hobby.\n\n\n\"Mlarrg,\"\n\n\nI stopped, hearing a noise coming from beside my table. \n\n\n\"Mlarraaarg, blaaaaaarack blugh, \"\n\n\nThe groaning continued, a bit louder this time. Immediately crouching, I followed the sound, tracing it back to the wastebasket. I stared at it for a moment, confused. \n\n\n\"What the hell?\"\n\n\n\"MLARRAAARG,\" The wastebasket shook, and a melted gopher sausage plopped out. Wait a second? My dog. It's, alive? I shut my eyes and opened them. The ugly pup was still there, mlargging at me. \n\n\"How the heck does this happen?\" I thought outloud. My art comes to life. I can create life itself. This could be revolutionary! Humanity itself would be turned on it's head. I thought of the implications for a moment. Standing myself up, I grabbed a piece of paper and opened up an incognito tab. We're gonna have some fun here.\n\nNote: Sorry if there are errors, I'm not the best at writing out my thoughts.", " \"There.\" Daniel let out with a breath he had been holding to keep his line steady. Daniel lifted his sketch up to the light with a smile, admiring his handy-work. \n\n \"Now we can begin our wild adventures together Abby!\"\n\n His voice sounded small in the cramped empty studio he hadn't left in days. The walls where covered with flimsy papers, lackadaisically lifting and falling with each new breeze entering through the window. \nEvery paper represented his success, not his failures which he inevitably had to burn in fear that his creations may come out at night and hurt him again. \n\n \"I cannot wait to meet you Abby! I've waited so long, and I know you'll be the one! I just know it!\"\n\n Daniel caressed the face of the drawing lovingly. \"I'll be back tonight for you miss Abby.\"\nWith that he began the process of prying himself out of his cushioned leather chair. And after a couple minutes of straining and pushing himself away from its grasp he finally succeeded. Lifting his hands towards the heavens he stretched his body, letting out a deep groan from the pit of his diaphragm. He spun on his heel and headed out of the room. Shut the door and meticulously locked all 15 locks. \n\n Daniel was not a complicated man. It didn't take much to keep him happy. After he found he could make a drawing come to life, he didn't have to even leave his house for much. He would draw his groceries, furniture and clothes. Although he didn't always get what he intended. He had plenty of paper to fix his mistakes. And the midnight of each new day Daniel would have so many new creations to play with.\n\n Daniel glanced at the time on his stove. \n\"Look at the time, speck!\" He shouted to his pet monkey\n\"Game of thrones is on!\" Daniel hurried to his sofa and plopped down deep into the plush cushions. Speck was close in trail, limping toward the couch to sit with his master. Daniel had forgotten to give him any knees, prohibiting him from joining him on the couch, so he laid at his feet. And about 30 minutes into his show, Daniel had fallen into a deep and peaceful slumber.\"\n\n BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM. Daniel was jolted awake. Causing his Cheetos to scatter all over the sofa and floor around him. The thundering noise seemed to be originating from behind his locked studio door. BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM. The noise persisted relentlessly. \n \"Now Abby! I won't let you out if you keep up that noise!\"\n The noise abruptly stopped.\n\"She understands.. That's a good sign.\" He thought to himself. \n Daniel walked to the door and listened for what was going on behind it. He heard tearing and scratching followed by drawers being opened and shut.\n \"Don't you be messin' with my things Abby!\"\nBut she persisted. Daniel suddenly felt a chill in the air. When he looked down his saw his clothes had vanished. He looked behind him and saw speck lying on the floor and a noose tightened around its neck. \n \"STOP IT ABBY!\"\nShaking with anger, began unlatching the doors many locks. \n\"I'm coming in there!\" \nDaniel flung the door open just in time to catch a glimpse of a long slender leg slipping out the window. He ran to the window and tried to jump through.\nHis body shot halfway out of the window. While the lower half remained inside, legs still kicking in the room. Daniel muttered some curses under his breath.\n\"Abby come back!\" \n\n\"Im here.\" She responded\nThen the door shut from within the room.\nand what sounded like many legs clacking against the hardwood.\n\"I don't know how you summoned me mortal. But it shall be the last thing you'll ever do.\"\n\nDaniel began to sob. He felt a sudden sharp pain go through his body. Then nothing.\n \n\n \n ", "I was always terrible at drawing. I was so bad that my art teacher from school, Mrs Richards, threatened to resign if she had to keep teaching me.\n\nThat was until I tried to draw a picture of her, one look at my portrait and Ms Richards thought it was incredible how well I managed to draw Marilyn Monroe, which was strange as Ms Richards looked nothing like her.\n\nFrom that day forth she made it her mission to make me an artist, but try as I may I never managed to draw whomever she wanted me to draw, it always ended up as somebody else.\n\nMs Richards stopped tutoring several months later when I lost my vision from a severe fever that almost took life. Despite the fact she gave up on me I kept up my artistic endeavour at home.\n\nI remember the day I felt slightly vain and signed my portrait, I'll never forget that my portrait of Wonder Wonder had come to life as Benjamin Franklin.\n\nI spent the next twenty portraits trying to bring Wonder Woman to life, the most disastrous attempt was bringing Scarecrow from the Batman comics to life, thankfully he had no powers.\n\nI just finished my latest portrait. I just attempted Mrs Richards portrait again, maybe I will bring Monroe back to life again, dreading and also anticipating who will come to life I sign my name.\n\nA soft fragrance caresses my sense of smell, and I hear a string of word that sounded accented French. \n\n\"Damn, she definitely wasn't french.\" I swore aloud.\n\nShe must have took offense to whatever I said as I felt a slap across my face as she said \"Pardon me, Mister, I meant not to do it,\" she left after making a noise.\n\nAs she opened my front door I heard the crowd outside that was gathered to be the first to see the latest person I had brought to life.\n\n", "Tiny puddles of tears dotted the paper. Tiny screams from his brother’s crooked mouth tore at his ears. \nTim watched in horror as his brother dragged himself across the desk on disfigured arms that popped and wrenched unnaturally. Matty’s little legs left undrawn had formed as flailing stubs that hindered his brother’s movement more than they helped.\n\nTim had been too slow. He’d focused too much on the details of the face, which even now sloughed slightly from the skull. The angle of the cheek was off, the nose a gaping wound that dribbled snot over Matty’s almost perfect lips. The lips had given Tim hope, their creation let his brother make sound. Now he understood that was a mistake. The screams trailed off into manic gibbering punctuated by the thump of tiny stump legs. The lips should have come last, after he perfected everything else. There was never enough time.\n \nDozens of framed pictures sat around the desk; the wall was riddled through with pins holding the more candid images. The largest was Matty’s last head shot, still sitting on the easel they’d used at the funeral. Four years he’d been gone but waking or sleeping Tim ached with unanswered questions. Tiny hounds that sunk their teeth into his brain and refused release. Four years and the best he could do was a broken caricature with his brother’s eyes.\n\nMatty’s thrashing struggles had carried him to the desk's edge. In triumph he glared up at Tim. Then just as he had that first and final time, he hurled himself over the edge. Matty’s broken body breaking once more against the ground. Joining the detritus of the day’s other drawings. Tim picked up his pencil and turned one of his brother’s photos to better catch the light as fresh tears dotted the paper with puddles.", "“Does it hurt?” I ask him. I'm genuinely curious. Looking over his mangled form I have thoughts of the horribly deformed people that I've seen in the movies. I don't think anybody ever bothered to ask them if it hurt, they were always too busy trying to take advantage of them or kill them and rescue the girl. I promised I would be different. \n\nHis crooked mouth opens and in a surprisingly deep voice he utters “No”.\n\nI let out a sigh of relief. I felt bad enough that I couldn't make him look the way I wanted, I couldn't imagine how much it would've stung to know that he was in pain too. I asked him his name. He wipes his nose with the back of his enormous blue hand. I wish I had used black ink, but it's too late for that now. \n\n“Lenny”, he rumbles. \n\nOf course it is. That's not what I would have named him, but it was no longer up to me, he was his own man now. That's the way of it, all I can do is just bring these things to life and then let them decide how to live.\n\nSome of them have stuck around like Jacqueline the butterfly woman and Heinrich, who I can't even properly put into words. Imagine a doodle of spirals, but now give it lanky arms that have two too many elbows. I was just daydreaming when I created Heinrich, but he didn't hold it against me that he wasn't my best effort. He's so kind and loyal that he's likely my best friend out of all of my creations.\n\nSome have left and gone on to do other things with their lives. Trash collector, hair stylist, circus performer, construction worker. I have creations working in a wide variety of occupations. I'm not trying to take credit for any of their accomplishments. If anything I wonder how much more they could do if I was any good at drawing. I'm proud of them though.\n\nLenny grunted and scratched his protruding stomach. \n\n“What do I do now?” he asked. \n\n“Well Lenny, what do you want to do? What is it that you feel like you were made to do?”\n\n“Drawing.”\n\nHe clearly misunderstood the question.\n\n“No Lenny, you're made FROM a drawing, but what is it you WANT to do?” I hoped I emphasized the question correctly.\n\nLenny furrows his brow in a huff.\n\n“No. Drawing.”\n\nHe hobbles his way on two different sized legs over to where I am sitting at my desk. He picks up the very pen that I just used to sketch him and it is dwarfed in his gargantuan hand. He shoos me with his other hand and sits in my seat. I smile at his enthusiasm and think about how art, even my bad attempt at it, really isn't a pet to be tamed and controlled. I get lost in the philosophical daydream and when I come back around Lenny is pointing at the picture that he just drew. I know the limits of my talent so I'm sure to be encouraging regardless of how it looks. Jacqueline flutters in through the open window and lands on my shoulder.\n\n“Oh wow”, she gasps right in my ear, “did YOU do that? You've gotten really good.”\n\nI'm just as gobsmacked as she is. On the paper is a portrait of me. A proper portrait. My nose isn't crooked and my eyes are aligned. It is so good it is nearly photorealistic. The only way I know it's not a photograph is because I was standing right there as Lenny drew it. He smiles, satisfied with the reception of his drawing.\n\n“See? Drawing.”\n\nI can't believe how good he is given that he comes from such poor stock. I beam with pride. My drawings may not be the best, but they are all wonderful.", "In my basement I keep a collection of my doodles.\nWe laugh and cry together. When I was 10 I found that my imaginary friends could move things if nobody looked. I knew other people didn't think it was funny any more. Mom would get angry. They took me to the school councillor's office once. I smartened up fast. Now I keep my drawings in the basement. \nI have a family now. Two great kids, and a wife. \nIn the basement I have many tools. Some of my doodles are incomplete, and the (slightly) better ones help them. I have made wooden legs for those without them. I have added others to planters, and shelves, and toys for the kids. My kids can see them. My living drawings make great companions. My wife knows, but she can't see them move. All she cares, is that the toys put themselves away. I have made a great toy box. It was a drawing of a kangaroo, and it loves when the drawings come to rest in her care. \n\nThe doodles that are \"loose\" are ever helpful in the basement. They paint, they sand, and they can sort things. Some are smarter than others. Not many are inclined to do pranks, however some do.... really, just a few.\n\nThere are some I keep in boxes, for Halloween, and xmas, and some for summer, and some for winter. There are so many, they take turns coming out, and take a holiday back in the box when they are done their season. \nThe boxes are otherwise empty, and can be stored flat. Certainly saves a lot of room. \n\nOne year, I tried gifting some of the things with drawings on them to others. They don't seem to appear to live when they are away from me for a long period of time. They do reanimate when I am close by, and are conscious of the time they spend away from me, and their surroundings. I give them to my friends, family, and see them when I visit. Every single one is a good luck charm.\n\nMy imperfect folk drawing friends are legion. I've scribbled them at my favorite restaurants - some are still present after being painted over! I never worry when one disappears, each one knows they are like me, temporary.\n\nI hope one of my kids will have my gift when they are older. Maybe they will forget. Maybe they will remember them with a smile when they see them, even when I am long gone.\n\nDoodle every day!" ]	7
	[WP] You wake up for your morning pee to discover the bathroom door to be locked. You live alone.	[ "I start off my morning like any other day. Wake up from another dream about another woman I'll never have in my life, stare at the ceiling fan for a few minutes to ponder the heavy questions in life to get my brain up and going, get up out of bed, slip on my house shoes, and take the ol' morning piss. This routine was interrupted however when instead of slipping my feet into my alligator slippers, they slip into a passed out drunk's pants. This snapped me out of my morning drowsiness real fast as I look around my room to see what other oddities are here. A half-eaten sandwich on the floor, beer bottles scattered about as well, splatters of god-knows-what on the wall, one other drunk lumped against my bed with some phallic images drawn on his face, and a not-so-great looking woman in my bed. Not the first time that's happened. Now, I don't remember having a party last night (and it wasn't because of a drunk blackout either.)\n\nI dreaded leaving my room since I knew the rest of the apartment will certainly be worse than this, but I had to PISS! Luckily, the bathroom was right across from my room. I leave my room, keeping my eyes solely on the bathroom door, to complete my morning mission. However, the door was locked. Of course it was. In desperation (and to delay the inevitability of seeing my trashed apartment) I tried kicking the door down. After a few attempts, nothing. I now started ramming the door, and got it to crack open after four tries.\n\nI used what little strength my body would allow at this time of the day to open it up the rest of the way. Of course first thing I see is a naked couple passed out in the bath tub, mid-intercourse to boot. I look behind the door to see that the camera man of this session of love making was the obstacle between me and the urinary jailbreak from my bladder. I do my business in my newly vomit-covered toilet, washed my hands in the also vomit-covered sink, and went back to my thankfully-not-vomit-covered bed to go back to sleep, hoping that I'll wake up from whatever the hell this was.", "I frowned as I searched for the keys to the door. This was the third time this sort of thing happened this week, and it was getting annoying. The wind could get rather strong where I live, and, either due to poor planning or lack of foresight, the door to the bathroom was facing directly against a large window.\n\nTinted, of course.\n\nMuch as I like to blame it on the architect, it was my fault for asking him that I wanted a view while I was on my throne.\n\nThen, as if it wanted to emphasize my mistake, a cold wind blew behind me, making me shiver.\n\n\"Ah, damn it. Not again,\" I said to myself as I unlocked the door.\n\nAs I relieved myself of my full bladder, I thought about getting myself a doorstop to stop the door from accidentally banging itself into the wall. \n\nI shake off the excess liquid from my junk and left, this time making sure that the door was unlocked before I closed it.\n\n---\n\nAww, that didn't work again, thought the little ghost girl to herself. She had been trying to get the nice man's attention for most of the past week now, but he was as stubborn as a mule.\n\nShe sighed as she locked the door again. \"I'm going to make him notice me if it's the last thing I do!\" she declared.\n", "I rolled over in my bed, dragging a lump of covers with me as I began to emerge from sleep. The pounding in my head was only exacerbated by the light filtering through my so called black out curtains. Black out, my ass. The room was a filtered shade of brown at best as the sun rose on what others would call a \"lovely morning.\" Others who hadn't been shooting tequila the night before.\n\nThe groan that escaped my lips seemed to emanate from my entire body, as if every cell was bemoaning the amount of liquor I'd consumed hours before. Mind and body were united in the determination that I made a terrible mistake in judgement and would never do that again. Well. Probably. Not for a while. At least not until the next weekend. \n\nOne part of my body began protesting louder than the others, and I was both delighted and surprised to find it wasn't my stomach or my head. Not to worry, I was sure they would each voice their concerns in their own time and in their own ways, but for now, it was the bladder that was calling for attention. Immediately. I had never felt so grateful for my unsuccessful search for a roommate. The rent might be crippling, but the bathroom was always free, and I never had to worry about my make up being used by someone else.\n\nI unwound myself from my sheets with jerking, uncoordinated movements that almost took longer than my bladder was willing to wait. I shuffled down the hall just as ungracefully as I'd emerged from my bed, and nearly missed the bathroom doorknob. When I did grab hold of it, I thought I must be at the wrong door. It didn't turn. \n\nMy bathroom door was locked. I realized the static sound in my ears was not hangover induced, but was coming from the shower. As I listened closer, I heard a man humming. Oh, shit, I thought to myself, who the hell did I fuck last night?", "Clunk.\n\n\"Locked? No, can't be.\"\n\nClunk.\n\n\"What is... what is this? Hello?! Johnny? Is that you in there?\"\n\nMy brother had crashed my apartment once before when he was drunk. He had climbed in through the bedroom window upstairs and made his way down to the bathroom where he'd fallen asleep in the running shower. It must be him.\n\n\"Johnny? Come on, man. Open up. I know you're in there.\"\n\nNo answer, no movement, no nothing. Dead quiet. He must've had liquor. Since I had the day off I went back to my bedroom, peed off the balcony and fell asleep quietly in my bed. When I woke up me and Johnny hugged it out. I decided right there and then that I was going to submit him into a rehab program. Twelve weeks later and he's doing great.", "It was an average day at like, four in the morning. Yeah that's my morning. I stay up really early in the morning to write for my blog. Anyways, I get up, go to the kitchen to get something to eat, and go to my computer to start typing up another article for that blog I was talking about.\n\nBy the time I got half way done with the article and I feel an urge to take a piss. Yeah, I know, people find that disgusting, but this is where things get disturbing. I go to the bathroom, which had the door closed. I go up to it trying to open it. \n\nIt was locked. I think \"Oh, its probably just mom\", and go back to my computer. It took me a minute to fully remember that, I moved out from my parents two months ago. I remember that I was alone, or at least I though I was alone. I was still tired, so it took a minute for me to realize that. I get out of my computer chair and walk slowly to the bathroom door. I took my bat that was to the right of my computer chair, just in case whoever was in there was dangerous or violent. \n\nBut I digress. I went up, very slowly, to the door. I take the doorknob in my hand and slowly turn it to the left. I hear a click sound. It was open. I open it up very fast and raise my bat up. No one was in there. My initial reaction was that it was just in my head. I mean, Occam's razor demands it right? At first glance it didn't look like anyone had been in there, and nothing just locks and unlocks itself unless someone was in the bathroom.\n\nThen I remembered the window in the bathroom. Its located to the left of where I was standing. I look to the left to see the small rectangular window that was usually closed, open. I called the cops, telling them someone was inside the house. They came over and I told them everything. They didn't believe me. I wish I was just forgetting something. I wish I just accidently kept the window up and just forgot to close it and that the lock to the bathroom was just jammed or something. But I know, I know that someone was in there. I hope they never come into this house again." ]	5
	[WP] Everyone is born with a "Life Song"-- a random song that plays around them during important events in their lives. Tell a story of someone whose song does NOT match the important event.	[ "\"Don't drop them!\" She chided gently, as I cradled our newborns, one against each shoulder.\n\n\"I'm not going to drop them, sweety.\"\n\n\"I'm just remembering the dance at our wedding... and that time we met over our shared passion for rock climbing... and that time at the carnival that the ferris wheel broke down...\"\n\n\"Sheesh, babe. Don't worry so much.\"\n\n\"It's just...\"\n\nI sighed, shifting the babies to cradle even more securely in my arms. The boy cooed up at me, while the girl snuggled in closer. \"There, hap-\"\n\n♫ LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR! LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR! LET THE BODIES HIT THE RAAAAAAAAAH! [♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HORkT4a2MhQ)", "\"We're just going to have to ignore it,\" spoke the priest while rubbing the sweat from his brow. The whole situation was decidedly uncomfortable, but to the holy man's credit he was doing his best to make a terrible situation a decent one. \n\nAnd now it's alright. It's OK. And you may turn the other way\n\n\"We'll carry on. Ivan would have wanted that. Through all his trials, all his troubles, he cared deeply for those nearest to him. He would have wanted you, all those gathered here to honour his memory, to be able to move on in the joy of life after his passing.\"\n\nWe can try to understand\n\nIvan's siblings and mother took to the front, speaking of Ivan's childhood, his friends; the typical anecdotes that happen during a funeral. It was a beautiful service in many ways, but the music that followed him throughout his time on earth proved to make it a mockery. Beneath the tears and grimaces, pangs of frustration shone through on the faces of Ivan's closest. \n\nWhether you're a brother or whether you're a mother\n\nHis father, owning the only dry eyes in the room, spoke next. Their relationship was built on the belief that Ivan was bound for great things - the typical hopeful father. However, the pressure weighed on Ivan. Any failure proved a heavier burden, having to face not only his own personal demons but also the gaze of his father, always upon him, never ceasing. His speech was colder; not necessarily from the speaker but from those that knew Ivan so well that believed it may have been his father that pushed him ever closer to his ultimate death. No, it was not the time nor the place to lay blame, but each passes through grief in their own ways and there were more than a few that felt anger towards him, even if it was just a fire to dry the tears in their eyes. \n\nLife goin' nowhere. Somebody help me\n\nThere wasn't an attendee that didn't take some degree of blame. Each spoke their final words of love and respect, each knowing the words were empty of meaning now and coming all too late.\n\nSomebody help me, yeah\n\nIn the final moments of the funeral the most heartwrenching part of the ever-playing song came through once more, all the louder for the somber quiet. \n\nHa!\n\nThe song's piercing staccato, straight to the heart.\n\nHa!\n\nThe mother cried over her lost son.\n\nHa!\n\nThe brother consoled her, but he couldn't manage to hold back his own flood of tears.\n\nHa!\n\nThe father, filled with sorrow, felt the first pangs of loneliness even among his family. \n\nStayin' alive, stayin' alive!" ]	2
	[WP] In ancient alien texts, Earth was a mythical planet, the only one left in the universe said to support life. You are a member of the mission to find Earth.	[ "Blessed Awakening\n\nA soft, three-fingered hand caressed his face, making its way down his beak, resting on its tip. He opened his eyes. There she was. Her long, beautiful green feathers rustled as she pulled the belt around her white toga tighter. The flight feathers on her arm twitched as she pulled her hand away. \nShe smiled at him. \n\"Blessed Awakening, Tethis.\"\n\"Thank you, Pangea.\"\nHe was about to inquire why she had awoken him, but as he looked into her deep purple eyes, he noticed a spark within them that could only mean one thing. \n\"Pangea... Are we...?\"\n\"Yes, Tethis. We are.\"\nThe moment had come. The elixir of his life rushed with vigor through his veins as he uncrossed his arms, gracefully letting himself down from the rail on which he had been hanging. Gazing briefly over to his left, he saw his comrade Godwana, who hung, suspended from her feet by the same railing. \n\"Shall we wake the others?\", he asked, quietly, respectfully. \n\"Not just yet.\"\nShe caressed his shoulder. \n\"I'd like to share this moment, just with you, for a moment.\"\nHe nodded, and, slipping on his toga, he followed her, hand in hers. \nHorus hummed around them, the pale white walls doing little to soothe his racing mind. \nWhat would greet them, as they reached the observatory? Would all their prayers be answered, or would their dreams crumble, as had the world they had left behind. He bit back a pang of guilt, remembering all those who had been left behind, all those who had perished on Kepler. He thought back to the crumbling cities, the crowds of screaming souls that were all too quickly silenced by the waves of death they had left behind. He remembered, as Horus had taken off, how he had looked one final time into the eyes of Captain Lauresia, her eyes wet with the pain of knowing that, though she had been instrumental in bringing the final hope for our species to life, she would never see the her craft come to fruition. \nHe stepped into the elevator, beside Pangea, and briefly met her gaze. \n\"What are you pondering? This silence is abnormal of you, is it not?\"\n\"Yes...\"\nHe sighed. \n\"Lauresia was a brave soul, was she not?\"\nPangea's grip tightened around Tethis's hand. \n\"Yes, she was indeed. A brace soul, a wise mind...\"\n\"... And a wonderful mother to you.\"\nPangea looked away. A solitary tear found its way down her facial feathers, along the crease of her mahogany brown beak, and onto the floor. \n\"I'm sorry...\", Tethis began. \n\"Do not be.\"\nShe looked up at him. \n\"These are not tears of pain.\"\nShe massaged his palm with her thumb. \n\"True love is planting the saplings of trees in whose shade one never shall sit.\"\nThe elevator came to a stop. \n\"Even though it took the end of our world to look within ourselves, and finally find it, we did. And I take solace in that.\"\nThe doors hissed open, and they stepped out onto the observatory deck, still gazing into each other's eyes. \n\"Find what, Pangea?\"\nShe turned her gaze from him. \n\"Love, Tethis. Love.\"\nHe followed her eyes, looking out into space.\nHe had heard stories, been read to as a child, sat around bonfires with his comrades swapping dreams they had had about The Great Garden, or Eden, Terra, Earth, Gaia, the Lifestone, Treasure, the Crystalline Orb, it had had so many names. \nBut as he gazed upon it, the glassy, tranquil blue seas, glistening beneath churning clouds, and the supple ground, a rainbow of brown and green, all these names faded, giving way to only one: Home. \n\"It's... More than I could have ever imagined.\"\nBeside him, Pangea nodded. \n\"Are you old enough to remember the Oceans on Kepler?\"\nHe shook his head. \n\"No. Are you?\"\n\"Lauresia was. Mother told me many stories. But nothing she ever told me about compared to this.\"\n\"Indeed.\"\n\"This is beyond any dream, Tethis, so far beyond what we could have imagined\", she mused, \"prosperity, and perfection beckons us to be part of it, to do away with the ways of old, and begin again.\" \nShe squeezed his hand. \n\"I see a future, Tethis. Don't you?\"\n\"Yes, Pangea, I do.\"\nShe turned to look at him as he said this. He was no longer looking out into the glowing blue planet below. His eyes had met hers, and he drew closer. \n\"Tethis...