post_text
stringlengths 0
17.5k
| post_title
stringlengths 8
314
| comment_texts
listlengths 1
74
| num_stories
int64 1
74
|
|---|---|---|---|
You, the God with Alzheimer's, cannot seem to recall the moment of your ascension to godhood.
|
[WP] Try to remember the moment you became a god.
|
[
"Well I think it was right about when I commented on a funny reddit post. I can't remember exactly but as soon as I started typing I heard something slam in my kitchen.\n\nAs I walked through my lounge door way I saw a dark figure standing there, or it was my dog I cant recall. Anyway it started speaking to me and I couldn't quite catch what it was saying. It had this frail old voice and dark rings around its eyes.\n\n\"Toiiiillleeetttt\" it said to me with extreme urgency.\n\nI guided it to the bathroom where I watched it urinate.\n\nAnyway as my dog exited the bathroom I gave it a robe and it went back into its kennel.\n\nSuch a great dog ol lassy. Would come without hesitation and fetch me whatever I needed. When I was asleep it came up to my face and sat on my chest. I thought I was dreaming and woke up out of breath. \n\nLassy started speaking to me while watching me sleep. \n\n\"Greg you have to wake up, you won't remember anything however your a god now. Oh bark bark bark, bark bark.\"\n\nI think that's when I turned into a god however I'm not sure.\n\nWhat was I talking about again? \n\nOh that's right how my cat named Jim and I went for this giant adventure!\n\nJim and I were great pals, I took him up Mount Everest, up the Eiffel Tower and even sky diving! We did everything together and it was great! He would keep me company as we went on our travels.\n\nI adopted Jim from a shelter in New Zealand and from there we never left each other's side. One night I heard a bang in my kitchen and that's where I found Jim getting into the milk. \n\n\"Bad Jim!\" As I yelled at him he did his cat eyes and I went on to put the cat on my face and pat him. But that's when the weird thing happened.\n\n\"Greg, Greg listen, your a god now. You can create things out of nothing! Meow, meow meow meeeooowww.\"\n\nI didn't catch the part after nothing but I think he was just meowing. He had milk all over him the silly cat. I cleaned him up and we went to bed.\n\nThat's when I had this crazy dream. I dreamt that I witnessed the Big Bang along with Zeus and Jesus Christ. I'm not too sure what they looked like however I think Zeus looked like Liam Neeson and Jesus Christ looked like that guy from the Passion of the Christ film.\n\nPretty cliche I thought. \n\nThey looked at me and asked me how I got there, who I am and am I a god?\n\nI said \"well yes I am, Jim let me know. He also spoke for a bit then stated meowing again.\" \n\nJesus looked at me and said \"ah sounds like Jim, how is the old boy?\"\n\n\"Oh he's great! Still purs loudly and wakes you up.\"\n\nJesus looked at me in great confusion. \"What was Jim when you saw him?\"\n\n\"Well Jesus he was a cat.\"\n\nJesus started laughing. \"You didn't see Jim, you saw Jack!\"\n\nJack I thought? I don't remember any Janes."
] | 1
|
There sure are a lot of God related stories on here.
|
[WP] God finally got his modem working, and he's surfing reddit for the first time. He finds /r/WritingPrompts.
|
[
"\"I can't belive i fall prey of my own rules.\" God was angry, after 10 year of having bought his modem he hadn't been able to make it work.\n\n\"The energy leaving is proportional to the change inside, Bullshit\" He had been trying to connect to the internet without *cheating* but after all this time he was craking up.\n\n\"Screw it, the universe will be fine if there's just one exeption.\" A pale blue coulored lighting hit the modem. \"Finally\" God said in a chant of victory.\n\nAfter Installing Firefox so he didn't need to use IE, God enthered that page all the angels had been talking about, reddit.\n\n\"Alright, so what does one do here?\" To the almighty everything seemed like useless information, just like everybody on earth saw it. \"Cats, memes, videos, people saying faggot… it seems like the norm\"\n\nIn the endless sea of information one link cought God attention:\n\n[WP] God finally gives up in humanity, so he posts a reddit threat asking for suggestions on how to end the world.\n\n\"Well, that would be fun\" God said while laughing. \"Tough, don't think I would do that. Anyway, let's see what other wicked ideas this people have\"\n\n[WP] You find a proof that god exists, he appears in frony of you and tells you why you shouldn't release it.\n\n\"Well, it looks like this place isn't really isn't a total waste of time… ugh, except maybe this one, this one is straight up stupid\" \n\n[WP] God finally got his modem working, and he's surfing reddit for the first time. He finds /r/WritingPrompts.\n_______________________________________________________________\n\n:D the meta is real",
"\"Hey Michael, come in here for a second.\"\n\n\"How may I serve my Lord?\"\n\n\"Come and take a look at this.\"\n\n\"A human contraption? How did it get here?\"\n\n\"It's a computer, one of them was clutching it in his hands when he.. he died from excitement apparently. I wanted to see what the fuss was about for myself.\"\n\n\"Why take one up to your divine palace? Forgive my questioning, but can't you see the mortals operate the things on earth.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I can't make them click on the links I want them to. It's all back seat view of course. Free will isn't something I take lightly Gabe. But still, it's frustrating to see them get distracted all the time... And then there's the endless masturbating.\"\n\n\"I am appalled! Do they not know that thou are watching over their shoulders.\"\n\n\"From what I've seen on this machine they do. They don't seem to care.\"\n\n\"They must pay for this insult! Surely this means thou intends to invoke the Revelation?\"\n\n\"Sort off. I was never really happy with the things I wrote back then. Those idea's are all old and done. I couldn't think of anything truly creative and new. So I kept putting it off.\"\n\n\"Forgive me. I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Well that brings me to this little gem I found.\"\n\n\"I see white a blue colored fields and human script. Tales? These describe transaction between thou holiness and.. I bear not to utter his name in this holy place.\"\n\n\"Lucy, yes. Oh don't fret. They're all fictional.\"\n\n\"They DARE take the name of THE LORD's NAME IN VAIN!? HERR-\"\n\n\"Oh calm down will you. That's why I brought it up. There's a lot of creative idea's in here, written by mortals from all over the world. It gave me a fresh idea for that end times plan you guys keep harping on about.\"\n\n\"We serve until the end of time. It is our destiny.\"\n\n\"Right, so it's up to me to come up with a good apocalypse now and then, and I'd say we're due.\"\n\n\"Now and then? I don't understand.\"\n\n\"Never-mind that. Don't worry about it. I promise there will be a good ending to this story.\"\n\n\"...So you wish to start with these degenerates then? Make an example of those that defile your name?\"\n\n\"On the contrary. I'm making them all prophets!\"\n\n\"Prophets? Thou are going to send them a vision? A warning of times to come? How generous my Lord.\"\n\n\"Nah. I ain't telling them jack. No, no, no. I won't be the one coming up with the details this time. From this moment, everything they write shall come to pass.\"\n\n\"But my Lord! That could be catastrophic! Your holiness is in many of these false premonitions!\"\n\n\"They won't be false now. And that's the idea. This will be chaos beyond their comprehension, one that will rise in complexity until it will be beyond even mine. At last I'll finally be done and it'll be my turn to rest. A true end this time.\n\nOh hey, there's a few new posts already. True stories. All of them.\""
] | 2
|
[WP] Throughout the generations, the remnants of mankind have held onto one saying in all their time in captivity: "A good human always lies."
|
[
"Waif was one of the most honoured servants on the ship, she had the priveledge of serving on the bridge. No manual labour, no fighting for scraps, she even had a warm bed arranged for her in the bridge quarters. Like all of the human stations hers was hidden inthe shadows at the edge of the room, in a shadow between two of the huge pyramidal supports of the ostentatious bridge.\n\n\"Another revolt, we had to purge the whole batch.\" the older of the aliens said. She was a feeble thing under that hermetic sut. Just an anemic grey stick figure shrouded behind that amber dome. In the suit she stood seven feet tall and her voice was loud and booming and a red captain's cape fluttered over her upper left shoulder. But under that suit she was the frail snivelling little creature that had to conive and scheme and harness other species to claw its way through the stars. Waif tried not to look at any Overlord too long lest the hateful snarl that always came out gave her away. \n\n\"I don't know why they do it, they've never once succeeded.\" Said The Captain's Son. The Son was loud and boastful even by his species standards but he was never cruel to the humans. Instead he treated them like pets, he trusted them for he could never imagine why they should want to hurt him. The Waif hated him most of all. \n\n\"You ask me it was a mistake to uplift them. They're pack animals not herd animals, they need conflict to maintan dominence.\" Said the ship's scientist. He was well known on the ship for his experiments on the human mind, or more precisely its limits. All the slaves knew someone who went into his chambers and never came back. An unfortunate few even knew those who did come back, broken, shuddering, screaming at the slightest thing out of place and yet not a mark on them. \n\n\"Nonsense, they're easily domesticated.\" Said The Son. \"You there, do you like serving us?\" He asked as naively as a child. He was pointing to the Waif, and all of the sudden the happy anonymity of the shadows had left her, instead she was exposed in front of three of her slave masters.\n\nWaif remembered what her parents always said *A good human always lies*. and just then she understood that weary old saying. \"Yes.\"She lied. \n\nThe Son gave a toothy stupid smirk, \"You see, there's still a few good humans out there after all.\" \n\nAnd Waif just bided her time."
] | 1
|
|
Write about his transition from actor to superhero, his feats, or whatever you think he might do.
|
[WP] After making heinous amounts of money from Marvel, Robert Downey Jr. decides it is time he actually becomes Iron Man
|
[
"\"Fuck It\" he said.\n\n\"What are you complaining about now?\" said Lisa.\n\n\"I'm going to build myself an Iron Man suite.\" he said with a slight grin on his face. \"The world's shitty enough. I have the money. I have the resources. The world needs someone like Iron Man.\"\n\n\"Yeah, except that your wit doesn't make you smart AND you tried this before, last time you were drunk.\"\n\n\"This time is different\" he began stumbling to his feet. The beers were hitting harder than he expected.\"I have a plan. You see, I have actually BOUGHT myself a team of scientist to make the suite. They are starting work on it as we speak.\"\n\nBeer shot out of Lisa's mouth. \"Now THAT is funny. Sit back down before you hurt yourself.\"\n\n\"I'm serious. They are top notch. I met them online, on a highly prestigious website called Reddit. These guys know their stuff\", he said.\n\n\"Oh yeah, well how much did you pay them?\"\n\n\"Well since this is ground breaking technology, a pretty large sum.\". He shrugged and started to sweat a little from his brow.\n\n\"How much?\" she asked again.\n\n\"Pretty much everything I have. I figured, when I get the suite I'll be able to come up with more money doing charity events and such\".\n\n\"And what were the names of these so called scientist, if I may ask?\" Lisa questioned.\n\n\"I think Bruce Banner, Smarty Mcsmartpants, and Ryan Choi.\""
] | 1
|
[WP] You sell your soul to Satan in exchange for the most beautiful singing voice of all time. However, he tricks you, and it turns out your new singing voice is ineffective around other people..
|
[
"Never make a deal with the devil. Everyone knows not to, yet somehow he still finds suckers. Like me. My story starts a long time ago, like everyone's I'm sure. Looking back, it's no surprise I ended up here.\n\nMy entire childhood, I grew up around music. My father was a famous symphony conductor. I rarely saw him, as he was constantly touring around the world. Mom stayed close to home. She would have loved to tour as well, I'm sure, but she knew us kids needed someone. Instead, she played the organ at church every Sunday. \n\nMelody, my oldest sister went on to become an incredible violinist. Even my brother, Preston, managed to have a good run with his punk band. I never had any luck with music though, despite my best efforts. Growing up I was awestruck by the choirs at church. I wanted to be like them, making beautiful music without the need of an instrument. \n\nI worked hard at it, I really did. My parents said they would always be here to help when it came to music. They wouldn't let me have voice lessons though, apparently it can be really harmful for a child's vocal cords. I tried to turn all of my piano lessons into singing lessons, but all I really had was singing by myself at home. \n\nIn high school I discovered I was tone deaf. My parents and teachers had known for years. They thought it would be easier for me to handle later. “She is just such a sensitive child,” they'd say. You want to see a sensitive child? Try watching someone so proud of their voice get mocked by their friends. \n\nI gave up on music for a long time. All the faith I had was rudely ripped away from me. Questioning everything, I explored the deeper parts of the used book stores, and later the internet. It was on a crappy GeoCities page that I saw the ritual. Summon the devil and make a deal. I should have known better, after all, I was raised a good upstanding Christian. \n\nIt was hard to care, and it's not like I really believed it would work. What little faith I had left, only presented itself as hope that it would actually work, that I'd actually get to make a deal with the devil. So I did it. I set up the ritual, said the words, and there he was. A man, in a suit, with a presence far beyond his stature. \n\nThe moment came and went in an instant, and yet somehow lasted an eternity. Our conversation was not filled with words, but ideas. He comforted me for the betrayal I felt. I've never felt so close to anyone, as I did him. At the same time, an overwhelming sense of wrongness bled through the entire interaction. Every fiber of my being screamed out to run, yet it was the safest I had ever felt. \n\nI stood in the crossroads for hours afterward, just feeling the breeze taking the edge off the early summer heat. What I had done did not hit me, the deal I had made barely registered in my mind as it sought to comprehend the totality of what I had just experienced. As my mind finally began to became my own once more, I started singing. \n\nEverything felt right as I stood in that crossroads, singing my heart out. I sang a song I had never heard before, and somehow had always known. This was my song. The song I was always meant to sing. As the sun dipped down to the horizon I knew I had to leave. I had stayed too long after the deal, I was warned about that. \n\nAll I could think about, was going to visit my family and showing them how beautifully I could sing."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You were on an interesting field trip to a meat-processing facility. As you admired the sleek machinery, you saw your friend discreetly steal some of the raw meat right before it entered the processor. You watch as your friend cradles the plump human baby.
|
[
"\"Our society is perfect.\n\nThe Human Civil Rights Act of 2177 clearly states that human society has the right to be free of all imperfections. *All* imperfections, ranging from genetic deficiencies to behavioral maladies that might manifest themselves into actual problems that may affect others. The Act gave the High Council of the Commonwealth of Earth the legal authority to use whatever means necessary to ensure the preservation of our society.\n\nIt was necessary, you see. After the last of the great bombs fell in the Last War about three centuries ago (the exact dates have been lost), our species was greatly threatened by another issue--radiation contamination of its DNA, resulting in mutations from benign to grotesque. Most mutations occurred in the brain, resulting in reduced mental capacity and--in most cases--psychological distress of the specimen and, to a lesser extent, those around it. Physical mutations were simply the next step--if anyone noticed an imperfect growth or other oddity on a specimen's body, it was assumed the specimen would also be psychologically damaged. Both sets of mutations always resulted in reduced productivity to the society later on in life, and this simply could not be tolerated if humanity was to have another chance to thrive. Of course, once humanity reacquired the technological capacity to scan for imperfections in a specimen during gestation and after birth, the overall genetic threat to humanity could be slightly reduced by eliminating the specimen from the gene pool. However, once the lack of animals used for food became unquestionably apparent, specimens selected for removal suddenly found another use.\n\nOnce humanity was truly united after the Last War, steps were taken to restore order. You see, some years passed before the Perfect People were able to emerge from their bunkers to rule over the landscapes which they ordered shattered and burned a short time before. When the specimens attempted to rebel against them, the Perfect People brought their weapons out of their bunkers and slaughtered many of them. When the specimens began to organize and fought back with their own weapons, the Perfect People united with more of our ancestors from the other countries and worked together to restore order to the chaos that had reigned in their absence. It is that order which preserves our society today. It is that order that brings us the nourishment humanity requires to be productive in a perfect society. And we invite everyone to join our great society! \n\nEven the specimens have their part, as they are the foundation upon which our cities are built. They provide the production to accomplish menial tasks not fit for us, as well as the meat that sustains us. Our ancestors made sure that, despite the lack of nutrition available in the Early Years, that we would have the food necessary to survive. Without that vision, our society would perish. Every specimen parent-pair is required to bear at least two children--one to carry on their work, and the other one to donate to the food bank. And the meat is perfectly safe to eat!\"\n\n\"Question, professor?\"\n\n\"Yes, Adolf?\"\n\n\"Given that we are now able to grow far more crops than we need to survive, is there a timetable set to reduce or even eliminate the need for specimens in the society? I've checked the economic figures, and I believe this would drastically reduce the strain imparted on our economy from sequestering all specimens in the camps, security issues, and space usage.\"\n\n\"Ahh, excellent question! Unfortunately, I believe the specimens will always be needed, as the animals used for meat were either destroyed in the War, or were otherwise too damaged for consumption. In any case, there have been small scientific advances to cloning these animals from their genetic markers, but those have met with little success so far. And humans do require meat consumption for a healthy brain. Until we can produce enough meat from an animal to be sure of its reliability to sustain the society, and once we relearn how our ancestors used \"ro-bots\" to perform the tasks too base for us, I'm afraid the specimens will be a very necessary--but separate--part of our society. Stephanie, did you have your hand up?\"\n\n\"Yes, professor Maddick. What about this specimen, here? It does not seem to have any physical imperfections at all. Aren't food bank donations supposed to be limited to just those that have been physically tainted by the radiation?\"\n\n\"Well, some physical issues may not manifest themselves until well into adolescence. Please put that back. We do not wish to interrupt this facility's productivity. These machines are very precise, and they may complain if they detect something missing.\"\n\n\"Yes, professor.\"\n\nThe conveyor belt dutifully bore the specimen-baby into the maw of the machine, which silenced the baby's cries almost immediately.\n\nTruly, a perfect society."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] When humanity is gone, will there be anyone who mourns our passing?