\"\nHer voice grew soft as they lowered their heads, allowing the bridges of their beaks to meet, in a tender display of affection. When they parted, they gazed back out, and she rested her head on his shoulder. \n\"I love you, Pangea.\"\n\"I love you too, Tethis.\"\n", "“Just think,” said Al-Randon, staring out the aft hatch window.\n\n“Thinking,” said El-Vissith. “Pretty much continuously.”\n\n“Ha ha.” Al-Randon moved her hands for a better view. Her sunken eyes showed only cold in the infrared bands. Her outer eyes delivered a white window and strange stars beyond. So many, and so far away. “Somewhere back there is a transmitter like a one-watt bulb shining from Ediodor to the furthest planet in Ediodor’s planet. And we’re like a one-watt bulb shining back.”\n\n“Not even including the Relay channel,” El-Vissith said brightly. “If we’re lost they’ll never have the faintest idea where our bodies ended up.”\n\n“You’re terrible,” she said, with a little annoyance.\n\n“You started it. Thinking.”\n\nHer reply was interrupted by a loud “Ow!” from elsewhere. Both astronauts bounded up the tube toward the comms panel. There Al-Shadrok was glaring daggers at a cable end that appeared to be glowing red.\n\n“What did you do?” said El-Vissith.\n\n“Tried tuning it in the 200-MHz band. It went nuts. Somebody’s putting way beyond thermal energy there.”\n\n“Someone ahead of us,” Al-Randon said quietly.\n\n“Someone ahead. I’ll get samples across the band, see what else the Earthlings rolled out for us.” He turned back to his console and tapped in a few commands, then gingerly unrolled another meter or so of cable. He gave Al-Randon and El-Vissith an odd look, as though surprised they were still there. “Just you wait,” she said. “This is gonna be great. We’re on the stream now, we just swim up through time until we hit the transmitters.”\n\n“Not literally,” said El-Vissith, sounding genuinely concerned.\n\n“Yeah. I meant that.”\n\nAl-Randon climbed past the pod to the biodome, the largest of the separable units in this ship the Alel-Gamdi, the All-Hands. El-Wender was passing slowly from terrarium to terrarium.\n\nHe looked up while his third and fourth arms kept working behind him. “I hear Shadrok’s having a good time.”\n\n“There are transmissions,” said Al-Randon. “We can’t decode them yet, but he's translating. He has the numbers on how old those are. The Relay gave us enough speed to hit normal space pretty close…but we need at least a little time to sort out how to say ‘hello.’”\n\n“Can you imagine, if they’re really there? Alive, now?” He said what El-Vissith wouldn’t hear, what Al-Shadrok determinedly changed the subject from. “If there’s a place in this galaxy where intelligent life evolved to the point of not trying to wipe out intelligent life?”\n\n“I know,” said Al-Randon. “I know.”\n\nAl-Randon proceeded up to the dome. The star they were aiming for was becoming larger than its brethren in this sky where her people had never drawn constellations. “Please,” she whispered. “Please be alive.” Not like the last twelve legends they’d surveyed.\n", "The shadows in the cracks where we shall lull,\nLie in wait of a familiar call.\n\nWilderness of grey, green and blue,\nWith newfound strength, we will rule.\n\nBonds of good misled,\nBlood of gold be shed.\n\nPower led to power differences. It let to fear and jealousy. Conflict arose, escalating into wars. Lalinites were once a single species that had morphed into numerous distinctive species from relentless enhancements through genetic engineering.\n\nWe have watched them as they warred, believing that it was the perfect test of power. Sadly, they grew too strong and quickly forgot who they worshipped, choosing instead to worship themselves. After all, the living were all victors of conflicts, bearing accompanying scars and stories. \n\nWithin two generations, we had become folklore. Another two generations passed and we were only found in historical texts that no one read. We had been passive for too long by then. Lalin was literally falling apart from all of their strength. \n\nAnd we were the only ones left who knew how to build. We remembered the ships Adam and Eve the Third, and began to refurbish them for the inevitable. \n\nWith Lalin began to erupt and lands turning to flowing lava, we took our servants, our pets and only the best of the Lalinites. It was time to leave. \n\nIn contrast to the Lalinites, we have long lives and longer memories. We remember the prophecies of old. We may have survived the Apocalypse II, but another Adam and Eve had found Eden to rule. \n\nBlood of gold be shed, the Lalinites had forgotten cleanly how we had been driven to Lalin but our sworn enemies. While we have grown in strength, we needed an aligning vision. We’ve had one all along, only they’d lost sight of it.\n\nAnd now, from the depths of space came a soft whisper. “We are Eden, come if you hear us.”\n\nWe are the Eyes of Lalin. We had lived as gods to brew an army so that blood of gold may be shed. \n\nWe shifted the course of what was once Adam the Third. We were on our way to Eden.\n\n---\n\n2nd drafts eventually go [here](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com).", "\"Dismissed,\" concluded Colonel Nerol. \n\nThe room broke into mindless chatter as we rose and headed for the door. \n\n\"Lieutenant Leere?\" Nerol added. \"A word?\"\n\nI froze, hand on the doorframe, and backed out of the way for the rest to pass. I shoved my hands into my pockets and crossed to the front of the room. \"Yes, sir?\"\n\nNerol's eyes narrowed, shifting as he looked me over. Then, he turned and reached into his podium and pulled out a small tablet. Without another word, he handed it to me and packed up his things. Then, leaving me standing straight as a board, Nerol walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.\n\nI looked down at the tablet. Nerol hadn't dismissed me, presumably to leave me to open it. I put my hand down on the tablet face and it glowed to life. I walked over to the podium and laid it down in front of me. A video message appeared on the screen, and I gasped as the projection began. Floating before me was a living planet, not made of gas or arid clay; it was something I had only seen in drawings and mockups. But those were all fantasies, something we could only dream about. There were no other planets in the near galaxy that could ever be so... so green. \n\n\"Lieutenant Jackaby P. Y. Leere. As you may have guessed, you are being chosen for a squadron whose mission is to find the fabled Earth. We have reason to believe it does in fact exist, and will only take a few months at warp speed to reach. You will be leaving first thing in the morning. To accept this mission, please place your hand over the tablet screen.\"\n\nI watched the planet spin delicately as I lowered my hand onto the tablet. For the whole night, the image burned into my mind's eye. In the darkness, in the bottom of my bunkmate's mattress, all I could see was the green and blue planet. \n\nThat night was one of the worst night's sleeps I had ever had. The time passed slower than a snole-mule in heat. I was sweating, I was freezing. My dreams were vivid and snapped me awake in the darkness too many times to count. When the daylight finally broke, I was dressed and my bag was packed. \n\nI arrived to the briefing room twenty paces early. I waited, taking a seat by the window and looking out onto our aging beauty of a planet, Tealia Ce. Even just thirty cycles ago, the land wasn't as dry and overused looking, but maybe that's just my childhood bias. I watched my five cycle self laying outside, skygazing, arms and legs out like a starflower. Our house had a substantial patch of greenland that I used to sit in almost every late sun. I always wondered what Tealia Ce would look like if it were covered in greenland. \n\nA few more recruits entered the room and snapped me from my wandering. They crossed the room to me and began making idle conversation. I vaguely knew them, really the most we had talked before was basic training. \n\nFinally, the commander entered, and we all rose to greet her.\n\n\"At ease,\" she said, \"as you know, I'm Commander Val, and I will be guiding your travel to the Earth. If you listen to me, all will go well. I will be communicating with you as you board the ship...\"\n\nThe controls were all familiar; they gave us a standard ship, but new and from the looks of it, top of the line. \n\n\"...to when you take off...\"\n\nThe flight started smoothly, one small bout of turbulence and from then on, the stars shined in our favor.\n\n\"...to when you first make contact with the Earth...\"\n\nThe team cheered as the ship alerted us that our landing was imminent. My stomach fluttered and my heart was beating faster than it had ever before. We were landing on Earth. Earth existed. And as much as it pained me to say, we wouldn't have to worry about Tealia Ce anymore; we could migrate and find a new life on Earth, and finally start over. A whole cycle of exploring and misdirections and it all finally led us here. \n\nThe ship shuddered and landed, lowering to the terrain and coming to a full stop. For a moment, we sat in silence. Each of us needed the time to come to terms with what we were about to do. We put our galaxy gear on, keeping the atmosphere we could breathe in around us. We could sample the Earth atmosphere and go from there, but for now, better safe than sorry.\n\nI stood at the front of the team, heart racing. The door was shut, and none of us had really been able to see outside other than the light patch of soft ground we had landed on. According to our maps, we landed in the heart of greenland.\n\n\"Would you like to do the honors?\" I said to Wenla, who stood near the hatch release button.\n\nShe grinned and slammed her hand against the wall.\n\nThe hatch squeaked open, and the light at first was blinding. I stumbled forward, holding a hand over my eyes as best as I could as they adjusted. The heat hit us then, like a blast of red-orange flicks. Below my gear covered feet was squishy yellowland, and as far as I could see, the ground was covered by it. \n\n\"We must have misread the maps,\" Wenla said behind me. \"They did indicate parts of the Earth are yellowland.\"\n\n\"I didn't misread no maps,\" Yolane said. \"We're right where the greenland should be.\"\n\nI looked around, looking for something green.\n\n\"Liuetenant Leere,\" Wenla whispered. She walked to my side and pointed up. \"Look.\"\n\nIn just that moment, in looking up, my heart sank. As if time stood still, and it was just me and the planet Earth, I could see just how hopeless we were. \n\n\"Hey,\" Wenla said, \"Lieutenant Leere--Jack!\"\n\nI was already inside the ship before the others could come after me. The trip meant nothing. I threw my cabin door shut, kicking it as my vision blurred. Tealia Ce was doomed, and I wondered if they knew there was even a chance of this when we took the mission. When they offered us the chance to be the first to run tests on the Earth, did they know it might be just as damaged as Tealia Ce? I laid on my bed, looking up at the ship's ceiling. \n\nThe sky was supposed to be blue.", "\"The machines came, and took everything, from, us, form me, from each, and everyone one you! They left oue home our worlds, all of them, evey stronghold, every colony, every hearth that once warmed a home under a beatiful sky..a... radioactive wasteland. \n\nYes, there's no chance of home. Even now, as those monsters chase what remains of our proud people through the void, we proud few carry one. We take with us not only our sacred gods, and a traditions of democracy, but our hope, our only hope that we will find it, the lost colony...and I, Gaius Baltar, as your newly elected president will be the man to lead us there...\"", "Books wandered a lot. He also wondered a lot, but the tribe tended to encourage that less. They liked him wandering, because he sometimes found things for them, but in all his wanderings he had never found anything akin to the perfectly spherical, metallic treasure that lay before him. In all his wonderings he’d never imagined such an object either. Perhaps if the tribe hadn’t burnt all the books bar one as kindling he would have read about it. Instinctively, his hand skimmed over his patchwork breast pocket, across the battered copy of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience. The only book his grandmother had saved during the Burnings. His thoughts wandered back to the object in front of him. It was spotless, a small sphere of perfection, the one odd egg in a nest of a debris-laden, dilapidated cityscape. It also did not look to be a part of something, one rare whole in a world of broken parts. With his knife steadfastly held in his other hand, he checked his surroundings. As always, he knew the area by habit, any street sign had been desecrated by nuclear fire long ago, only the charred idea of a once used directional system remained. The ball had landed on the curve of a pavement, further shattering the cracked tiles. The curve was on the corner of a hotel, browned bricks blackened. The innards of the hotel were visible, dilapidated rooms exposed to the air’s orange haze. They had suffered slight collapse under the weight of time, bowing in reverence to the exhausted atmosphere. A perfect spot for small raiding parties to hide in, Books noted. Across the road a small park pitifully boasted dead trees and bushes, the eviscerated ground stretching for several paltry metres. Satisfied he was not about to be set upon by another enterprising scavenger like himself, Books lent to touch the sphere. As he did so, the metal ball did something that metal balls did not oft do.\n \nIt touched back. \n\nHis hand was an inch from the sphere when what Books had thought to be a solid thing leapt and latched itself to him in one liquid chrome surge. It engulfed his arm, enveloping the time-roughened, dark skin with a smooth silver sheen. A gasping scream was muffled as the intruding material crawled into Books’ mouth, nose and eyes. Books fell to the ground, pulling at the substance with transformed hands. \n\nWhat stood back up was no longer Books.\nThe metallic form examined itself, running its hands along its newly acquired host. It stopped at the book in the breast pocket. Pulling the book from the pocket, Not-Books opened the text. Silver eyelids parted, cold sapphire pools having replaced the sympathetic brown pupils of the human-that-was. The pupils did not dilate as Not-Books read, they opened and closed like the aperture of a camera. Having finished, the creature lay the book on the ground, open. \nAfter having regarded its crude burlap garments, roughly hewn from necessity, Not-Books closed its eyes. The metallic skin glowed and hummed a burning white, and the clothes ignited. The nude form was sexless, the genitals having been replaced by smoothness. Books’ bodily imperfections, such as the visible ribcage of malnutrition and the pockmarks of disease, had similarly been smoothed over.\n\nWhat stood was no longer a human.\n\nNot-Books placed two fingers to its temple. It spoke, ‘Archivist here, requesting audio response from Reconnaissance Craft 7.’\n\nA few seconds passed. A crackling voice retorted, ‘Request received, report your situation.’\n \n‘I shall ignore the lack of deference this time, Reconnaissance 7, but do not think again that my sleep has made me forget decorum.’\n\n‘We apologise, Archivist.’\n\n‘Noted.’ The Archivist turned on its heel, considering its surroundings, countless calculations and projections occurring even as it spoke. ‘As the texts and legends speculated, they are a carbon based life, mostly compatible as hosts. The air is nitrogen rich, with other trace elements present. However, the observations of medium civilisation seem to be somewhat exaggerated. That or the civilisation has crumbled before we made contact. Actually, considering the radiation present, that seems most plausible. This carcass of a city I’m in is indicative of nuclear warfare, normal ballistic weaponry could not cause this much destruction. I shall consult this host brain.’ A moment passed. ‘The pitiful creatures ripped each other apart. To think: the myths and legends call this the “last hope for life”.’\n\n‘Noted, we shall send observation drones to check the planet’s other landmasses. Elaborate on your host.’\n\n‘I’m still assimilating the brain, but I’ve gathered a few things. He’s called Books, or at least that is how his group refers to him. Similar to us, they now name based on role or qualities, apparently. They call their records ‘books’. This one came from the place they call the ‘British Library’. Interestingly, he seems to be the closest thing they have to an Archivist, but the group or ‘tribe’ seems to deem him next to valueless, they just send him out to gather resources.’ The Archivist gasped. ‘By the Creator… They burnt their records. All of them. Each solar cycle they burnt the records for warmth during the cold seasons. 14 million records. So \nmuch history lost. Savages.’ \n\nThe Archivist picked up Books’ knife that had fallen to the floor during the struggle. ‘His tribe is run in a crude, patriarchal hierarchy, with a leader named only ‘Grandfather’.’ The liquid coating of the Archivist flowed over the knife. After a few seconds, the knife seemed to melt, its solid form becoming lost to an amorphous globule of alien metal. ‘They are minimally armed, mostly using improvised melee weapons.’ The Archivist regarded the metal, and it shifted and formed back into the shape of a knife. ‘There are only a few with small ballistic weaponry, the most this one has seen are their pistols.’ The slivering silver altered the form of the weapon, the handle elongating, the blade lengthening and becoming thinner, sharper. \n\n‘Will you attempt to make contact?’ The Reconnaissance craft crackled across the comms line.\n\n‘Yes. They may not be what the legends wrote of, but we cannot allow this mission to be in vain.’\n\nWith the audio feed terminated by a removal of fingers from head, the Archivist allowed the blade to melt back into its body. Staring into the shattered city, the landmarks of a collapsed train station, a mile to the north east, told the Archivist where to find the library. \nThe shining, symbiotic chrome sentinel began its trek to the tribe, with a clear purpose, sharper than the blade it clutched. No more wandering. \n\nAn irradiated gust of wind blew the discarded William Blake book closed.\n", "“The one habitable planet left in the galaxy and you humans have done what to it!” shouted our captain to the assembled speakers of the nation states of earth.\n\n“We… um... polluted it?” suggested one.\n\n“To be fair we didn’t really know that it was the only life supporting planet in the universe” piped up another one.\n\n“Have you done a thorough check? Surely of all the planets there has to be another. There are so many of them…” said the human trailing off into silence perhaps sensing the building rage of our people.\n\n“It was known as the crucible. The place where all species spawned and raced into space. Countless species spawned here to explore the galaxy. All of them leaving this place better than they found it” our captain proclaimed.\n\n“But what about the dinosaurs!” interrupted a puny human in the back as a fierce debate broke out among them about if dinosaurs existed and some man named Jesus. How he related to the great dino species who has recently explored a previously unexplored section of the galaxy was hard for me to grasp. I had my eye on the smug one in the front. His hands crossed and his hair swooped across his for head. The one they called Trump. I was waiting for this one to speak. \n\n“The dino are…” my captain began with the one they called Trump interrupted perhaps the greatest star ship captain the galaxy has ever seen.\n\n“You are here for our jobs and resources” the one called Trump began “but you haven’t done any hard work.”\n\nMy captain bristled in fury.\n\n“You and your kind aren’t wanted here.” The one called Trump continued.\n\nMy captain’s eyes began to splint. \n\n“Furthermore we are going to build a wall! And you are going to pay for it!” the one called Trump declared. The humans began cheering wildly.\n\nSighing I looked down to my cuffed hands and back up to the galactic police who had arrested us. The story was told. \n\n“And that why I believe the captain ordered us to destroyed the crucible sir.“\n", "No one really believed it existed, and yet what choice did we have? Our planet was soon to be engulfed by our second star going supernova. We had to leave.\n\nWe sent out a hundred million shuttles with the hope that just one of them might find the legendary planet Earth, and whoever was on board would self replicate and save our species. The other shuttles... well those on board would eventually expire. \n\nThe shuttles were each fired out into space and set on a straight trajectory. They did not have enough fuel on board to change direction, only to make minor adjustments if they came near Earth.\n\n20,000 cycles had passed when I was removed from the Frozen Chamber by the ships intelligence. My first thought, as I oozed onto the cool liquid floor, was that my planet would be long dead already. I shed a drop of mesoglea in sorrow.\n\nThe ship began vocalising to me. \n\n\"One planet in the local solar system is capable of supporting life. Surface of the planet is made up of over 70% correct liquid bonding.\"\n\nI was unable to take this in.\n\n\"Wh—what do you mean?\"\n\n\"Do not worry Xenoth, your cognition will fully return shortly. What I am trying to explain to you is that the third planet from the local star is conceivably planet Earth.\"\n\nWhat? Had I found it?\n\nIt was a bitter sweet moment. It meant I would live but all others of my species would be doomed to float in space until their shuttle fell apart in a million years. I would have to start my species again.\n\n\"There is more, Xenoth. Would you like to hear?\"\n\n\"More? Explain Ship!\"\n\n\"Before I woke you I sent sensor crafts to the surface of the planet. There is much life already existent on the planet, including one species that matches your own DNA by 99.8%. In appearance they are extremely similar but much smaller. They live in the same liquid chemical, have the same translucent body pod and similar tentacles that hang down from it. They are lacking your intelligence but...\"\n\n\"But what, Ship?\"\n\n\"It seems very likely that this is the planet your species originated on Xenoth. That is why the planet is known in your species mythology. On this planet something happened to devolve your species - perhaps a super predator emerged and they regressed as a result.\"\n\nA million thoughts flooded through my minds. I had to learn more.\n\n\"Whatever happened, we are going to find out. Take us down, Ship.\"\n\n---\n\n/r/nickofnight \n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	8
	[WP] "You know the difference between a child and an adult? Adults know what happens at night..."	[ "I remember when your grandfather gave me the talk. He walked into my room and said \"Alright Son, you're eighteen now. I think it's time we had... 'the talk'\" \nBeing the pessimistic little jackass I was, I responded with \"Yeah, I know Dad, men and women have sex and that's where babies come from.\" and I made sure it sounded as sarcastic as possible. \n\nI made the whole thing a pain in the ass for him. Luckily I don't have to put up with all that crap since this is just a video recording. Unluckily, you were in an accident a few days before your birthday and the rules are the rules. I'm making this video on your Birthday. Hopefully you wake up before they come for me, but just in case, I'm making this video so you know how much I care about you and how much I love you.\n\nThe truth is we're living in an incredibly over populated society. People are only allowed one kid. You know already, you know that, but what you don't know is how they take care of population control. Your mother and I were both sterilized after your birth. You once asked why people are only allowed to have one kid and we told you not to think of trivial things like that. Well now you know. Now that you're eighteen, I have to leave. If they have to come for me at night it won't be pleasant for anyone. Not me, not you, not mom. They'd happily get rid of three people if they could. So I will go willingly to protect you and your mother.\n\nYou are allowed one child. When that child is eighteen the father is removed from society. I don't know how they do it, but I imagine they kill me. Do not fight anyone about this. Once again, no one will think twice of getting rid of another threat to everyone's survival. Once you get married your Mother will have to do the same, otherwise they'll come for her too, in the night. I guess they do this to prevent you from getting married. Getting married means your mother dies, so you don't get married. No marriage, no child approval, one less child to worry about and society reaches a manageable number a bit quicker. I hope you have kid, I'm sure your Mother does too, but she'll still be around to nag you about it. Your Mother and I know how painful it is to go through with this sort of thing, we had to, but the happiness that comes from finding someone special and raising a child of your own believe me, it's worth it, and I would do it all over again.\n\nBut all of that means nothing if you don't wake up in the next few days. I dread to think if you reach the thirty-day cut-off time for life support. So again, I make this video hoping that you'll wake up. The pain you suffer from my loss will get better. Meet someone special, get married, make your mother happy, have a kid and make yourself happy. \n\nGoodbye Casey... I love you.", "The winding road extends before me like the body of a snake. Rain pounds the windshield, and I drive at a crawling pace lest the serpent wake and fling me from its back.\n\nOn one side of the serpent, a steep hillside, covered in shadow, brush, and trees. On the other side, a sheer cliff extending down to the ocean. Who knows what foul creatures lurk in the dark waters at the base of the cliff. The road is perilously lodged between two extremes-the trees which reach up impossibly high to tickle the feet of God, and the ocean which flows down into the depths of the earth to cool the fires of Hell.\n\nI look over at the passenger seat. My beautiful wife sits there, the side of her face pressed to the window. She was fast asleep, lulled by the sound of the rain and the hum of the tires on the wet pavement. I sigh. I am bitter.\n\nWe are returning home from her parents' place. A dry roast dinner had been a poor distraction from the equally dry conversation. But, there at the chipped yellow Formica table, under flickering florescent lights, my wife, my 'beautiful' wife, had confessed to everything. I wish she hadn't.\n\nAffairs. Drug use. Theft, to support both her habits and her boyfriends'. She talked for what seemed like hours about her sins, though it was only minutes. I know, now, that while she might have her head turned to the hillside that reaches up, she is forever suspended over the cold, watery precipice. I realize that I've picked up speed.\n\nI jerk the steering wheel. Not enough to cause an accident or to wake her. Just enough to prove to myself I could. I reach over and shake her awake. She looks at me, not speaking, only lifting that questioning brow of hers. I jerk the wheel again, and her eyes widen in panic.\n\nI turn the wheel sharply, veering towards the cliffside. She doesn't scream, only grips the dashboard as the car tires leave the pavement. For a few wonderful moments, we are suspended in midair. Gravity has no power over us-we are flying. Angels, for the first and last time, before time resumes and we plummet towards the ocean.\n\nThe roaring of the waves growing louder, I spare a glance into the back seat. There, our child, a boy of seven, is fast asleep, his head having fallen onto his chest. I smiled.\n\nI wanted my wife to know, but my son, if he is mine... he won't know what happens tonight." ]	2
	[WP] Sometimes, the best option is to do nothing.	[ "My father was saying – the worst thing is to do nothing. \n\nI’ve always strived to achieve something, to have a significant place in this world, to make sense if you want. I don’t know if it works, I think it does to some degree. Nobody really knows what they are doing, but to do nothing seems pointless. \n\nIt sounds very logical, and at the same time my experience has proved me wrong. \nThere was this one time when we had a massive party at this frat house, maybe, 20 years ago. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t some obnoxious frat boy, but these were some lit parties. Anyway, beer kegs were going down, music blasting at max, people were getting wasted, and everything was sweet pretty much. Until something went wrong, of course. A guy, I didn’t know his name at the time, who was absolutely stocious decided that would be a good idea to walk on the balcony railing. Oh man, I remember the hollow sound of him landing on the ground next to me. I was first at the incident, I was young and stupid, I just wanted to help. I found him lying with his head down in an unnatural position, and my first instinct was to try moving him a little bit when I heard this sudden snap like a bone breaking. I knew at this moment, I fucked up. He got paralyzed till the end of his life, I still blame myself. \n\nAnd then, this other time I was walking on the street coming back from the gym, and I saw these two guys fighting in the middle of the sidewalk. The one was beating the shit out of the other, there was a fucking puddle of blood next to them, and I felt the need to help, I couldn’t leave the guy gets beaten to death. I pushed the one on the top, interrupting their wrestling, but this one was massive, I didn’t realize my troubles until he stood up and looked at me with those deadly eyes. I tried to talk and calm him down, but in the next moment, his fist was flying at my jaw. If that wasn’t enough, he stabbed me with a knife three times while I was lying there insensible. This sent me in a hospital for three months where I could ponder life and my philosophies. \n\nAnother time, I was at… well, I think you got my point. \n\nSometimes, I feel like the best option is to do nothing. \n", "The girl who could bend time laid in her overlarge bed in a much too spacious room and wrapped herself snuggly in covers that soon became overwarm, not caring enough to move or adjust. She soon found herself staring at the ceiling in an unfocused daze, a boring activity which had quickly become a favourite hobby in the past few days, or was it weeks? She couldn’t remember anymore. \n\nA careless blink later and the brightly burning mid-day sun had fallen below the shadows of the horizon. The girl slowly turned her head towards the startlingly empty expanse of her queen sized mattress, changing her line of sight so as to look at the window above. She quickly found herself mesmerized by the streams of white moonlight light falling over the expanse of her bed, bending over her body and the covers. Another day gone by. She supposed it was about time for her to get something to eat as it wasn’t easy to recall when she had last ate. Maybe it was yesterday? Well, it wasn’t all that important anyways. \n\nTrying to put aside the heaviness of her body and the despondence that kept her attached to the empty bed in a silent room she slowly shifted the covers on top of her until they fell onto the floor, making her way to the kitchen. Walking through the hallway and entering the kitchen was quite a shock as she hadn’t been expecting the marble floor of the area to be freezing cold. The luminescent kitchen lights were even more unpleasant and difficult to adjust to. \n\nLooking at the fruit bowl lying placed on the table nearest the kitchen doorway she decided to grab the somewhat ripened banana and quickly ate the entire thing. Huh. She was much hungrier than she had thought.\n\nDeciding that eating more would probably be a good idea, she made her way to the cabinet above the stove to grab a packet of instant noodles and set a pot of water to boil. With nothing else to do she sat down on one of the kitchen stools with a heavy thump, leaning her head against her arms which lay on the table and proceeded to close her eyes. \n\nPathetic, she thought. This was the most activity she had managed to accomplish in days as even the smallest of tasks had become a herculean trial of strength and will. Up till now she had been surviving on the remnants of snacks and food her mother had bought her when she last visited who knows how long ago. \n\nUpon hearing the sounds of boiling water she slowly opened her eyes and moved to attend to the stove. She put together her meal and sat back down on the stool to eat on the kitchen counter. \n\nThe very act of eating an entire meal was much harder than she had anticipated, the mere effort of repeatedly bringing a fork covered with noodles to her mouth somehow having turned into an impossibility in the midst of self imposed solitude. About half way through she had to stop knowing that’s she’d be sick if she kept eating. She moved the bowl of noodles out of the way and lay her head on the countertop and covered her head with her arms, closing her eyes once more. \n\n“Now this, this is just embarrassing” she muttered with a small deprecating smile against the cool kitchen counter.\n\nShe couldn’t even eat an entire meal anymore. Honestly, how could she have reached the point where she couldn’t even eat properly anymore?!\n\nIn the sudden consuming burst of self abhorrence and disgust she could finally admit to herself that maybe this had gone on for too long. Perhaps it was time to move past this. \n\nShe had created a world trapped in slow motion, where everything outside moved much too quickly, so quickly that she couldn’t keep up, but despite the fact that she was trapped she just couldn’t bring herself to care. It was a world in which nothing, not even her own being had any point. Where everything was devoid of meaning and all that was left was a lifeless home that had always been meant for two but was now inhabited by one. \n\nHer eyes glistened and she began to shake a little, her back sharply convulsing every now and then. She was allowed this, after everything she had been through, at the very least she had to be allowed this much. And maybe, just maybe, she would eventually be allowed a bit more.\n\nPerhaps, she thought with the first glimmer of hope she had felt in a while, time would return to her. \n\nWell, she was starting at zero in a home filled with nothingness, but that was the best of starting places. She could only go up from here. ", "Oh Mommy, please make it stop. \n\nEvery time they stab me they leave another screaming hole in my skin. No one thinks I feel the pain, but that's because no one else hears those screams. It's when the doctors do what they do with their needles and knives that the screams come out, finding exits from my body unblocked by the cold hard tubes in my throat and nose. Mommy, would you hear them if they were louder?\n\nI hear when you cry Mommy, when you pray to God by my bed, when you curse at God for what happened. I hear when you get mad at the doctors when they tell you things you know but don't want to hear. I hear when you tell them to keep going.\n\nI know you love me Mommy, but why are you doing this to me?", "Have you ever stared at something so long that everything just sorta becomes a blur around you? You start seeing faces or images within the thing you are looking at. I've found that if you stare long enough at the spot on my ceiling directly above my bed you'll discover a giraffe on top of a skyscraper, a winged frog that seemed to be crying, and a man in a suit standing on the edge of a cliff. I even took the extra time to give them all backstories.\n\nIt was shortly after wrapping up the man in the suit's story that the feeling started to crawl in again. That feeling of utter dread and loneliness. You know that feeling. It's a lot like when you go through your Facebook feed and see the people you went to high school with having careers, going to college, having a family, and you are coming up with reasons why this flying frog is crying (he was late to his mother's birthday party and she called him to shame him). \n\nI have battled this emotion more times than I would like to admit and I've actually come to the conclusion that most everyone goes through this. We just don't share it. We all struggle to find a sense of stability in our lives in almost anything. Some try relationships. Others try money. But ultimately, 9 times out of 10 those things don't fullfil us. We spend a good majority of our lives trying to obtain things that we are lead to believe will make us happy, but when they don't we get scared. We look around us and feel as if we are broken or doing something wrong. Therefore we don't talk about our fears of isolation or the insecurities of feeling as if we made a mistake. So we only show people what we want them to see. Happy-go-lucky individuals without a single worry in the world! Because how could anyone who has a significant other, a decent job, and is going to college to better themselves ever have it bad?!\n\nUnfortunately for me though I didn't have any of those things. My path laid open for any possibility. I could do whatever I want. This life is truly in my hands and I can make it whatever I want it to be. I could talk to that pretty waitress at the local coffee shop and maybe get her number. Go on a few dates and get to know her. Have some fun casual sex. Have it progress a little further and introduce her to my friends and family. They end up loving her. Spend days with her. Weeks. Move in together. Get a cat named Bill Murray. Eventually we end up married getting a beautiful suburban house within a good school district and having a family. \n\nI could go to college and study medicine. College life could be free. Study really hard for a few years really putting myself in my studies to be the top in my class. Invest myself to the point where I get a good job at hospital anywhere in the country. I could save people's lives and better them back to health. It would be a lot of work, but so worth it in the end.\n\nAll these possibilities were at my fingertips... but I really need to think about why this mummy is dancing on my ceiling...", "I stood at the controls, frozen. The radio crackled again. Frantic voices came from the other end. What was said was important, I knew this, though I couldn't find the will to listen. Time should slow down in moments like this. It does in movies, and everyone says it happens. There isn't enough time. \n\n“You're running out of ti-ime!” the mockingly playful voice came over the radio again as if hearing my thoughts.\n\nI had to get out. A burst of electricity ran through me as I attempted to open the door to escape. “Please,” I begged.\n\nThe voice tsk tsk'd on the other end. “You can't leave yet! Make your choice or it will be made for you!”\n\nI looked up at the screen on the wall as it came to life. It showed a school bus, trapped on the tracks, it's driver desperately trying to get it working. The children were rowdy, but didn't yet know the danger they were in. After only a moment the screen changed, another scene took form, my husband and child, bound to a different section of track. Tears flowed from my eyes at both scenes, I had been shown them several times now. It wasn't getting easier.\n\n“Who will die?” the voice took on an edge of intensity, “Your precious family, or the bus full of children? Soon it will be out of your hands!” \n\n“You're a monster!” \n\n“No! You're the monster! I'm just letting you out!”\n\nI slammed my fist against the controls. “I won't play your game!”\n\n“You're already playing it, doll,” the playfulness was back. I preferred the intensity. \n\nIf I did nothing... my family… my little Ellie… my sweet Richard… I couldn't let them die. The timer on the wall above the screens was running out. Less than a minute before the train runs over my family. The screen flicked back to the bus full of children, as if he knew my thoughts. I closed my eyes as the voice began counting down, “Ten! Nine! Eight!”\n\nI had to do it. I did. I flipped the lever. The voice cackled through the radio. “So you truly are a monster. We're not so different after all, are we?”\n\nI collapsed onto the floor, my body shaking from the sobs. I couldn't do it, I couldn't let them die. A burst of electricity from the floor grabbed my attention and I looked back up at the screen obediently. “Don't check out just yet deary, you're going to watch the fruit of your works.”\n\nThe tears flowed down my face as I watched the bus on the screen, waiting, tensed for the impact. “Oh dear, it seems we're looking at the wrong place.” The screen flipped back to my family, and the voice laughed, “There we go.”\n\nI screamed at the screen. “NO! I saved them! I played your game!”\n\nThe voice laughed. “The game is rigged. House always wins. The train was going to hit the bus before you changed it's course! But you!” An evil cackle came through, and the voice struggled to speak through the laugh, “You killed your own family!”\n\n" ]	5
Your choice whether you are limited or omniscient.	[WP] Write a story where you, the third-person narrator, are involved in the plot.	[ "Jake had been born with a distinct lack of agency. Now, most people had a vague feeling like they didn't control their lives, whether it be because of God, or they're in a simulation, or maybe that the mechanical ticking of the physical universe doesn't leave much room for personal choice, but Jake knew for sure. He didn't get to control his actions, but he did know who did.\n\nThis bothered Jake quite a bit for a while, but just as all the other people grew tired of questioning their gods, or pleading with the simulation masters, or trying to nudge the mechanical ticking, so did Jake grow tired of being bothered. He supposed it was all very well the same if he was making choices because of chemicals sloshing around in his brain, or because someone else did so for him.\n\nHe just hoped that someone else was benevolent.\n\nJake grew up following the letters of the script. He lived a quite unremarkable life, had a short string of girlfriends he regretted until he found one he cherished. H didn't have kids, but got to travel instead, and made many reliable friends all across the world. Jake's life was pleasant, for sure, but he often wondered why it was only that. Surely, Jake could have had a brilliant life, one full of adventure and daring, constant bliss and constant action, but he didn't. He wondered why, because he understood that he had no choice, but whoever did had not chosen to torture or toy with him.\n\nWhat Jake did not understand, though, was suspension of disbelief. At least, he did not understand it until now. Jake and his choicemaker were both being judged, and they had to please the judge to continue. If Jake had lived a life too full, well...who would have believed that? It wouldn't even have been worth judging, and there's not much difference between a script unread and a script that doesn't exist at all. \n\nBut even so, Jake also understood that eventually every story, and every life, must come to an end. He was thankful, with what little choice he had to be so, that he had lived well, and thankful that his choicemaker had been a friend. The choicemaker, too, was thankful to Jake that he had helped them both exist, even if for a short while. \n\nJake closed his eyes, and breathed his last sigh in a room filled with friends, content that he nothing left he needed to do, and the choicemaker, too, made their last choice. ", "Sarah woke up on a beautiful Sunday morning, the sun shining through the curtains that bordered her window. The alarm wasn't set to go off for another 3 hours, but on a day like this sarah liked to wake up early and go for a walk with the family dog. \n\nSarah groaned, \"Let me sleep! I don't want to walk the damn dog!\" \n\nRegardless of her personal wishes, the dog still needed walking and on a sunny day like this, Sarah really couldn't waste time by sleeping in past noon. She walked to the door that lead to the bathroom, to take a quick shower and get ready for the sunny sunday outside. \n\nSarah groaned again, standing by the door to the bathroom \"Do we really have to do this? Can't you go narrate someone else?\" \n\nBut Sarah knew that yes, we really had to do this, since it's such a beautiful day out, and staying in bed all day was such a terrible idea. Without another complaint she undressed and stepped into the shower, getting her hair wet so it would be easier to brush and washing away the thin layer of sweat that had no doubt built up on her skin while sleeping. \n\nWhen that was done, and she was dressed and ready to walk the dog, she moved downstairs to get breakfast. She could smell that someone had been making crisp bacon on the stove. \n\n\"WHOA, what just happened. Where did the shower go? Are we skipping parts now? What are these clothes?! I'm dressed as some kind of 18th century governess\" \n\nIt was her mother that had been making bacon. But now her mother just stared in confusion. \"What are you wearing dear?\" her mother said, \"Is there a play you're in at school?\" But Sarah had no time to react, she was late for her job. \n\n\"Job?! What happened to walking the dog? I don't have a shift today!\" \n\nSome time later, Sarah arrived. She hoped the children had been good while she was away at her parent's house.\n\n\"What?! Where am I? Is this lakeview manor?\" \n\nSarah stepped in the house, and children rushed her from the adjacent rooms. They weren't hers, of course. But she'd been more a mother then their birth parents had ever been. Happy to see them after being away for so long she said, in a hoarse voice: \n\n\"Oh there you are, have you been good?\" \n\nSomewhere in the background, a whisper added,\n\n^help ^me. \n\n---\n\nWell there's my first ever post here that wasn't a comment! haha. I'm always making up stories in my head, but i never really write them down, half because i think they'll probably make a lot less sense outside the chaos of my own head, and half because i don't think i can get the syntax of a story right... which is a weird reason, i know. \n\ni hoped anyone who read this liked it. When i started it was a vague idea, but i started typing and just let it go organically. \n" ]	2
I know this sounds like a really basic prompt, but I think the challenge is making the reader care about all five characters. Have fun!	[WP] A group of five holds out against an endless horde. Survival is... unlikely.	[ "So this is my first attempt at fiction writing. Please give me any feedback. Also I know it's longer, maybe too long for a writing prompts response? \n___\nColonel Seth Grimar looked out over the wall of the fort. The moon had recently fallen behind heavy clouds bring an eerily darkness to the silent night. Seth knew in a few hours the endless horde of enemies would attack the stronghold and he and his four companies would be overrun. Four days of intense fighting had left his garrison of 50 soldiers and 10 wizards decimated. \n\nThis post was supposed to be an easy 2 month assignment. Situated on the west boundary of his kingdoms borders it was far from the fighting raging on the eastern front. Seth lifted his lip in a quick smirk thinking of the way General Demis and phrased the assignment. “It’s a chance to take a breather before returning to the front lines” If only the general knew what was to come.\n\nDecades before the fort had proved valuable during the slavers wars. The fort stood right at the entrance to Shadow Valley. The main road leading into his kingdom’s inner regions passed through this fort and valley. Anyone wishing passage would need to pass through the gates Seth now guarded. Since that war the fort had become more and more forgotten, as often happens in long periods of peace. When the kingdom was attacked from the west the fort became little more than a place to send injured troops and fresh recruits. The colonel had held the fort longer than anyone would have predicted. In truth he had no choice has he had to give his messengers time to reach the main kingdom and allow them to prepare a counter offensive to hold the valley. \n\nSeth looked over his last four warriors. Captain Dan Gretel had been with him for many offensives. If Seth’s memory served the captains exact words when recently offered his own command was “Go to hell my lord, I stand with Colonel Grimar”. Captain Gretel was a solider his whole life never starting a family so he could always be ready to fight for his kingdom. The colonel knew he had never met a finer or more loyal man.\n\nSeth admitted to himself he knew little about Matthew and Gregory. Looking at the two 17 year olds he dwelled on his first meeting with them the day before the attacks began. Seth had laughed at the naïve way Gregory talked about all the adventures to come for him and his friend. A moment of regret washed through Seth as he realized he might never know more about the two. \nFinally his eyes landed on Corrine, a mages assistance who only started training in the art of magic last year. Corrine had been a simple farmer’s daughter until she accidently lit a raider’s trousers on fire when they tried to raid her family’s farm. Corrine barely had a grasp of basic magic. She had been sent on this assignment to be a gopher for the other wizards. Much like Matthew and Gregory this was her first assignment outside the safe confines of the capital city.\n\nSeth woke each of the four and gathered them around a small fire. Perhaps, with his new plan, some of them might yet make it past daybreak. \n\n“We all know the odds we face and that we have already done all we can to buy time for our messengers.” Seth stated to the group. “The problem is we don't know if they made it\"\n\nThe Colonel continued \"As there is no way to hold this fort any longer with the numbers we have I have made the decision for us to abandon the fort and make our way east back into the inner regions” \n\n“But Colonel…” Captain Gretel began but was cut off by the colonel raising a hand to stop any further outcry. “We are not just leaving the fort without one last act of defiance towards our attackers”.\n\n“Sir,” whispered Matthew sounding as if he wasn’t sure he should be speaking up. “What can we do that will make any difference?”\n\n“We will blow up the fort and hopefully bring the valley walls down with it” answered the Colonel. The colonel continued “this fort was equipped with four fire cannons and enough ammo to keep them operational for a long siege”. \n\nFire Cannons were large cumbersome weapons that looked similar to naval cannons that not only spit out large projectiles but could shoot flames nearly 100 feet. The weapons were awkward to move due to their size and weight. This made them nearly useless on a battlefield but made for wonderful counter siege weapons. It would normally take a four man squad to load, aim and fire the cannons in an effective manner. The cannons were the reason so few soldiers were sent to the fort. The problem was that the enemy knew this and during the first predawn surprise attack three of the cannons had been destroyed.\n\n“With three cannons taken out right away the two stock piles are still filled with the fuel and ammo for the cannons” As the colonel finished his last sentence he began to see the expressions change from confusion to understanding on all but Corrine. \n\n“How will that help us?” asked Corrine. \n\nThe colonel knew Corrine was uneducated in the ways of siege and counter siege tactics and weapons. “The fuel and explosives for the canons must be kept dry until ready for use” the colonel explained. “With the limited space of the canyon our previous rulers had the builders from the north come down and carve out large caves on each side of the valley to store the fuel in”. \n\n“And since those stockpiles are still full we can light them off creating a large explosion under each mountain side” the captain quickly stated.\n\n“Correct, Captain and hopefully this will cause a landslide” the colonel continued. “Between the destroyed fort and landslide hopefully we will block the path and prevent any major forces from pushing through long enough for our armies to assemble”\n\nCaptain Gretel quickly added “The explosion will be huge and in order to light the fire two people will need to stay back. I volunteer” \n\n“Me too” joined Matthew. \n\n“I appreciate your bravery” the colonel told the two men “but with Corrine’s help I believe we all might get a chance to live” the colonel knew this was the biggest unknown in his plan. Corrine was untested and certainly had not been trained to throw a fire spell as far has he needed. Corrine’s worried expression told him she was thinking the same thing. “I...I don’t think I can do that” she quickly stuttered out. \n\n“You have cast fire magic before when the raiders threatened your family” Seth said in a sooth voice trying to calm Corrine. Corrine cut in “but they were going to kill my mother when I did that.”\n\nThe Colonel cut off any further objections. “I have faith you will do this for your family that is here with you now” he continued “As a wizard deployed with soldiers you know that we are all brothers and sisters fighting for the same cause” the colonel saw Matthew and Gregory sit up a little straighter as he continued “we live and die by those to our right and left. We have already given the kingdom a fighting chance. No one else matters today but the five of us.” The colonel raised his voice to add weight to his final thoughts “Today we fight for each other’s lives!” \n\nQuickly the Colonel explained the plan to all. Matthew, Gregory, the Captain and Colonel would begin moving just enough fuel and ammo out of the storage area to line the entire front wall of the fort. They would then make a small line of fuel to the rear so Corrine could light that from some distance off. Between the distance they would be at and the delay the Colonel hoped it would give them enough time to clear the blast radius. It would be close but the Colonel dare not push it any farther. Due to Corrine’s limited ability the plan would have to wait for first light so she could see her target. The colonel hoped the first attack would not come before that.\n\nAfter the preparations had been made the small group sat waiting for first light. Suddenly the silent night was pierced by a loud wail. “Was that a troll screeching?” asked Captain Gretel. Trolls hardly took interest in the plight of men. The last troll wars had nearly ended the race of men on this continent. \n\nAs the Colonel watched the main gate he heard loud crashing sounds as something with great force slammed into them. Even in the faint light left by the torches on the wall he could see it bending from the blows. \n\n“Can you see the target Corrine?” the colonel asked.\n\n“No yet” answered Corrine in a frantic voice. \n\n“Sir” Captain Gretel yelled “I will take Matthew and Gregory and try to man the last cannon. It should give Corrine time to cast her spell. Someone must make it back to tell the king that the trolls are helping our enemies” \n\nSeth knew the captain was right. This new revelation would change everything. The kingdom could hardly afford to fight two wars let alone a war with trolls.\nSeth turned to his longtime friend “You take these two and do what you can but the minute she lights the fuel you run as fast as you can” Even though he knew they would never make it he continued “by the luck of the gods you may get clear”. \n\nAs the two old warriors shook hands for the final time Gregory quickly yelled “Corrine stop!”\n\nThey looked up to see Corrine running full speed towards the front walls of the fort. With their armor there was no way any of the men could catch her. \n\n“Corrine stop!” yelled Seth.\n\n“For my family!” is all the colonel could make out in return from Corrine. \n\n“Fall back” he yelled to the others. As they ran the colonel turned around to see the front gates come crashing open with two trolls quickly following. He then saw a flash of light as Corrine lit the fuel. The fuel was meant to burn and nothing could stop the chain reaction now.\n\nThe four men ran and ran hoping to get outside the blast radius.\n", "“I hate to be the bearer of bad news-“ Sherwood began whilst notching an arrow into his composite bow\n\n“No you don’t” Saxon interjected, ducking behind a low wall and reloading her hellfire handcannons\n\n“-but I’m thinking we might not make it out of this one” he finished by loosing an arrow into the helmet and face of an Indari charger that had been making it’s way towards the cowering figure of Riga- who mouthed a quick thanks before returning to her cover.\n\n“Maybe you meatsacks won’t, I made a backup of myself earlier today” the robotic voice of Midas added as he fired several grenades into the enemy ranks\n\n“Yeah? Hey, what are our odds right now, Midas?” Sherwood asked over comms whilst ducking down next to Saxon and whispering “Hey Saxon, move over a bit- you’re hogging all the cover”\n\nSaxon looked to Sherwood, rolled her eyes under her helmet and moved to accommodate him.\n“I’d estimate a 0.25% chance for success” At this Riga seemed to visibly wince and looked up from her shelter to check on Sherwood\n\n“Have a little faith, Midas” Sherwood countered\n\n“If I account for faith, there’s a 0.26% chance of survival” Midas remarked as drily as his synthetic voice allowed\n\n“That’s not funny” Wu’s expressionless voice crackled over the comms, he hesitated briefly \n“Anyway drone’s been deployed. There’s… a lot of shit out there, watch yourselves”\n\nMidas linked to the drone visual feed, looked back to Saxon and Sherwood and then ran several calculations before simply stating “you’re both going to want to move”\n\n“How come?” Sherwood queried before being answered by a deafening bang and the explosion of brick dust and debris. In the quietness that followed Sherwood saw Riga move from her cover before Saxon shouted something at her and she hesitantly got back in, he couldn’t quite make out the words for the ringing in his ears. \nBut after the white noise faded he announced “Next time I’ll just listen instead of opening my mouth”\n\n“I find that hard to believe, Sherwood.” Saxon said before diving behind the wreckage of a colonial hovertank. She occasionally popped out to take pot shots but the overwhelming amount of fire she was receiving in return made it a risky manoeuvre, their ranks seemed endless even without their team’s discipline. Across the street Sherlock took point behind a shop front, occasionally sending explosive tipped arrows into the rounded helmets of the Indari exosuits.\n\n“More company coming in from the east. Riga, you’re going to want to move closer to the others, but be careful not to get too close” Wu’s voice came in over comms, “I’m going to move down the rooftops and take overwatch” Riga perked up from where she had been hiding and made her way carefully to the main party, dodging between cover and away from the stray shots of the firefight\n\n“Riga, the last thing we need is to lose our medic so get close to Midas and keep your head down” Saxon announced over comms, in between firing volleys from behind her cover\n\n“Keeping my head down won’t be a problem, trust me” Riga pushed her cropped brown hair up with her hand and nervously asked “you think command has received our transmission yet?”