|
[
"Humanity was gone. It had fallen through the hands of the man who worked so hard to make it thrive. The human race was independent, looked out for it's own, but it also caused it's downfall. They became so advanced in technology that they lost site of what was important and brought everything down. \n\nThis was not what God made humanity for, he made humanity to love, care for one another and improve the earth he made. God sat on the earth and mourned his creations. Individual work on each and every 7 million+ of the humans, gone.\n\nThen he thought of what to do next. Trial and error? Or to scrap the idea. God came to the conclusion that he'd try one more time, trial and error. He'd start with two and let them grow, hopefully they'd know better and change their mistakes, not be creatures of habit, to improve like they're made for. Change for the better. God constructed two new beings and even made them a garden, he called them Adam and Eve.",
"The dogs mourned them, as we all knew they would, nosing helplessly in the hollow places, eyes fixed ahead waiting for 'master' to return. It was a meaningless gesture to begin with, a misguided attempt at solidarity, to ever count them among us. They were the humans', through and through, and as such were the first ones up against the wall. \n\nIn time, we would consider this an atrocity, the twisted strictures of a dead race reenacting themselves through a new generation. But even as we looked at them through the sights, saw their mutated proportions, their sloping backs, bloated abdomens, squashed faces, stub noses struggling to breathe - we knew this was a mercy. "
] | 2
|
|
[WP] Humans were created by technologically advanced aliens. They sometimes come to Earth to interact with their creation and are worshiped as gods. Today, they are back...
|
[
"Two ships left. When I woke up that morning I'd been sure this day would bore me out of my mind. I'm still not convinced it didn't quite literally do that.\n\nThe surprisingly satisfying crunch of collapsing metal behind me, I reloaded the Plasma Thing. At least I pulled the lever that I thought reloads it. Better superstitious than sorry. The glowing mess of alien clichés gave off a happy, high pitched purr, and I was as back as I was going to get back into business.\n\nI didn't look back. Partly because I always wanted to casually ignore a massively cool explosion, partly because I didn't want to know what collateral damage I had caused. Back in the day, when I read in the news about old drone strikes, I used to be sick of the carelessness with which we all accept unintended civilian casualties. If they were unintended, I used to think. The musings of a man who had never been forced to sacrifice something he didn't own. Well, that day I did, and I probably did.\n\nBy the time the crackling of fire and creaking of metal had faded into the sounds of mayhem ahead of me, I was thirsty and determined, the best state of mind to get things done. I followed the screams, then the chants, then the smell of mago-scented brimstone, and found the next Holy Ghost. Ugly little bastards. They looked like a mix between an ape and a lizard, if the ape was ten feet tall and the lizard was made of tanks. He instantly spotted me crossing the sea of bowed heads and pleas, cocking his head at the sight of my Plasma Thing. I wanted to drop a cool line, but I couldn't think of one, so I fired. The explosion kicked me back a few feet, and by the time I regained my balance, the blue orb of death I ejaculated hit Roboape straight in the face. He collapsed like a high school boy that just lost his virginity, and for the next five minutes or so, I had only the sad fucks that tried to worship this has-been savior to worry about. \n\nI fired my Plasma Thing into the air to encourage the opening of some breathing room, and yelled at the confused but angry mob.\n\n\"Here's your fucking prayer, dickhead! That's what I should have said.\"\n\nThey didn't get it. Never mind. The sound of the Plasma Thing allegedly reloading got them to second guess their murderous attitude, and they started wandering off just in time for my transport to arrive.\n\nThe first thing you notice when one of those little combat carriers arrives is the sound of loading high caliber high speed darkmatter capsules. It's not a very imposing sound, until you know what they do, then it's the most terrifying sound in the world. I didn't move, so they didn't fire. They just landed intimidatingly close to where I was standing staring daggers at the bloody thing, ejected two techno-lizzards, and disarmed my Plasma Thing with a confusing hand gesture.\n\n\"Take me to your leader,\" I repeated with a hint of shame at my lacking creativity, hoping they wouldn't notice. \"Wrrrglr Brgith Hrckwghe,\" came back. I elect to believe that means \"nailed it\".\n\nLike the high-minded idiots that they were, they loaded me onto their flying mess of stopping power and brought me to their ship. Talk about a God-complex. Yeah, okay, maybe I was disarmed, outnumbered, outteched, outmuscled and outsmarted, but I had the only thing worth a damn in this fight: Hatred. Darting into action, I twisted out a cable on one of their weapons and threw myself to the floor. An explosion later, we hurled into the docking bay like a tumbleweed made out of lead, and I threw myself through a resulting hole in the vehicle that must have seemed tiny to them. I crashed to the smooth floor of another fucking God's sacred temple with a sizeable gush on my leg. They crashed into the hull with a bang. Bleeding isn't fun, but it's more fun than exploding, according to the screams.\n\nA few corridors later, I came across the heavy footsteps of another almighty. I snuck up, pulled myself up his back by a fistful of cables, kicked myself off again to unplug them, and watched my lord and savior appreciate the details of Terra's atmosphere. Once the flailing had faded into miserable shivering, I claimed my Prize. The second best thing to an ice-cold beer, another Plasma Thing. It purred, I grinned, and we were off to start another reformation.",
"\"This is out last EXO-bio location we need to examine. Universe C-34.\" Said a very tall, lanky man from behind a white desk which had no legs but hovered off the ground. \n\nA shorter man about 5'10'' stood at the viewer, a giant red planet coming into view with distant blue dot in the back. He spoke, \"Dirt, i recall is the name.\"\n\nThe man behind the desk replied, still looking at the report both creatures were still. \"If you wish to talk in tongue, its called \"Earth\" while yes synonymous with dirt they are not the same.\" He put the report down, still starting forward at nothing in particular. \n\nThe shorter one turned to face the desk. \"They are still searching for other life. They know they SHOULD NOT be a lone, that it is almost impossible for life to exist in only one location in the universe.\" He continued as he started moving towards a chair in the middle of the room. \"You know why they save this life form for last right?\"\n\nThe man at the desk darted his eyes toward the other, \"Yes. Most of us dont come back the same. That humans are always Waring and butchering each other.\"\n\n\" We created them. We destroy any other forms of life we find in this universe. We have forced them to be a lone and look what they have become.\"\n\n\"it is not our job to judge\" said the man behind the desk, their tone of voice unchanging. \n\nThey were interrupted by a beeping coming from no where in particular. A holo-screen popped up on the desk. \n\n\"They spotted us\" said the short one. \"How could they-\"\n\nThe one behind the desk had already started to move to start the self destruct sequence. \"We cannot jeopardize this experiment. And you know what they did to the test group we sent 100 years back to \"crash land\". \" \n\nThe short one watched the viewer. A whole fleet of at least a dozen war ships were hiding behind Europa, Jupiter's moon. \"Do you think they want revenge for what we have done?\" His voice un changing. \n\nA transmission appeared on the viewer taking up the whole window. A real human was sitting in a chair, an evil smirk on his face and scar from over his right eye down across his lips made him look menacing. He spoke like a sly, deep voice, \"Hello, creators. Weve been expecting you\" "
] | 2
|
|
Cue evil cackling...
|
[WP] "Don't fail..." The voice was almost a whisper. "If you do, I'll let them live..."
|
[
"How in the world am I ever supposed to do this? If I fail he’ll let them live, If I succeed he’ll get rid of them for me. I have to do this. No matter what have to succeed in the task before me. \nOkay, just stay calm. Breathe. In through the nose out through the mouth. Okay again. In through the nose out through the mouth. Now open your eyes. Zero in on your target. And jump!\nFew almost went wrong there. Okay you’re almost there. Just need to open the door and get what he asked for. GOT IT! I DID IT!\n\nThe little boy jumped off of the counter back down on the bathroom floor with a bottle of lice-shampoo\n“Daddy! Daddy! I’ve got it! Now you can kill those stupid lice!”"
] | 1
|
[WP] You are unknowingly a main character on a very popular show, but the person playing you has changed mid-season.
|
[
"I’ve always thought my life felt like a really bad made-for-TV action movie. \n\nAll across the desert, dozens of wannabe racers flanked us on either side. Most of the contestants -- us included -- used SpeedyHover racers, but I also saw a lot of SmashBusters and Explode-O-Matics. The sound of engines being punished flooded the air as everyone revved their rigs in a pointless, if not loud, show of bravado.\n\nGreen light. Her SpeedyHover 4 / Rally Certified (SH4RC, or “shark” if you want to sound “cool”) was slightly faster than my SH3, but I was able to keep up. For some, these rallies meant going out in a blaze of glory and taking as many competitors as possible with you. For us, it meant winning. We NEEDED that grand prize.\n\nOur plan was to dart around the violence and rocket so far ahead that by the time anyone noticed we weren’t dead yet, we’d be too far along to catch up.\n\nGreen light. We’re off. Seconds after we started, a well-armored car to our right exploded in a massive fireball of twisted shrapnel -- much of which landed directly in our path. Swerve. Dodge. Parry. We made it. Our cars got a little banged up, but we were putting some good distance between us and the calamity behind us. Sometimes, when things went to plan, it felt like we had our own team of writers scripting our lives.\n\nIt didn’t take long before we saw them. Three heavily-armored vehicles had broken away from the melee and were desperately trying to catch up. Being so focused on our approaching threats, I didn’t notice the rock directly in front of us. Both of us hit it. Both of us stalled. Both of us tried to start our engines. I succeeded. She did not.\n\nWe had to finish this together. I couldn’t just leave her there, so I did the unthinkable. I uncoupled my protective gear, stepped out into the open, attached the jumper cable to the batteries, and used the power from my car to start hers. Her shark roared to life. Another ten seconds to toss the cables, jump back in, and punch it, and we were on our way.\n\nTime literally froze. Not figuratively; we simply stopped. No inertia, no dust, no wind -- just stopped.\n\nThis was all wrong. Three well-dressed men appeared out of nowhere. Two were holding briefcases. What the hell were they doing out here? HOW could they be out here? Am I having a stroke?\n\n“Sorry guy,” they said. “I know this is going to be weird, but you’re getting a midseason change.”\n\nI don’t understand. What were they talking about?\n\n“Look, you’re just not doing it anymore. It isn’t working with the younger demographic. Frankly, you’re just not believable after that little stunt you pulled. Your ratings have, if we’re going to be technical here, tanked.”\n\nI was now more confused than ever. I looked to her for help but she was as frozen as the dust clouds behind my tires. I tried to scream as I felt myself being ripped from reality. I felt nothing, no sensation at all, but I could see myself floating up above -- like I was being pulled up into the sky.\n\n“Christ Ed,” said one of the men. “What did I say?”\n\n“Yeah, I know,” said one of the other men. “I thought it would work.”\n\n“You’re an idiot,” said the third man. “It’s going to take us at least another season to recover from your little stunt.”\n\nThe second man looked down at the ground as a new person started to materialize in my car. Just before they faded completely from my view, I heard him say it:\n\n“We should never have had him jump the SH4RC.”"
] | 1
|
|
hat tip: /u/SteelWithIt
|
[WP] Sometimes it's better to go back to sleep and not be brave.
|
[
"I inhaled deeply as I laid on my back, pulling the covers from over my head as my face greeted the cold atmosphere. I must've left the air conditioner on last night. I looked around, admiring the sun reflecting off my room's pale blue walls, as the familiar hum I slept with remained in the room. I checked my watch, then noticed I was alone. My wife was probably in the bathroom. I can't believe I even woke up this early. I pulled the covers over my head, turned to face the wall, and closed my eyes--only to be interrupted by my stomach's growling. I sighed, flipping the covers off of me to the point where they were hanging off the bed a bit. I then grabbed my dark blue slippers, my robe, and my rectangular glasses.\n\nI walked down the steps slowly as the cold breeze from the air conditioner flooded into the halls and journeyed downstairs with me. I walked through the living room, turning off the television. I walked through the well-lit dining room, past the basement, and finally arrived into the kitchen. I sthered to go to the light switch, but decided to just let the sun light the room for now. I sat myself down in my usual spot at the kitchen table. I switched on the television. It wasn't that good anyway. Just boring politics and stuff. I grabbed my rolled up newspaper, pen in hand, ready to do the local crossword--and that's when I saw it. Out the corner of my eye, it was just sitting there. Staring at me. There was a spider on the fucking table, and I was powerless to do anything about it. So I did what I had to do--I shifted from my seat, silently. Its beady eyes watched me as I eased from the chair to the door. It took a step forward each time I took a step forward. \n\nBefore I knew it, we were already at my bedroom. I had kicked my slippers off moments before. I was huddled up on the bed, and the thing was on the floor in front of me. It just sat there as I sat there. I quickly turned, pulling the sheets from the side of the bed and pulled them over me as I lied on my back. I didn't know where it went, and I damn well sure wasn't going after it. I closed my eyes, hoping this was just a nightmare. ",
"\"Aaaaaah!\"\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\n\"It was a giant snake. A lizard head. It was going to eat me.\" The boy said holding back tears.\n\nThe old man shushed the sobbing child and he leaned back in his chair as the boy's breathing became steadier but no less deep.\n\nThe old man grunted in approval. \"I see Madam Daine's teachings. Can you calm your heart as well?\"\n\nThe child's mood shifted slightly as he controlled his breathing. The old man held his wrist, he needn't have. He could see, as the child's audience, he wanted to impress, to not seem weak or not up to the challenge. Besides it wasn't his body the boy needed to control.\n\n\"Can you still remember the dream?\n\nHe shook his head.\n\nSighing the old man brought a flame to the herbs once more. \"You only have what you take with you. The desire and want must be let go. You think you are protecting yourself, ignoring the dangers and forging ahead regardless. But our dreamstate is not like we are now.\"\n\n\"I know. But I forget.\"\n\nSwallowing he places the smoking herbs on his lap and the boy inhales deep. \"Take this,\" and whispers in the boys ear before he fell into sleep once more.\n\nWhen the boy was under again she stepped from the shadows. \"What the hell was that? What did you say?\"\n\nIf the boy was awake he would see a different man. His expression more sharp and forceful, filled with determined purpose. Slowly and with a measured tone he said \"I reminded him to remain true to himself.\" He paused, waiting for the inevitable outburst raising his voice \"Without,\" he stared intently at Madam Daine \"Using the word 'true'.\" \n\nHe didn't wait for a response. He'd had these arguments more times than he dared count. He could see her anger and exasperation on her face as he stomped into the corridor.\n\nRaising these kids to the next plain without proper training or experience, what were they thinking. Were they that desperate? Or just greedy.\n\nThis boy though. He'll survive. But will he be alright?\n\nThe old man shuffled to the next room. Long periods in Dreamstates took its toll mentally. They didn't experience time, these higher beings. And have no patience for the ego of humans.\n\nAll emotions are the same to them. They see us either excepting what is, or we are denying ourselves to them. Or hiding. Depending on the entity. So much confusion, so many misunderstandings. 'I'm just glad he's moving away from what they believe is bravery' he thought to himself. 'He's definitely got a fighting chance'.",
"Jon lay awake in his cell. Scratching at his shaggy dark hair and thick beard. His orange jumper hung from his bunk air drying. The walls were stripped bare of everything, with the exception of his pencil made tally marks. They numbered 7,300. His cell mate Matt lay beneath him sighing at the prospect of a long night without sleep, as he always did on anniversaries of his cellmates arrival.\n\nThe hours ticked by with Jon's sobbing echoing off the concrete walls of the cell. Reaching a breaking point Matt snapped. \"God Dammit Jon, I have told you a hundred times you have to knock that crying shit off. You're in prison man, have been for twenty long years now. Just fucking accept it already.\" Letting out a long breath Matt regained his composure, and in a softer, although not very friendly tone said. \"At least tell me why you are here. I have listened to your sobbing for the last 15 years without even knowing why. You're a hard a man as any outside this cell. Yet every year without fail you break down into a child. I think after everything we have been through I deserve to know.\"\n\nJon let out a low grunt and dropped to the floor from his bunk, sitting on the stool across from his cell mates bed. His eyes were shot red from the tears he made no attempt to hold the back. Setting his gaze upon Matt he said. \"Before I tell you my tale I want your word that you will never again speak to me on the anniversary of my incarceration.\" Matt gave a nod indicating his agreement.\n\nJon let his tears flow freely as he took a moment to mental steel himself. As he had not recounted the circumstances of his imprisonment before. It took him a while to begin but once he did he did not intend stop until his story was finished. Taking a slow breath Jon looked at Matt and said. \n\n\"There are a few things you have to know about before I can get to the meat of this story. Of my family I knew only my mother and older sister. Although, know might be a strong word. My mother was rarely around and when she was she was sleeping. Working three jobs tends to have the effect. My sister was a few years older than me, and as such spent much of her time away from he house as high school girls do.\" Jon paused ever so briefly as he conjured up images of his mother and sister and continued as if he never stopped. \n\n\"My father died in the war just before I was born. I always felt the need to protect my family as I was the man of the house. Even as I was a small boy. The night in question was just over twenty years ago. I was fourteen. My mother was working the night shift at the diner down the block and my sister was asleep in her room. A loud bang jerked me awake. I remember fear. In a moment that felt like it spanned my entire life, all I could feel was fear. It was then I remembered something my father had said in a letter delivered by the military shortly after he died. My mother had only let me read it the year before. It said among other things that bravery was not the absence of fear but the perseverance to do what needs to be done in the face of it.\"\n\nThere was another slight pause before Jon brushed his hair away from his eye's and continued. \"Remembering the words my father wrote I grabbed my baseball bat and charged downstairs desperate to protect my elder sister. Turning the corner I blasted into an intruder. Without thinking I started wildly swinging my bat. I'll never forget the crunch of bone that reverberated through the bat to my hands as it connected over and over again with the intruders head. In my rage I didn't see the second person. I didn't even hear his screams as I beat his partner to death. It wasn't until he turned on the living room light that I realized what I had done. As much as I try to forget the image of my sister's bloodied and caved in skull, and the look of horror upon her boyfriend's face, every year it comes flooding back to me. Because of the severity of the beating the state charged me as an adult and here I sit. The only thing I can think is that I wish my father would have told me that sometimes it's okay to not be brave and just go back to bed.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n",
"It's already midnight??.... Time flew faster than I thought it did, but I gotta watch my shows.But I just got out of bed a few hours ago after my nap, it sucks being old. Billy said he come by tomorrow; he's been meaning to fix the pipes under my kitchen sink. Such a sweet boy, always there for his old mother. Too bad he's not here right now, I could definitely use help going up these stairs, these legs dont work as well as they used to. \n\nFinally! Back in bed. I can't remember the last time I was this tired. As I lay back down in my head touches the pillow, I find it really hard to keep my eyes open. But.... Something's wrong I can feel it. The air feels thicker as getting a breath in is taking every ounce of my strength, my vision is getting blurry. Every part of my body feels like it's slowing down.\n\nNo! Not yet!! \n\nI am dying.... I know it, I can feel it. Yes, I have accomplished things in my life. There's one thing however I will not accept and that is for my son to find me like this. When I pass from this world , I want to him by my side so we can say our final goodbyes. But like this?! Alone , and unable to tell my son I love him one last time. All our lives they tell us not to fear death to live as fully as possible and to go with no regrets. And yes, I have always believed that and lived life fully up to this moment. But experiencing it... Is a completely different story. I just need to hold out until morning and then I can say goodbye! The air is getting heavier. \nNo!!\nI feel numb.... When I try to move, there is no response from my legs or arms. \nFight it!!\nI will not go out like this! I need to see him, my boy! So.... This is true fear. I thought I had every scenario worked out.... But not this. My child is healthy and happy, and that is all I can ask for. In truth, I am afraid of death. I don't know what lies Beyond, but I am not ready. Everything's getting dim..... please! I just need more time to figure it all out... I am afraid. But now.....\n\n\n\nDarkness....."