\n\n“Standard Indari protocol is to cut off the besieged planet from external communications. In all likelihood we’re alone out here” Midas stated plainly.\n\n“Well, not alone, we’ve got each other” Sherwood corrected before he was forced to dodge between cover as an Indari warmachine advanced on his position. He had made his way to the fountain in the plaza next to the tank wreckage. And was now shooting volleys of arrows towards the oncoming death machine to little avail. Riga watched from her cover as Midas blocked a few stray rounds that were headed her way but barely scratched his paintjob.\n\n“There’s too many of them, and they’re moving in bigger weaponry. Fall back to the subway entrance, I’ll cover your escape” \n\n“But Wu, how will you-“ Saxon hesitantly looked up to the rooftops to check on Wu\n\n“I’ll figure it out- go”\n\n“I don’t need telling twice, I'll get Riga” Saxon noticed that Sherwood sounded uncharacteristically protective. He rushed over to get Riga up and moving, compacting and then slinging his bow on his hip on his way. The two of them hurried towards the subway entrance with Sherwood almost carrying Riga in his hurry. Midas deployed several smoke grenades around the area and waited for Saxon who gave a lingering look to Wu who had drawn some of the Indari fire to the rooftops.\n\n“We won’t have any good signal from the subway. Good luck, you crazy bastard”\n\n\n\nHe pulled a small device from his pocket and once he watched them disappear far enough down into the subway, he pulled the trigger. The Indari weren’t going to make fish food out of his friends.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------\n~Not as happy with this as I'd like to be, but I thought it's better to post something and get constructive criticism than to do nothing and keep sucking forever", "'So... this is where we go around the group and discover that we each have unique talents that when combined get us through this?' \n'Unlikely.' she said it with such disdain that thought I heard her eyes creak as they rolled back into her bog-standard-but-in-the-heat-of-the-moment-pretty head. \n'Yeah I mean I make fucking Paninis for a living. I'm thirty-six. I know bollocks about zombies.' \nI glanced for a moment around the table at the rest of our motley crew. Derek was right, we were shafted. Another thump hit the rolled-down metal shutter. Probably a head. \n'Probably a head.' Beth said, blowing her nose for the umpteenth time, eyes streaming and sniffling. I shouldn't have found her attractive either but, like the woman, there must have been a deep-seated desire in me, a fantasy around women and peril. When did this start? At least I didn't find Bernie a looker. I just wasn't into girls who had clearly been weaned off the tit with condensed milk. I made a mental note to my self that if they did break in, Bernie was going to be the one a pushed in front of them.\n'Can you stop stuffing your cake hole for five minutes? Christ, this really is a 'convenience store' isn't it?' the woman snarled at Bernie. Their eyes met. Slowly, raising two portly sausage fingers up diffused the brief moment and I was glad to see the woman put slightly more in her place. It was her fault they had us surrounded. More rattling on the shutters. There were more of them. Ten? Twenty?\n‘Well do any of us have any weapons training?’ I asked\n‘Yeah, we are all medieval knights in our spare time. You fucking clown.’ The woman replied, ‘Look we are not Charlie’s angels. Derek might be able to fend them off with a French stick. Who knows, maybe zombies are intolerant to gluten. Bernie can quite easily avoid them in the same way she has ducked a job since she was sixteen. It was as she turned back to me that I caught her just under the chin with the spade. I had played cricket, and as the sharp edge sliced bone from her mandible and blood splattered, pebble dashing Derek, I couldn’t help thinking that a 4 would have been added to my innings.\n‘What the fuck!’ yelled Bernie. She had dropped her Twix and stood up. Beth was shaking and staring at the half-face on the floor that was the woman, eyes streaming. \n‘She was not helping the situation.’ I said. Eyes were on me. Or the spade. I threw it to the ground and walked around the table. ‘We need to think about how we are going to get out of this alive. Mouthing off at each other isn’t going to help.’ My plan to assert authority was going well. \n\nWe sat, without speaking, listening to the banging from outside. Zombies were persistent I thought to myself. Surely there were other stores with people holed up. Maybe one had just murdered the other. Maybe it was the fucking A-team and they were going to construct some zombie-killing machine from tinfoil and Pringles. Save the day and all that. Unlikely though. More likely the horde get in, and eat us or turn us into zombies. I wasn’t sure how it worked. It was then when I first contemplated killing the rest of the group.\n\n‘OK, how about we get as many of the heavy bits and bobs, you know, the isles, the fridges and block the doors and make our way up to the roof, again blocking all of the entrances. Wait it out up there. I don’t think zombies can climb up drainpipes. I’ve never seen it in the films.’\n‘Derek, I don’t think we should rely on films for our information’ I replied. ‘But it is a good idea. I know it is outside and all that but there are some tents and plenty of stuff to build a proper barrier until the military or whoever gets involved.’ I replied.\nBernie had started eating again. Pork scratchings or toenails as I called them, ‘We need to make sure that we take enough food and drink up with us. Maybe we should stay here. It seems quite safe.’\nI was surprised how easily the woman’s death and my clear murder had passed over. Still, I wasn’t going to dwell on it for to long. Without much more deliberation we knew what we were going to do. We went to work. \n\nThe next hour or so was all moving this and that. Beth found some nails and a hammer in the back and, as we all retreated, I boarded up the doors as best I could. \n\nOn the roof, we peered down. There were fewer zombies than we had thought. Maybe four or so banging furiously on the shutters. A rush of calm passed over me. I could take four out, I reckoned. They were pretty much your average run of the mill zombies: Bits of flesh missing from cheeks, exposing molars and canines; one, attired in a lumberjack shirt, looked as though he had been scalped and a small child, that clearly had an eye missing stood about fifteen feet below us. I had an idea.\n\n‘If we get out of this, or if it looks like we won’t, do you want to hook up?’ \nI wasn’t expecting that from Beth. She had said very little since we were holed up and though I admired her pocket-rocket frame, thought that any chance of an apocalyptic romance died with the woman’s lips landing in her lap. \n‘I will have to do some things I am not proud of.’ I said, ‘I have already done one.’\n‘She had to die. She was grinding us down. Do what you need. But remember me in all this.’ \n‘OK. Listen…’\nAs Beth accidently nudged Derek off of the roof, I began stuffing rags into the oil canisters. He wasn’t dead. The bin below him had cushioned his fall but he had clearly broken his leg. The zombies were soon upon him, climbing into the bin to finish him off. It was strange. I could hear him yelping and screaming but found it quite fascinating to watch the zombies feast. There is no hierarchal system to zombie feeding. The child was gnawing at his broken leg, the bone now exposed, while the other tackled his face and tackle. I didn’t like that bit. \n‘What have you done?’ yelled Bernie.\n‘I didn’t mean to… I just…’ \nGood stalling for time.\n‘I … slipped!’\nBy now all of the zombies were comfortably in the bin. \nNot since I dreamed of being a professional wrestler had I attempted a drop kick but as Bernie leaned over the side, I gave it everything and pictured myself as the Ultimate Warrior eliminating Randy Savage from the Royal Rumble. She made a yelp and tumbled, crashing on top of the zombies. The sound of their bones crunching as a four hundred pound slab of fat crashed upon them bade Beth wince. I took the can, set it alight and dropped it in. And then they were dead. Zombies and baggage gone over the course of a morning. Beth turned to me and placed her hand on my crotch as the whirring of a military helicopter hovered over us. We were saved as well. I never thought the fall of civilisation would work out so well for me.\n\n", "\"Everybody get up singing...\"\n\n\"1, 2, 3, 4!!\" my friends joined in.\n\n\"5 will make you get down now!\"\n\nAfter that I didn't know any more of the lyrics so I just made an unintelligible \"ner-ner-ner didi-dum didi-dum\" noise. \n\nThe mood seemed OK, we were throwing our own faeces at this point in order to fend off the hordes, but it seemed to be working. Our barricade had been successful for the last four hours, and the rabble had suffered considerable losses.\n\nThe singing had been an idea initiated in hour three of the siege to keep up morale. This had been kind of necessary after the disaster of hour two, when we had realised there were no knives left. They were the only real weapons we had, but we had thrown them all at the seemingly endless rabble trying to break down the door and seize the house back from us.\n\nWe'd been perhaps overly enthusiastic in hour one of the siege. It had to be admitted that the enthusiasm was slightly on the wane now. Alice was angry I'd thrown her ghds at the horde (\"they're haircare not weapons!\") and Becky was still fuming from when we said we should throw poo rather than food. It was ok though, she wouldn't be fuming at dinner time when we could tuck in to those delicious olives.\n\nCaitlin started up with her own chant as she threw a shitty bit of cloth (once a pair of her knickers) out of the window and towards the rabble at the door.\n\n\"I'm a survivor, I ain't gon give up, I'm not gon stop, I'm a survivor\"\n\n\"That's not how it goes Caitlyn, it's 'I'm gon work -\"\n\nDenise was halted mid sentence as some of the shit got thrown back in her face through the open window. This was swiftly followed by a cheer from the rabble, as an actual person climbed over the windowsill. We all stared at him.\n\n\"Are you actually throwing your own shit?\" he said. \"We're only trying to get you to leave the Airbnb\".\n", "The port city of Andruel, once the crowning jewel of the Aubrish kingdom, was in flames. Its outer walls reduced to rubble, its inner walls breached, the harbour slipping into the sea; the city could no longer protect those within from the invasion. Throughout the city beggar and noble alike were cut down, and even Nabrik Castle's defences had given way. King Gweryn II Auber had been on the front lines as soon as the outer walls fell, inspiring hundreds of troops to fight long enough for all the citizens to retreat to the inner walls, and then he died. General Mant Torin had commanded his troops excellently despite the enemy's numbers advantage, joining the fray himself at the gates of Nabrik Castle, and then he died. The three young princes, against their father's wishes, had grabbed armour and weapons from the throne room while their mother and sisters ran, and then they too died.\n\nKnowing this, and hearing the screams that rang through the building every time another servant was found and butchered, two princesses, a serving girl, and two battered knights hid in the King's study. A bookshelf, containing several dozen unique histories of the Kingdom of Aubria, had been pushed over behind the door, and the two knights stood behind it, ready for when the Felician invaders found them. The youngest princess, Princess Jandlin Auber, was only five years old, and was hugging her elder sister and crying. Princess Mialle was stroking her sister's hair, trying to comfort her, while barely able to stop herself from crying.\n\n\"That's the Queen's District gone now, all them noble houses are giving off a lot of smoke,\" updated Gwyn, the serving girl, who stood by the window watching the city. Her remark was followed by a whimper from the young Princess Jandlin, and a glare from Princess Mialle.\n\n\"Oh stop it, Gwyn,\" demanded Sir Mel, glancing at her briefly before returning his eyes to the door. \"You're only scaring the princesses, and we don't need reminding that the whole city's burning.\" The other knight, Sir Grett, jabbed Sir Mel in the side as Princess Jandlin let out another whimper. \"Oh, forgive me, your highnesses, I didn't think,\" Sir Mel apologised.\n\nThey were silent for a while, lost in sounds and thoughts of death while the afternoon sky turned black with smoke. Nearby, an entire tower of the castle fell to the ground with a thundering crack. Gwyn opened her mouth as if to speak, she was still looking out the window, but stares from Sir Grett and Princess Mialle stopped her. After a few moments, Princess Jandlin raised her head from her sister's side and looked to Gwyn.\n\n\"What was that one?\" she asked in a quiet voice. Gwyn looked at her with uncertainty as Princess Mialle sighed.\n\n\"Don't worry, Jandlin, it's going to be okay. You just need to not think about the-\" Mialle began.\n\n\"But I want to know whether teddy is safe,\" Jandlin whispered, just loud enough for Gwyn to hear. Mialle's eyes pleaded with Gwyn to not scare Jandlin.\n\n\"Cor, no! They wouldn't dare destroy the tower with your teddy in, they're too afraid of him for that!\" Gwyn declared. \"Know what? I bet your teddy's holding off dozens of 'em right now, with only one paw. Swear it on me life, he'll be as safe as ever.\"\n\nJandlin smiled and let out a giggle. \"The silly Fleeshuns can't hurt teddy, can they? They're too ugly for that,\" she decided.\n\n\"To be sure, your highness,\" chimed in Sir Mel. \"I've fought along side teddy before, and my my he's a good fighter. I once saw him break an enemy cavalry charge by himself, these pooheads shouldn't be a problem for him.\"\n\n\"Yeah, pooheads!\" shouted Jandlin, before giggling some more and being hugged hard by Mialle.\n\n\"You're too precious for this world, Jandlin,\" Mialle said, wiping tears from her eyes. Jandlin looked up at Mialle's face and frowned, then got a silk handkerchief out of her pocket to help with the tear wiping.\n\n\"Your highness, Princess Jandlin,\" Gwyn called. \"I see a poohead ship on fire! What d'you make of that?\"\n\n\"It'll be daddy and his men, saving the day,\" Jandlin replied, unaware of her father's death. The four others in the room looked at each other sadly, all agreeing that there wasn't any point telling Jandlin the truth.\n\n\"Must be, your highness. Cor, d'you think teddy out there with 'im, fighting against all the-\"\n\nGwyn's story was cut short as a stray arrow flew through the window and into her neck, burying itself there as she fell to the floor. Jandlin and Mialle screamed and sobbed together while Sir Grett moved the body behind a bookshelf. Both men knew the princesses would likely see more death, but they wanted to do what they could for the remainder of the royal family, and they were both certain that looking at a corpse wasn't good for a princesses health.\n\n\"Ha fledd dwer ga!\" came a shout from below them, a Felecian spearman hearing their screams. Sir Grett dropped Gwyn's body only half covered by a bookshelf and rushed to the door as feet hammered the stairs towards the study. Both knights drew their swords and looked to each other, resignation in their eyes. They had fought many battles together, and had both hoped they could one day die fighting for their king and country. But not so soon.\n\nA thump on the door. Another. Muffled cries from Jandlin. The door bursts open. Screams, from the knights and the Felecians. Sir Mel's sword cuts a spear in half. Sir Grett severs a hamstring. Three more Feletians fall before a spear reaches through Sir Mel's armour and takes his life. Sir Grett dies to a spear through his eye.\n\nThe princesses stand at the window, Mialle glancing back for a moment before they tumble out into the warm, choked air. They hold each other tight.\n\n\"It's okay, Jandlin, I'm-\"" ]	5
	[WP] Every time you get a song stuck in your head, it's because your soulmate is singing it.	[ " Today's the day. Finally. Stacy comes back from vacation. I've had to go five straight days without seeing her curly cursive on the ticket; without seeing her at the back table after hours rolling silverware. But today, those five long days are finally over. In the meantime, though, I've had to make due with one of the first shift waitresses instead. I've not even bothered to learn the replacement waitresses name, even though she seems kind enough. But, no matter how kind she is, she isn't Stacy. \n About halfway through the dinner rush, Stacy comes in late. \"Hey Stacy, welcome back to paradise.\" I managed to choke out through a gag of awkwardness. \n\"Great,\" she says with the cute edge in her voice, \"Just the guy I want to see first thing back.\" I know she was being sarcastic, but if you just go by the rhetoric alone, she might as well be head over heels.\n Her departure from the kitchen leaves the song Just the Girl by Click Five in my head. It kind of describes our relationship perfectly, like it was meant to be. \n When the off-brand Stacy comes in after hours to pick up her check, she greets me with her ever enthusiastic \"How's my favorite line cook?\". Jesus, how can someone be so enthusiastic this late at night.\n\"Fine.\" I answer curtly. Then, the weirdest thing happens. As I walk out the door of the kitchen to clock out, I swear I hear her singing the song I had in my head earlier. \n Jesus, can't she just take a hint? Some people just don't understand I suppose...", "As always, the high pitched beeping sound of the alarm clock violently tore me out of my peaceful sleep. Well, peaceful? Temperatures around here had risen past 100F in the past few days, and at night my bed was as hot as the fiery pits of Satan's kitchen stove. I had thrown the covers off of me and turned the airconditioning to its max. The latter was an old machine that didn't even cool the room that well for the idiotic rattling noise it produced when switched on. But I put up with it, at least the idea of the room being cooled gave me some comfort in my restless nights.\n\nThat was, if it hadn't been for the stupid thoughts that kept me up at night. Mostly it were memories of embarrasing things I had done when I was 15, or high school crushes I should have confessed my feelings to, yadda yadda, you know the drill.\nThis night, however, had been different. I'd been pondering most of the night, feeling restless yet oddly empty inside. It felt like those times where you are awake at night, on the edge of falling in love with a person you barely know, silently contemplating the chances you'd have with the other person (god, I missed being a teen), only this time the emptyness had been tastefully decorated with a soft beat that was growing stronger as the hours passed. I could've sworn I almost felt my heart beating to the rhythm, every fiber in my body matching the relaxed pulse.\n\nIt was about 8 o'clock now, and I was stopping by at my favourite overpriced coffee place to drain the fatigue from my body, replacing it with a cafeine-induced high. The rhythm in my mind, the beat in my brain had only surged over the past couple of hours, and now I could remember the lyrics to the song as well. I hadn't heard it in a couple of years and never actively listened to it, so I kept repeating the same bits over and over, my brain unable to think past the gaps my lack of knowledge of the lyrics of a 2013 pop song left.\n\nShow me how to fight for now\nAnd I'll tell you baby\nIt was easy coming back into you once I figured it out\n....?\n\nI really didn't get any further than that. I paid for my coffee (how the hell could they ask more than two dollars for a cup of black coffee) and headed out the door, mentally preparing myself to face the horrors of my 10 hour retail shift. It didn't last long. My mind kept on trying to complete the Justin Timberlake song, I didn't pay attention and bumped into another person just about to enter the shop. I nearly spilled coffee all over myself, rebalanced my hand, accidentally spilled most of it on the pavement anyway. I heard someone chuckle. I looked up into the eyes of a guy only a little older than me, with brown curls and cheerfully brown eyes. He wasn't ridiculously good looking, but he was handsome enough to make me feel embarrassed.\n\nI mumbled an apology, looking down. But he just jokingly patted my shoulder. \"It's all good, hun. Got a little caught up in my own thoughts. You're the one whose coffee got spilled after all.\"\n\nI just nodded at him, slightly blushing, not sure how to respond. As I made my way past him, I heard him softly muttering something. No, it was too melodic to be muttering, it was singing.\n\nYou were right here all along.\n\nIt took my brain a while to process it. Then I turned around. The guy noticed my sudden movement and turned around again to face me. He smirked. \"That's it. Song's been stuck in my head all night. Couldn't get any further than that line the entire time.\"\n\nI was speechless, didn't move for at least ten seconds. People were getting annoyed, pushing me around to get past me, and I lost sight of him. I tried to look for him, but I wasn't really tall, so I had to give up. Just as I turned around to leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Wait, hun. Let's grab a new coffee together, shall we.\"\n", "I glared out into the sun before quickly shuttering my windows. Heavy insulation was shoved into the cracks and I stomped over to my fridge to check out any left overs.\n\nThere weren't any left overs. I sighed through my nose, and began rummaging for a take out menu. I couldn't go out there. It hurts my head.\n\nThe world was just as noisy today as it was yesterday. Hums, whistles, awkward speaking of lyrics and just off tuned yoddles floated down the streets. The Lonesome were out, the massive swaths of humans that wandered city to city, singing for their soulmate.\n\nLuckily, even though I am a Lonesome as well, whoever my soulmate is supposed to be hated music as much as I did. Never heard a peep of his song in my head. Which is a bit ironic, because I bet we would love the shit out of each other, with all our talk about hating music. If I had one of those serenading songbirds out on the streets, I believe I would jump off a bridge in madness. I couldn't stand listening to music normally, but to have a tune hit your brain every time the love of your life starts singing a tune... I liked the silence. On a scale of 1 to golden, silence was a pretty solid 9. But it seemed like the world would never be silent again. Not since everyone figured out this one cool trick to find the love your life. It's like a goddamn Disney movie.\n\nThe Chinese menu fluttered in my head, and I quickly rattled my order to the man on the other end before he could start humming a tune at me. I hanged up the phone and stared bemusedly around my apartment. I rarely ever left. Not after I invested the thousands of dollars to soundproof the place. It wasn't perfect, but at least I wasn't being driven crazy. So far it worked out well, as I found out I could make a decent buck just being a cam girl. However, the pleas of men begging me to sing a song was getting a bit old. Hell, I am getting a bit old. I might need to start looking for a new profession or I might have to start getting into the really weird shit.\n\nMy gaze drifted up to my heavily padded ceiling. I needed to get out of the cities and the towns. I wanted to breathe again. But unfortunately, I am no Lewis or Clarke, and had no idea how to run away to the middle of nowhere. I am baffled how people survive without take out menus. I don't even have a little Native American local woman to guide me and show me the way of the land. I am just a lonely girl surrounded by the songs of the alone, and none of them will shut the hell up.", "I trundled down the set of stairs heading to the bus stop, my backpack heavy on my shoulders and my head full of music.\n\nNo, really. My head is always full of music these days. It's not a metaphor at all. Someone- or some THING- is near-constantly piping music into my brain. I squinted against the sun, checking the time on my watch and readjusting the backpack again. Tuning in absently and hearing a rousing rendition of some pop song that I didn't care about.\n\nAt first I thought it was just me. Songs getting stuck in your head, you know? Like an old CD stuck on repeat in my shitty old car. It had started a few months back, and by now it was almost expected. I've always been a musical person, so I always get songs stuck in my head. Old music, new music, all sorts, but the worry arose when I realized I was hearing music that I didn't know. I hadn't gone to anyone, of course. They'll tell me I'm crazy and give me meds, or lock me up somewhere, or make me talk to them about my childhood. Fuck, I don't know. At this point I'm so used to it I almost find myself enjoying it sometimes, like a foreign radio station that plays music I know every so often. Just enough variety to be enjoyable. At least she/he/it doesn't like opera.\n\nThe bus pulled in front of the stop with a whine and a huff of dark exhaust, and I fell in line behind a few other passengers boarding. Whatever pop song was playing had switched into some upbeat hip hop rhythm. Okay, this works. Not a bad song for the morning commute. I flashed my pass at the bus driver and sideways-squished myself past the first couple rows. The only open seat in my line of vision was next to a thin, hungry-looking guy about my age. His headphones were on, partially covered by a hoodie, and the only thing I thought was \"at least he'll be a quiet seat mate\".\n\nMy thoughts were dashed to the floor entirely as he glanced up at me disinterestedly. Not because of the piercing blue of his eyes, or his halfway decent looks, but mainly because of how as I watched his lips move to himself they seemed to line up perfectly to the lyrics pounding in my head.\n\nI let myself fall into the seat next to him as the bus lurched to a start.\n\n\"Uh...\" Whatever I was planning to say to the person/thing/program that had been running my personal soundtrack for months now had flown out the window. My mouth felt dry as hell. The guy half-turned his torso towards me, and I managed a small smile.\n\n\"What are you listening to?\"", "I can't seam to get it out of my head.\nIt's always there.\nIn the back of my head.\nIt's all I think about.\nI hear those lyrics every day...\nIt burns through my soul\nThey say when you can't get a song out of your head, your soul mate is singing it.\nI can't believe this is my soul mate. \nOut of all the songs that could've gotten stuck.\nIt just had to be this song.\n\"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down\"\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] Your whole life you been afraid to go to the washroom with the shower curtain closed so you open it everyday. Today you open the curtain to find something you didn't expect.	[ "I always had an overactive imagination. Like the time I thought the other ants would come to kill me when I stepped on one of their friends. Or the time I was the first man on Mars with a spaceship made out of cardboard and bicycle parts. I was still a kid back then of course. But I have never shaken the thought of someone standing behind the shower curtain when I peed. So I always checked. Silly of course. Until today.\n\nWhat the hell!?\n\nOh hi. How are you? I'm Tom.\n\nWhat.\n\nTom.\n\nWhat, no: what. What are you doing here?\n\nJust chilling. I wanted to do some unpacking, but it's been a long day. Want a beer?\n\nWhat?\n\nPeroni. I don't have much else I'm afraid. Should get that sorted tomorrow. Do you know where the nearest supermarket is, ...uhm... What was your name again?\n\n...uhm, no. Wait. What are you doing in the bath? Like, at all. Why are you not... Are you one of Charlie's friends? Is he having a crazy party again? CHARLIE!\n\nNo, I haven't had the pleasure to meet Charlie yet. Just moved in today, you see. Where does...\n\nWait you moved in here? Who left!? Which room did you get?\n\nThis room right here.\n\nYou moved into the bathroom?\n\nWell, it's nice enough, isn't it. I could hardly believe it when the landlord said it had been empty for some time. With the current housing shortage and all. \n\nBut this is our bathroom!\n\nYes, I couldn't believe my luck. Price is pretty good too, I'm kinda surprised you didn't move internally. Well it's too late now, haha!\n\nGoddammit, this is ridiculous. I'm phoning the landlord now. Charlie!\n\nHey where are you going! I'm sorry mate! .... Hey! ... I didn't know other people in the house wanted this room! Hey! ... Well, not a good start with the roommates. Maybe I should bring some cake in tomorrow. When I find out where the supermarket is.\n\n\n\n", "There is just something about a closed curtain that frightens me. Fear of the unknown. You never knew just what was lurking on the other side.\n\nMy boyfriend and I live together in a small, one bedroom apartment on the seventh floor of one of the oldest buildings in our city. We'd only been dating a few months when my lease ran out on my old place. He'd been going month-to-month with a roommate from hell and we'd become so close that it only made sense for us to find a place together. \n\nIt wasn't until then that he learned of my fear. At first he'd thought I was kidding. Then he'd thought it was cute. But after a few months of me constantly asking him to open the shower curtain in the bathroom for me, it started to lose its appeal. \n\nWe started fighting about it. He couldn't understand why it was such a big deal to me, and I couldn't understand why he always pulled it shut. He had to open the damn thing to get out of the shower, why couldn't he just leave it that way?