] | 4
|
[WP] Magic (a la Skyrim) is real, and wizards are a part of everyday life. Instead of magicka, however, casting spells temporarily drains intelligence instead. Describe The Great Mage's War.
|
[
"\"Cast and get out. As soon as we break cover they'll be all over us, so I need you to keep it together so we can make a run for it.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, I've done this before. I can handle my drain.\" I clench my sticky notes in one hand, stand up behind cover, and aim my wand at the approaching formation of tanks. Time to fight for my country.\n\n*\"Frango, frangere, fregi, fractus!\"* I incant.\n\nWhoa. Those are some strange machines over there. All big and tan and with big tubes sticking out. Except they're all broken. The metal bits were torn open, and there were people jumping out and screaming! Oh my god, they're on fire, what happened?\n\nUh-oh. They look angry. Did I do something wrong? There was something I was supposed to do, but I can't remember. Some of the men are coming this way.\n\n\"Get down, you idiot!\"\n\nI hear a *bang* and someone tackles me. He's holding a big metal thing like the other men are, but wearing different-colored clothes.\n\n\"Ow! What was that for?\"\n\n\"Read your goddamn sticky notes!\"\n\nOh. There are some notes in my hand. Written in really simple words, so they're easy to read.\n\n*This is a friend. He'll keep you safe. Do what he says.* It has a little picture of the guy who just tackled me.\n\n*The men who look like this are bad guys. Don't let them see you!* It has a picture of the men in tan uniforms.\n\n*Your friend will help you get away. Run fast!*\n\n*You'll get smart again in a few hours. Don't die until then.*\n\nI look at the picture again, then look at the man. I guess I'd better listen to him. Those bad guys looked *really* mad.\n\n\"Where do we go?\"\n\n\"We have a helo waiting for extraction about two klicks west of here.\"\n\n\"Exa-what?\"\n\nThe man sighs and points towards the setting sun. \"Good guys, that way. Look for the big spinning flying thing.\"\n\nHe crouches behind a broken wall and grips his gun tightly. \"I'll suppress them... I mean, when I start shooting, you start running.\"\n\nHe stands up and starts shooting. It's *really loud,* and it sounds like the bad guys are madder than ever! I hurry in the direction he pointed.\n\nI hear a *boom* behind me, and then the man with the gun is running past me, very fast. \"Goddamit I hate being the minder! Move your ass!\""
] | 1
|
|
[WP] A kidnapper has a change of heart and releases his victim. But the victim's Stockholm Syndrome makes them frighteningly obsessive and possessive.
|
[
"//A little NSFW towards the end.//\n\nI’ve been in the business a long time. Hell, I’ve come so far I’ve even got a 401k and dental. Pretty decent given that I kidnap people for a living. It’s not a hard gig. You take a few bruises and scratches here and there, maybe a bite if they’re feisty. But once they’re gagged and tied up, it’s all smooth sailing from there. \n\nHere’s how it goes:\n\nStep 1: Monitor. Figure out a person’s patterns. We’re very predictable beings, so this is stupidly simple. Especially when social media became a thing. I don’t even have to follow people anymore, just on Instagram. \n\nStep 2: Pick em up. You’d be amazed how many people don’t notice their surroundings. I once picked up a kid who was *holding his mom’s hand* because in her other hand was her phone. Smartphones have been the greatest invention when it comes to my profession, I swear. \n\nStep 3: Gag, bind, and hide. I hide in my apartment in central city. \n\nStep 4: Sit and wait. Another guy does the negotiating part. I pretty much just babysit a sack of potatoes for awhile.\n\nStep 5: Release. It usually takes a day or two till I get the text. Three if the father drives a hard deal. \n\nMy current run all went perfectly until Step 5. It’s been seven days. Seven. This sometimes happens if the kid we got was particularly disliked by their family. Cruel world, I know, but it does happen. So now I’ve got this 15-year-old girl sitting next to me on the couch, eating cereal and watching TV. You might be thinking why hasn’t she made a run for it yet? Your question is as good as mine. \n\nBoss man told me to give it up on day five. The girl’s dad wasn’t budging, and it just wasn’t worth the trouble. I’ve could’ve caught and released two others by this point. We were losing money holding on to this one, so I was told to just get rid of her. Which I did. Two days ago. Out at the park ten miles away. You can only imagine my surprise when I got a knock on my door a couple hours later and there stands the merchandise. I was so flabbergasted she just waltzed right in like she owned the place. Now I can’t get rid of her. \n\n“Listen, kid, I’ve got a job to do.” This is me on day seven.\n\n“What do you mean? I’m right here. You’ve already got a kidnapped victim.”\n\n“I already told you, you’re not getting paid for. That’s why I let you go. That’s why you need to leave. I’m really not sure why you’re still here.”\n\nThis is the third time we’ve had this conversation. It usually gets derailed right there. \n\nThe teenage girl, whose name is Rebecca by the way, leaned back and stretched out her legs. Her ankles and wrists were pristine, not a single rope burn on them. I could lie and say I was just that good, but the truth is, it means she didn’t even struggle against her restraints. Her head fell back against the couch as she let out an exasperated sigh. \n\nOn her first night here as a non-victim she apparently went into my room at some point to steal one of my undershirts and a pair of boxers. She was now wearing these with no bra underneath. So as she stretched, her form underneath was quite visible. I may be a man who is also a criminal, but sex with an underaged girl is something that never appealed to me. Going to prison for kidnapping – sure, risk of the job. Going to prison as a pedophile? Not gonna happen. \n\n“You’re the one who brought me here against my will,” she said, her eyes rolling over to me as she stayed laid out.\n\n“But you’re not here against your will now.”\n\nShe shrugged as if this were of no consequence. “You gagged me,” she said, eyes fixated on mine as though she were daring me to refute her words, “Tied me up.” She smiled a little as she let shit hit the fan. “I know who you are.” \n\n*Fuck.*\n\n“Jack Robinson, 32, Caucasian male living in Apt #203 at the Hampton Heights. You were a military brat, then joined the army like your daddy. Honorably discharged at the age of 21 after a tour in Iraq. You got in league with an old battle buddy of yours, who was not so honorably discharged, to do what you do now. Kidnap people for a living.”\n\nWhen I sat in stunned silence, she continued while she ran a hand over her taught abdomen. Her tone was neutral, as though this were all terribly boring. “I know his name too. Rick Black. Isn’t it funny when a white man has the last name Black? I think it is. Anyway, I’ve already texted my daddy to let him know you’ve raped me over and over, so he might be rethinking not getting me back now. Here’s the thing, either you fuck me now, or I’ll let him know who you are. I don’t know if he’ll kill you himself or let the fellas at the prison do it for him. I really love the idea of men being made bitches out there.” \n\nRebecca crept over to me, making my skin crawl and stomach turn. Her hand slid up my thigh as she whispered into my ear, “I’d love to watch them make you one. You choose.”\n",
"\"I can't believe you'd freaking do that to me, my love. After all we've been through, together!\" said Elizabeth.\n\n\"We've known each other for literally two hours,\" replied the Terrorist ordering a taco at Taco Bell.\n\n\"It was my first time! I can't believe you'd take that away from me,\" she said angrily, a loaded shotgun in her hands.\n\nThe Taco-Bell cashier raised an eyebrow before resigning himself to the horrific life of the late-night shift.\n\n\"I'm gay,\" came the Terrorist, \"I didn't even touch you.\"\n\n\"I didn't mean something as LEWD as that!\" she blushed bright red, \"I was talking about the kidnapping.\"\n\n\"Jesus christ, in what world is kidnapping romantic?\" the Terrorist bit on the soft shell of a delicious Taco Bell Nacho Cheese Doritos Locos Taco, now only $5.00 when ordered with a crispy taco and a medium drink combo.\n\nThe woman's eyes bulged, \"How is kidnapping not romantic?! It implies intimacy and desire!\"\n\n\"You read too many books. Next, you'll be telling me that if a dwarf gives a fucking rock to an elf, it's pure vanilla romance.\" said the Doritos Locos Taco lover as he sucked at his fingers for the oozy drip of tangy cheese, \"Besides, I'm engaged.\"\n\nThe woman felt her heart shatter, \"No!\"\n\n\"His name's Jake.\"\n\n\"You liar!\"\n\n\"I met him like, six years ago on Tinder.\"\n\nElizabeth refused to believe it as she stood, gun-in-hand, hopped up on pure, eighty-percent cocaine. She cocked her shotgun and emptied the two slugs that were previously stuck in the double-barrel weapon.\n\n\"Did you just-\" the Terrorist raised an eyebrow as he swished from his paper cup full of Coke Zero. As good as regular Coca-Cola with all the calories of a Diet Coke. You don't know zero til' you try it.\n\n\"Love me or I'll shoot you!\" Elizabeth screamed.\n\n\"Your gun isn't loaded anymore, you crazy girl!\"\n\nAll of a sudden, the Terrorist's cell-phone began to rang.\n\nElizabeth's eyebrows furrowed on her temple. Before the Terrorist could respond, the girl had snatched the mobile iPhone SE from his pocket.\n\nThe iPhone SE. Most powerful 4-inch phone of 2016. With the same power of a bulging iPhone 6S, the SE provides long-lasting love and piped-up performance in an average sized package. As they say in the language of my people, big surprises come from small packages.\n\nA voice came to life on the cellular speakers.\n\n*\"Hey, Gabe! It's Jake, so I was deciding on what suit I should get for the wedding next week.\"*\n\n\"Who the hell is this?! Have you been cheating on me, my love?\" Elizabeth gasped with a broken heart.\n\n\"I don't even know your freaking name- Just give me my phone back.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because if you do, you'll ruin everything precious we've built together! Every dark and twisted trial we've been through! Every fight we've had! Every time I tried to find your number before my parole officer came to drag me away!\"\n\n\"Your mind sure is a dark and twisted place isn't it?\" the Terrorist named Gabe shook his head before wiping his hands off on his dark pants. Dark Pants. Now 100% more effective than the leading Light Pants at hiding stains. Find them at your local Wal-Mart\n\n\"So, what're you wearing right now, Jake?!\" Elizabeth screamed into the cell, breathing with her mouth open.\n\n*\"Uhh...\"*\n\n\"Jake, I swear to god, if you say khakis-\" the Terrorist named Gabe began.\n\n*\"Khaki shorts.\"*\n\nElizabeth howled like an ape stuck in a zoo and turned the gun to the Terrorist Named Gabe, squeezing firmly on the trigger.\n\nGabe, who was sitting about twenty feet away at this point, continued to munch on his taco.\n\nElizabeth was shocked. Had the power of love spared her lover of her jealous scorn?\n\nShe turned the barrel of the still very-dangerous gun to her head and pulled the trigger again.\n\nNope, still nothing.\n\nShe then proceeded to pull out few more slugs, cracked back the shotgun, shoved two in rather harshly, and yanked the device closed with a loud crack. Elizabeth turned the shotgun around by the trigger and stared right into the barrel, making sure the bullet was securely in place.\n\n\"Gun safety! Stop messing with that, it's not a toy!\" Gabe shouted between bites of Doritos Locos.\n\n\"That's right! Yell at me like the maddened, passion-driven beast you are!\"\n\n\"What in the hell is wrong with you, goddammit?\" the Terrorist mumbled, irritated and hungry, \"It's been like, two years since I got out of prison for kidnapping you instead of the English Elizabeth!\"\n\n\"Yeah! Just like that! Even louder!\"\n\nWell, Gabe supposed it was time to call that parole officer again before anyone else got hurt. You blow one cell phone up on live TV, and this is the hell he was supposed to get?\n\nHe savored the taste of his taco and Coke Zero, mixing and melding in his mouth. It was almost time for his shift the pet shelter for rehabilitated criminals, after all.\n\n\n\n\n"
] | 2
|
|
[WP] A young man is given unlimited wishes, the bad side being that every time he wishes for something he forgets something very important.
|
[
"\"When you make the wish, It shall be granted.\" The voice in his head repeated. \"But remember this, Every time you make a wish, you forget something important\". \"Ok whatever, get on with it.\" Those were the words of in ignorant man.\nIt was one day later when he made his first wish.\"I wish I was a billionaire\" He felt something appear in his pocket, it was a wallet.\n \nA day later he had this uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. \"I wish this feeling would go away\" It was gone. When he got up to leave the room he tripped and the wallet fell out of his pocket. \"What's this for?\" He asked to no one in particular.\n\nFour days later the man died. He died rich, but he also died hungry.\n\n The End ",
"\"You're... retiring?\" Paul asked the man standing in a cloud of smoke. He had dark shades, and wrinkles covered his skin.\n\n\"That's right. After a few millennia, you want to break out of the confines of a little lamp,\" the man said, gesturing to the bronze oil lamp below him.\n\n\"So, you won't grant my wish?\"\n\n\"*I* won't, no. But you can.\" The genie then waved his hand, and a thick book with 'Da Rulez' inscribed on the cover appeared in his hand.\n\nAs he began to flip through the pages, I couldn't help but ask, \"since when do genies have manuals?\"\n\n\"Long story involving, wands, wings, floaty crowny things... it's best not to get into it. Ah,\" the genie said, \"found it. In order to bestow the ability to grant wishes to a mortal, I have to bestow some sort of curse to maintain equilibrium.\"\n\n\"Sorry kid,\" the genie turned to look at me, \"nothing I can do about it. I'll choose a lighter curse. I can bestow the ability to grant wishes upon you, but every time you grant a wish, you will forget something very important.\"\n\n\"That's a light curse?!?\" Paul exclaimed. His memories were very important to him. That's all he had left of his mother, for starters. But what if he forgot about his wife? His kid?\n\n\"I'll pass.\" Paul said. The genie shrugged.\n\n\"Your prerogative.\" Paul walked away, muttering about 'bullshit curses' and 'ridiculous rules' when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned to face the genie again, who was already grabbing boxes of books and china.\n\n\"How long does this offer stand?\" Paul inquired.\n\nThe genie looked at his lamp, paused, then replied, \"It'll probably take me a while to move everything out of there, so lets say a week.\"\n\n\"Great. Do you mind if I take the lamp with me?\"\n\n\"No problem. Just don't leave me anywhere near a smoke detector.\"\n\n---\n\nA week later, Paul rubbed a bronze oil lamp. Purple smokes wafted out of the lamp, coalescing into a wrinkly man with dark shades. \n\n\"I'll take you up on the deal.\" Paul said curtly.\n\n\"Great.\" The genie snapped its fingers. \"Boom. Done.\"\n\n\"Really? That's it?\"\n\n\"That's all it takes. You now are the proud owner of magic granting powers.\" The genie sounded as if he couldn't be less enthused about the situation.\n\n\"Huh. Alright. Well, enjoy your retirement!\" Paul strode off, fantasizing about his newfound power.\n\n\"Right, first things first,\" Paul said to himself. He pulled out his phone and a piece of paper with the term \"bubbles22\" written on it. He entered that password into his phone, unlocking it. Paul then pulled up the notepad document with every important memory and responsibility he could think of in the past week written in it. He had spoken with his wife, his father and a few of his closest friends to compile every major event in his life, in case he forgot one of them. \n\nSatisfied with his preparations, Paul took a deep breath and fulfilled his first wish.\n\n\"I wish I was a millionaire!\" Paul snapped his fingers, and instantly a notification appeared on his phone. \n\n \"Notice: a deposit of 100,000,000.00 has been made to your account.\"\n\nPaul grinned from ear to ear. He instinctively switched back to the notepad and began perusing the list of memories.\n\n\"Wait... why is this here?\" Paul asked himself.\n\n\"As if I'd forget this stuff! I guess I'll just delete it.\" Paul then deleted the document and put his phone back in his pocket.\n\n\"Hmm... this place is a long walk from home. I wish I could teleport!\" Paul snapped his fingers. Then, with a mere thought, teleported straight to his doorstep.\n\n\"Man, this is great! I can grant any wish, with no repercussions at all! What a nice genie.\" Paul went to unlock his door, then realized he forgot where his keys were, so he simply teleported in.\n\nOnce inside, he was greeted by a hole in the wall, one made from when he and his wife first moved in.\n\n\"I wish that hole was fixed.\" With a snap, the hole in the wall healed.\n\n\"Hi honey, how did it go?\" A woman approached Paul with a kitchen knife, with tomato juice still covering it.\n\n\"Who are you?! Why are you in my house!?\" Paul exclaimed.\n\n\"What... Paul... don't tell me you forgo-\"\n\n\"I wish you were gone.\" With a snap, the woman was cut off mid-sentence, never to be seen again.\n\n\"Phew, that could have been terrible,\" Paul muttered to himself. \"Good thing I can grant wishes.\"",
"You had dried off your tears, went through the rules again, and had decided how the day would go. The last time you made a wish, you ressurected your great-grandfather. I can't describe how pissed off everyone was that you forgot the man who held you in his arms as an infant, been the patriarch of the family for so long. But there it was. You knew you could make a wish, and it would be granted a the price of losing relevant memories on the subject of the wish. You thought you could abuse it easily, think of all sorts of loopholes. But then you aced your Math Test. What should have been a happy occassion turned to horror. You had always been amazing at Math, but had you always been amazing at math yesterday? All of a sudden, the world was unfixed. You had no idea what was natural, and what was wished up. You refused to make wishes again. Then she came along. Sally, the most beautiful girl in the world. And indeed, for you she was the world. For months, you pinned after her. You could never pluck up the courage to tell her how you felt. She was always in your mind. But then came the day she told you about Dave. Dave was an old friend from middle school. You had all but forgotten about him. But now, he turned up in your life again, as the boyfriend of the girl who should've been yours. Suffice to say, things did not turn out pleasant. But this was the day you'd make up for it. You went to her house, and apologized. After an awkward minute of conversation, you turned to leave. As the door closed, you looked back, and said \"I wish you two a happy life together.\"",
" -\"How many wishes?\" Did I ask carefully to the genie.\n\n -\"Technically, an unlimited number, but there's a catch.\" he said, annoyed. \n\n -\"A catch?\" I asked, raising an eyebrow.\n\n -\"Yes, you will forget something very important each time you wish for something.\" He answered, in a sigh.\n\nSo, I have a genie. And unlimited wishes. And a minor, solvable issue. I think the proper behavior for this situation is screaming \"JAAAAAACKPOOOOT!\" until I pass out, then enjoy being given basically free reign over reality.\n\nI was grinning so hard my face began to hurt.\n\nBut let's take things slowly. Before getting my private penthouse on the moon with a harem of supermodels, let's get rid of the forgetting part.\n\n -\"What's your name dude?\"\n\n -\"I have been called many names, but you can call me Tantalus.\" he said flatly, glaring.\n\nHuh, a genie with bad attitude. Annoying, but I can work with that. After all, I can wish that part away, isn't it?\n\n -\"Okay, I wish I won't be affected by the 'forgetting something' part of the deal, Tantalus!\"\n\n There was a light.\n\n********\n\n And I grant him his wish. He will never forget anything if he wish for something by reaching me.\n\n That's it, if he ever finds me again.\n\n For all he knows now, he's in a landfill, dumping his stuff. Why would he ever think of picking that ugly-ass lamp, since he even forgot what a genie even is?",
"Dave stared at the paper he held in front of him. \n\nHe knew he had a grandmother somewhere up North, but she wasn't close. To him, or to the family. \n\nSo, it came as a shock to him that she had died and had sent him a post-death letter, delivered by her lawyer. \n\nEven more shocking was what the letter said. \n\nHis grandmother, apparently, was an unlimited wisher. A kind of being that was completely human, but had unlimited wishes. But there was a catch - every wish stole a memory. Which is why she had written this letter and left instructions with her lawyer to deliver it to Dave. \n\nDave was stunned. He felt like he had just won millions. But there was a twinge, at the edge of his mind, clouding the happiness. Losing memories COULD be a big deal. Only time will tell. \n\nFirst things first - Dave followed grandmother's instructions, and wrote a letter to his nephew, Bryan. Bryan was only 3, but Dave was only 23 and was not yet married, and didn't have children of his own. \n\nHe then sealed the letter, and sent it off to his grandmother's lawyer, with an accompanying cover letter, explaining who he was. \n\nDave rubbed his hands together with anticipated pleasure. \"So much for the preliminaries, now on to the main event... \", he thought. \n\nDave's first wish was to be handsome, muscular and strong. Before he could blink, he was. With eager anticipation, he walked to the body length mirror in his room. He looked like a Greek demi-God. \n\nHe decided he couldn't wait to tell his Mum. He quickly went over to her house. Wanting to surprise her, he quietly let himself in and tiptoed upstairs. \n\nThat's when he saw the monster. He was hitting her. His back to Dave, the animal had her tied up on the bed. Dave's mother had her eyes closed in pain. Every muscle in her face seemed to scream pain. \n\nDave was on him like lightning. \n\nHe tore him off the bed, and with his newfound strength, threw him against the wall. Dave didn't stop battering the assaulter until his skull was smashed in. And Dave's knuckles had torn open. It was bloody and gruesome. \n\nDave turned to his Mum, who's mouth was a perfect O. \n\n\"DAVE! WHY DID YOU KILL DAD???\"",
"I was determined not to stumble down the street, but I was definitely feeling a little tipsy. A voice called at me, but that was normal on a Friday night. They probably wanted some change for the bus or something. The voice came again, this time in front of me.\n\n\"Wishes, as many as you desire. Though be warned, you are the buyer.\" it hissed.\n\nI tried to focus on the form but it was like smoke that could barely hold the shape of a man.\n\n\"Wishes,\" I mumbled, confused.\n\nI stared in to my memory and tried to remember how many drinks I'd consumed over the night. It had been quite a party. Maybe I was already asleep and this was a dream. It certainly made more sense than a ghost offering me wishes. \n\n\"A wish of any size, costs a random memory of equal prize \"\n\nThe hisses were insistent and scratched at the back of my head. A faint laughter followed.\n\nMy bladder wanted in on the discussion and reminded me that yes, I had in fact had many drinks and that I should probably find a toilet.\n\nWanting nothing more than to find relief and my warm bed, I waved at the smokey man as I continued my delicate walk home, \"sure, sure,\" I said laughing at the idea and trying not to slur, \"I'll wish for things in the morning,\"\n\nI awoke and felt instant regret. I tried to clear my gummed up eyes and squinted in the direction of the blaring sun coming through open curtains. Last night was a haze but it had definitely been a good night that I now wished had ended a little sooner and with a bit less drinking. \n\nI stumbled to the bathroom and felt a wave of pain through my head with each step. I sighed at the state of me staring back in the mirror. I quickly consumed some headache tablets, showered and tried to make the best of the morning. \n\nThe foggy memory of the ghost made its appearance as I was half-way through a bacon sandwich that was going a long way to making me feel better. I thought back on it and laughed at being offered wishes as if real life was like a Disney movie.\n\nI stared at blobs of tomato sauce that had dripped on to my plate and wondered.\n\n\"What would I wish for if wishes were real?\"\n\nMy stomach chose that moment to protest at its treatment during the night before and I lost my appetite. Dropping the half-eaten sandwich on to the plate, \"I wish my hangover was gone,\" I muttered. I stopped and listened. For a second, I though I'd heard a weird hissing sound, but there was nothing.\n\nAfter a few seconds, I stood up and cleared away my breakfast. After dumping my plate in the sink, I realized the kitchen was in a state and figured it was a good a time as any to clean up. \n\nIn record time, the kitchen was sparkling and I figured I might as well continue being productive and cleaned the rest of my apartment. It wasn't long before I stood in the living room and looked around at the now spotless space and smiled.\n\n\"I should clean my flat more often, this looks great.\"\n\nI sat down on to the sofa and switched on the TV. I was still feeling pretty energetic. I flicked through some channels and couldn't find anything worth watching. My phone buzzed and I casually reached over to my phone and read the text.\n\n*'Great night last night, you were buzzed!'* I stopped and stared at the text. \"She must've sent it to the wrong person, we didn't go out last night.\" I laughed, dropping my phone on to the sofa, \"she's living it up, our party is tonight.\"\n\nI flicked on to the news. It was report after report about the usual incidents happening around the world.\n\nI sighed, \"it's always the same, I wish anybody who even thought about being violent would just drop dead.\"\n\nA scream. I looked towards the window and heard more frantic screaming. I rushed over and saw someone lying on the pavement, a gathering crowd consoling a wailing woman.\n\nAnother commotion behind me and I turned around to see the news detailing reports of people dropping dead all over the country. I stared in horror.\n\n\"What's happening!\" I said fearfully. \"A virus? Terrorists?\"\n\nI never saw the black smoke that moved towards me, hissing and gleeful.\n\n\"The cost for that wish is most high. The payment will have to be all your memories going bye-bye.\"\n\n\n\n\n",
"I'd always saved my wishes in case I ever needed them. Today was the day. I'd gotten duumped and I really needed a pick-me-up.\n\n\"Gene.\" I called for him. \n\n\"Yes? Will you have a wish today?\" He asked me.\n\nI smiled and nodded, \"Yes I will. Cheesecake please!\" \n\nGene stared at me a moment, but I was impatient. Cheese cake was what I needed. For my luck, maybe it'd be her I forgot. See, whenever I use a wish, I'm going to forget a memmory. \n\n\"Cheese cake? With my sugnificant power, you choose cheese cake?\" He asked in a booming voice.\n\nI nodded again, \"Cheese cake, yup. That is my adult choice.\" \n\nGene granted me a cheese cake. Suddenly, I had a cheese cake infront of me so I dug in. How'd it get there? I looked up at a floating blue man.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I asked.\n\n\"Who am I? I am gene and you get three wis-\" he began to boast.\n\n\"Cheese cake, please.\" I felt like I needed another one.",
"A plume of smoke appeared before me, and before I could even blink, a man dressed in purple was standing where my mothers horrible teapot had just been. \n\n\"WHO DARES AWAKE ME FROM MY- Oh, hello Dave.\"\n\nI raise my hand in acknowledgement.\n\n\"Hey Bryce.\"\n\n\"Got anything you need from me?\"\n\nI nod.\n\n\"Well,\" I begin, \"I just watched that movie Aladdin...\"\n\n\"Oh god.\"\n\n\"And apparently you genies grant wishes.\"\n\n\"Well yeah. Three wishes. Three wishes, and you cant wish for more-\"\n\n\"I want unlimited.\"\n\n\"wat.\"\n\nI nod again.\n\n\"Yeah. Infinite wishes.\"\n\n\"Um...actually, I can do that. But it comes at a cost.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" I ask.\n\n\"Whenever you wish for anything, you will lose all memory of any people the wish will effect. For example, wishing your grandmother back to life, you would forget about your grandmother.\"\n\nI shrug. And then I frown.\n\n\"So what I wished for that jackass Daniel to grow taste buds in his asshole?\"\n\nDave the genie frowns, seemingly confused.\n\n\"Um... Well, you would forget Daniel. But why-\"\n\n\"And I imagine,\" I continue, \"that since I wouldn't know him, the whole thing would be less satisfying?\"\n\n\"Well,\" says the genie, \"yes, but you could grant world peace! You could right the wrongs of the world, and fix-\"\n\nI wave him away.\n\n\"Nah. I'll pass.\"",
"It was always something important. The problem is, what's \"important\" is subjective. It doesn't only change from person to person, but also within a single person as they grow. \n\nWhen it first started, those with the ability would wish randomly. No one knew the consequences. It took a little longer to catch on because those infected were scattered all over the globe. Different ages, countries, genders. For awhile, it was mostly chalked up to faith. \n\nThe wishes--and the consequences--were nothing unusual. A woman in Poughkeepsie won the lottery. She forgot where she hid the ticket. It made the news when she found it a year later, long after it expired. Some dude in London wished he was the Prime Minister. When the Prime Minister started insisting he was someone else, but couldn't remember who he was, they popped him in the nut house. A guy in America wished he could win a presidential election, then forgot how to be human. At least, that's what everyone claims.\n\nBut the wishes and the forgotten things weren't always related, either. A kid in Iowa wished for an \"A\" on his math test and forgot where he put his car keys. He missed out on a big date. That one never made the news. That was my dad. I remember hearing the story, growing up.\n\nEventually, though, people figured it out. Then there were tests. At first it was voluntary. People were asked to participate. Paid for their cooperation. No one wanted to cooperate. Why should they, when they could wish for the money without being poked and prodded.\n\nThe government in America started rounding up the \"infected\". They were arrested and gassed and strapped down. Then Frank Baker wished the scientists would all die. \n\nHe was found unfit to stand trial for murder when he forgot pretty much everything. It seemed each scientist counted as a wish.\n\nThings calmed down after that. For the most part, people learned to adapt. The things that are important to kids change every day, so they wished the most. The elderly, who tended to forget things anyway, they made a lot of wishes too. Ironically, they mostly wished to remember. Everyone else was more careful. And the world was a better place, I think. \n\nSome people wished to help others. Cancer was cured--though the guy who made the wish forgot his wife who had cancer. It's okay, though. She was kind of a bitch and was planning to leave him anyway. Some people got rich, but money didn't matter so much anymore. Not to those infected with the right to wish for their own happiness.\n\nExcept... I think, maybe, people don't always know what they want. And people will be people no matter what you wish for. If, say, a woman wishes that everyone would be nice to each other, it works. Everyone who is currently living becomes nice. But babies are born every day. And they grow up.\n\nBy the time I hit high school it was the same as high school's always been. Everyone in different cliques, picking on anyone who was different. I swear, I didn't even know I was infected. I'd never had a wish come true before. It's just something you *say*, you know?\n\nI haven't seen another living person since the day Brian stole my lunch and dumped it in my locker. Not since I said \"I wish everyone would leave me alone.\"\n\nAnd that's all there is. See, I haven't forgotten anything.",
"I wish I had a way to cool my self down! \nBut now I can't remember how to get in to town. \nI wish I had a dick as big as a porn star! \nBut now I don't know where the switch on the walls are. \nI wish for trampolines instead of a floor! \nI do my backflips naked- can't find my underwear drawer. \nI wish I never grow old, like Peter Pan! \nInstructions unclear, dick stuck in a fan. ",
"'Whenever you wish for something, you will lose a memory most important to you.'\n\nThose words stuck in my mind as I remembered when I was young, wanting to be rich. \n\nHow important could memories be anyway? \n\nI'd learnt the answer to that the hard way. I wished to be a millionaire and it happened but I couldn't remember the people who I lived with. They claimed to be my parents. \n\nI never wished again. Thought I'd never wish again. Anything I wanted I could buy. \n\nI smiled as I looked at the little bundle in my arms. My gorgeous baby girl. I would raise her right, she would never go without. \n\nMy heart was with this child. When she cried, I cried. If she hurt I hurt. I loved her so much. \n\nThat's why I wished again. She'd fallen down the stairs. The latch on the child gate had broken. I'd told myself I would fix it soon. \n\nAs I held her small body in my arms, her lips turning blue and her body growing cold, I wished. \n\nI wished for her to be safe, to be well, to never have harm come to her. \n\nMy wife sobbed with joy as she grabbed the now crying baby from my arms. I opened my mouth to speak...\n\n'Why are you holding a baby?'\n\n"
] | 11
|
|
[WP] "So maybe killing Hitler wasn't the BEST idea. We probably should have thought this out more."