\n\nWhen the curtain was closed and he wasn't around to open it for me, I would pee the kitchen sink if I didn't have a bottle. If I had to do number two, it would happen in a plastic bag, which I would immediately take down to the dumpster. One day he came home while I was peeing in a bottle and I think he felt bad.\n\nHe never shut the curtain on purpose, he promised me. It was just a habit formed from having a neat-freak mom and a tattle-tale little sister who'd reported every infarction. It wasn't something he even thought about when doing it.\n\nBut it was something I thought about. Going to friends' houses meant me holding my pee until I could use a public restroom or get home. I never understood why it scared me so, but the fear had always been there and so I'd learned to cope with it. \n\nThe fact that Dean couldn't remember to leave the curtain open bothered me. I think it was what started the trouble in our relationship. Soon we fought constantly over the stupidest little things and he started going out more and more with friends.\n\nOne night we had the worst fight to date and he'd told me he couldn't be with me anymore. He'd said I was pathetic and that he could hardly stand to look at me anymore. He felt like a parent, checking the closet and under the bed for a child's imaginary monster. \n\nI was disgusting, he'd shouted. Pissing in bottles and shitting in bags like a lunatic. \"Who even does that?\" he'd shouted. I made him sick and when he got home from work he was packing his things and leaving. He'd stormed from the bedroom and gone to shower and get ready. \n\nAs the bedroom door slammed shut and I heard the shower turn on, I felt numb. I'd never opened myself up to anyone like I had Dean. He'd taken my biggest weakness and told me he hated me for it. \n\nHe'd left without saying anything to me. I called out of work and then stayed in bed. I cried for hours, agonizing over the loss of my first - and probably only - love. I must have fallen asleep because I don't remember anything until it was dark outside. \n\nI sat up in bed and from the little light provided by the streetlights outside I realized all of Dean's things were gone. The closet was devoid of all male clothing. Dresser drawers gaped open, empty. Even the autographed picture of Steven Tyler had been taken off the wall above the head of the bed. \n\nHow had he packed up all of his belongings without waking me? The idea of him coldly deleting himself from my life while I lay sleeping in the same room hurt. \n\nI stood from the bed. I was freezing. Had Dean left the door open? I fought off a shiver and decided a hot bubble bath might help me.\n\nI flipped the bathroom light switch on and stopped short as a shiver tore down my spine. A row of happy little cartoon dolphins leaping out of the ocean blocked my view of the bathtub. \n\nHere it was. Dean's final \"fuck you\" in the form of a closed shower curtain. A sob escaped me as I fled into the hallway, heart pounding. \n\nEven if he hadn't understood me, Dean knew how frightening that was for me. How could he have been so cruel? And this time there was no hope of him coming home.\n\nI started to dismiss the idea of a bath entirely but stopped myself. No. This was exactly what had driven the love of my life away from me. I wouldn't let the fear get the better of me this time. I was taking a bath. \n\nWith my mind made up I marched back into the bathroom, heart hammering in my chest, and searched my lavender bubblebath from underneath the cabinet. The scent had always calmed me and right now it seemed like I could even smell it from the closed bottle... wherever it was...\n\nWhen my search came up empty, I didn't know what to think. Maybe I'd run out? Or had Dean decided to take that with him too?\n\nRealizing it was possible that I'd simply left it in the shower the last time I'd taken a bath, I turned sharply and confronted the stupid dolphins. \n\nHere it was. The moment of truth. I could do this, right? \n\nWith a shaking hand, I reached out and grasped the curtain in my fist. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I had several false-starts of tugging the thing open. \n\nI decided to do it on three. \n\nOne.\n\nTwo.\n\nAs I counted three, I yanked the curtain so hard that the rod holding it came crashing down on top of me, knocking me to the floor. As I struggled to get free of the fabric and metal rod, my eyes came up to the tub and I froze.\n\nWhat I was looking at didn't make any sense at all and I just sat there, blinking stupidly at the sight of myself in the bathtub. My skin was pale and my eyes stared ahead blindly. My mouth hung open, as though I was about to say something. \n\nI clambered up to my feet in disbelief. My naked body soaked before me in water that had turned a cloudy rose-pink. My bare breasts were covered in a coat of rust colored dried blood that had come from the long, wide gash in my neck. My lavender bubblebath sat on the edge of the tub, next to my outstretched hand that gripped one of the knives from the kitchen. \n\nI stumbled backward, a scream tearing from inside me even as I realized: All my life I'd been afraid of this moment." ]	2
	[WP] Two hijackers have boarded a plane. Midflight they attempt to take over the plane only to find that all the other 'passengers' are hijackers too with differing opinions.	[ "On February 20th, 2013 at 4:17 in the afternoon, Megan Ferris got a phone call that she later described as \"weird.\" It was a wrong number. The voice on the other end of the line was nearly drowned out by a cacophony of shouting and arguing in the background. She told the caller that it was a wrong number and put the phone back into her pocket. \n\nExactly three hours and twelve minutes later, she saw a news report on TV about a plane that had crashed in a corn field near Middlefield, Ohio. She later described the event as \"super sad.\"\n\nThe next day at 3:20, there was a breaking news report about the plane crash. Megan would later describe it as \"total bizarro land.\" The newscaster reported that the wreckage had turned up a shocking number (exactly thirty-seven so far) of weapons that had been either improvised or smuggled onto the plane. \n\nThree weeks later, on March 12, 2013, the recording from the black box on the plane was leaked into the online media, and after pushing a play button at 6:58 p.m., Megan Ferris heard what she would later describe as the stupidest recording that she had ever heard in her life.\n", "Lars looked out of the window, a nervous flier in a stormy sky. This wasn't doing him any good, he thought. Canadians needed him, and they needed more recognition in the US, just not at the jokes.\n\nIt was almost midway into the journey. The aircraft would have left ATC coverage by now. He edged his way towards the washroom to take the weapon he smuggled through. Pushing a flight attendant away, he announces: \"Good morning sweeties. Today, I have a dream\"\n\nMohamed, a Pakistani came from the back of the aircraft, dragging a flight attendant by her hair. \"What are you guys doing?\". Before Lars could answer, he recognised a familiar face - \"Pranav, you too? I thought you wanted Sikh rights\". In a short while, all the countries in the world were represented - by hijackers!\n\nThe only ones left were the flight attendant and the two pilots. So they explained the situation to them. The pilots and the attendants belonged to 'neutral organisations'. With the aircraft on autopilot, they could not decide where to go.\n\nIn the end, the attendant suggested. We all want something different. We're out of coverage already. What if we pick a new island and start our own country? A model nation for the world. Between us, we have the skills we need.\n\nAfter minutes of intense discussion, they finally agreed. The pilots took measures to avoid suspicion, ditched MH370 and settled on an island in the South sea.", "\"Everyone stay the fuck down!\"\n\nJared screamed as he held the gun up, towards the crowd.\n\n\"Air Marshall, Freeze!\"\n\nThe Marshall announced loudly, aiming his own gun at Jared... He then snickered and turned it towards the crowd as well.\n\n\"Now listen, this plane isn't landing anywhere, until we have a-\"\n\n\"Wait!\" A man stood up, and began yelling at the hijackers.\n\n\"We were doing this too, what the hell? Who the hell are you people?\"\n\nJared looked around nervously.\n\n\"Uh.. Communist Party of the USA... Who the fuck are you?\" He asked, waving his gun at him.\n\n\"IRA, we were gonna kick things up again this month.\" The old man pulled out a small revolver, and shrugged.\n\n\"Hey, hey, hey. What's all this then?\" A third party stood up, and pulled a sawed off shotgun from his coat. \"My wife and I are members of the Ukrainian-\"\n\n\"Ok, ok WAIT!\" Jared held up his arms, and took a deep breath.\n\n\"How many people are trying to hijack this fucking plane?\"\n\nEvery hand in the plane went up. Some laughs were heard in the back.\n\n\"Oh for fucks sake, are we even going to have enough time and gas to figure out everyone's demands to call in?\" A South african voice was heard saying.\n\n\"How the hell did everyone in this plane get onboard with guns, we took off out of LAX!\" David, the Air Marshall asked, scratching his head.\n\n\"We paid off the TSA guys!\"\n\n\"So did we!\"\n\n\"Paid them off!\"\n\nAlmost everyone in the plane was nodding in agreement. \n\n\"Christ, those guys made a lot of money this afternoon...\" Jared whispered to himself.\n\nSuddenly, out of nowhere, a hostess busted out of the bathroom, brandishing an AK-47. \"Freeze fuckers! I represent the Air Hostess Union, and we-\"\n\n\"Oh shut the fuck up!\" The IRA fighter yelled, inciting everyone to laugh.\n\n\"What the hell?\" The hostess exclaimed.\n\n\"It's a long story, sit down.\" Jared sighed, as he set a piece of paper on the ground.\n\n\"Alright, I want everyone to set their demands in this pile. Then someone is gonna shuffle them, and we'll call down to the ground, and start listing demands until we hit the bottom of our lists, ok?\"\n\nThe passengers nodded in agreement, some had already begun walking around considering the situation. \n\n\"Um, just one problem!\" A voice with a thick middle eastern accent declared from the back.\n\n\"What the hell is it?\" Jared yelled towards the voice.\n\n\"My partner is the mastermind behind this! And we had no idea this was going to happen so...\"\n\nJared shrugged. \"So get him to give you the list? What's the big deal?\"\n\n\"Well that's the thing, I can't tell him, and we don't have a list.. He's the pilot..\"\n\nThe plane began descending sharply, and everyone let out a loud, consecutive \"Fuck!\".", "Rocking back and forth, gazing upon the surfaces of the clouds through the window, Jacob replayed the instructions over and over again in his mind.\n\nNumber one: Stand up.\n\nHe could do that, he’d done that loads of times.\n\nNumber two: Follow what Claire does.\n\nOkay, okay, okay.\n\nNumber three: Don’t fuck anything up.\n\nThat was the kicker, right there. He’d have to work extra hard on number three.\n\nA jab in his ribs, a steadying look from Claire; it was time.\n\nThey steadily rose from their seats. Success! Maybe this hijacking malarkey wasn’t as complicated as he’d thought.\n\nClaire strode down the aisle like a General cutting a path through her troops. Jacob, on the other hand, skulked behind like a goblin with an acute awareness of its own iniquity. He glanced at the passengers in order to calm himself down, but was immediately struck by the abnormality of what he saw.\n\nLooking across the faces filling the cabin, there was a duality that Jacob knew all too well. On one seat would be a shivering wreck, eyes flitting around in their sockets and foreheads damp with perspiration. Next to them, like an anchor attached to a dinghy, there would be that familiar steely resolve; Claire’s resolve. Jacob frowned, turning his head back to focus on Claire’s feet and wiping his forearm across his eyes.\n\nPassing catering, passing the rest rooms, Claire came to a standstill at the door to the cockpit. Without turning around she extended an open palm backwards to Jacob and twitched her fingers.\n\nOh God, I’m supposed to hand her something. What was it? What was it? What do I have? A water bottle? Maybe she’s thirsty, if anything’s likely to build up a thirst it’s hijacking.\n\nShe impatiently wiggled her hand while holding an ear against the door.\n\nOh no oh no oh no, I’ve forgotten what she needed. Okay, confidence is key. Just do something, and be confident about it.\n\nWith that, Jacob confidently slapped Claire’s outstretched hand in what he hoped would be accepted as an encouraging high-five.\n\nClaire straightened her back, lifting herself up and slowly performing an about turn. She looked at Jacob the same way a particularly stalwart butcher looks at tofu. Nothing more than a whisper escaped through her gritted teeth.\n\n“Where is the hacksaw?”\n\n“The hacksaw? We were supposed to be bringing a hacksaw?” Jacob’s voice rose a little too high with sheer incredulity, “Christ Claire, we’re hijacking a plane, not robbing a bank in an olde time cartoon! Do you want a ten tonne anvil, too?”\n\nIt was the nerves which cause Jacob to speak so flippantly, and it was nerves which led him to literally cower in the face of Claire’s admonishment. Thankfully, something glimmered in Jacob’s vision which could very well save him.\n\n“Claire, the door!”\n\nA slither of light shone through the crack where the door left its frame.\n\n“It’s… open.” Claire muttered under her breath. Either this had become the easiest hijacking ever concocted, or something was awry.\n\nAs she pushed on the door, they both gasped at the scene which was playing out before us. A tall, broad-shouldered man was holding a gun to the pilot, pushing the barrel into his temple. Next to him, a far spindlier man held the pistol aloft more as an offering to the co-pilot than as any sort of threat. As Claire and Jacob looked at them, and as they looked back, it all became clear to Jacob what was going on.\n\nThis is a di-jacking!\n\nWith that, a large group of people simultaneously rose up from their seats in the cabin and screamed out “Hey, this is our hijacking!”\n\nThis sent out a huge tumult all the way down the plane, with people arguing over theirs being the cleanest method, or the most worthy cause. One was a dentist who had planned a hijacking using only a toothbrush in order to make a fairly tenuous point about the importance of tooth hygiene. Another was a helicopter enthusiast / saboteur looking to discredit aeroplane safety. One particularly strange man had set up a hijacking via an intricate Rube Goldberg system of levers and pullies which were supposed to knock out the pilot via a knock on the head from an oversized domino. No-one talked to him.\n\nGood God, Jacob thought despairingly, This is an omni-jacking.", "\"Hide those cables\", I started to get stressed. We were about to take off and Jane's cables were in plain sight. \"They're going to notice it\". \n\nJane and I started working out our plan a few months ago. We invited two companions to hijack this plane with us: Eric and Jerome. It wasn't until a few months later that Eric and Jerome went their own way. They didn't value our motives, yet knew we had to do it.\n\n\"Here she goes\", Jane said. We felt the plane driving faster. \"This is our moment, Kane, this is the moment we can make a difference\". Our motives were simple: we had to hijack this plane to improve air security. We were fed up with all these terrorist attacks and hijacks. We had to prove it wasn't going well, had to show the leaks. Even if it killed us.\n\nI got pushed back into my chair as we took off. My heart was beating faster than it ever had before. This was the day I was going to make the difference I had always wanted in life. From birth my goals was to become unforgettable. To be read about in history books. To be seen as the hero that saved countless lives. And this was the best way to do it.\n\nI had never seen Jane this happy. It was almost evil. We worked out our plan: we get up during the flight, start yelling we are hijacking the plane, make the pilot land and start communicating with the authorities afterwards. It was a solid plan. It took months of preparation. It even involved hiring a hitman to kill Eric and Jerome. If you can't do it one way, you gotta do it the other way.\n\nI heard some rumbling behind me. It didn't really occur to me that much that there were about 200 other people on this flight. The people right behind me seemed nervous. But I flew before, I know people get nervous.\n\nI hear the seat belt light going out. It was almost time. We said we'd do it 20 minutes after the light would go out. Time for a good drink first. I eased my mind a bit and saw the steward coming our way.\n\n\"Good morning, sir. What can I get you?\", he asked, with a slight bitter undertone. I asked him how he was doing. Just like any kind steward he said he was alright. Yet the undertone in his voice made me feel otherwise. I asked him again, pointing out that he sounded a bit bitter. \n\n\"It's just the usual, he said. We're an hour late due to hijack threats\". I started laughing internally. He will be in for a surprise.\n\n\"I see, well, was the danger cleared?\", I asked. \"Yes, yes sir, there is no threat right now\". It seemed like an ironic answer, cause I knew it'd be otherwise.\n\n\"EVERYBODY HANDS UP!\", I heard from the back of the plane. I freaked out. How could this happen? Do the authorities know about us? I didn't dare look back to see who it was. \n\n\"Put your hands up or we will blow up the plane\", I heard a second voice say. The letters W, T and F were all that was left in my mind right now. A second hijack? We hadn't even done ours yet. We were still 10 minutes away.\n\n\"No, you put your hands up\". The steward got up and opened his shirt. Jane freaked out. I freaked out. The steward was wearing a bomb vest and holding a wired button in his left hand. I couldn't handle it for a second, this was not where I thought my day was headed. Danger by the time we landed, sure. But danger up in the air? Our plan was ruined.\n\nI couldn't take it anymore, I got up. \"You!\", I yelled at the steward. \"Come over here!\". The steward looked confused and started laughing. \"I said, come over here!\" The other passengers were looking at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was, all I knew is that I had to make the best out of our own situation, I still wanted credits for this hijack and I wasn't going down in history on a passengers death list.\n\nJane was looking at me. I nodded at her. She knew this was the signal. Jane got up and took of her shirt. Now, I know we had a lot more preparation than the steward, but Jane's vest was really, really advanced. You have to imagine a teletubby-like bomb vest including a timer, a screen and a camera. We were going to film the entire hijack. I guess all we're filming now is a terrorist stand-off.\n\nThe other passengers started yelling. There was some Chinese, some Arabic, but mainly just of pile of 'shits' and 'fucks' flying around from every corner in the plane.\n\nA team of 5 people got up, pulling guns and threatening to kill every one of us. This was just met with lots of laughter from the other passengers. That's when I realized I wasn't the only person here the hijack the plane. It seemed everybody was.\n\nI had to find a good solution. I had to get out here safely yet become a hero. I needed to get a plane, yet first it involved getting the other hijackers to give up their plans. \n\n\"I am serious\", I started yelling. \"I will kill every single one of you, be prepared to meet my gods\". There was a silence from the plane. \"Your gods?\", someone asked. \"Yes, Jane will blow up this entire plane and take you to heaven with us.\"\n\nThere was some laughter from the crowd, yet panic. It was probably the dumbest line I ever said. Yet something snapped in their brains. I completely destroyed their motives. There was no goal for them, no eternal life, no virgins, just my own made up heaven -- at least that's what I hoped they were thinking. I actually had no idea and really just needed them to calm the hell down.\n\nIt somehow worked. \"If I ever have to re-tell this story I am definitely going to write a better line for that, I can't believe they fell for this\", I thought. I just didn't have the time now. I needed to focus.\n\n\"I will blow all of you up!\", I repeated as I was walking to the cockpit. Jane brought a small, harmless bomb to open the cockpit door. \"Hurry up, Jane, blow that sucker out\", I frantically started yelling. I was totally into this. This was going to be my moment. \n\nA small explosion followed and the door to the cockpit was open. \"Shit!\", I yelled as I looked at the pilot. The pilot was dead. I looked to the right, looking straight into the barrel of a gun. \"I have some bad news for you\", the co-pilot said. \"I'm hijacking this plane\".\n\n\"You've got to be kidding me\", I said. I couldn't take it anymore. Something in my head just snapped and made me feel totally out of control. I grabbed the gun and his arm. \"No, you're not\", I said as I looked him straight into his eyes. \"I am hijacking this plane\". The look on his face was priceless. It was as if he saw his last glimpse of hope fly out the window and get slashed in the plane engine.\n\nI told him to land the plane. I told him to find the first airfield we could land at. And, to my very own surprise, he did. He listened. He listened very well, as if there was a gun aimed at his head. Which made sense, because at that exact moment I was aiming the gun at this head.\n\nThe whole situation and the nerves just made me zone out. Jane was there with me all along, she was the one that kept me on track. \"Stay clear, Jack\", she must've said it a hundred times. \n\nIt must have been 30 minutes before I really got back to my senses. We landed at the airfield and I got completely back in control. \n\nIt was time to contact the authorities. I was too excited by this. This was the moment I had been living up to for months now, and it finally reached the end. I could see the finish line, I could taste the heroism that would overcome me in the next decades. \n\nI could see the news headlines already:\n\"Jack and Jane hijacked a hijacked plane\"", "Jason motioned to Harvey with his head and the two stood. They made their way down the aisle toward the front of the cabin.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to take your seat. The fasten seatbelt sign is lit.\" \n\nJason sighed and reached into his back pocket. He extracted the weapon - a jagged piece of glass from a jar he had broken in the airplane bathroom. The flight attendant's eyes went wide. \n\n\"Silver,\" she shouted as Jason took her into a chokehold. \"Silver!\" \n\nA man toward the front of the plane stood, sweeping his coat to the side and revealing a gun that pointed at Jason, who gave Harvey another head motion and slammed himself down on the ground, taking the flight attendant with him and rolling over so she was on top of him. \n\nJason couldn't see what was going on, but he heard the shouts and the commotion of the passengers. Other people were yelling, standing up. He pushed the flight attendant to the side, the glass cutting into his own hand as he popped back up on his feet and brandished it. \n\nThe Air Marshal was on the floor. Jason looked around for Harvey, who was standing and looking perplexed near one of the lavatories. \n\nTwo women were standing toward the front of the cabin. One of them had a high heel shoe in hand, the other was stepping onto the back of the Air Marshal. \n\nThree other people stood up. \n\n\"I'm afraid we're taking control of this plane,\" Jason announced to them. The woman toward the front of the cabin narrowed their eyes.\n\n\"Non. I'm afraid that we are taking control of this plane.\" \n\nThe three other men who had stood declared that they, too, were taking control of the plane. \n\nIn a sudden wave of motion every passenger seemed to be standing. There was an overhead announcement and flight attendants were backing into the galleys, unsure of what to do. Every passenger seemed to have a weapon.\n\n\"We cannot all take over the plane!\" the French woman at the front of the cabin exclaimed. \"We can fight to the death!\" \n\n\"Why not just let the plane go down? Every organization can claim it is their fault. No one will ever know the truth!\" a man toward the back interjected.\n\n\"No!\" Jason yelled. \"We were first. We're taking control of the plane.\"\n\n\"We took down the Air Marshal,\" shouted the woman with the heel. \n\n\"We prepared explosives using vials only containing 3oz of liquid! We are the most impressive. We should get to take over the plane!\" someone else yelled.\n\nThe commotion was deafening. Jason and Harvey moved together with their hands over their ears.\n\n\"Quiet, quiet, quiet,\" someone shouted. \"There's only one way to solve this! It is a method tried and tested over the years that cannot be cheated. A way to find the true winner in us all.\" \n\n\"What?\" asked the woman with the heel.\n\n\"We play rock, paper, scissors.\" \n\n---\n\nThanks for reading :). If you enjoyed it, head over and subscribe to r/Celsius232 for more stories. \n\n" ]	6