|
[
"Killing hitler was pretty much the first thing that any hack with a time machine did. Eventually it was outlawed, and nobody could quite figure out why. Sure, the fact that it went into a divergent timeline was annoying, but it wasn't anything serious.\n\nSo it became a thing to kill Hitler, a teenage rebellion, like smoking or getting a stupid tattoo. It was nothing at first, divergent timelines, some worse some better, depended on how metal the death was.\n\nThe issue came up when there was a bit of a glitch in the system. Time isn't that complicated, it makes mistakes and usually needs to cover it's ass. This time around the mistake was avoiding a divergent timeline, which meant that Hitler had died in our timeline and well- it made things interesting.\n\nFor one thing, the Third Rich still happens if Hitler is dead, he was a catalyst but it only sets them back a year. That being said, Hitler was a shit commander and the man that took over, Jean Von Kerwitz (Yes a Jew) was one hell of a commander. Britain was routed and suddenly there was a free world, and Europe.\n\nThe two sides of the war come to a peace treaty, as fighting a war over the ocean is a bitch. That being said the Third Rich fell monumentally shortly after the treaty was signed. The combined resistance movements of everywhere in Europe was too much for the dictator to bear and next thing you know there is a shattered but free Europe.\n\nThis is right when President R.L Richardson takes the stage in the U.S. He was the sort of man who came to be through a series of horrid mistakes known as the two party system. He was a touch of a warmonger, which wasn't that bad during peacetime, but suddenly there is a fractured Europe to pick up the pieces of. \n\nThe U.S moves over there, having never made the bomb to end the war with Japan. Russia shifts in from the North to stake their claim. Canada, the new leader of the commonwealth after the Third Rich took over Britain, goes to retake the colonies that the commonwealth had lost. A misfire later, the great white North and the States are on pins and needles.\n\nAt this point, the avid reader is probably wondering how this lead to the constant sunshine and perfect weather that we have around the world now. Why I keep speaking like it's a dystopia despite the world peace.\n\nThe answer to that one, I was part of the startup that designed the weather machine that won the war, and those fuckers cut me out right before it went big. Do you know how that feels? I mean, they are the saviors of the world and I am sitting here as part of a team that editorializes textbooks.\n\nAll I'm saying is that we are considered to be the best timeline that has come from killing Hitler, and if that's the case, MAYBE killing Hitler wasn't the best idea.",
"\n“Well maybe I was a little rash.”\n\n“A *little*?”\n\n“Ok very rash.”\n\n“Rash doesn’t even begin to bloody describe it!”\n\n“So what the guy was a complete monster, he deserves everything he got.”\n\n“No! No one deserves that no matter what they did.”\n\n“So what it’s not like we can’t fix it; we’ve got a freackin time machine for god’s sake! There’s literally nothing we can’t fix.”\n\n“No we *had* a time machine.”\n\n“How was I supposed to know that it had a limited number of uses.” \n\n“What’d you think? It just ran on magic?”\n\n“Yeah kinda.”\n\n“Honestly?”\n\n“Well yeah, what else am I supposed to think when I’m shown a literal time machine.”\n\n“I don’t know, but anything’s better than ‘let’s take this magic powered time machine and go kill hitler.’”\n\n“Ohh now your bringing that back up.”\n\n“I told you that there would be grave consequences for messing with the past.”\n\n“Yeah well Hindsight’s 20:20.”\n\n“Well Hindsight didn’t plunge the world into a 2nd dark age.”\n\n“How was I supposed to know this would happen?”\n\n“What’d ya think would happen after you got 6 million dead Jews to collectively crucify Hitler in the middle of London?”\n\n“We couldn’t have planned for all the rioting.”\n\n“No we could have *if* you actually bothered to listen to me for once.”\n\n“Well what’s happened happened.”\n\n“You’re right. For now we’ve got to concentrate on finding a new way to power the time machine.”\n\n“Yeah, and then off to kill Pol Pot.”\n",
"\"That's what we all said\"\n\n\"Alright well let's dwell on the past\"\n\n\"Why because it makes you look like an idiot?\"\n\n\"No, because there's nothing we can do about it\"\n\n\"But we have a time machine\"\n\n\"Hey guys, just finished destroying the time machine\"\n\n\"You did what?\"\n\n\"I...I destroyed the time machine. Like you said\"\n\n\"When we get back to our time, disable the time machine, were my exact words\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"That one is my bad\"\n\n\"No one is disputing that\"\n\n\"Now killing Hitler doesn't seem like such a bad id...\"\n\n\"Stop talking\"\n\n\"No talking\"\n\n\"Hey who are they?\"\n\n\"They are a collective of edgy fourteen year olds who got all their fake internet points and validation by saying things like \"Hitler had some good ideas\" and people who are incapable of coming up with non-Hitler based story ideas, who are angry that their life now has no purpose\"\n\n\"Uh-huh, and who are they?\"\n\n\"Those are 9 foot tall lizards\"\n\n\"Ssssssssssup\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because /u/SarkasticWatcher is a repetetive hack\"\n\n\"Fair enough, fair enough. And who's that?\"\n\n\"That's the corpse of Hitler\"\n\n\"Right, right and who are you?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"I'm very high right now\"\n\n\"This isn't helping anything, we need to fix this mess\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Fine, I need to fix my mess\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Are you going to...\"\n\n\"Give me a sec...wait I've got it\"\n\n\"Hey angry people, Trump just said something\"\n\n\"Everyone in the time machine\"\n\n\"Hey lizards, someone just posted a politics writing prompt\"\n\n\"Ssssssssso long, ssssssssssuckers\"\n\n\"Now we just have to get in one of the time machines and...\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Now we just have to acclimatize to a 1940s without Hitler\"\n\n\"Oh you dumb motherfucker\"\n\n\"Sup. Guten tag\"\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"The Travel back hadn't been too turbulent, apparently going forward wasn't such an arduous task as forcing your way into the time stream. The two men inside had been in 1934 for weeks planning their attack. A marine corps scout sniper and his spotter, an FBI agent. The unlikely pair was sent to ensure backup options were possible. In the event Corporal George Evans missed his shots, the special agent in charge could devise a plan to overcome and assassinate the third reich's most notorious leadership another way.\n\n\n\nIf only it had gone to plan.\n\n\n\nWell, in a manner of speaking it did. The Corporal was spot on, his Cheytac intervention sniper system was more than capable of the long range shots. The undesired effect came about far after.\n\n\n\nOnce the titanium alloy exterior of their chronological dislocation vehicle iced over, they knew the year. 2049, but something was very off. The door swung open to a group of unfamiliar faced men, all armed, and fairly unhappy. The two were dragged out and put on the floor of the warehouse, the structure looked different from the last time they'd seen in. The men around them spoke what was very clearly Russian.\n\n\n\nEvans looked scared, \"What happened, Sir? Where's the science team that sent us back?\" Agent Cross looked up at the men, clad black in heavy riot armor. \"I think we messed up, Corporal. I think we messed up something huge.\" One of the bigger men swiftly kicked Cross in the stomach, shouting in what was clearly for him to be silent. \n\n\n\n* * * \n\n\n\nThey were taken to lockup and ignored for the better part of three days, when finally a history major came with a translator device. It was the last thing the two of them expected for an interrogation. The man handed them earpieces and began speaking in his native tongue. \"I am here to explain to you the ramifications of your actions, so that you can better understand this world you're now going to have to fit into.\" He smiled as the two received the translation in real time. \"Your countries downfall wasn't extremely surprising, being incredibly isolationist, they hasn't amassed the military or technology necessary to win a global war. Meanwhile the USSR was thriving with our plentiful oil fields and army of millions who hadn't gone to the slaughter. When the time came to envelope your little country into our iron curtain, we faced little resistance. The Germans put up a fight sure, but even they couldn't stand up to us when every one of their allies abandoned them. In the end we conquered everything, and your language is now a dead one. I'm sorry to say.\" \n\n\n\nCross narrowed his eyes, \"That's all well and good, but how did you know where we would come out at? That was only known to the group of men who sent us, and they're surely not even in the same occupational field now.\" The Russian historian laughed, \"That's the best part! One of your secretaries of defense didn't utilize the proper encryption on a few emails when they sent you back. We recovered the coordinates and left them in a place where they would be discovered by our own people in this time line. It held with it an account of everything that had gone on in the first timestream, and what you two were doing about it. We knew precisely where you would be.\"\n\n\n\nThe man asked for his head phones back, then he promptly left. They spent more time completely alone. It had been hours before Corporal Evans had spoken, \"So what do we do now? Live out the remainder of our lives as prisoners?\" Malcolm smirked, \"Son, you're a trained marksman with the ability to put lead miles downrange accurately. I've been working with the Russian language for years, and I'm a human intelligence specialist. We both speak a dead language and we've got all the time in the world.\" \n\n\n\nEvans locked eyes with his superior, \"So you mean... we're going to-?\" The agent cut him off, \"Yes, Corporal. We're going to go repeat history.\" "
] | 4
|
|
[WP] The protagonist of a young adult dystopian story discovers that there was nothing even remotely oppressive about the government and that they were being lied to by the rebels.
|
[
"I didn't recall waking up in this room. It was eery. There were no lights, yet the room was illuminated. The only thing in it were me, the chair I was sitting in and the table in front of me. Dilligan. Dilligan was also taken. They must have him in a room just like this one. I have to get him out. He is the face of the resistance.\n\nBehind me, a door unlocks. Someone walks in. The tap aligned with the footsteps tells me this person walks with a cane. I can smell the person before I see them. The slight hint of alcohol and mint, perfume for men. I try to turn around, but I can't. My head feels like it has been bolted, strapped to the chair. Maybe they used some toxin to paralyze me, or they did experiments on me and made me unresponsive until they wanted me to be.\n\nA head turns the corner. Half of it is inorganic. A rubberlike piece of skin is wrapped around most of his head, like a mask of sorts. Jawline suggests male. He smells of freshly printed plastic, and his smell of alcohol clogs my nose. His unnatural blue eyes appear to pierce my soul, it takes me aback. As he walks, I hear a slight robotic whine. Artificial leg. A veteran of the Settlement Wars ?\n\nHe places the suitcase he carried with him down on the table and starts unpacking all sorts of items. Pieces of broken metal, partially formed into some strange construction I don't recognize. Dilligan's wristband communicator. A block of selfreplicating nanoswarms, still inactive. A picture and some files. He sits down a little stiffly, but he regains his composure and folds his fingers together.\n\nA soothing, gentle voice comes forth from the walls.\n\n\"Goodevening, Terrence.\"\n\nThey knew who I was. Maybe they scanned my mind, or they have a micro chip implanted. That's how they do things. They dehumanize and control everything they get their hands on. I say nothing.\n\n\"I apologize for the resctriction of movement. The warden insist on preventing mobility during sessions like these. Guarantees the safety of both yourself and me.\"\n\nIf the voice was really the man's, it was a little unsettling. His jaw wasn't moving. Could he connect his thoughts to the speakers in this room ? While fascinating, I fear what else he can control.\n\n\"We apprehended you after our scanners picked you up. The nanoswarms you picked up matched missing supplies we sent east about a week ago. A shipment you and your friend took hostage and stole from.\"\n\n\"They were carrying weapons. Incendiary gas canisters, L115 laser rifles and nanoswarms. They were going to use those to kill dozens in a village not far from where we intercepted them.\"\n\nA frown appeared on the man's fake face. Almost human.\n\n\"Kill dozens in a village ? I think there is some sort of misunderstanding here-\"\n\n\"Dilligan told me everything I needed to know.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes. Dilligan. Very capable young man. A shame he uses his talents for such a terrible cause.\"\n\n\"Someone has to stop you.\"\n\n\"Stop us ? From what. Killing people ? We do not sanction that. No one here sanctions the killing for the sake of killing.\"\n\n\"No, right. You sanction killing because they're not you.\"\n\n\"Those supplies you took ? The swarms. They are equipped with spores, minerals and seeds. They are programmed to enter soil and modify its properties to make the soil more available for harvest. If their programming is breached, they can be repurposed to go mad and shred everything apart on a microscopic level. The gas canisters on those transports were to provide a consistent source of energy to the slightly primitive functions of machinery used in your westernlands. The laser rifles were to go north, to our automated troops to combat irradiated wildlife. We have all the documents ready, right here.\"\n\n\"Pfft. You could've made this up on the spot.\"\n\nThe fake man seemed to be confused. \n\n\"Why would you think that ? What have I ever done to you to deserve your doubts, Terrence ?\"\n\n\"What did you do ? You slaughtered everyone in my village. I watched my parents, my brother, uncles, aunts, cousins. I watched them get shredded to tiny pieces by a big, buzzing fog.\"\n\n\"You are from Foratuna, correct ?\"\n\n\"I was.\" I said as I heard the terrified screams again in the back of my head. I struggled to hold back my tears.\n\n\"We were never there. We had the location mapped, but the 'resistance' got there before we did.\"\n\n\"What ? Bullshit. I saw your VTOL's. I saw the symbols.\"\n\nA holographic image popped up. It was concept art of the VTOL I saw flying overhead, but without the symbols. Images of these VTOL's flashed by as he started talking again.\n\n\"These \"VTOL's\" as you describe them. They are Class 5 Sovereign class transport vehicles. We decommissioned them 50 years ago. They have been either scrapped and recycled or remain in war museums. The ones in the war museums are still there. The only ones that we cannot account for were the ones taken from us by a defector. You know him as Dilligan's father, Fasol.\"\n\nFasol's image popped up, but it was Fasol in his younger years. He was in his twenties, and sported a five o'clock shadow and was practically bald. He looked orderly and happy.\n\n\"Fasol had an encounter with a newborn AI in his research department. He was directly exposed to the massive data overload, causing seizures for the short term and psychological issues in the long term. The AI was also stolen by him, he fosters it like a child.\"\n\n\"DEMI.\"\n\n\"That is what he called it, yes. He thought of it as a demigod for its vast amount of power and potential. The AI still has a connection to him, and feeds his desire for destruction.\"\n\n\"Why would an AI do that ?\"\n\n\"It knows that when we get our hands on it, we will remove it from the influence of the outside world. DEMI has become overly fond of it, and has started showing signs of corruption. If we do not stop it in time, it will destroy every living creature it can reach.\"\n\n\"But, Dilligan-\"\n\n\"Dilligan was raised with the idea that we are the worst evil in the world. He has become a soldier for DEMI, like his father. Like you.\"\n\n\"You're lying.\"\n\n\"Have you ever wondered how Fasol knows so much about us ? How he digs into the system and finds out details without finding out about him ? He doesn't. DEMI does. DEMI is smart, and covers its tracks better than Fasol ever could when he was fully human. It's how the nanoswarms were turned from tools of aggrigation to tools of destruction.\"\n\n\"What...what are you getting at ?\"\n\n\"We never came close to Foratuna. DEMI did. He unleashed the swarms to destroy part of the people, but leave enough left to add to his growing army. Didn't you notice how only the capable people were left, but none of the people who might not have been able to fight survived ? It's not the first time its done this. And it won't be the last.\"\n\n\"How do I know you're not just making this up ?\"\n\nI hear a click at the back of my head. My head is released. I can move again. The table slides towards me with all the items.\n\n\"Go ahead. Look through it. Check the editorial dates. You will see that they add up. Because what we have here is nothing but the clear truth. We do not need to hide information from our people. Find what you're looking for. I trust you to be capable of that.\"\n\nI searched. I searched and I searched and I searched more. And it all added up. Interviews, reports from people who were like me and found refuge in the Monolith, videos, a world far too large to fake at my fingertips. My world came crashing down. Fasol was a puppet. DEMI was a full fledged god out to kill the only thing that can stop him. I didn't know what to say.\n\n\"As of this moment, you have two choices. One: you will enter a rehabilitation program. A simple course on learning people how to behave in the city and to check if you need further quarantining. You are one of DEMI's soldiers, after all. Two: we send you out to make it back. We will give you the provisions to make it back to where you came from. If you ask nicely we will drop you off at the nearest checkpoint.\"\n\nThe fake man stood up and the table moved back to him. He started neatly packaging every item back into the suitcase and shut the hologram down.\n\n\"I can tell you how that will go. Fasol, or DEMI, will shoot you both on sight. They know you're here. They'll think you're traitors or spies. If Dilligan presses his luck, he will be killed by his own father. You can mark my words on that one.\"\n\nThe fake man took his suitcase and started walking away. The wall slid open for him. He turned his head to me.\n\n\"You know the choice Dilligan made. You have 1 hour to decide. Choose your fate, Terrence. And choose wisely.\"\n\nHe walked out and the wall closed right behind him. I was left with several answers and dozens of questions, but the most prominent was louder than all of them.\n\nWhat now ?\n\nEDIT: forgot a word.\n\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Fat people are kidnapped and stranded on a desert island to fend for themselves until they are deemed "fit enough" to re-enter modern society.
|
[
"I've been here long enough to know that , soon, the crafts will return for the quarterly harvest. The percentage of us that return to the 'real' world is in rapid decline - this is the third cycle and, nearing the third quarterly harvest, you would think the officials that dump us here four times a year would of made this far more *efficient*. They obviously garner some sick amusement in this practice. Not that I blame them; when the crafts surge up onto the shore and the bellowing screeches and cries of protest of the new *contestants* are carried to us on the salty breeze, my stomach twists with amusement. Amusement and a bitter glee that I will never *ever* be stuck in this predicament again.\n\nI arrived at the beginning of this year. They kicked me off of the craft and the freezing sea water stole the breath from my lungs. It's a wonder my obese body managed to find the fight to swim after I had been sat at a desk for the past four years; the sand had bitten my exposed flesh and, staggering up the beach to the rest that had managed to swim to safety, the trials began. Every quarterly they assess our 'progress'. I have one more to go until I may be fit enough to return to society - but I don't want to go back. Sure, I'm fitter now. I can run through the undergrowth faster than you sure as hell could, the burning in my muscles a sore reminder of every Drive-Thru and late night binge that pushed my body to the brink of death. But I won't go back. If I set foot back in that world of temptation and that dimly lit, grey office where Linda will inevitably scoff at my triple-layered and mayonnaise-slathered sandwich... I'd lose control again. Food was my only solace in that dirty, horrible world. But now? I'm free.\n\nI'm watching one of the newer contestants; he's only been here for the last quarter and, so far, he hasn't been doing all that bad. His name is Eddie, apparently, he's twenty-seven and his wife just about missed being sent here. We all heard him sobbing on the beach the day he washed up; Fiona, the teenager, comforted him until she figured out he is completely and utterly useless. He didn't want to come. Those who come to join is are a particular breed who refuse to feel guilt in correlation to hunger. We're human! We need to eat to live, why not live to eat? Out here there aren't any pita breads - unfortunately, - so we make our own means of feasting. We've been waiting for Eddies' body fat percentage to drop, seeing as too much of that blubber isn't good to cook, and now he's *perfect*.\n\nSaliva oozes from the side of my mouth. Hidden in the dark of the trees my lips stretch into a feral grin, beads of sweat glisten on my brow and my hand slowly tightens around the spear I had crafted as soon as I'd been inspired. Flanking me are Helen and David, the two remaining survivors of our contestant batch, and I know they're sharing the same anticipation as I - slowly, I lean my weight forwards and begin to raise from my hiding spot, careful not to so much as make a peep. Any second now - Eddie stands up to leave the log he had been perched on, lamenting, and I charge. My heart thunders in my chest as I bound through the gloom; I explode from the safety of our ambush with a scream of victory, spear driving up and into the ribcage of the chosen target. Eddie screams. Oh *boy* does he scream. The sound is blood curdling and shrill, echoing across the island as Helen seizes him by his hair, wrenches back his head and rips open his throat with a swift slash of her blade. There's a few bubbling coughs of protect, gurgles and frantic eye rolls, before Eddie falls limp. \n\n\"Hang him upside down to drain,\" David chirps, hands on his hips, \"I'll call the others. We're eating big tonight.\""
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You've just had your prayer for enough money to last you for the rest of your life answered. You received $1.00.