Inspired by these comments from /u/thepeoplesbard >Irrational hatreds are sort of beautiful to me. Your every day, vanilla hatreds are boring. Oh, you're a racist? I've seen that before. You hate baby penguins? Now that's fucked up. Please tell me more. and /u/stock_is_locked >You know theres a story behind them, bigots, racists, etc are usually just propagating what they were taught or observed as children. The outlandish unique hatreds usually have juicy backstories. https://www.reddit.com/r/movies/comments/4mpoot/im_in_a_cinema_fraternity_and_we_host_weekly/d3xcv58	[WP] You have an irrational hatred of something mundane like the movie Ratatouille, ketchup, or baby penguins. What's the backstory?	[ "INT. Bedroom - Morning\n\nTED (42) is sleeping in his bed in a t-shirt and pj pants. He's covered up with the blanket and a little of the cool morning light peeks around the edges of the blinds.\n\nKIM (41) walks in the room with a robe and kisses his forehead.\n\nKIM\n\nMerry Christmas.\n\nTED stretches and groans. He sits up and smiles at KIM\n\nTED\n\nMerry Christmas. You wanna come back to bed and lay here with me for a while.\n\nKIM\n\nNo. I have a surprise for you. Put your robe on and follow me.\n\nEXT. Front Yard - Continuous\n\nKIM is standing in the open doorway of the house waiting for TED. He walks out the door and KIM's smile grows as she waits for his reaction. \n\nTED walks past the shiny Acura with the bow on it and gets in his ten year old Chevy and drives away.\n\nKIM pulls out her phone and calls TED's cell. It rings twice and goes to voicemail.\n\nKIM\n\nWhat is the matter with you? I thought you'd be happy I got you a new car!\n\nINT. Bar - Night\n\nA dimly lit hole in the wall filled with the kind of people you'd expect in a bar on Christmas Day, including TED in his pajamas and robe.\n\nThe door swings open and lets the cold air in. CHRIS (18) walks in and sits next to TED.\n\nCHRIS\n\nYou know Kim's looking for you? She doesn't know why you took off. Said she bought you a new car for Christmas.\n\nTED\n\nYeah, a fucking Acura.\n\nCHRIS\n\nJesus. She didn't know man.\n\nTED\n\nYeah, how's she supposed to know. Never really got around to that conversation.\n\nTED chuckles and looks down at his drink.\n\nWe got in a fender bender with one at a mall parking lot one time. I started kicking the guy's grille in and threatening to kill him and his family.\n\nCHRIS\n\nYou should talk to her about this man.\n\nTED\n\nYeah. I probably should.\n\nINT. Kim's house - Day\n\nKim's phone rings. An unkown number. She answers it.\n\nTED\n\nHi Kim\n\nKIM\n\nYou've got a lot of nerve calling me! You don't come home, you don't call for two weeks! I should hang up on you right now.\n\nTED\n\nPlease don't hang up Kim. I've only got one call and I just wanted to explain to you why I left on Christmas. After I drove off I went to a bar and I got drunk. I stayed in a cheap hotel near the bar for a bit. One day I was getting ready to go to the bar again but the snow was coming down so hard the cabs weren't running. I decided to walk instead. On the way there I came across an Acura dealer. Now I'm in jail for smashing thirteen headlights and seven windshields.\nI'm not calling you to bail me out. I just wanted to tell you it's not your fault and you couldn't have known.\n\nKIM\n\nWhat is the matter? Why do you hate these cars so much?\n\nTED\n\nYou never met my brother, Chris. He was the smart one, really going places. He graduated highschool valedictorian, had a full ride to Harvard. My parents were so proud they got him an Acura for his graduation gift.\n\nHe went to a graduation party later that week. He got in a fender bender on the way home, nothing serious. His airbag went off though. It was defective and instead of a cushion of air to minimize some minor whiplash he got a face full of shrapnel. He was lifeflighted to the hospital where he stayed on a ventilator for 18 hours. He died from a fucking airbag.\n\nMy parents took Acura to court for it. They weren't looking for a huge payout. Just wanted to have them pay the medical bills and to protect other families from the same thing. Didn't matter though. They said since Chris had a couple beers even though he was under the legal limit that the accident was his fault.\n\nLike I said, it's not your fault. I thought I could finally move on. Looks like I was wrong. You should move on and find someone who treats you as good as you deserve. Don't wait for me.\n\nKIM\n\nTed, we could go to counseling. We could work this out.\n\nINT. Jail - Continuous\n\nTED hangs up the payphone and walks back to the guard.", "In retrospect, after midnight on a Friday evening in college is not the best time to make a deep, mind-shattering discovery about your best friend.\n\n\"Are you serious?\" I howled across the table at Barry, pelting him with Hershey Kisses. \"You don't like chocolate? Man, what's wrong with you!\"\n\nBarry did his best to block the shower of small projectiles, but he didn't want to let go of his beer bottle, so several of the little foil-wrapped chocolates pinked off the glass container. \"Nothing's wrong!\" he insisted. \"I just don't like the stuff, okay?\"\n\n\"Nuh uh, not okay,\" I said, shaking my head vehemently back and forth. With all the booze sitting in my stomach and pestering my liver, the head-shaking gesture made the room spin unsteadily, but I clamped both of my hands over my ears until the wooziness passed. \"Who doesn't like chocolate?\"\n\n\"It's really nothing,\" Barry protested.\n\nI looked around at the girls in the room with us. We'd found these two in the little corner store when we stumbled in, searching for munchies. The blonde one smiled at me with that sexy smirk that promises so much to a drunken college kid, I spotted the family size bag of chocolates, and very smoothly invited them back to our apartment to \"hang\" and help us eat through the bag. The blonde now leaned against my arm in a very soft and inviting way, and her brunette friend was curled up against Barry. Total win for the night.\n\nAt least, up until Barry decided to make his stance against chocolate.\n\n\"What do you think, Ellie?\" I asked the blonde leaning against me, letting my hand boldly drop another couple inches down her back towards that pert little ass of hers. \n\nShe just grinned as my hand curled around her. Goddamn, yoga pants are awesome. \"I think it's weird,\" she agreed. \"Tell us why not!\"\n\n\"Yeah, tell us!\" piped up Ellie's brunette friend. I still hadn't caught her friend's name, but she was short and had a very generous amount of bouncy cleavage on display, which totally made her Barry's type. \"Tell us and I'll flash you!\"\n\n\"Can't resist that,\" I pointed out, as Ellie's warmth pressed against me, counterpoint to the warm fuzziness in my head.\n\nBarry rolled his eyes. \"Oh, fine. Look, it's a stupid kid thing. Dylan, you know how my parents are divorced, right?\"\n\nI nodded. I'd met both of them, of course, during our years of living together. Nice folks, but I'd learned not to let both of them into the same room together. Acid and water - a violent explosion.\n\n\"Well, the final straw for their marriage was at Disneyland,\" Barry continued. \"See, we were staying at this all-inclusive hotel, and I guess they just couldn't take each other any longer. They started screaming after dinner, throwing things across the room, and I went running away.\"\n\nI frowned. \"And this has to do with chocolate?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it does. See, I went running away, but I couldn't leave the hotel, because I was only about six years old. So I ended up down in the cafeteria area, but since it was after dinner, they'd packed away everything except the dessert table.\"\n\nBarry sighed. \"And there, in the middle of the table, the only thing still running, was a massive fountain of chocolate, for fondue.\"\n\n\"I like fondue - it's a funny word,\" giggled big-boobs brunette, who didn't appear to be listening to the story too much.\n\nI flapped a hand at her. \"So what, you ate a bunch of the fondue?\"\n\n\"Not a bunch,\" Barry corrected me. \"Seriously, most of it. I stuck a glass into there and just started drinking. By the time that my mom came down and found me, the fountain was making grinding noises because there wasn't enough liquid in it any longer. Probably at least two or three pounds' worth.\"\n\nI winced at the thought. \"That probably didn't settle well.\"\n\n\"Nope. Up all night, brown - and I'm not talking just about chocolate - streaming out both ends of me.\" Barry grimaced. \"Plus, you know, learning that my parents were getting divorced.\"\n\nI looked down at the Hershey Kisses in my hand. \"Okay. It kind of makes sense, now.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Too bad, since it tastes so good,\" Ellie piped up, popping one of the Kisses into her mouth. The chocolate still melting on her tongue, she leaned in and kissed my arm, leaving a brown smudge behind - and then slowly, sensually licked it off of my arm with her tongue. I didn't have to work hard to get her message.\n\n\"Hey, wait!\" I protested. \"Barry told the story, so now - er, your friend - has to flash us!\"\n\nEllie stood up. \"Tell you what. You can either sit here and let her flash you, or you can take me to your room, and see what I'll do to you.\" She winked at me, waggled her ass in my face, and then headed off towards the apartment's bedrooms.\n\nThe choice was a no-brainer. \"See you tomorrow, Barry,\" I said, hopping up and charging after that sexy blonde. \"Sorry about the chocolate thing!\"\n\n\"Yeah, no worries,\" he called after me. The brunette on the couch next to him started squirming around, and even I had to pause for a moment at the sight of her movements. God, I loved college.\n\nJust as I headed around the corner to find Ellie and see what sort of fun activities she had in mind, however, I heard the brunette speak up. \"So, you wanna lick chocolate off of me?\"\n\nHah. Let Barry deal with that one. My stomach filled with sweetness and my head slightly woozy with alcohol, I put thoughts of my best friend out of my head.\n\n****\n\nYou're not subscribed to enough subs with stories. Here's one to fix that: /r/Romanticon", "\"Do you have a pen?\" I ask the bank teller. \"The ones out here don't work.\"\n\nShe smiles and reaches into a drawer. \"Here you go,\" she says, handing me a black pen.\n\nI let out a high-pitched shriek and hit the pen out of the woman's hand. It rolls onto the floor toward a man talking to the next teller over and they both pause their transaction to stare at me. The woman who handed me the pen withdraws her hand and gapes at me and I feel my face growing hot. \n\nBile is creeping up my throat. I turn around and I run outside and I throw up in the nearest trash can. When I look up, I see that everyone in the bank is staring at me through the glass doors, their faces frozen in shock. Great. Here I am, a grown-ass man trying to run a grown-ass errand, throwing up in public because a kind old woman tried to hand me a pen. \n\nAll I can think to do next is run. I run as fast as my stubby little legs will take me. My car is still parked in front of the bank, and my check hasn't been cashed, but I'm not thinking. I'm just running. All I know is that I need to get as far away as I can. \n\nI have no idea how long I've been running or how far I've come. I don't know where I am. I do know that I passed civilization ages ago, after I veered into the trees along the road. I'm in the thick of it now, dodging branches and jumping over rocks and kicking up dirt. My chest is throbbing and every breath is a struggle. My legs are growing weaker with every stride. But I will not stop because I won't let them get me again. \n\nThe black pen is how they got me last time. \n\nWhen I sat in that big comfy chair, and that man asked me what I was thinking and I told him, he took out his black pen and it made that awful click-click sound and he wrote down everything I said. And then the men in white came and carried me away. \n\nThey told me I was going to live in a new place for a while. And when I got to the new place there was more click-clicking and they put the pen in my hand and they made me sign my name on a piece of paper. And then I sat in the room. At first I screamed and kicked and cried and punched, but they wouldn't let me out. So I gave up. I just sat and waited and sat and waited in that tiny white room. \n\nAnd then seventeen years later the same man from before came in, only this time he was holding a blue pen. He asked me what I was thinking again and I told him and he wrote down what I said. And then the men in white said I could leave, and they gave me another blue pen and another piece of paper and they made me sign my name. And then I walked out the door. \n\nI can't let the men in white come back for me again. The black pen brings them. So I'm still running and I will never stop. \n\nThose people at the bank probably think I'm crazy. \n", "Marcus was surprised how far this argument had gotten. All he had stated was that he didnt like The Hunger Games. He'd underestimated how much of a fan his date was. And, for that matter, how strong of an opinion he had about storytelling.\n\n\"I just can't stand present tense narration. It's a shitty way to tell a story,\" he opined.\n\nTilda can't believe this. When she first brought up literature they had so much in common. And now this comes up. Not liking romance or something like that she can understand. How can this be the literary dealbreaker for him?\n\n\"But present tense narration gives a sense of immediacy. Like you're right there in the action with the characters. Besides, its not like everyone's doing it. It's just nice to have a change of pace once in a while.\"\n\nMarcus wasn't sold on this idea, and at this point he wasn't going to back down. \"But you're not* in there with the characters,\" he replied. \"It's all written down in the book. The story is already told and you're just reading it. It breaks suspension of disbelief. You can't just have the book pretend like the events are currently happening.\"\n\nThis is the first time Tilda has heard of a writing style breaking suspension of disbelief. And certainly the first time anyone's been so opinionated about it. And she realizes it doesn't fit with something he said before.\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait,\" she says, \"you told me earlier you really liked those SCP stories. You're saying that you're on board with a narrative being told through an image-based chat between sentient AI, but narration in the present tense is a bridge too far?\"\n\n\"Well those are different,\" he countered. \"The weird narration is the point there. With the present tense it's sort of like normal, but not quite, and it feels really off-putting.\"\n\nTilda scoffs at that. \"So, what, there's an uncanny valley of narration?\" she says.\n\n\"Exactly,\" Marcus agreed. He was glad she finally understood the problem. \"I can't believe anyone with a brain would like that.\"\n\nTilda rolls her eyes. Does he already not remember that she likes that? She starts wondering when the food will arrive. This isn't the worst blind date she's been on, but the night is still young. \"And here I thought my hangup about said bookisms was irrational,\" she says.\n\n\"...what are 'said booksisms'?\" Marcus inquired.\n\n\"It's that thing where authors use a whole bunch of awkward words instead of just 'said' in their dialog tags,\" she says. \"You know, like when all those characters start ejaculating in Harry Potter.\" Marcus gave her a funny look. \"Oh you know what I mean.\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Marcus replied. \"I mean, there's a limit, but real speech has aspects that can't be captured with just text.\"\n\n\"Nonsense. A good writer can convey the tone through text alone. It's just another way to show, not tell. Especially because sometimes you need to drop the dialog tags to improve flow.\"\n\n\"Oh God, I hate it when authors do that. You ever read A Farewell to Arms? Hemingway was terrible about it. Makes conversations way too hard to follow.\"\n\n\"No, I never read that book. Was it that bad?\"\n\n\"Yeah, and he'd even leave in the meaningless crap people say to fill the void in conversations.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"Huh.\"\n\n\"Makes the conversation even harder to follow.\"\n\n\"So why'd you read the book then?\"\n\n\"It wasn't by choice,\" Marcus hissed. \"My dickbag English teacher assigned it. He loved all that modernist crap. He spent the entire year on it. Hated every minute of it. Ended up giving me a D after I wrote my final essay on how much I hated it. Asshole.\" He realized he'd said that last bit louder than he'd intended. A few people at the restaurant had turned their heads.\n\nAt least he's consistent, Tilda thinks. \"So is that why you're so...intense about these things,\" she says, \"or is there more to this story?\"\n\n\"Well, sort of. I had him again the next year and he spent the whole time on postmodern literature. Like that was any better,\" Marcus growled. \"Bunch of douchebags trying too hard to be clever and meta and shit.\"\n\nTilda smiles. She and Marcus have finally found something they can agree on again. \"Yeah,\" she says, \"I don't think anyone likes that.\"", "Sammy looked at the smiling faces of his family and friends all around him, and drew a deep breath.\n\nBefore he could blow out the candles, a man crashed through the roof, landing on the pile of brightly wrapped parcels nearby. He was dressed in a yellow unitard with a purple cape that fluttered without wind.\n\nStunned silence descended on the room. His parents had never looked so frightened in life. Next moment, however, all the kids were screaming with delight.\n\n\"Sir Powerpunch!\" they cried, crowding around him. Who hadn't heard of the mighty hero who could stop a train with one hand? Who could withstand a tank blast, who could fly? Ten out of ten dentists recommended the toothpaste he used, and his dental commercials had the endorsement of the president himself.\n\nBut unlike his TV appearances, Sir Powerpunch wasn't smiling now. He pushed past the children and stared at Sammy's cake.\n\n\"Do you want a slice, sir?\" Sammy asked timidly.\n\nThe superhero grimaced. \"I'll take ... the whole goddamn thing!\"\n\nGrabbing the cake, he flung it out of the window. Thirty minutes later, it would land somewhere in Ecuador, on some housewife's laundry, but in that moment, nobody made any noise. Until Sammy began to cry.\n\n\"S—sir, why did you—\"\n\nSir Powerpunch merely sneered. \"Birthday cakes are for products of incest and dick warts. And you sure don't look like a wart to me.\"\n\nWith that, he took flight once more, tearing their roof a new one.\n\n*\n\nWithin the next hour, Sir Powerpunch stopped three bank robberies (one of them was a just a prank, but he broke their legs anyway), saved all the passengers from a capsizing cruise ship (he dropped the ship on a freeway) and rescued a pet alligator stuck on a tree (\"Don't ask\", said the owner).\n\nAs he was soaring in the air again, his super-senses were triggered by way of an itch behind his right ear. Some people nearby were singing a birthday song. A cake was involved. He could almost smell the icing.\n\nSwooping toward the house in question, his thoughts drifted to his past ...\n\n\n\n\"Whose birthday is it?\" Mother said, beaming as she carried a large chocolate cake to the table.\n\n\"Mine,\" eight-year-old Charlie said, eyeing the frosting eagerly. \"Mine mine mine.\"\n\nFather roared with laughter and slapped him on the face. \"Wrong, idiot.\"\n\nHe blinked away the tears, jaw ringing from the blow. Mother placed the cake carefully in front of a teddy bear with one missing eye. \"Happy birthday, sweetie,\" she said, brushing the stuffed toy's head.\n\n\"It's my birthday,\" Charlie whined.\n\nFather slapped him again; this time, he tasted blood. \"Shut up. It's Sir Powerpunch's birthday. Isn't it, Sir Powerpunch?\" He tickled the bear's chin.\n\nMoisture flowed freely from his eyes now, but instead of crying, a low growl began rumbling in his throat. Gritting his teeth, Charlie struggled against the manacles and chains strapping him to the chair. \"It's mine!\"\n\n\"Not if you stay in that chair,\" Mother said. She cut a huge chunk of cake and placed it in front of Sir Powerpunch. \"Eat up, sweetie.\"\n\n\"No!\" With a scream, Charlie tore his right arm free of his restraints, snapping the chain links. Ever since he'd had cake when he was two, it'd been his favorite food, which his parents had unfortunately remembered. Each year, he would be forced to sit in this horrible chair, while his father smeared cake on the bear's mouth.\n\nTwice a month, Father would dangle cake before him, while Mother injected him with various fluids that made him sleepy and angry in turn. \"You can have cake,\" they promised. \"But only if you leave that chair.\"\n\nNot this year. He wasn't going to let that stupid bear have his cake again. With a powerful shout that shook the walls of his house, he tore free and hurled himself across the table. Gripping Sir Powerpunch by the ears, he ripped the toy in half, right down the middle, before turning to face his parents, fists clenched.\n\nTo his surprise, his parents' faces were shining with pride and joy. Mother was actually sobbing. Father said, \"Son ... happy birthday.\"\n\n\"Have some cake,\" Mother said.\n\nHe stared at the cake and swallowed. A second became a minute ... Mother's hand began to tremble, rattling the plate she was holding.\n\nCharlie raised a foot. \"I don't want cake anymore,\" he screamed, stomping down on the chocolate mound.\n\n\n\nSir Powerpunch burst through the ceiling and landed beside a table. On it, there was a cake with seven lit candles, beside a tablet. It was playing a video of children singing a birthday song, while a man conducted them. The man looked like a clown; his hat appeared to be made a huge, multi-leveled cake.\n\n\"—birthday to you!\" the kids finished in a chorus.\n\n\"Ah, we have a special guest here today with us,\" the man said, waving at the camera. \"Say hello to Sir Powerpunch.\"\n\nSir Powerpunch approached the tablet slowly. \"What is this?\"\n\n\"This is a dedication to you, my friend,\" the clown said. \"All over the world, you've been foiling my best laid plans. How many of my henchmen have you defeated? How much of my money has been wasted by your efforts?\"\n\n\"I don't know who you are.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess you'll never know.\" The clown smiled. \"Say goodbye to Sir Powerpunch, kids.\"\n\n\"Goodbye!\"\n\nSir Powerpunch balled his hands. \"When I find you, I'll—\"\n\nBefore he could finish, the micro-nuke beneath the house exploded.\n\n\n\nFor more stories, check out [The Nonsense Locker](http://reddit.com/r/nonsenselocker)!*" ]	5
	[wp]The two nominees for a countries presidency are both shot and killed before either can win the election.	[ "\"Yes, I did it - well the security services did. It was for the good of the nation, I'm sure you understand.\nHillary was more corrupt than me, and Trump, well we all know why Trump had to go.\"\n\n\n\"I prevented the United States from becoming the laughing stock of the Western world. Now the election will be between the runners up. I'm gonna mop up Ted Cruz like a Grease spill. After that, well, I won't even have to cheat to win this election.\"\n\nBernie Sanders winked at the camera, before standing up to give a press release.", "America rejoiced as they soon realized that they didn't have to pick between two terrible candidates. Soon a week had passed and a potential candidate emerged. This quickly became a larger kerfuffle for America as the candidate was in fact a unicorn. This unicorn went by the name of Lester The Jester Unicorn (Who Later Became King). The populace became aware that Lester in fact came from an alternative universe where humans were extinct and animals reigned supreme in an ever changing powers struggle between multiple alliances and kingdoms. Lester was the ultimate victor in his world and decided that he would go to the human world via his magical advisors. America is the start of his glorious campaign. Humanity didn't even see it coming. " ]	2
	[WP] You open the fridge to find a head. - What happens next?	[ "I awoke from my slumber a little peckish. I sat up on my bed and looked at the nightstand to check the time. It is two in the morning and I’m feeling hungry now? Should I wait to eat breakfast in the morning or just have a little snack to ease my hunger. I don’t feel like trying to go back to bed, so I get up and walk to the kitchen. \n\nI do not bother with turning on any lights as I make my way to the fridge. There is no point of turning anything on if I will need to turn them off in a couple minutes. Finally getting to the fridge, I grope around in the darkness searching for the handle. I drowsily found the handle and opened the door to see what was good to eat tonight. I immediately turned away from what I saw inside and started to get a little nauseous. I fell to the ground, not being able to hold up my body with shake legs. What the hell did I just see in my fridge? This cannot be happening right now. I’m still not fully awake so It could be my eyes playing tricks on me. I built up some courage to look back inside the fridge to see that the decapitated human head was still there. \n\nI jumped awake from my terrible nightmare. I was horrified by what I saw in my dream and how real it felt. I looked at the clock to see it was now seven in the morning and time to start getting ready for work in an hour. I felt dried up sweat along my body as I got out of bed. It must have been the nightmare that caused me to sweat so much so I clumsily moved through my dark room to the bathroom to start the shower. While the water was heating up, I turned on my t.v. to check out the morning news. All was well until I saw the picture of a murder victim that I recognized. It was the same person whose head was in my dream. My heartbeat started to rise. This is probably just a coincidence. This news report could be repeating from the previous night. This shower should help me calm down a little. I hopped inside and started to brush off my sweat, but for some reason it was a lot more harder to remove than I previously thought. I looked down to see what the problem was. It was not sweat." ]	1
	[WP] Years ago, you were wished into existence by a ten year old with a genie. Today is your first group therapy meeting.	[ "Mommy glanced around the room; it looked like everyone had shown up. She was slightly worried she hadn’t made enough brownies, cupcakes, rice crispy treats and hot cocoa. In the front of the room stood Daddy; he was tall, and handsome and strong enough to beat up anyone else’s father without even trying. They were the perfect parents. \n \n“Quiet down everyone! It’s time to start. Now, you all know that Alex, our pride and joy, has just started college. Without her here, it’s become clear that we don’t know what to do with ourselves throughout the day.” \n\n\nA string of sad growls and howls came from where Alex’s best friends were seated. \n\n\nDaddy continued, “So I have decided that we will meet once a week to find new ways of being the best we can be for Alex, even if we can’t be with her. I suggest we brain storm ideas. Who wants to go first?” \n\n\nA clawed hand rose. Dragon cleared his throat carefully. \n\n\n“Ever since Alex wished us into existence, we’ve lived to protect her and make her popular. I know she said she doesn’t want us at the college with her so she can try to make friends on her own, but maybe if she doesn’t know we’re there we can keep an eye on her. I can hardly sleep without knowing if she is well or not. Surely a nightly flyby would be acceptable?” \n\n\nEveryone murmured approvingly. Alex’s safety was always a number one priority.\nMommy spoke up next. \n\n\n“When Alex first wished for parents, she craved so much love. She needed so much from us and my day was filled with being her perfect mother. She’s grown into such a beautiful, independent women; she hardly needs us anymore. Alex still needs to eat though, and everyone loves presents. Maybe we could organize care packages for her?” \n\n\nThe unicorns whinnied happily. “Yes! We could fill it with cupcakes and rainbows! “ \n\n\nDaddy cleared his throat in the way that everyone’s father does to let them know he had something to say. \n\n\n“These are all fine ideas. Good work everyone. Mommy will have to run the next meeting. Unfortunately NASA and the President need my help again. I will contribute the usual allowance to the box. $1000 is never too much for my little princess. Unless anyone else has anything to contribute this meeting is adjourned.” \n", "\"And I'm just all freaked out about it man. Whats the meaning of everything?\" sarcasm and what felt to some like ridicule circulated through the group. Then silence. Only the ventilation system, 60-cycle hum of two light ballasts, and a miniature refrigerator could be heard. The noise was enough for him to hide his voice under, and he did. \n\n\"Hey\" his voice hushed as he became completely engrossed with reading the woman's name tag \"Judy.\" He looked up and smiled. \"You're not a Prudy Judy are you?\" \n\nTheir conversation would proceed no further. \"Some of us come here to talk about how we feel. Is that a problem to you?\" \n\nShe was facing directly towards him. Her position in the circle directly opposite. Even her chair was squared directly facing him. Combined with her posture she was a virtual arrow on him. \n\nAnd the man noticed too. He knew she was paying more attention to him than he was to her. His half hearted stories and attempts at humor and most certainly his general demeanor insulted her existence. \n\n\"Oh, hey. Lool at the time\" The group leader introjected \"We have a new person... Uh, figment? What do you prefer to go by?\" \n\n\"Ummm... Me? I'm Farty, Party, Wizzle Pants. You can call me Farty Party for short. Nice to meet you all.\" \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You receive a phone call and hear your own voice on the line.	[ "Face down in a dream, I hear the distant ringing of my phone. \n\nThe part of me that's somewhat conscious hears it, anyway. Hears that phone that's been ringing off the hook for probably an hour. Well, maybe an hour, maybe just a few minutes; it's hard to tell when you're asleep how fast or slow time is actually passing. \n\nReluctantly I realize that there's no ignoring this one. I'm going to have to get up and face the day significantly sooner than I'd intended. \n\n\"Fuck\".\n\nI roll over, not even bothering to sit up, thrashing in the general direction of my nightstand. Finding the cell phone, I feel it yank against it's charging cord like one last reluctant tether before letting go, the smooth screen slapping me in the face with the sudden release. \n\nMy partner's voice echos in my head, lecturing me about unplugging it properly and not just tugging on the cord, to extend the life of the charging port. I feel his absence in the bed beside me. Well, he wasn't here to see me do it that time, so we'll just pretend it never happened. \n\nI squint at the display, just in time to miss the call. I can't see much without my glasses anyway. I grab them, managing to smudge them with my fingers several times before getting them on my face. Beautiful. \nGlasses on doesn't seem to help, though; something about the call display doesn't seem right. It's not that it's a number I don't recognize, or the typical \"Unknown Name/Unknown Number\" thing I get. It's just a series of numbers. \n\nSitting up, snapping into a more wakeful state, I recognize the format. It's a date. I puzzle over it as I pet the little orange cat mewing beside me, having woken her up with my general lurching about. She purrs as I consider this strange display, wondering why my phone would even allow a call to log like that. \n\nReady to give up, thinking it a prank from my more tech-savvy friends, I move to put down the phone. It rings again and I jump, startling the cat enough for her to jump down and saunter on to a more stable nap site. \n\nIt's the same date again. This time, though, it seems the time stamp that came along with it had advanced a few hours. \n\nStrange. \n\nMoving to answer it, I realize I'm shaking. I don't even have time to be angry at myself, to be angry for being afraid of a trick phone call, before I tap the screen. \n\n\"...Hello?\"\n\nMy inquiry is met with hysterical crying. Something about it has my skin prickling something fierce, with a fear and a strange familiarity. There's noise in the background, so loud that it's distorted beyond recognition over the small speaker. \n\n\"Hey, who is this? Are you okay?\"\n\n\"Oh, my god\" she answers. I answer. \"Oh my god, it's you\".\n\n\"What the fuck kind of prank is this?\"\n\n\"I didn't know it would be you, I'm so, so sorry.\"\n\nMy own voice, struggling to hold back what sounded like full on hysteria, apologized to me. Cried to me, screamed as something like an explosion seemed to sound near to her. \n\n\"What? What's going on, why are you sorry? What do you mean-\"\n\n\"They never told me it would be y-\"\n\nSomething loud, almost metallic screeched, blending with her... no. With my voice on the other end as I screamed in a way that surely tested the limits of the human vocal cord. \n\nThe call dropped. \n\nThe cat, having decided that there was nowhere better in the house to be right now, jumped up beside me and purred as she pressed her warm body against my leg. It did little to fight the chill that spread through me as I stared at the strange date about two months from now, displayed in my recent call log at the very top. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The Pope is due to make a speech in an hour, one of the kitchen staff made pot brownies, the Pope eats two, unaware of what they contain.	[ "For twenty years he'd been working in the Vatican. Three different Popes, three different ways of running a church. This one, was different though. There was something about him. \n\nThe captain of The Swiss guard heard him chuckle every once in a while from behind the door. He wondered what was happening, but a lot of people were panicking and running in and out of the room. He didn't know why and it wasn't his job to know. He had dreamt of protecting the pope from all harm since he was thirteen. \n\nHe heard something about 'a servant' and 'going to hell' when two cardinals came out of the room. The pope saw the guard and implored him to come in. \n\n\"But Your Holiness, this is not protocol.\"\n\n\"Dios, just get in. It's not like He's stopping you.\"\n\nThe guard took a couple of steps towards the pope but remained in a perfect posture. \n\n\"Would you just chill out dude. It's going to be fine.\" Said the pope. \n\n\"What do you mean Your Holiness?\" \n\n\"You don't know? Well, I guess that explains a couple of things. Apparently I've eaten some edible marijuana and the cardinals want to postpone my speech, until I am 'better'.\"\n\n\"Sir, this is a disaster! Someone drugged you? How did they breach the perimeter? How did it happen? How are you going to do the speech now?\" \n\n\"Keep your panties in a bunch. It'll all be fine. Dios, sit down, relax already.\"\n\n\"But Your Holiness...\"\n\n\"Oh shut up Luka.\"\n\nThe guard sat down. Flustered. \n\n\"You... You know my name? How do you? Who would you?\" \n\n\"Why did you join the Swiss Guard Luka?\" \n\n\"What could be more noble then protecting te holiest man on Earth?\"\n\n\"It's not about nobility Luka. It's not about the pay or even about religion. I myself don't know what to believe anymore. In these times of uncertainty, everyones first doubt is religion. But I do know this though. I embody an idea, a belief. Even though the light of Christianity is flickering compared to what it used to be, God is still important for millions. I don't think I'm God's representative on Earth. I don't even think anyone really has been, but I do inspire people. I give the people hope. And that's why I accepted to be one.\" \n\nSome cardinals called the pope towards the balcony. \n\n\"I must go now Luka. May God bless you my child.\"\n\n\"But sir, aren't you way too high to be giving this speech?\"\n\n\"That's my secret captain. I'm always high.\" " ]	1