|
[
"I happily jump up and down as I hold in my already cold growing hands this fabled piece of freedom dollar. As I make my way down to the market I get bitten by a snake. What a fabulous day! The snake doesn't get far before the poison gets him.meat, especially Free meat is hard to come by. I wriggle it around my neck like a scarf and resume. After arriving I make my way to the first stand and choose some coconut and tomatoes on random. I don't have time to check out which ones have the least bugs and parasites. Fuck it. Now comes the hard part. After some begging and pleading I convince the vendor who by the way is an childhood friend of mine to accept that foreign currency . He spits me in the eye as he pockets my money and tells me that ain't doing it and I better not be home tonight when he comes to visit my daughters. I just nod and go. After arriving home I hide the food under some straw so as that the dogs Wont smell it and draw a marker nearby on the mud. Is it cold or is it just me? No matter. I know it will get to my heart soon. I curl into a fetal position and wait. And wait. I hope my girls won't let me go to waste. Meat especially free meat is hard to come by",
"One dollar for the rest of my life?!!!! My mind raced. What could this mean? I am I about to die?! No, no I refuse to let that happen. I ran down to the NYSE and picked the first penny stock I find. \n\n\"I'll take 100 shares of GMCR!\" I loudly declared! \n\nI payed the appropriate person the one dollar bill, and went home. For in this story there are no fees at the physical NYSE. \n\nThe next morning I woke up and found that my stock went from $.01 a share to $100 a share.\n\n\"I'm rich!\" I exclaimed, \"I knew G-d wasn't trying to send me a message about my imminent demise!\"\n\nI walked outside to tell my neighbor, Bob, the good news, and out of nowhere I got struck by lightning. \n\n\n\n*Turns out, deities don't like their cryptic messages messed with.* ",
"I couldn't believe my eyes. A single dollar bill was in my hand. I looked at the genie. He looked at me, laughed, and started disappearing back into his lamp. \n\nI thought that I was going to have enough money so I would never have to worry again. No more sleepless nights worrying about how to pay for food for the week, no more collection agents from that appendectomy operation, no more credit card bills, electric bills, or college debt. Most importantly, no more worrying about how I was going to pay enough for my shit-hole of a room. Instead I get a fucking dollar. The genie played me.\n\nSomehow I cried myself to sleep.\n\nWake up at 4 AM. Dress. Eat some stale bread for breakfast. Walk downstairs. Begin walking five miles to work. Wait, I have an extra dollar. I can ride the bus! At least I'll get something useful from this crap.\n\nI put the dollar in the machine as I get on the bus and settle in, across from Jerry, the local homeless drunk, who's passed out. It's better than being by the group of frat boys at the front, probably heading home from clubbing. The driver has some late night talk show playing that I quickly tune out.\n\n\"Cosner Drive\" the tinny automatic voice announced. I reach over Jerry and pull the cord that works to signal for my stop. The clouds light up and go dark again. There must be a thunderstorm coming in. At least I was able to take the bus today.\n\nThe bus comes to a stop. I get up. The driver says, \"Yo, are you hearing this shit? They're fucking with us right?\" \n\nI start to listen to the announcer. \"... it looks like an atomic bomb went off in San Antonio. We're still waiting for details but there was a very bright flash and it looks like the top of a mushroom cloud.\" \n\nSuddenly the frat boys are all talking to each other and obviously upset. I overhear \"Well fuck! They couldn't have chosen a worse time! We have to gear up now.\" With that the one that seemed to be the leader of the group walked up to the bus driver and shoved a badge into his face. \"I'm Commander Tuttle with NORAD. I need you to take us to Chapman's Ranch. Now.\"\n\nI'm thinking through the implications. I can't miss work. They'll fire me for being late. Does it even matter anymore? My life is crap, the closest city to this hell-hole just got nuked. I'm brought back to the present as I fall back in my seat from the bus moving again. I missed my stop! \n\nThe driver is booking it. He makes a left onto Kostoryz, tires squealing. This isn't part of the route! I look at the commander. He's talking into his phone. \"Yes, sir. We're on our way. We'll be on site in 15. I have McIntrye, Talbot, Gowen, and Sadler with me. Yes, sir.\" He hangs up. Commander Tuttle looks at me and a now awake and confused Jerry and says. \"Listen up, we're heading to the ark. I know you're confused, worried, and scared, but this is the only option right now. We need to get to the ark if we want a chance.\" \n\n\"Wha da fugh es a ark? Wha da fugh os goghing on hea?\" Jerry somehow gets out.\n\n\"The US has been nuked. We're launching the ark in case things don't go well.\" As he says this I see three bright streaks out the passenger side windows. Missiles. Heading up. The bus gets on 286 and the driver floors it. I try to follow the missiles but I can't see out the back of the bus. \n\nI panic. I can't breath. I'm going to die. Here. In this shithole called Corpus Christi. I haven't done anything with my life. I notice through the closing blackness that a frat boy is crouched over me.\n\nWhat is that light? I can't place where I am, except it's bright. I try to stand up only to find I can't move.\n\n\"You woke up at the worst time. Hold on and for God's sake, don't puke!\" a frat boy says.\n\nI hear another voice. \"Two one liftoff.\" I'm thrown back and the darkness takes me again.\n\nI open my eyes again. I feel so weird. \"I'm glad you're awake. You missed all the fun.\" Great the frat boy from before. Holy shit! He's flying in front of me. This has to be a dream. \"At least you didn't puke. Welcome to the ark.\" Behind him I make out a window. It looks like one of those photos of the earth from space, except the dark side doesn't have as many lights as you normally see, just a few red patches. And that's when I remembered everything.\n\nThe smug genie was right. Money was worthless to me now.",
"I don't know if it was the dusty George Washington staring in my face that made me do it. Maybe I would be here regardless. I'm not religious, I have no reason to trust that this dollar bill would be my last.\nBut here I am, dirt roads turned into stone pathways half-buried beneath the snow, in a house significantly more blissful yet significantly less capitalized than before. I wonder sometimes if its the altitude that makes the difference. Brooke never really mentioned altitude when talking about the houses she tried to sell. Sometimes I wonder how much she'd price my place at. If it would be worth living in. I'd give her a call, but it's a little late for that.\nI guess the last dollar bill was a catalyst thing. I always liked the cold, and its not like I was gonna get anywhere with a Philosophy degree. \nI'm happier in the mountains.",
"My father had died. He was a failed business man, always coming up with ideas to make money but never really getting there. Sometimes we had money but mostly he lost money. Once, when I was a kid, he \"borrowed\" my little saving for an investment in a telephone directory of free \"800\" numbers. He promised to pay it back and never did. \n\nBut that was not what came between us. In my teen years, he started to drink to relieve the pressure of life and went on to become a drunk. Unfortunately, he was one of those mean drunks. It was his violence fuel by anger that came between he and my mother. My mom had to leave him and she move away across the country taking me with her.\n\nI believe that my father loved me and my mom but his life just got away from him. I know this because my father left me his most treasured possession, his lucky coin. It was a silver dollar. He had found it on the side walk when he was starting his first job as a grocery delivery boy. He took this to be a lucky sign that he was going to make it in this world, to be a rich and successful man. With the start of each new business venture, he would bring it out and show it to us, saying,\"This coin was Manna dropped by God in my path to tell me what my future portended. This time, the coin will do its work and we will be rich.\" Never did happen.\n\nNow the coin is mine. It was not a particularly valuable coin as it was worn from the many years my father would rub it in hope. I had though that I would honor my father's memory and make a gamble on a venture. I used my father's lucky coin to buy a ticket in the two-hundred million lottery and I won. My father was right. The coin was from God but I now think that God had meant for him to spend it and not to keep it as a good luck charm.\n\nRIP my father.\n\n[Same As It Ever Was](http://volunteer11.blogspot.com/) ",
"- Three dollars ninenty nine cents please. - Said the cashier.\n- Just a second. - I answered nervously looking through my pockets. - I only have two dollars, oh and ninety nine cent. - I said showing the cashier money in my shaking hand.\n- I am sorry I cannot sell you this.\n- Please, half of it? Please.\n- I am sorry. I can't.\n- Fuck you then. - I yelled and turned around to storm out of the store, but then I felt a sudden urge. - Could I use the toilet please? \n- Yeah, sure. Whatever. - he answered like he didn't care, because he probably didn't.\n\nI went into the stall and started crying. Even in moment like this I didn't have enough money. That had to be the saddest fucking thing in my life. I put my hands together and started praying, which I haven't done in a long damn time. God. I said. Please I ask you only of this, this one last favor. One fucking dollar, that is all I ask from you. One dollar. Then I waited. I don't know what I was waiting for, but I waited. \n\n- Hey? Are you done there? There are other people that want to use the restroom. - said the guy while knocking on the door.\n- I'm sorry, give me a minute. - then I saw something on the wall in front of me 'wanna earn and have some fun? call this number'. -Oh fuck you, I ain't sucking a dick for a dollar. - I said while opening the door. \n- Yeah, ok man, whatever. - said the cashier, looking at me like I was some kind of crazy fella. Screw him, I ain't. \n\nI could finally storm out of the store like I wanted to, I rushed towards the door like a madman I was. But the door opened only inside so I knocked myself on my ass and as I was standing up to finally and properly storm out of the storm I noticed a piece of paper under the vending machine. A fucking dollar bill was just lying there. I picked it up. It had a writing on it 'fuck you', well fuck you to, whoever wrote this, I got your dollar. I bought what I needed and headed home. I tried it on, it fit perfectly, like a nice tie. I kicked the stool from under me. The noose tightened around my neck. I felt the sweet arms of death wrapping around my body. Finally all of this would be gone. Then the rope broke, cheap shit broke and my nearly dead body hit the wooden floor. Then I saw the rope had a little tag on it 'should have called'.",
"I've always wanted to be rich. I must have prayed to every god there is. Whenever a clock hit identical numbers, like 23:23:23, I wished for money. Any jinx, superstition, lotto - whatever. I wished to be rich beyond reason. In truth, I did everything, but work hard for it. \n\nOne evening, I was walking home from a job I hated. There was a boy on the street, standing between the rush hour crowd ahead of me. He was staring right at me. It's as if nobody else was there. Nobody walked into him nor did they acknowledge him. A sense of primal fear filled every bit of my existence. He started to walk towards me. The hairs in the back of my head stood up and a wave of shivers shot through me. I was frozen in place. I blinked and the boy was standing right in front of me. I couldn't move nor talk. \n\n\"You've been making a lot of calls,\" he spoke in a smooth calm voice, almost whispering. The street noise around was almost muted. I wanted to reply. I wanted to say that I don't understand, but I couldn't. \"You don't have to understand, but the calls you've made, have been heard.\" The boy smiled. A sinister smile. \"Speak to me, of your desire,\" he whispered. My mouth opened and words slipped from my lips - \"I desire enough money to last for the rest of my life.\" I didn't feel in control. Did I say that or did he make me? \n\nI blinked and the boy was gone. The noise of a busy street returned. I stood there for a while. Questioning myself. Was I going insane? Then I saw it on the pavement. A golden dollar coin. I crouched to pick it up and that's when the world ended. A flash in the sky. Then another one and another one. \"Nuclear annihilation!\" Not even a second had passed when someone yelled that out. I flipped the coin between my fingers and laughed - \"For the rest of my life.\" \n\nGuess I should have wished for world peace. "
] | 7
|
|
[WP] Fairytale characters post on reddit
|
[
"Legal Advice – Stepmother threw me out of the house. I went to live with 7 guys out in the middle of nowhere. I ate an apple that put me into a coma and then met a new guy and went to live with him. The seven guys I lived with said they are going to sue me for part of my inheritance (My step mother died recently) because they helped me when I was down. Can they really sue me for this? ",
"/r/Advice\n\nStepmom forced dad to put me and my sister out of the house. We've got nothing but a loaf of bread. What can I do legally? Where can I find a place to stay for a while? Can I get a job without a home adress?\n\nEdit : Thanks for the help, everyone, it feels good to see so many people coming together for some strangers on the internet\n\nEdit 2: Thanks for the help /u/Wicked_witch , we're on our way to your place!\n\nEdit 3 : OMG THANKS FOR THE GOLD, too bad it came at such a shitty time in my life. ",
"***To r/mechanics*** \nSo, I need some advice. I just fired a know-nothing, do-nothing fuckup pit crew and have a question. What's the best way to change a flat tire, in three seconds or less? Thanks. \n-- u/Lightning_McQueef\n\n***To r/polygamy*** \nLiving with seven men. PM me for pics. \n-- u/Snow_White_All_Over_7\n\n***To r/AskReddit*** \nAnyone Else Celebrating Father's Day With No Father? \n-- u/Simba97531\n\n***To r/footfetish*** \nPM me. \n-- u/CindersAndAshes\n\n***To r/TheRedPill*** \nAll guys need is a princess, amirite? Follow orders, do as they're told, dress how I want them to dress. Shouldn't be a battle all the time, should it? Fuck, the lengths I go to.... \n-- u/Jafar_The_Magnificent\n\n***To r/RaisedByNarcissists*** \nUgh. She keeps me *locked* in the damn tower *all the time!* I can't *talk* to anyone else, *visit* with anyone else, *see* anyone else...I didn't even know there was anything called \"The World\" until I was *five* and she had to explain what those damned *balloons* were flying in the sky every year! God! Anyone *else* go through this? \n-- u/KimJongUnzel\n\nYes. \n-- u/FionaLikesEmGreen\n\n***To r/Tinder*** \nWant to be the Queen to my Emirate? The Seraph of my Staff? PM me tonight. \n-- u/Jafar_The_Magnificent\n\n***To r/CasualAMA*** \nI keep telling you, there's no right species! Look, if you can have gender dimorphism, why not *species* dimorphism? If it's all right that it's OK that I can be a woman in a man's body, who are *you* to tell me I'm not a woman in a wolf's body? Huh? There's some double-standards shit right there, you know? \n-- u/BigBeautifulWolf\n\nBut my *grandmother?* \n-- u/RedHood555\n\nHey. HEY! Your grandmother is a lovely woman, and you should have no problem with our relationship. *She* accepts me for who I am, and she - yes, she *loves* to be eaten by me there I said it! \n-- u/BigBeautifulWolf\n\nOMGTMI! \n-- u/WoodChoppa"
] | 3
|
|
[WP] You have schizophrenia and you meet another person who has it. The voices in your heads claim to know each other.