	[WP] An advent calendar where every square contains a standard dose of a different drug.	[ "Standard dose my ass he thought as he shoved December 16th's Xanax in his mouth and chased in with the 21st's acid. If I'd taken these the way I'd supposed to I wouldn't have felt a damn thing.\n\nThe advent calendar had been made by his factory employees in an effort to get him to slow down that year. By the daily doses simply weren't enough for a man of his size, and so he had saved them all for Christmas eve. \n\nAs he took down a tiny bottle of whiskey he wondered if he'd be able to find some more drugs when he got home that night. His wife would protest if she knew what he'd been up to. \"Think of the children,\" she would say. Greedy little bastards he thought in response to the imaginary argument.\n\nHe opened the last door and it revealed a gram of weed. He rolled it into a joint and lit at as he stood up. He walked outside and saw his crew ready to go. Or at least, he saw blurry little versions of his crew. The advent calendar affected him more than he had expected it to. \n\nWhat will I do? he wondered There's no way I can drive in this condition! \n\nHe had a sudden burst of inspiration. There was another who could navigate as well as he could. He would get him to lead the crew while he dozed in the back. He burst into the shed \"Rudy!\" he cried \"I need you on team lead tonight!\"\n\nRudy scoffed \"No way! You hear how those guys treat me!\"\n\n\"Please Rudy,\" the fat man slurred his words. \"You'll be a hero!\" \n\nRudy sighed and decided it was better than another year of playing monopoly by himself... Although it was his only chance of having access to the board. He could see how intoxicated his boss was and realized he didn't really have a choice. He silently agreed and the two walked out together.\n\nThe crew laughed when they saw Rudy. \"You're bringing Pinnoccio along!?\" Don hollered as he slapped Blitz on the back, who was doubled over with laughter. \n\n\"He's going to guide us through the fog!\" The fat man attempted to defend the deformed deer. The rest of the crew laughed harder as they looked into a clear night sky.\n\nHe set Rudy up in the front of the crew. \"You owe me,\" Rudy said.\n\n\"Just wake me up when we get to the first house,\" he pleaded, his eyes heavy. \"I'll give you half my milk and cookies, I swear.\"", "Is this what I've become?\n\nMy spoon clanged against the side of my bowl. \n\nCottage cheese. Always cottage cheese for the 3:00 snack. Sometimes with peaches, sometimes with pears...\n\nThe Shortage of '17 had hit Mt Pleasant Retirement and Care Home particularly hard. I'd seen it firsthand. We used to get little individual packets of apple slices, sometimes a carton of chocolate milk, and, on special days, a slice of fresh, hot pie. Coconut custard was my favorite, but the lady in 19A raised such a ruckus every time that they kept it to just cherry or apple. Shame.\n\nWhat I wouldn't give for a slice of that pie right now...\n\nA bell rang. It was faint - at least to my aged ears - at the orderly's desk no doubt. \n\nYes, it's time now, isn't it?\n\nMy palsied hands struggled to pull back my sleeve to check my watch. \n\nYes. 3:25. It's time.\n\nAlmost as if on cue I felt hands grip the back of the wheelchair I've been stuck in since the second stroke. I made an effort at dabbing the remnants of the cottage cheese from my lips and try to set the napkin back on the table. It ended up on the floor.\n\n\"Come on dear, it's that time! It's time for day 3 of the Calendar!\"\n\nShe was a kind woman, full of false enthusiasm, but the effort was appreciated. She alone of the orderlies saw that the strokes had sapped my ability to speak but not my mental functioning.\n\nShe was right, of course. The Shortage of '17 hit drugs hard too. Many plants were forced to close, many others moved to India or China - useless to us now after The Health-First Tariff Act.\n\nShe was kind enough to shut the door behind us. Many of them don't.\n\nWhat will it be today? Antiobiotics, I should hope. This bladder infection... it's not pleasant. Oh to be young again, in a world free of these shortages...\n\nShe picked up the long narrow box. The grandchildren - the grandchildren of the man in the next bed over - had come and decorated our boxes. It was December then, they thought it clever to number it like an Advent calendar. It worked out well. I was on a cocktail of 27 different drugs, but the shortage meant we only got one a month of each. On the 1st I got three, on the 2nd I got two, and then one a day for the rest of the month, with a break from the 25th until the 1st of the next month started it over again.\n\nMy hands shook as I popped the drug into my mouth.\n\n\"Well done! Have some water to wash it down, will you?\"\n\nShe hands me a paper cup, half filled with metallic tasting water. The shortage had done a number on our water treatment plants - those that were still open.\n\nI spilled some down the front of my shirt.\n\nMaybe tomorrow. Maybe square number 13. Maybe that will be the drug that calms the shaking." ]	2
	[WP] New Year's Eve. December 31st, 2099.	[ "I missed the aliens. Ahem. I guess we're not supposed to call them that. I missed the Oquathians when they first showed up. I'm still bitter about that, but hardly alone. Most of us missed it. \n\nI barely even remember that night, to be honest. December 31, 2099. I'd been waiting for five years to save up enough money to go to New York to watch the ball drop. My parents had met there--and I'd been conceived that night, apparently--and had stayed together for a while. Long enough for me to get to know them, at least. \n\nSo I'd saved up from the time I was fifteen, so that I could go just after I could legally drink. No point in going sooner, I thought. Several of us went. It's a bit of a trip from Mississippi, and a lot of folks just said we should go on down to the French Quarter in NOLA (before it got obliterated by the Oquathians) since it was closer. It'd save us a bunch of money. They were right, it would save us money. But it was never about saving money. \n\nSo we got there on New Years Eve, checked into the hotel, and began the bar crawl. The Rooftop Crawl, it was called, and we started drinking lightly--pacing ourselves because it was really our first time drinking for any of us. We'd all had a sip or two, but we'd agreed that we would wait for the 'big' celebration on New Years Eve to do any real drinking.\n\nIt started well, and went well. I think. Honestly I don't remember much. Things were rosy, and then hazy, and then I woke up and the world had gone insane.\n\nIn a single night NOLA was gone. So was pretty much every major city south of 30 degrees North. A sixty degree arc around the center of the planet, and the Oquathians had pretty much obliterated everyone in that arc. And I missed it, somehow. To be fair, I'd woken up with an absolutely gorgeous redhead. I don't know how I'd managed to convince her to cozy up with me like that, but when the sirens woke us up, I had blearily rolled over to find her pressed against me in a rather enjoyable way. She had opened her eyes, smiled at me and mumbled something mostly incoherent about how people should have the decency not to have emergencies that time of the day.\n\nWhatever time it was.\n\nShe had inched closer to me and closed her eyes again for a few seconds, then they had snapped open. Green, they were green. And gorgeous. \n\nThen she'd been perfectly coherent. And angry. And nice. She handed me her card, saying 'You were lots of fun, maybe next time you're in town, give me a call', then had headed for the door, when she stopped cold. \n\nIn the next moments reality had come crashing down. The invasion, the destruction, and finally, the capitulation that had all happened while we slept. \n\nSo here we are now. It's 2115, and we're still together. Brianna, as it turned out, was more than just another co-ed. Technically, not a co-ed at all at the time we'd met. She'd been interning as a political staffer at the UN, for President Magabwe's assistant secretary. Not a terribly prestigious position, but Brianna had been fast-tracked for greatness. She's fluent in more languages than I'd known even existed at the time we met. She had grabbed me, forced me to get dressed, and dragged me over to the UN, and we'd gone through a bunch of hoops to get seen.\n\nSo where are we now? Well, first the Oquathians are right bastards. But, because we've signed about a dozen treaties, we aren't allowed to say that. Not really. They count themselves the true owners of the planet. We just happened to be unusually intelligent parasites that enjoy the uninhabitable parts of their world. At least that's how I get.\n\n\"Brianna, are you ready?\"\n\n\"Sure thing, Illidan. You sure about this?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nShe sidled up to me. \"Hey honey, we could just leave them alone, you know It's not too late.\"\n\nI gave her a look. She knew better. I did too. She wanted these bastards gone at least as much as I did. \n\nShe pouted, still gorgeous when she did. \"Okay, fine. But I just want it on record that we at least discussed the likely problems.\"\n\n\"Consider it discussed. But with their new announcement? We can't wait.\"\n\n\"No kidding. It's already too hot.\"\n\nThe bastards were planning on doing something pretty much every human knew meant death for us, but the treaty had still held. Because most people didn't think we had a choice. They were right, in a way, but the only real option was to fight now, before the aliens moved the planet closer to the sun, raising the temperature even further. That done and we see a five to ten degree shift in average global temperatures. The only place we'd be able to survive would be the soon to be flooded poles. \n\nSo I planted the bombs, and I waited for the signal. Brianna and I flipped our switches, and waited. She moved close, grabbed me tight, and we kissed. After that, as our bodies immolated from the hydrogen bombs we'd planted to destroy their infrastructure, it didn't really matter what happened.\n", "Five,\nFour,\nThree,\nTwo,\nOne,\n\n\"Happy New Years!!\" The roar from the crowd cheered. \n\nBut there was one man who didn't join them. His name was Raymond, and he knew what was coming. \n\n\"If only they knew, if only I could save them all\". He thought to himself. But there wasn't anything he could do. An meteor the size once thought as impossible was heading for earth. \n\nThe government knew. They had known for weeks, they had gone into theirs vaults. Hoping they would be enough to protect them. The leaders of the world met previously and agreed that they couldn't do anything to save the masses; and telling them would only cause mass hysteria. \n\nRaymond pours the last of his whisky down his throat and raises from the bar stool. \n\n\"You're leaving already Ray? But the party's only just got started\". The voice of Raymond's friend Max shouts across the room of drunks. \n\n\"I'm just not feeling up to it\". Raymond replied, there was a sadness in his voice. The whisky didn't help him forget as he would of hoped it did.\n\nRay leaves the bar and stares at the nights sky. He had always been drawn to the stars. He spent countless hours whiles growing up, looking through the telescope. The very one he asked for every year on his birthday until when he was 9 he finally got it. \n\nHis thoughts are cut short. He see it coming. He knew the end was nearing. \n\nHe walks over to the coffee shop across the street. Ray sits down on the chair outside. The night was warm, he takes his jacket off and puts it on the table in front. He reaches in and grabs his favourite bottle of whiskey out of the pocket. The one he had been saving for a special occasion. \n\n\"Now to watch the world end\". \n\n(Took me like ten minutes to write. I just started writing and it ended up at this point) ", "\"It's only a few minutes before New Year's Eve, here in New York,\" said the reporter. \"In anticipation, the crowd has become eerily silent, when just an hour ago it was a cacophony of noises overlapping one another.\"\n\nThe camera panned to the crowd below them, who were all staring at the New Year's Ball, almost as it they were in a trance. The entire Times Square, normally a very loud and vibrant area, fell into a deafening silence.\n\n\"As you can see, Dave, everyone is eagerly anticipating the coming of the new century. No doubt we'll need to cover our ears once the ball is dropped, but until then, we'll keep monitoring the situation here in New York,\" said the reporter.\n\n\"Thank you Maria,\" said Dave, turning off the screen. The camera was now facing him. \"And now we turn our attention to London, where reporter James notes a similar phenomenon is happening there, near the Big Ben. James, are you in?\"\n\nAnother screen comes to life as another reporter is seen checking his headphone. before acknowledging Dave's question.\n\n\"Yes, Dave, as you can see from our camera nearly the entire city of London has fallen silent,\" said James. \"It started a few minutes ago but honestly I'm getting kind of freaked out.\"\n\nThe camera now turns to crowd, all facing the direction of Big Ben, and all looking like they are about to jump. There was excitement in their faces, like a young child eagerly waiting for his Christmas presents.\n\n\"What about the guards, are they silently staring at Big Ben too?\"\n\n\"Well, no, thankfully. And actually just earlier the police caught a would-be terrorist as he was making his way to the center of the crowd. Luckily they managed to get to him in time before anything happened,\" replied James.\n\nThe screen turned black again, and Dave faced the camera once more. \"And finally we'll be getting a look at Hong Kong, where reporter Mei had already experienced the coming of the New Year. Mei, are you there?\"\n\nIt took a second for the signal to arrive, but Mei's face finally showed on screen, covered in stir fried noodles with a crab hanging off her hair.\n\n\"Oh my gosh, Mei, what happened to you?\"\n\nMei smiled, and tried to remove the crab from her head, to no avail. \"Well, Dave, apparently the city officials decided to hold a food fight to celebrate the New Year. No one was safe, and it was only a miracle that our equipment wasn't damaged.\"\n\nShe ducked as a roast duck came flying at her from off the screen, and hitting a poor bystander. Her producer suddenly came flying into the camera's view, heroically saving her from a large cake by batting it away with a piece of French bread.\n\n\"Were they also very quiet before the New Year?\" asked Dave.\n\n\"Yes, actually. I've heard that this has happened all over the world, but we're still not sure as to why--\"\n\nShe was interrupted when a man wielding a chicken leg came at her, but she karate-chopped him with a chopping board.\n\n\"We'll get back to you later, Mei,\" said Dave. \"Now. It's only a one minute till New Year's Eve here in Paris, so we'll check with our local news reporter Pierre as we await the countdown to the 22nd century.\"\n\nThe screen opened to reveal a man in a beret. \"Pierre! Good to see you, how are things outside?\"\n\n\"I just have one thing to say, Dave.\" said Pierre in a very heavy French accent.\n\n\"What that?\"\n\nPierre looked behind him, towards a very silent crowd, and began counting.\n\n\"10.\"\n\n\"9.\"\n\n\"8.\"\n\n\"7.\"\n\n\"6.\"\n\n\"5.\"\n\n\"4.\"\n\n\"3.\"\n\n\"2.\"\n\n\"1.\"\n\n\"HAPPY NEW YEAR!\"\n\nAll at once the crowd exploded into cries, hugs, and kisses. Fireworks suddenly illuminated the night sky, and the Eiffel Tower was bathed in a beautiful display of lights and sounds.\n\n\"As we celebrate the coming of the new century Dave, everyone here is wishing each other health, fortune, and prosperity for their friends and family for the next hundred years.\"\n\n\"Yes, Happy New Year to you as well Pierre.\"\n\n\"Thank you. And one more thing,\" said Pierre.\n\n\"What is it?'\n\n\"I lo--\"\n\nThe screen suddenly faded.\n\n\"We'll go now to James in London to see what he's doing,\" said Dave.\n\n---\n\nWritten in thirty minutes\n\n\n\n", "Lyla is six. It's the first time her parents have ever let her stay up past 9 o'clock and she's sitting buzzed on soda pop and watching news reports that she doesn't really understand. She's asking her parents to change the channel so that she can watch a TV show that she likes, but her dad shoos her away and tells her to color or something, and Lyla wanders over to the big windows that look over the city and stares out at all the lights. She feels kind of itchy from being awake and reaches up to scratch her face, closing her eyes and scratching over and then scratching along her arms. Her mom comes up and offers her another soda pop and she takes it and starts to drink it, and the bubbles feel weird in her mouth and she's not even sure why she's awake. \n\nHer parents are talking in low voices while they watch the news but Lyla doesn't try to listen to them because she's too busy staring at the lights. Her mom comes over and tells her there's half an hour left before midnight, and then it will be a new century! Lyla says, \"What's a century?\" and her mom says, \"It's a hundred years.\" Lyla's not sure she really understands but she says, \"Oh, I know that,\" and goes back to staring out the window. \n\nShe gets bored at one point and wanders over to the couch to look for their kitten. Lyla's mom is trying to get her to come over, waving a party hat and asking Lyla, \"Don't you want to wear it?\" Lyla doesn't really want to wear the hat, she's too busy looking for Luke the cat and she's still feeling kind of itchy, but her mother calls her over and she goes. Lyla's mother puts the hat on her head and hands her a horn to blow into, and she says that it's time to count down from ten and then it will be a new year. Lyla counts with her parents, and then at one blows into the horn while her parents both shout, \"Happy New Year!\" \n\nThe lights in her house go out. Her parents are speaking more quickly now but Lyla wanders back over to the window and watches all the lights go dark in the city. There are a few fireworks that explode in the sky - they backlight the tall buildings that are black now. Lyla's parents are reaching for her in the darkness and tugging on her, but Lyla doesn't want to go. She wants to stay. \n\nThere's a siren sounding somewhere far off. Lyla's mother is picking her up and carrying her away now. \n\nLyla wonders if it's time to go to sleep.\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading :). For more stories check out /r/Celsius232 ", "My wife and I nervously watched the holo-broadcast that would traditionally ring in the new year. Unfortunately the millennium bug had put a slight downer on this years festivities. The presenter in front of us was trying to put on a brave face.\n\n\"Here in London we are doing our best to ignore— oh Christ, oh shit, I'm vanishing, I think I have been gott—\" \n\nAs the presenter spoke, her body gradually faded out of existence. Light easily passed through her transparent body, until poof, she was gone. The millennium bug had gotten her.\n\nDuring the cyborg revolution on 2066, computerised implants has become common place. Brain chips helped us think. Nano steel arms and legs gave us strength and speed previously unimaginable. New appendages created a more exciting sexual dynamic. \n\nBy 2088 all babies were chipped as soon as they were born. By the start of this year, 2099, everyone had some form of cybernetic enhancement. \n\nSo three months ago, when the millennium bug started, it was able to spread like wild fire. It began with a hacker in Taiwan who uploaded the virus to a user Tennessee who was upgrading his cerebral software. As soon as the virus upload was complete it began to transform him. His organic substance was converted to 0's and 1's. He quickly vanished into the ether, forever to be trapped as a ghost in the machine. This was captured on a PS3Box webcam and transmitted to a terrified populace.\n\nThe virus greedily spread, helped by the prominence of mobile network satellites and free wi-fi zone hotspots. No one was safe. \n\nThe holographic was still broadcasting in front of us. The crowd in London was literally dispersing as we watched. Big Ben began to ring — dong, dong — and then another ten times. \n\n\"We made it!\" I said, turning to my wife. Something wasn't right. She looked less opaque than usual. \"Oh God sweetheart, no!\" \n\nI leaned in to kiss her goodbye, but my lips went straight through her and onto the cold wall. I began to cry. \n\nI tried to brush my tears away from my eyes with the back of my hand, but when I raised my arm up I saw but a faint outline of my forelimb.\n\n " ]	5
	[WP] #64 on the Evil Overlord list is: "I will see a competent psychiatrist and get cured of all extremely unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits which could prove to be a disadvantage." You are the psychiatrist.	[ "First attempt at WP:\n\nPatient: sighs Well… You see… Doctor… I’ve been putting this further and further onto my growing list… Ever since I’ve remembered I… silence\n\nTherapist: hmm…\n\nPatient: Well… I… I can’t exactly ex-explain it. But it feels like every turn along the way, every experience I feel, seems to validate the choices that set me upon this path. It has turned into more of a statement to the world… A mission if you will.\n\nTherapist: A mission.\n\nPatient: Yes… Well you see I’ve seen a colleague of yours before, a more arcane fellow. He stood by the biomedical approach, or so I’ve read, and even though he recommended me a set of behavioural guidelines to deal with the issue, and some pills to calm me down, it has actually gotten worst. I started cheating some of the exercises, for example. Instead of forcing myself to stare into the sky, I’d buy rose tinted glasses and I’d perform the exercise… and then I would just take double of the recommended dosage…\n\nTherapist: That didn’t made you less afraid of the colour blue. You couldn’t perform the exercise as he recommended to you.\n\nPatient: Hmm hmm, yes… I can’t. You see… That’s my mission. My number one on the list is to paint everything red. That would defeat the purpose of going to therapy, removing number one and two from my list is impossible. I’m here so you can help me achieve my goals. People tell me you can help with life goals.\n\nTherapist: Hmm. I’m here to help your goals, like painting everything that’s blue, red.\n\nPatient: Yes… I can’t stand it…\n\nTherapist: So much so that you have to paint it red over.\n\nPatient: Yes. Something… something recoils inside me every time I see blue… I once used my own blood to cover the blue… I was possessed. I couldn’t control myself; it was like watching someone acting in my own skin… Imagine that… a control freak like me… The first time was so hard I couldn’t even…I couldn’t even eyes start to water\n\nTherapist:…\n\nPatient: Reaches for the tissue paper… cleans his nose… I couldn’t even react. I was so dejected from myself, like I was watching this man… this incredibly horrible man… man?… Could you call that a man?...eating… Silence…\n\nTherapist:…\n\nPatient: That’s… In that moment, I promised myself two things… The two things on the top of my list, Number One: I’d never be forced to see the colour blue again, and two: that I’d never feel that fear again. And those things… they fueled me…they shaped me... Uhm… funny...patient smiles\n\nTherapist: You’re smiling… Would you like to share?\n\nPatient: Uhm… yes... continues smiling... I just realized, partly the reason I’ve been putting this further and further away was because of that. I sit here, the most powerful man that ever sat across from you, made streets red with blood for the simple reason of being afraid of blue. Fear so strong it made me strong, and forged me into the man I am today. Instead of being afraid, I make others afraid, like you are… or should be. Fear like that resonates within me, gives me purpose, made me so successful… at painting red… maniacal laughter... and how I painted red… patient seems to enjoy this. People compare me to Hitler, even going so far as using the red motto as a metaphor for my agenda, but little do they know that it’s not about the colour red… It’s about not being blue. \n\nTherapist: But the world’s sky is still blue.\n\nPatient: Give me time… I’ll paint red as well… I should thank you in a way. \n\nTherapist: How come?\n\nPatient: Well, you made me realize I don’t need fixing.\n\nTherapist: You don’t need fixing.\n\nPatient: No. You see, I’d be nothing without fear. I’d just be a boy, a little scared… paralyzed boy… couldn’t even do anything about the monster eating the kids’ own kin. But now… now, I’m a leader of men, painter of red, instiller of fear. My fear… protects me.\n\nTherapist: Hmm…\n\nPatient: Yes… patient stands up Anyway doctor. I’m done. This was great. How much do I owe you?\n\nTherapist: Well, considering I didn’t do anything, let’s call it even… But before you leave, can I share something with you?\n\nPatient:… You’d… share?\n\nTherapist: Yes… See… we’re a bit alike. I couldn’t help but empathize, hence my will to share. I also like the colour red, and it seems like you could help me.\n\nPatient: H-how could I help you?\n\nTherapist: Forgive me smiling, but I wasn’t expecting.\n\nPatient: Your teeth… It’s like him…why are they bl- wh-y so many?Patient screams incomprehensibly\n\nPatient notes: \n\nIt’s been a while since I had such an exhilarating patient. Unfortunately, like Yaloms book “Creature of a day”, the case can’t possibly be continued, for fear of uncovering unpleasant truths, my truths. The patient lived his life to this point with a mission; it’s only fitting the case would end like this.\n\nOn a personal analysis, I feel like this was a clear indication that I should move on, I’ve had my share of analysis to last multiple life times and multiple existences to sample on, and as such, this was my last patient… I shall take on a new life, and find new meanings, after all, I welcome all new types of experiences, even as a dictator.\n\n", "\"Well...?\" I prompted the Dread Being on the couch. He coughed nervously. \n\"Well, you see, I have a nervous habit of... maniacal cackling\" I smiled faintly; another one, eh? \n\"Really? Sometimes it's just a hearty laugh. Could you give me an example?\" \n\"Oh, alright. MwahahahaAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!... Well?\" I readjusted my glasses and smoothed my hair; this one was much more forceful than the others. No matter. \n\"Believe me, this is a common problem. The trick is to limit it to a certain time of day. Put aside ten minutes and really laugh it out.\" \n\"And that'll work?\" The Lord of Darkness asked doubtfully. \n\"Oh yes; I haven't heard a complaint from any other client.\" \n\"Well thank you doctor. I feel much better.\" Standing up, he drew his sword and ran me through the heart. As I slumped backwards, he apologised:\n\"I am sorry Doctor; but you knew too many of my weaknesses. Goodbye.\" \n \nWhen the door clicked shut, I sat up and dusted myself down. Changing from my bloodstained rag into one of the spare shirts in my desk drawer, I sighed, and was glad that I always insisted on upfront payment. Pressing the intercom, I rang my assistant to send in the next one. \n\"Ah, Sir Whiteblade. What can I help you with today?