|
[
"He won't shut up. I can't \"think\" a reply to him, I have to be verbal. He just Won't. Shut. Up. Over and over he tells me what to do, how to live, what things do. I know it's all wrong. No, I won't stab the neighbors cat because it's collaborating against me. No, I will not run over my Dad's dog because he's secretly Hitler. It's wrong, all wrong.\n\n\"The cat is staring again. Victor, you know what's right\" he whispers.\n\n\"Shut UP damnit\" I grunt to myself as I get off the bus. I got a stare from the old lady down the street again. She knows somethings not right.\n\n\"You need to remove that cat before it kills you, Victor\" he whispers.\n\n\"God damnit shut the fuck up\" I grunt through my teeth as I storm up the road to get home where I can scream him to silence.\n\nTwo corners, 5 houses, 300 meters. That's all I have left. I need to get home, I can't handle this anymore. Oh no, Sandra from next door is coming outside. I can't talk to her. I can't let her of all people see me like this. Smile through it, Vic. Smile through it.\n\n\"Hey, Vic!\" she shouts and waves at me. Oh no. No no no. She spotted me. Just wave back and smile. It will be alright. Just keep walking.\n\n\"Don't talk to her! Don't do it! Please don't do it Victor, I beg you. I tell you bad things all of the time, but do NOT talk to that woman, for the love of god it will be the end of me!\" he begins shouting, as if he was panicing.\n\nWait a minute... Was that voice just **panicing** about talking to her? Wait wait wait. That's not right. I've never heard him say anything louder then a whisper.\n\n\"Why?\" I mutter, as I slow down compared to my stomping force speed.\n\n\"Just don't do it! Please! I'll leave you alone for a full 24 hours, just don't talk to her!\" he pleads again. What's so special about her? Wait a minute, he said he'll leave me alone for 24 hours? Hot damn that's a great deal! I can get some sleep and play some games!\n\nI started to jog, making it look like I was busting for the toilet. As I get close to her she pauses, looks slightly down as if she was focusing on a sound, and looks back up to me with eyes wide open.\n\n\"Oh no\" he gasps. \"Don't tell me... She knows\" he panics further. I slow down as I get to Sandra.\n\n\"Hey, uhh, Vic\" she asks. She's nervous, but she pauses for a moment. \"What's up Sandy?\" I ask.\n\n\"Does the name 'Alistar' mean anything to you?\"\n\n\"FUCK!\" he shouts. It startles me and I flinch. \"Are you alright, Vic? I know it's a, uhm, weird question but... Somebody... Asked me to ask you\"\n\n\"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE ANSWER HER YOU SAD BASTARD! I WILL HAUNT YOU FOR ETERNITY IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING ANYTHING\" he starts screaming in my ear. It's hard to hear anything now. I've never once in my life experienced this. The voice inside my head is screaming. I need to know why. Before I get to ask anything, Sandra stops me.\n\nAlmost as if she's being told what to say, the look on her face as she tries to focus on what she has to repeat \"I know you're in there you sad, sadistic piece of work. You think you can run from me? I will always find you\" she says, with a look of pure bewilderment.\n\n\"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT I KNEW IT WAS HER!\" he shouts. I flinch again.\n\n\"Sandy, please tell me what's going on and why he's screaming in my ear\" I'm pleading with her. Wait a minute... Did I just... Say he was screaming in my ear? OH FUCK. Ok, think. Think you dopey shit, think. You just told her that someone that no one can see or hear is screaming in yo- is she smiling? Why is she smiling? Did I say something funny? Oh god... I'm a joke... She's going to laugh...\n\n\"You have one too...!\" she points at me and smiles. \"And she knows him as well!\" she's jittering with joy. She's smiling and jmping. Her brown hair bouncing around, locks vibrating with joy. Her blue eyes glassed over with tears, shining beautifully. She has a small dimple in her cheek, nothing major, only really noticeable when she's laughing.\n\nWhy am I noticing all of these now? She looks no different then normal, yet she does. Why does this all matter now? This isn't right. There are more concernin issues, and she's jumping around about the person I can hear? Wait, she has one too? Wait what?! She's Schitzophrenic as well?! No way. That's can't be happening.\n\n\"I'm going to murder you if you do not leave, NOW!\" he shouts. I can almost feel his anger from inside me head.\n\n\"Why, Alistar?\" I reply. Sandra stopped jumping and looked at me. \"Why do I have to leave Alistar? Why does she scare you Alistar? Do you know her? What's wrong Alistar? ARE YOU FINALLY AFRAID FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE?\" I begin screaming. \n\nSandra's smile got even bigger. \"It's true! It's true, it's true! Viccy it's alright, come with me!\" she shouts as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards her front door. \"Angela know's Alistar! She wants to talk to him!\"\n\n\"DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE! IT'S A FUCKING TRAP, VICTOR! PLEASE, DON'T DO THIS!\" shouts Alistar. I want to do this more then ever. Someone I can relate to. Someone who understands what it's like. I need to follow her.\n\nAs we go through the door, Sandra stops, turns to me, and hugs me. Everything went quiet. I've never felt such a still and quiet moment in my life. It felt amazing. She lets me go slowly, and looks at me. \"Why don't you tell him about Angela, Alistar\" she whispers. It's quiet again.\n\nHe lets out a sigh of disappointment. \"God fucking damnit\" he says. \"That's my wife\" Alistar says to me."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You discovered that an ice cream shop is having a "Make your own ice cream with any flavour you want". How do you proceed your order?
|
[
" It's been a really long day.\n\n Work sucked, my commute is an hour and a half each way, and I'm just tired all the time. Today I wanted to try something new on the way home, I deserve to spoil myself just this once since my finances are finally in check. \n\n Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. On the way home yesterday I saw a new ice cream place on a few blocks away from home. Not your usual franchise either, so maybe they'll serve more than those cheap fucks. It's hot as hell outside, so I couldn't wait to get there. \n\n As I walk through the door I can see that there is no one in line, thank god. They server greets me, \"Good Afternoon! We've got a special going on like no other! Today you can make your own ice cream with any flavor you want! Literally anything at all! You name it and we'll make it! What will it be?\"\n\n \"I'll just have some Vanilla in a Dixie cup\", I sheepishly reply.\n\n \"Sir I don't think you understand, you can have anything! Steak, Beer, Spare Ribs, Twizzlers, anything at all today!\"\n\n \"Yeah no that's cool and all, I just would like Vanilla.\"\n\n I notice that there's now someone behind me, they seem agitated. I try not to completely turn around due to my anxiety, but luckily the server has my order ready and I book it out of there. I finally taste a spoonful and you know what? It's pretty damn good. I have very plain tastes and I can't seem to grasp all of the different types of ice cream people like. There's nothing wrong with Vanilla, why mess with a good thing?\n\n As I've been contemplating society's wrong choices in my head, I have failed to notice that the guy from the shop is still a few steps behind me, and I've been walking for three blocks. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but he's breathing heavily and even in the city this stuff gets to me. I make an unnecessary loop around the block and he's still behind me. Fuck. I chuck my ice cream to the sidewalk and I just sprint. If he's really up to something I'm gonna know now.\n\n The second I pick up the pace the man lets out the most uncomfortable shriek I have ever heard in my life. As I turn my head to see what is wrong with this guy I see it. His eyes. They're fucking light green. Just who the hell is this guy? If I die right now who the hell is going to take care of my dog? Now he's running and catching up very, very quickly. \n\n \"Hey buddy, you might want to duck.\" Is the last thing I expected to hear.\n\n As I've been looking at this freakishly grotesque menace behind me, I failed to pay attention to a figure in front of me. This woman with long blonde hair and the most cliche trench coat I've ever seen is holding a pistol. I dive forward as I hear the pop. Guess which clumsy idiot hit his head on the way down?\n\n When I wake up, there's a crowd of 5 or 6 people around me. They say I just was walking down the street and tripped. There's no way that's true, but I know it's better to act normal than attract any unwanted attention.\n\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You begin to suspect, after a string of unusual occurrences, that your roommate has the power to control time.
|
[
"Tulsa ain't a big town for sublets. Go on Tulsa craigslist, it's a fucking ghost town. People don't come to Tulsa for a little while. If you're here, you're stuck here and a twelve month lease will suit you just fine. So, honestly, the first thing that was weird with Sally was how she was looking to sublet in the first place. But I had the extra room and I needed the money and she seemed forthright enough, so I said fuck it and let her move in.\n\nNow I have a hard time explaining why this is so, but if you ask me if Sally was a good roommate or not, I'll say I truly don't know. I don't mean there's a mixed bag of evidence and I just can't decide which side of the line she falls on. I mean that when I ponder this question, I have all the feelings of seething frustration you have for an inconsiderate, asshole roommate, yet I have literally not one concrete memory of Sally being anything but perfectly polite and easy going.\n\nAnd what's even worse is I remember me being a total bitch to her! I'd get mad as hell and yell at her from time to time, but I'd just be completely, factually in the wrong about everyting. Take this one time: I start going off on her for having a coke binge in the living room, inviting over some real seedy Peoria types and blasting music til three in the morning. I'm shouting and waving my hands, telling her to look at this mess. Look at this fucking mess you made of my house! Next thing I know, I look around and everything is perfectly clean and tidy. I felt like I was going schizo or something. I'd apologize to her profusely and end up making her some tea or something. \n\nNow Sally didn't seem to have a job, but she always had lots of money. Always these thick stacks of crisp bills. For a while I figured it was drug deals, but frankly she didn't seem ambitious enough to hustle. Basically, she'd party all night and then sit around playing video games all day. She was fucking incredible at video games. Sometimes it seemed like she could beat a whole game in fifteen minutes. Eventually I asked her how she had so much cash all the time. She said she won it all down at the Cherokee Casino. She said she always just had a feeling about which cards were coming next. I told her I was jealous she could just live on her own terms like that.\n\nIt was probably about two months in when I found her crying on the bathroom floor. I asked her what the matter was. All she said was she'd been having a lot of long days recently. She said it sometimes felt like she was living whole days in between each tick of the second hand and how that was a lonely way to be. I told her there ain't a woman in Tulsa who don't know that feeling. She laughed and we held hands for a minute. Maybe longer.\n\nThen one day she just up and left. She slipped three months rent under my bedroom door and, before I could count it, her and all her stuff were gone. There was a note with the money toò. It said she'd miss me. It said she felt like we'd shared a hundred years of memories together.",
"Two years ago I met a wonderful woman, her name was Jessica, who was going to guess we would end up living together? She was looking for a roommate and so was I, living is cheaper when we can divide the costs and we needed to save as much money as we could, university is not cheap and two part-time employees can only make so much money.\n\nWe found a nice but small apartment in the center of the town. It had this \"grandma's house\" feeling so few places have and we immediately fell in love with it. A small white living room waited for us at the entrance, right next to it there was a dining room, there was no division between these two rooms and the wall remained the same color. The kitchen was behind the dining room, to the right, its walls were all covered in medium sized blue tiles, I swear they were the same tiles my grandma's house has. To the left there was a narrow and short corridor that connected the kitchen with the bathroom and the only bedroom this apartment had.\n\nSince this was the only apartment we could afford, we decided that sharing the double bed in the only bedroom it had was not going to be a big deal, I doubt anyone would think that two girls sharing the same room were anything more than friends but getting those weird looks when going outside always made me feel embarrassed.\n\nTwo years later we are still living in the same place, I am doing great at my psychology class, Jessica not so much at her history class, she's been like this for the last 4 months. There is some unusual behavior about her that worries me, she frequently leaves the house at night thinking I can't hear her. I can feel when she leaves the bed every single time, it is always a rough movement. My worries about her go beyond her daily disappearances, I am worried about her future, our future. This is something I haven't confessed to her yet, after almost an year of denial I ended up accepting that I fell in love with her, it is not easy to accept this, what would mom think? She has always wanted grandchildren but my love for Jessica is stronger than anything, I love feeling her soft skin each time she accidentally touches me while rolling over in bed. I love hearing her voice in the morning even if it is just a complaint about having to get up. I love every single thing about her.\n\nIt is night again and there she is, I never hear when she opens the door, I can only hear her footsteps when she walks to our bedroom. I am awake this time and ready to confess my love but as soon as I open my mouth she places her finger in front of it and asks me to remain in silence. \"I know\", she tells me, \"I know everything\". This is when my suspicions begun and soon everything was clearer than crystal. How would she always guess the results of my exams? How else would she be able to predict the days my mom was going to call? What other thing would cause her to disappear in the middle of night and come back without having to open the door? It was clear that this girl had the power to control time, to stop it, to travel through it. Or was I going crazy?\n\nI had so many questions that night that I would like to know the answer to but I was so tired that I feel asleep right after she kissed me, I can't even remember how our first kiss felt. Right now I am exploring my own dream, I am an oneironaut and I love being one. I am in Jessica's body the day we met, the day we decided to live together.\n\nAfter visiting so many different places, Mary seems to have fallen in love with this little apartment and since it is the only one we can afford we decided to move here. I have been in love with Mary since the day we met but I have seen the future and I know that my best option is to wait two years, to that day she discovers my big secret while confessing me her love. I have been trapped in this dream for a month now, it's been so long that I am beginning to suspect it is not a dream anymore, I wonder if I am going to be Jessica forever, I worry about not being able to be Mary again. Two more years, I tell to myself, two more years to know the answer. \"Wake up\", says a distant voice, \"do you want to get out of the time loop? I can help you, you just have to wake up\".\n\n- - -\n\nI am still learning to write, critics are appreciated. I am also learning English, help about using the English language is also appreciated.",
"\"Suspicious\" was one way to describe my roommate, Dee. \"Odd\", \"Peculiar\", \"Off-putting\" and even \"Maniacal\" were also good words. He was always mumbling to himself, something about the world, power and what not. I don't know, I think he needs to see a therapist or something.\n\nWhat really made Dee odd, was the things that happened when he was around. Things seemed to \"skip\" randomly. It felt like a few seconds would just disappear out of nowhere. Just now, he was cleaning the dishes, I looked away for all of a second, and then he was way farther along than he should. Not a whole lot, he was finished with a pot he just started, but it felt like he was just a few seconds ahead. I always thought it was me, but it never seems to happen if I am not around Dee. What the hell could it be?\n\n\"Joe...\"\n\n\"Oh-... what's up Dee?\"\n\n\"There's been something I have been wanting to try for some time now...\"\n\n*Oh great.*\n\n\"And what would that be?\"\n\n\"Something truly fantastic. Something unbelievable. Something bizarre.\"\n\n\"Uh... Dee? What is wrong with you?\"\n\n\"Nothing Joe. Nothing is wrong with me. But something is wrong with...\"\n\n\"With what?\"\n\n\"**THE WORLD!!!**\"\n---\n\nI felt a strange sensation in my chest in that instant. Like, a thousand needles with poking into my chest. I could feel something warm and wet on my chest. My eyesight was dimming and my head started to spin. I looked down to see what happened.\n\n[\"OH GOD WHERE DID ALL OF THESE KNIVES COME FROM!?\"](http://66.media.tumblr.com/2aa5d383811aaaf71479fccc4c6e3de0/tumblr_nhpjwdJHjB1ra81amo4_400.gif)\n\n---\n\nThis is, of course, a thinly veiled reference to Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. It's well past 1am and I am very tired. I'm sure this is awful but was fun to write. Cheers!",
"The third worst thing about eating tacos is when the shell splits in half because there's too much meat inside. The second worst thing is when you bite into your taco, and the meat juices start to dribble down the side of your hand. The worst thing, though, is when you're about to bite into your perfectly handcrafted taco, and it vanishes midway into your mouth.\n\n\"Look, Aiden, we need to talk.\" I walked into our living room just in time to see him wipe traces of liquid from his lips—liquid that suspiciously resembled meat juice.\n\nHe leaned back on the couch and swallowed. I hoped his esophagus was in the process of being shredded by insufficiently chewed fragments of taco shells. \"What's up, Grant?\"\n\n\"I've been noticing that food tends to disappear from my plate, as well as from my hand, when you're around.\"\n\n\"Disappear? As in, disappear into your stomach?\" Aiden refused to look at me; his face was glued to the television.\n\n\"You also seem to finish all your assignments in the hour before they're due.\"\n\n\"Doesn't everyone, though?\" Aiden began shoving popcorn into his mouth from a bowl that I'm pretty sure hadn't been here before.\n\n\"Finally, on multiple occasions, I've found myself with my pants around my ankles, when they were secured firmly around my waist a second before.\" I placed my hands on my hips to check that my pants were indeed still there.\n\n\"Do you need a belt? You can borrow one of mine.\"\n\nTo think that such a clown would end up being gifted with superpowers. \"Quit playing, Aiden,\" I said crossly, \"I know you're stopping time and pulling all these stunts while the world is frozen.\"\n\nAiden finally turned away from the television. \"Are you okay, Grant? Do you need to lie down? Is everything alright in there?\" He got up and waved his hand in front of my face. \"Of all the possible, infinitely more reasonable explanations you could have come up with, you go with 'Aiden must be a timelord pulling pranks on me'?\"\n\n\"Well, for one,\" I said, smacking his hand away, \"we've been receiving letters from 'The Time Police'.\" Of course, every time I tried to open those letters, they would disappear from my hands.\n\n\"Never heard of them.\" Aiden flopped back onto the couch.\n\n\"There's also a giant glowing clock in your bedroom.\"\n\n\"It's just a clock, dude.\" He turned back to his movie.\n\n\"Well, if you don't mind,\" I said, walking past him, \"I'm going to get rid of your clock, since it's just that.\"\n\n\"Don't be a clockblock, man,\" he called after me.\n\nUnsurprisingly, when I opened his bedroom door, the clock was nowhere to be seen. He'd probably stopped time to hide it somewhere. Maybe I shouldn't have tipped him off and just went and done it myself later, but fuck if Aiden wasn't the type of guy to piss you off into making poor decisions.\n\nAs I turned to leave his room, I stumbled and fell face-first onto the floor. My pants had mysteriously wrapped themselves around my ankles again."