\" \n\"Well you see, Doctor, every time I hear the Dread Lord laugh, I get self conscious and left him escape.\" I smiled; as an Immortal, I've always noted that Karma really does come around quick.", "“The death ray will then be leveled at the planet,” said Baron Darkfist, leaning forward. “Gathering energy from sunlight, it will send a scorching line of fire through America and teach the world the true meaning of fear.”\n\nEd Goldstein tapped his pen against his notepad, a small frown pursing his lips. Mr. Darkfist had been a client for a number of years, now. His dedication to evil was admittedly admirable. Every other monster, king, and tyrant who had sat upon Ed’s couch had failed to get this far in their treatment while still retaining their sense of glee for wanton destruction. Most had a good cry, hugged Ed for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then went home. Lord Slaughterfingers had actually sent Ed a Christmas card just two months ago. His new wife looked lovely.\n\n“Mr. Darkfist,” said Ed, patiently.\n\n“Baron,” snapped the man. “You will address my by my title, cur.”\n\nEd inwardly sighed. The “Baron” was no such thing. He was a Minnesota farm boy who had read too many fantasy books.\n\n“Baron Darkfist, then,” said Ed. “You are at serious risk of undoing our work. You remember what we said about monologuing.”\n\t\nThe Baron’s eyes fell.\n\n“That’s when the hero shoots you,” he muttered.\n\n“Yes, but why else?”\n\nHe drew in a deep breath, then rattled off a string of well-rehearsed words. \n\n“I am a strong villain,” he said, “needing no validation from any hero as to the unspeakable evil that I am to commit. Any actions I unleash upon the world are for my own sake, and nobody else’s, and I don’t need anybody to understand or validate my plans.”\n\nEd beamed. “Very good, M… er, Baron Darkfist.”\n\nHe flipped to the next page on his notepad, and smiled.\n\n“Just one last item then, before I can discharge you as a villain, in full command of his senses and ready to rule the world.”\n\nBaron Darkfist leaned forward eagerly, his eyes gleaming.\n\n“Number sixty-four,” said Ed. “Unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits.”\n\nBaron Darkfist leaned back. He was a tall man, with a shock of black hair and hands like cleavers. His eyes were so dark a blue that they looked like shards of onyx. He looked outside at where cars buzzed by on the street below.\n\n“That’s an easy one,” he said, dismissively. “I have no such phobias.”\n\nEd restrained the roll of his eyes, and leaned forward. He gestured to where a picture which had once hung upon his wall lay against the wall, image concealed.\n\n“Baron, let’s talk about… horses.”\n\nThe man went stiff as a lead pipe. His eyes darted about the room. Sweat began to bead upon his brow. He wiped it away, affecting a laugh. “Don’t be crazy, doc,” he said. “I ain’t got nothing against—“\n\n“You accent is slipping,” Ed noted.\n\nThe Baron scowled, then coughed. “I am the Baron Darkfist,” he proclaimed in a strong voice. “I am not afraid of horses.”\n\nEd rose, smiling, walking over to where the painting lay.\n\n“Oh, good,” he said. “Then you won’t mind if I…?”\n\nThe Baron paled, a hand darting up. “Wait!” he cried. “No! That… I just…” He smiled. “I am a man of class. I find that picture… rural, and distasteful.”\n\nEd flipped the frame around to reveal a landscape portrait of a great sweep of grass, awash with a herd of horses leaping through the green. His client, the Baron Darkfist, shrieked, scrambling to the opposite side of the couch from the picture and clutching a pillow to his chest.\n\n“What is it about horses that scares you?” asked Ed, looking down at the picture. “I find them quite lovely.”\n\n“I’m not—“\n\n“You will not make progress until you are willing to admit your fears,” Ed snapped. The Baron looked down at this pillow in his hands, where the words ‘Everything will be okay’ had been embroidered in pink silk.\n\n“It was my father,” he muttered. “He was a breeder. He always wanted me to be a jockey, to ride his finest beasts, but they scared me! They would kick me, throw me to the ground. I broke limbs, but he didn’t care. As soon as I was well, he’d have me back on the saddle.”\n\nEd nodded, gesturing, and the Baron continued.\n\n“I guess I just… well, I wanted to prove to him that I could be something. Become something. But he only ever wanted the horses. He loved them more than me. One day, I went out to the barn. I had this old zippo lighter, see, and I…” The Baron gulped. “The screams. I didn’t know horses could scream, doc. My father, he came out of the house with his gun. I don’t think he knew it was me. I hope he didn’t. He aimed, and he fired. Tore a hole right in my shoulder. Doctors said I was lucky to be alive.”\n\nEd nodded again, then drew in a deep breath.\n\n“So you blame the horses for your father,” he said.\n\n“If they hadn’t existed…!” the Baron cried, leaning forward, his features desperate. “If they hadn’t been there, then maybe…!”\n\nEd sighed, this time letting the noise fill the room like the gentle swell of a wave breaking upon sand. Baron Darkfist leaned back, still clutching the pillow.\n\n“You don’t think it would have been something else?” Ed asked. “If not horses, perhaps another thing?”\n\nThe Baron’s eyes were filling with tears.\n\n“I just wanted him to love me,” he whispered. “To notice me. To care.”\n\nEd stood up, walking over to sit beside the Baron on the couch.\n\n“I know,” he said. “But we all need to learn how to let go.”\n\nThe Baron let out a monumental sob, and leaned over, clutching at Ed’s sleeve. The psychiatrist tapped his pen once against his notepad, then patted the man’s shaking head awkwardly. Looked like this one wasn’t cut out for the job either.\n" ]	3
	[WP] "You can have a sit down dinner with anyone you want, past or present!" "My Dad."	[ "\"Listen Jimmy. You can meet anyone you want. 2Pac, Bob Marley, Malcolm X or even Barack Obama himself if you so choose. Choose wisely now y'here\"\n\nI stood before the King and professed my deepest desire\n\n\"I wish to have dinner with my great grandfather. Whom my family doesn't speak of not in hate or contempt nor in love and reverence. They speak of him not\" \n\n\"As you wish\"\n\nThe King banged his cane against the floor and suddenly I was sitting at the dinner table of a strange man, I ask him\n\n\"Where am I?\"\n\n\"Why my man, you're in Germany\"\n\n\"Whats today's date?\"\n\n\"May 15, 1942\"\n\nI started to look around and I noticed beautiful paintings.. historical paintings. The Mona Lisa.. the original, i'm told, is hanging right above what I believe to be my great grandfather's fireplace.\n\nThe house i'm in felt like the warm and cozy home I never knew. I sat back in my chair just taking it all in. I looked at my great grandfather (I assume) with a sense of curiosity.. he looked familiar but I can't say where I've seen him.. it's impossible that I've seen pictures of the guy.. my family wouldn't disclose any amount of information about him so this man could be.. this man could be just about anyone..\n\nI ask him if he knows who I am, he shakes his head in agreement. With an awkward pause (or silence) he goes\n\n\"EVA! Get this man some food\"\n\nAfter the dead silence which cut through the air like a thieves' dagger ceased to be.. the man screams at the top of his lungs for \"Eva\" to get me some food, I try to assure him i'm fine and that I didn't want anything to eat but he insists..\n\nA petite blonde woman about 5'4-5'5 in stature comes rushing in and apologizes profusely saying she didn't hear because the bombings that go on at night caused her to lose hearing in her right ear.\n\n\"The left one!\"\n\n\"I mean the left one, right\"\n\nWhat an odd thing to say.. but I do remember momma telling me my great grandmother had a \"few screws loose in her head\". Anyways I eat what's on my plate: Deer meat, mashed potatoes, green beans, brown gravy poured on top and a slice of chocolate cake.. I washed my meal down with a large cup of milk.. after I finished up, I asked the man whom I believe to be my great grandfather\n\n\"So tell me, why doesn't my family give me your name?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe you should ask them\"\n\n\"I do but they keep dodging the important questions.. tell me.. who exactly are you? From what I can tell you must be a wealthy man because of this view in an exotic country like Germany (my family never had enough money to go anywhere. This was considered a 'rich person' activity).. what do you do for a living?\"\n\n\"I own a shoe factory\"\n\n\"That's all you do?\" I ask\n\n\"And many countries\"\n\nSooo.. my great grandfather is an entrepreneur and owns \"many countries\".. or could be a leader of \"many countries\"\n\n1942\n\nGermany\n\nEva\n\n1942\n\nEva\n\nGermany \n\nEva\n\nGermany\n\nShoe Factory\n\n1942, Eva, shoe factory, Germany, wealthy.\n\nHe saw as I slowly started to connect the dots, he started to laugh and asked if I wanted to go lay down in the guest room as he thought I must be feeling ill.. little did I know I was thinking out loud the whole time.\n\nI say\n\n\"I think I have to go Mr.\"\n\nHe offers his sincerest apologizes and says he'll \"Put Eva back in her place\" for not \"fetching\" me food promptly.. I feel as if I have to throw up, I run to the window and begin vomiting \n\nBright spotlights lit up the property..\n\nI looked over and saw a bucket of teeth with stripped pajamas laying around it.\n\nWhen I started to scream, I suddenly found myself back at the Courts.. I stood up, looked around and noticed it was empty.. the next thing I remember i'm waking up in a hospital bed surrounded by flowers and balloons that say \"Get Well Damion\". I asked the nurse what happened and she said I had been poisoned by an unknown substance.\n\nMy dad came in shortly after hearing the news.. or so I thought.. I assumed things.. but it wasn't Dad. The man I had dinner with walked in wearing a brown 'official' looking uniform, which had a black cross pinned onto it, tall black boots and was sporting a funny mustache. He came in, sat next to me\n\nand just grinned.", "\"Hi, Dad.\"\n\nHe was exactly as I remembered. His steel-toed boots thudded heavily against the slate-grey nothing on which he walked, and his tall frame nearly brushed the mist ceiling above. My back straightened as his blue eyes squinted at me, and I pressed my spine into the dining room chair. It dug in uncomfortably, and my bouncing knees kept hitting the bottom of our old table, but in the center of death's nothing, even pain was comforting. \n\nHe stomped the last few steps, then stared at me from the other end of the table. \"Ana-Ray, go home this instant.\"\n\nA lump lodged in my throat--not from the dismissal, but from the familiar line creasing his forehead, the deep tone that brokered no argument, and the nick-name no one used but him.\n\n\"Can't.\" I said, blinking rapidly. At his continued glare, I smiled weakly and gestured to the chair across from me. \"C-can we just... can we just talk for a bit?\"\n\nHe humphed, shaking his head even as he took a seat. The mist ceiling swirled darker above his head. \"We can start by you explaining yourself, young lady.\"\n\nA laugh squeaked out around the lump in my throat. It echoed, strange in the limitless room. It was as if hands passed the sound of joy backwards and forwards in surprise. \"That's a long story, Dad,\" I finally managed. \"I don't know how much time we have--this probably isn't even real--but since you're, you know, here, I need your help.\"\n\n\"What is it? Are you trapped? Hurt?\" Concern edged his voice. \n\n\"Well, kinda, but not the way you think.\" I tugged at my braid, dropping my gaze to his hands. \"I'm not dead, just, well, close. Close enough to talk to you, I think.\"\n\nHis fingers twitched, as if he would reach for my fidgeting hands, but he pulled himself back. The mist blackened further. His second demand for an explanation was only that familiar furrowed brow, but was loud regardless. \n\n\"I'm--well, I was looking for you, Dad.\" I was saying Dad too much, but it felt so good it kept slipping out. \"Asking questions.\"\n\n\"How many times have I told you not to do that?\"\n\n\"A billion, at least.\" I scooted my chair forward, undeterred, and flicked my eyes back up to his. \"I had to know. I knew you wouldn't disappear for no reason, no matter what Mom said.\"\n\nThe hard blue of his eyes softened, and his fingers twitched towards mine again, \"never, Ana-Ray. But that doesn't mean you go questioning your mother, you hear me?\"\n\n\"I do. I hear you.\" The lump was back, and the words came out mangled, almost a sob.\n\nBushy eyebrows shot up, and his chair legs scraped with a dry rasp against the nothing as if he prepared to jump away. \"Don't cry, please don't cry. I can't hold you here.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\nHe settled down as I forced my tears back. \"Because, if you aren't dead, then we aren't in the same plane. We're more... between. And I don't want you coming to my side.\"\n\nI nodded, ignoring the burning in my chest. \"But you can tell me, can't you? Tell me what--what brought you there?\"\n\n\"Who killed me, you mean?\" Dad asked bluntly. I flinched, then nodded. There was no denying where I'd found him. \"I can tell you.\" My hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly my fingernails turned white. He eyed me. \"I won't though.\"\n\nThe mist was lowering around us. \"What? You have to! It's why I'm here!\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" he replied. He stood, chair scraping back again. \"I don't want you coming here anytime soon. Return, now, and I'll see you in a lifetime.\"\n\n\"I can't, Dad,\" the raw desperation in my voice made him swallow hard, but he turned to look at the blackening space. Threads of shadows twined around up the legs of the table, the wood fading around their touch.\n\n\"You're going back, young lady, and there's nothing you can do about it.\" His hand reached for my face, then dropped. \"Whatever it is you did to get here, don't do it again. Let it go.\"\n\nI couldn't feel my fingertips I clung so hard to the table. \"I can't.\"\n\n\"You listen to me now, Ana-Rae. Let go. I'll be here at the end.\" A smile cracked the darkness lowering over his face. \"And I'd like some grandbabies before you come.\" \n\n\"Dad,\" I shouted, but shadows flowed over my hands, engulfing me. \"Don't leave me again,\" my voice was muffled, sobbing. The only answer was a faint sentence, nearly too distant to make out. \n\n\"Love you, Ana-Rae.\"\n\nEmptiness surrounded me, swallowing the sobs I made. My heart screamed at the pain of being torn apart again.\n\n\"... Hanah? Hanah, speak to... Hanah!...\" Strange voices echoed in the nothing, and the darkness began to dissipate. I clawed for the shadows--he hadn't told me anything, and he'd left me alone again! I wouldn't let go.\n\nI didn't have a choice. My eyes opened to an alleyway, dark and damp, and green eyes pinched with worry hovered over me. \n\n\"...Hanah?\" The man--Blake--said.\n\n\"He's dead.\" My voice rasped, like wind over bone. \"He's dead.\"\n\nBlake ran his fingers through my hair, searching for the bump that had sent me there. \"Ok, well, sure. But you're not. Let's keep it that way, alright?\"\n\nMy eyes narrowed, and I pushed myself up from the cement. \"I'm not giving up.\"\n\nA loud sigh was his response, followed by \"I figured that would be too much to hope for. How about I make sure you don't keel over in the next second or two, while you explain who did this to you.\"\n\n\"I don't know. They hit me from behind. I'd guess it was whoever killed my Dad.\" I muttered, letting Blake push me back onto the cement. \"But they didn't finish it with me.\" Blake made soothing noises, as I stared past his head at the black clouds that roofed the alley. \n\n\"I'll finish it with them.\" I promised, and my fists clenched tight. " ]	2
As you live the life of an "ordinary" tree, you endure the struggles and triumphs the park life brings.	[WP] You are a tree in a central park, and unknowingly to the people, you can feel and think.	[ "Oh for God's sake, not again. The fucker just pissed all over me. Right smug little grin on his face as well. Fucking New Years eve I tell you; the worst night of my year, and this asshat is the 7th one already. Wanna piss? Go do it on Gavin over there, he ain't half as pretty as me. Guess that's the price you pay for such a prime location. \n\nI tell you, the shit you see in central park would shock even the bravest oak up at Winona State. But I bet they get some peace and quiet, though. ‘The city that never sleeps’ yeah, tell me about it. I'd probably get more peace in a bloody Lumber Yard. It used to be great before all these sodding people decided to start chopping down my mates and building these ugly shiny glass people-holding things. \n\nOh, hold up, here comes another drinker. I'd bet my best branch that he comes to piss on me, they always do. Come on asshole, you know you want to, ruin my night just a little bit more. Okay, there we go. I hope you find yourself reborn in some weedy little cedar tree. Jesus this guy is drunk. I could get up and wander around and he wouldn't even notice, but I can't. You know; because I'm a tree. \n\nOh no, he's got a knife. Here we go again. Captain asshole down there wants to forever be a part of Central Park itself. What a cock. Ow. Ow. Ow. Jesus this fucker has shaky hands. At least make an attempt to be neat! Come on, hurry up then. ‘T’ hm, Tom? Tim? Tard more likely. ‘R’ ‘E’ ‘E’. Wait. He just wrote tree. This asshole couldn't even manage his own initials, so he had to deface me with “TREE” in some scrawly script. Just another day in paradise. \n", "I remember a time before,\nwhen few seldom roamed the land.\nThe forest stretched beyond my sight,\nbefore the time of man.\n\nThe stars shown bright upon the sky,\nfreedom without a thought. \nAnd all that lived, harmonious,\na timeless place that nature wrought. \n\nThey came to us, at first so slow, \nlike my sap within the ice.\nMy friends and family turned to ash,\nour sacrifice would not suffice.\n\nI learned to hate, with hate so strong, \nfor those to took my kin from me.\nBut what did man have to fear, \nfor I was not but a mindless tree.\n\nSpires of grey grew with unnatural speed, \nwhen my bark and flesh did not suffice.\nsurrounding those that remained, \na prison between those who took our life. \n\nI grow with shades of vibrant green, \na beauty for those who come and see.\nWhat's hidden is that I'm dead inside,\na life of joy can never be.\n\nI let them walk among my shade,\nBah! Like they care for more than wealth in hand.\nI will never forget how life used to be, \nbefore the day I encountered man.\n\n\n", "I felt the girl's deep, slow sigh across my cracked skin. \n \n\"I just wish things could be easier. Simpler.\" Tell me about it, I thought, then cringed as she did just that. \n \n\"Oh, Pine Tree,\" she crooned, stroking me gently. Stop that. \"I hate running the rat race of life. I'm so tired of just working, day after day. And I STILL don't have enough money to move out of my parents' house. When will things get better?\" \n \nNo way! I was asked that EXACT same question at 2AM by a homeless man. I was happy to see that her hand rested in the patch of grass where he'd puked. \n \n\"I'm not crazy--\" just talking to a pine tree, \"but sometimes I feel like the whole world's watching me with high hopes and expectations. People trust me, and I let them down.\" I actually sympathized with her on that one. I remembered the fat child who had tried to climb me last week and the way he'd screamed as my branch snapped. Could I have been stronger for him? \n \n\"You know what? I'm gonna start living for myself. I'll be like you, Pine Tree -- I can grow on my own, with or without other people.\n \n\"I just wish I had some kind of sign that the universe could hear me...\" \n \nSo I dropped a pinecone on her fucking head.", "I have been here for dozens of New Greens. Every year I grow a little bigger, a little more majestic, and I can see the earth from a little bit higher. I grow very proud of the life I harbor within my branches and on my bark. So many creatures come and go, some even stay and make young, and then disappear until the next New Green. \n\nThere is another kind of tree, it has roots that can move it from place to place and branches that can pick up and carry stuff. And these trees look so different! Odd stringy leaves seem to only exist near the top of their trunks. Where do they get their energy from? Some even enjoy sitting under me where they choose to not receive anything from the WarmBall. Such odd trees, but I have grown to love them.\n\nThe last few New Greens have been bothersome though. I have learned to tell these odd trees apart. Some are young, some are old, some are happy, some are hurt, and some are sad. There is one I have seen, a tree with no leaves, hurting other trees of its kind. It used a flat stone, must have found it between his roots when it just a sapling, and brought out the sap of another tree that had dirty looking leaves. and then took a hanging nest and moved so very quickly away. The poor dirty leaves tree toppled and laid there until other trees came to help. They were all very sad and returned their water to the earth.\n\nI've seen this no leaves tree hurt more since then and I decided that just cannot be allowed. No tree should hurt others! I spent a ColdBall preparing one of my largest branches, cutting it off from the sap from within. Before I was growing new leaves for the creatures to come the branch was ready and leafless, never to grow again. I kept vigilance for that tree to come near me again.\n\nA New Green was here, WarmBall right above me, and I saw the no leaves tree coming.\n\nAs its roots passed it under my shade I let the last of the life out of the branch I was preparing. I had never done anything so quickly before but my efforts paid off. The no leaves tree sat under my branch, broken, and returning its own sap to the earth. It would never hurt another tree again.", "Autumn always brought trouble for us trees in the park. Bright green leaves dancing in the summer wind turned into a fragile red and yellow shade. Our branches lightened but the heavy rain and gnashing wind now lay burden directly on the bark of the oaks and birches. The company of singing birds in their beautifully crafted nests had vanished as the weather grew more hostile for each week that passed. \n\nThe geese still gathered in the overgrown pond waiting for the old lady to bring her leftover bread for them to feast on. She had fed many geese from her park bench below the old oak tree. He had, as the years went by, made sure to grow a branch that would cover her bench in soothing shade in that time of the day. It didn't help much now that most of his leafs lay on the ground to rot. \n\nAs the birds had pecked away enthusiastically and eaten most of the breadcrumbs they began to gather up in the pond. A cold breeze made ripples on the pond and the flock of geese took off in a strange display of organised chaos and loud guttural sounds. \n\n\"Thank you for another year,\" the old lady said and turned her head to the oak. \"I have always known.\" She smiled the most loving smile as she slowly rose to a stand. With a gesture of respect she turned away and left the oak in his own company once again. \n\n___\n" ]	5
	[WP] You are a famous magician. One day, you find out magic is real.	[ "He opened his eyes. \"My old diary, of all things,\" whispered a rather odd man, his once fancy clothes now rugged, his dark hair in shambles; stray group held up with the same wax used to keep them in order. \"Most peculiar of a catalyst, but it'll do.\" \n\nHe opened it, right at the interesting part.\n\n28/09/1970 - Tonight's show went splendidly, as expected. each one of my tricks was greeted by calls of awe and disbelief, a fantastic end to this long and tedious tour. The Waving Sally needs some extra tweaking, but no one found out. Marie was astonishing, her acting is of no parralel, but even she is exhausted. we have some funds left for a short break. better make them count!\n\n\n29/09/1970 - I'm so darn stupid. Idiot! Oh that filthy traitor, that Judas. I swear I'll get him back for it. Leaving like that, that rat! Words of his departure came to me from a maid, no less! That is what I get for putting my trust in some darn banker. Haven't left a single dime behind. I'll have to fire most if not all of the crew, probably sell all the set pieces as well, if I don't want to live in the streets. Mark my words, Jefferson, I will find you.\n\n\n11/10/1970 - This is getting seriously rediculous. I sent letters to the all theaters I can think of, yet no response ever came. If this continues like this, I might have to head back to London... \n\nNo. Get yourself together, you are the best. You swore by your own talent to never go back. Things will look up. But in the meantime, I should start coming up with something new, maybe play on my old fans.\n\n\n02/12/1970 - It has been... what, three months since my last tour? what happened? next week I'm due to be expelled from my stinking shame of an apartment. Marie is the only one who stayed, keeping us barely afloat with occational jobs. I have no crew, my gadgets are broken and rusty. I guess there is no way out of this: It is time to go back.\n\n\n05/12/1970 - I had the craziest dream last night. a vision of the ultimate illution. It was like nothing I had ever seen! and it works. Wonderous in its simplicity, I managed to build it from scraps. A trick like that can easily stun a crowd! ask and you shall recieve. I can only hope to hear that mysterious voice once again.\n\n\n06/12/197 - Her voice, such sweet echoes of hope and wonder. Her whispers carry with them promises of all I had ever wished for, and proof to back it up! Marie thinks I had gone mad, but I Haven't felt this confident in months! tonight came not one trick, but a DOZEN. All made from items I either had or could easily obtain. \n\nI promise to fix your neckless once we get out of this mess, Marie. just a little longer, and we will be saved.\n\n\n07/12/1970 - It did not come tonight. Where are you, my light? I need you. I want to hear your secrets. Please. Don't go... Don't leave me like everyone else...\n\nA man just came knocking on my door. Apperantly he saw me preforming in the streets and recognized me. I have a show. Tomorrow.\n\n\n08/12/1970 - It all happened so fast. Marie was thrilled, almost bouncing with anticipation. We had one rehersal, but we needed nothing more. The stage was tiny and the audience filthy and common, but I guess that under my fancy suit and up-kept apperance, I was too. The lights lit up, and the show began. \n\nAne after another, I had presented all my tricks. My art. My soul. but it ran out too quickly. I froze for a moment after the last trick, realizing there was an entire hour left. This was my only chance to redeem myself. This is the end. The stage bagan to move, the ground shook, my eyes were filled with shining spots of light. And then, her voice came. whispering wonders I could not even imagine. Not even I could follow her tricks. But here it was, right there at my disposal, my salvation.\n\nBut the price... this time, she asked for more than just strings and metal rods. Oh, fair lady, always making sure to leave all the materials right there in front of me. \n\n\"I need a volunteer from the crowd!\" I called, sending my hand to one of the men in the first row. And then it began. \n\nTonight's show went splendidly, as expected. each one of my tricks was greeted by calls of awe and disbelief. Not even I could believe the miracles I could Summon, shadows danced in front of my eyes and seemingly stationary objects became... alive.\n\n\n09/12/1970 - The Landlord has arrived, and I had his money. And then some for his trouble. My next client payed in advance.\n\n\n01/01/1970 - My christmas tour became more and more popular, better than it has ever been! grand halls filled to the brim, with others waiting outside! But people are starting to get suspicious. they see the connection, and no metter how I try to cover it up, they see my volunteers don't come back. \n\nI had to look for the homeless before my previous show, knowing none shall dare come to my stage ever again.\n\nNever mind that. In three days I shall preform to the Queen, in London. Then, my fame will know no bounds.\n\n\n05/01/1970 - Dear heavens, what have I become. \n\n\n06/01/1970 - I have to bring her back. somehow... How could I do that?! My dearest Marie... I'm so sorry... but the voice in my nightmares won't come back...\n\n\n07/01/1970 - My darn hunger for power consumed my soul. To hell with it! Take it all! all my power! all my fortune! please! \n\n\n08/01/1970 - It answered. One last time, a salvation came. Her orders were simple: A fair trade. The woman I love, for the only person I had ever shown favor towards. The ceremony was long and bloody, those darn simpletons don't know a just cause when they see one. But they are gone now. I must look like a mess. \n\nShe will give me my catalyst, and Then I can go back. back to when Marie was still with me... back when everything was okay. I'll take away all I used to care for, all my fame and glory, and when past me will kill himself; Marie shall be free. \n\nI always hated bankers, might as well desguise as one. I already have the perfect plan. \n\n\nHe closed his eyes, And the voice showed him the path.\n" ]	1

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