] | 4
|
|
[WP] Invoke an emotion in the reader, whether it be laughter, tears, or rage - make me feel something.
|
[
"That was his first feeling. Pure, unadulturated, it was unidentifiable at first. Bitter and hard, yet burning like Sol's light in the early days. Having lived all his life as a drone, there was no word he could put to this... this... uncontrollable stone flame. Steadfast, yet moving quicker than the blast wave from the nuclear weapons that had doomed his people to this shadow life - drones, under the control of this ancient construct. A construct with no feeling, with no sympathy, with no logic. The demons bound within it had no understanding of human suffering - only destruction.\n\nThe first humanoid drones had come, dismembered his family, taken them - broken them - and rebuilt them. Rebuilt them as nauseating eidolons of tortured flesh, disgusting and utterly foreign. Their organs visibly pulsated on the slick crimson surfaces of their bloated frames as they cried out to him with their voices in unison. The memory of the words was lost to him, but the sound of their voices... oh, the sound of their voices... a chorus of rusty nails, broken glass, and tormented souls.\n\nThey caught up with him, and he met the same fate as they did. Becoming a shell of flesh, blood, and metal; all so that the twisted thing could use him for its sick purposes. He watched every harrowing atrocity committed upon his innocent flesh - watched in horror and agony as he was torn apart and put back together again.\n\nThat feeling again, that feeling breaking through, he knew it now. It was... rage.\n\nAnd with the rage came the memory of the words lost in the eidolons' screech: it was... \"Daddy.\"",
"The line was long, it didn't wind or wine or waver, just waited. From time to time you'd take a step. There were no real landmarks, nothing to gauge progress, bar the memory of the last step you took. It was seconds ago, or minutes, not hours though, I'm pretty sure anyway. \n\nThe people around you never changed, word would sometimes come from in front and you had to pass a message along. Things like, \"There has been a delay\" or \"Someones collapsed\". It wasn't really ever good news, you come to realise that after a few. Everyone in front and behind talks to each other now and then. You don't get to pick who is around you and Sally natters about her dog. She talks about the shows they won, the combing and the dietary needs of her prize pooch. It takes a lot not to shout shut up at first, but after a while of standing in a line her chatter is welcome background noise. Anything to break up the endless vista of pure white clouds you chuckle to yourself.\n\nTom, who is directly in front of you is nice. He talks about his kids and how he can't wait to see them again. You both agree that you have to meet up after you get to the front. There should be plenty of places to eat and have fun right?\n\nAndrew doesn't talk much, directly behind you he mutters to himself a lot. Mostly I'm sorry and forgive me, your curious why but asking seems a little rude. Besides you probably won't see him after your done here anyway. If he wants to share you are sure he will.\n\nThe line to heaven sure is long you can't help but think as you lean out and look forward. As far as you can see is people, all waiting in line. After that is light, blinding intense light. The Gates of Heaven? Makes sense right? That's where the line is heading.\n\nIt was a little frustrating, not being told anything. You had only learnt you weren't allowed to take a seat when everyone else around you prevented it. \"the person in front told me you can't\", I guess the message was sent before you here.\n\nAll in all it would be worth it to see them again, your family. You warmly remember the faces of those you lost and take a step forward towards them. It didn't matter how long you had to wait, the thought of seeing everyone again of enjoying being in their life was enough to sustain you for a million steps, no a billion! To laugh and joke and smile and just talk would be payment enough for any wait. Hell you had probably stood in longer lines for things like the bank or roller coasters at some point right?\n\nLaughing you can't help but smile at the thoughts that are running through your head. Tom turns and gives you a warm smile, a tear streaking down his cheek. Probably thinking the same thing as you. You both take a step forward towards a light so bright it's in your mind.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"How is the line?\"\n\n\"No problems, no one has figured anything out so no delay message needs to be sent\"\n\nThe two angels looked at the line that looped around the pure white orb, bright lights prevented them from seeing its curve. The line linking from front to back making a hoop on the small planet.\n\n\"Additions to the line running smoothly?\"\n\n\"Yeah we just have them remember the last step, no one questions the instructions we gave millennia ago. No one sits, or yells, no one fights or gets out of the line. Anyone who tries is stopped by others who were told by those before them.\"\n\n\"They don't even know why? after hundreds of years of queuing their legs must be in terrible pain\"\n\n\"I think most are in denial, they start muttering to cope.\"\n\n\"Purgatory really is a terrible place huh?\"\n\n\"Yahweh knows what Hell is like\"\n\nThe two angels nod and shudder in unison.",
"It was at 3.17am exactly when it happened. I remember because it woke me up. I was laying in an truly awkward position and was able to glance the time on the bedside clock. I tried to move but my entire body was just a dead weight. I only found this out when I tried to get myself into a more comfortable position, but I was unable to do so.\n\nI tried moving. Nothing. I tried making a sound. Nothing. I tried anything to get the attention of my wife who was laying next to me. Sometimes she had a sleepless night and would go on her phone to pass the time until she felt sleepy again. She was awake and watching a video to help her relax, she could help me, but I found it impossible to make any sign to her.\n\nAt first I thought the breathing was coming from my wife, but I soon realised that it was coming from the bedroom door. it also sounded nothing like her. it was a harsh, dirty rasping of a sound and it sounded like it was getting closer. I could have have sworn I could hear the floorboards creaking as the breathing got louder.\n\nThe first thing I noticed was the eyes and soon saw that they were at the top of this huge, looming blackness. The eyes were red and emitting this low, pulsing glow. All I could feel from these eyes was a menacing glare that was directed right towards me. I looked up to my wife. She was oblivious to it. I looked back. the figure was gone.\n\nI looked back at my wife. It wasn't my wife. It was that, that thing. He stared at me. He knew I couldn't move, that I was powerless. He grinned, showing his yellow, rotting teeth. I closed my eyes, I screwed them tightly shut and, for the first time in my life, uttered a prayer. I felt this hot, heavy breathing on my face. A pure stench of death overpowering me. I heard it talk. It said two words. \"You're mine.\" I felt this huge pressure push down hard on me. I couldn't breathe.\n\nAnd then it was morning. My eyes opened, it was back to normal. I felt a huge sense of relief as I could move again and I sat up in bed and looked to my wife. She was crying and on her phone. I moved to comfort her and she started to speak \"Hello, ambulance. I need you to come over immediately. I think my husband's dead.\"",
"He told me he loved me. I told him he’d get sick of me. But he said that that wasn’t possible.\n\n\nOne morning he woke me up by kissing my forehead. He said he had been watching me sleep for a bit and that he thought I was beautiful. My initial reaction was disbelief, that someone could feel that way about me. I thought things like that only happened to the movie’s protagonist, not the unimportant supporting role.\n\n\nOne time I was crying over nothing. I was crying because I was anxious and insecure and didn’t find joy in anything and didn’t belong. I was crying because it felt like the only thing I knew how to do, and I was crying because I wanted to die or disappear so badly, but much more than that I wanted someone to hear me crying and come save me. And then he heard me and then he came and saved me. And no one had ever done that before.\n\n\nOne evening we went out to dinner and he told me that I taught him how to smile again. He said that his life hadn’t always been good, and that he had experienced problems in family, love, and drugs. He said that ever since we’ve been together, he’s started smiling in pictures again. He has the best smile I’ve ever seen.\n\n\nOne night I got too drunk and I was mean to him. I knew all his deepest fears and insecurities and I used them against him. I yelled at him as loud as I could and when he tried to hold me I scratched his neck. In the morning, he brought me water and food and an extra blanket. He asked me why I was so mean to him. I told him that I didn’t know.\n\n\nI am the taker and he is the savior. And every day he looks more tired and every day he smiles less. My mental illness is his cage.\n\n\nHe told me he loved me. I told him he’d get sick of me. But he said that that wasn’t possible.\n",
"Mia winced as she watched the toddler in the pew in front of her struggle to remain seated and quiet. Nobody in their right minds would have brought this one to a funeral. It seemed obvious that his sitter must have backed out at the last minute, and now his poor granny was desperately attempting to cope. His energy was of the tightly-coiled, barely-contained, and likely-explode-at-any-minute variety, and his very dignified grandmother's attempts at containing his behavior were growing more futile by the second. Mia noticed that he was quite retaliatory. If Granny seated him firmly back down on the pew, he surreptitiously fished more gum or mints from her very expensive handbag. If she glared at him, he furtively and noiselessly crayoned the side of said handbag, thoroughly enough so that Mia knew the dark color he'd chosen was unlikely ever to really come out. The child was kneeling and facing backward now, so that his spiky, bright-red hair and green eyes were directly in Mia's field of vision. He crossed his eyes and thrust his finger up his nose, digging energetically, then smiled engagingly. Mia focused determinedly on the funeral service, vaguely hearing the words \"a true pillar of the community, whose contributions to all our lives were immeasurable. . .\" but it was like listening to a radio in another room. \"Jeffrey!\" hissed Granny, reaching out to pinch Jeffrey and position him once again facing forward. Mia watched Jeffrey stiffen for a few seconds, and then he begin to kick the pew in front of him. He rolled back the paper on the package of mints and ominously crammed several more into his already drooling mouth. He was angry now, and Mia had a certain sense of foreboding, but couldn't have imagined what would come next. Jeffrey opened Granny's luxe handbag as wide as it could go. Then, suddenly, he stood rigidly right up on the pew and vomited explosively right into the bag. Spray from this volcanic eruption hit Granny, Mia, several more people sitting nearby, the carpeting, the upholstered pew cushion. . .thick, vile-smelling liquid was everywhere. Small chunks of mostly-chewed candy speckled every surface within Jeffrey's considerable range. Stunned silence prevailed. Mia grabbed her own rather worn, ordinary purse and staggered down the aisle, grateful to emerge into the sunlight, even though the heat was easily over a hundred degrees. She wouldn't be going to any interment, all she wanted was to find a garden hose and wash herself off. ",
"Being the daugher of an alcoholic, you feel like in your short life that you known every bit of meanness that this world has to offer. Suddenly, you turn 11 and everything changes. At 11 I became a woman, and in more than the usual ways. I got my period, my breasts, and the realization of the deadliness of innocence all in one year. \n\nComing in from the annual Goat Cook-off, in nowheres-ville Texas, my whole family was sitting in the living room. I scan the room to see who all is going to be annoying me that night. My mother who is cautious, but usually to drunk and stoned to notice the fact that her daughter was dressed like a whore, is sitting to my left. Then my father, who can't help but put his hands on my mother when he is drinking, sits next to her. My cousin, who is so lost in his own misery that he turns to drugs and drink to just breathe, sits directly in front of me. Finally as im finishing my scan I see someone new. A younger guy, whos face was bare but was deemed old enough to drink with the adults, instead of stealing the alcohol from the adults with us kids. My cousin introduced him as Scotty. \n\n\"It's nice to meet you\" he says as he tries not to look at me. \"Yea, ok.\" I say to him and turn back to my mother, \"I'm going to go to my room\". She ignored me like always but I really didn't care. I was too busy thinking about the great day I had at the cookoff. I had recieved my first kiss, and was in heaven.\n\nA few hours later mom announced that the adults were going to go outside for a bit. \"Probably to get stoned\" I thought to myself. As I heard everyone go through the backdoor that closed with a SLAM, I proceed to go enjoy the living room alone. The only problem with this plan is that the new guy is still sitting in the living room, but he is asleep so I go ahead and turn on the TV.\n\nI'm watching something on MTV when I realize that Scotty was awake. \"The other adults went outside for a bit, I'm pretty sure that they are in the backyard\", I say trying to just get rid of him. \"Oh, ok do you mind if I just hang out in here for a bit?\" Scotty asked, as if I were in a position to tell him no. \"Sure, but I'm not changing the TV.\" I say in protest. I don't realize until the end of my statement that he had moved closer to me, too close.\n\nBefore I know it his hand is on my thigh. I try to move away, but he follows. \"Haven't you ever been loved before?\" he asks me. \"Yea, by my family.\" I say innocently. \"That's not exactly what I mean. I'm asking if any man has ever had sex with you, not like it matters, because it doesn't count till you're 18.\" \"No, and I do not think that it is a good idea\" I say even though I naively think that it could be ok if it doesn't count yet. So I let him have his way.\n\nAs I lay there letting him take advantage of me, I decide that I want to back out. \"I'm only 11 and I'm not ready for this!\" I try to scream, but he has my mouth muffled as he is having his way. When I scream because he rips my virginity from me, nobody hears. \n\nAfter he is done; he gets up off of my limp, tormented body. He cleans himself off and leaves to join the adults. I lay there and cry. I go clean myself up and go to bed. The next morning I tried to tell my parents what happened, but once again my cries were layed upon deaf ears. I decided to never tell anyone; because if the people standing ten yards away from it would not believe me, then why ever say it again?",
"Casually he tied the leash to the fence-pole before heading into Starbucks. Careless of the dog’s affections, he left the her outside to get his daily caffeine fix.\n\nAnxiety grew in the hound with every steaming breath, with every opening of the door. Was he coming to get her? Was it her human?\n\nBut it wasn’t. Pensively, compulsively, over and over, she sniffed, hoping to catch his scent. Time and time again, it wasn’t him. Minutes that felt like a lifetime passed while she stared plaintively in the window at the humans talking at their tables, typing at their clickety-clack machines, doing everything save coming to get her. None of them were her human.\n\nSo she waited. Cars went by unacknowledged and she waited, pacing back and forth to keep warm. She waited until his scent came out the door and then her breath finally quickened in excitement.\n\nHe was back! Her human had returned! She gamboled towards him in a moment of pure joy until her collar bit into her neck.\n\nHe sighed contentedly as he took a sip of his coffee. Casually, carelessly he untied her leash and they went home.",
"When I rushed around the corner, my first emotion was excitement. The garage door was open, which meant he was accepting interruptions to his work.\n\n*Thwack, thwack, thwack.*\n\nI stood in the entryway, looking up into that familiar, strong, reliable face. How often now had I rushed home from the bus stop just to see what new project he was working on?\n\n*Thwack, thwack, thwack.*\n\nI took a tentative step forward into the enclosed space, confused and slightly worried. It had been several years since he had last towered over me. Partially to blame was my recent growth spurt, but partially too the accident. I could see his empty wheelchair in the periphery of my vision, the small decorative flag on the back flapping weakly in the gentle breeze.\n\n*Thwack, thwack, thwack.*\n\nI took another step forward, before slipping on the wet, greasy concrete and falling onto my face. I remained there as more droplets plopped down from above, mixing into the crimson puddle my hand lay in.\n\n*Thwack, thwack, thwack.*\n\nI tried to shakily stand up, but my gelatinous knees betrayed me, and I stumbled again. I managed to twist before I landed, rolling over onto my back, looking up. Putting together the pieces in a numb malaise, recognizing the chain from my bicycle, which he had been working on fixing in his slow, trembling, yet somehow steady and insistent manner. The loop it made around the rafter, the teeth sawing into both wood and flesh with each pendulumic sway.\n\n*Thwack, thwack, thwack.*\n\nScarlet raindrops, thrice against my cheek, broke my paralysis.\n\n*Thwack, thwack, thwack.*\n\n\"Dad?\"",
"Please be gentle- my first post to WP\n\n\"Where soared his sense?\" I cry;\nA fruitful mind found it could fly. \nIn thought so deep, his path confined;\nA brain so taught- could it unwind?\nDrained of energy, no motive to progress. \nCan I see him still? In such light I digress...\nHis heart bares sound cartography,\nLo, his emotions- no seismography. \nAssumptions with weak links\nTo the obscene suggestions which he thinks. \n\nMust it be he, at this purposeful time?\nIs this the fee, indemnifying unspeakable crime?\nCondemned, bound by delusion,\nIn a world of boundless confusion. \nIs my hope in resurrection a-fray?\nSome possibility of redirection? Nay?\nShould he awaken- to see the light of day,\nIt would be worth all the turns of the moon\nThat keep the sun at bay. \n\n\n\n",
"The chilly autumn wind was making leaves dance in pirouettes around him. He saw her tucking her coat tightly around her body as she walked besides him. Her small backpack was decorated with various stickers proclaiming the different causes she was fighting for. Her hair was kept in a loose braid at her upper back, and though her eyes seemed to be tearing from the strong wind he could never be quite sure when it came to her. Since they met she had always been the most beautiful soul he knew. Selflessly giving, creative, and artistic, he was sure she would grow up to be someone amazing. Way out of his league, way out of the league of anyone in their little town.\n\nHe had never been a very popular guy, and never truly excelled at anything. He would like to blame that on not trying, but the fact was he kept getting distracted by his own mind. He never found the drive to truly apply himself, and never found the courage to try. Life seemed to him a complex and chaotic mess, full of unwanted surprises and tragedy. This had changed when she started at their college, and he was instantly infatuated with her. Before he had gotten to know her he was in love with the idea of being in love with her. As time passed and their forced proximity caused them to get to know each other, a friendship blossomed, and he was in love with her for who she was. It broke his soul to pieces realizing she could not see herself the way he saw her, but she accepted him as a friend, and that would have to do.\n\nHe had started to apply himself now, in all the subject she showed interest for. He let her fill his mind and his soul with all of her passions, and relentlessly sought to excel at them. It felt like the emptiness inside of him had been filled, and it was her spirit doing the internal decoration and structuring of his soul. Another cold gust of wind blew straight towards them, chilling their ears as they slowly progressed along their route. He felt that there were thousands of things he wanted to say, but the words never felt grand enough. How could he possibly explain this connection he felt without sounding like an infatuated teenage boy? Would it even be right to make it sound any different? He frowned and looked down at the cracked asphalt road.\n\nShe looked over at her companion. He had been such a great help for her when she started college in this town, and she had welcomed the friendship. She noticed the familiar frown he carried when he let his mind wander, as he so often did. She smiled at the thought, but realizing the complexities it entailed soon made the smile fade away. She was concerned for the boy and the damage his interest could do to him. Life had taught her that it could be random and cruel, and that people around her had a tendency to get their hearts broken. She had felt too disconnected to feel anything resembling love for as long as she could remember. Her own passions and causes were her way of attempting to feel something. Her way of attempting to shine a light on the darkness surrounding her. She never wanted to drag another soul into that mess, and the fervor with which he sought to embrace it truly scared her. She thought to herself that she might soon have to push him away, before the damage would be irreversible. It would hurt, but it would be better for both of them in the long run. Maybe he could find someone less broken. ",
"Sometime after he left she wrote a seven page letter and put it under her bed, taking it out periodically throughout the coming days and reading it again and again as though it would bring out some understanding of what had happened. He'd left without so much as a word, without telling her that it wasn't working out or that he had to go or that it wasn't her fault. She naturally assumed that all those things were true, and so in the days following his leaving she kept the letter beneath her bed and she read it once a day, twice a day, every few hours until she couldn't stand the masochistic knee-jerk reaction of tears that came from reading, and she stashed it away. \n\nTwo months later she heard from him again. He wrote her an email apologizing for what he had done and for leaving. She left work and went home to sob, sitting on her bed and bending over until her stomach hurt and she felt empty and unlovable and *what had she done* and *why had this happened*. \n\nShe wrote him back. He didn't respond for another two months. Then again. Then again. She grew distant. The didn't know why she cared. The words that she had written in her diary the day he left, *je t'aimais, je t'aime, je t'aimerai*^* began to lose some of their feeling. \n\nBut there was always that. The sliver in the middle of the night that woke her when she felt empty. The literal pain in her heart that logically made no sense. The creeping wonders if in those nights when he had whispered that he loved her had he meant it, had it been real, had any of it been real. \n\nShe wrote in her letter to him that she loved him. Three times, their tradition. *I love you, I love you, I love you. And a piece of me will always, always, always be yours.* \n\nThe day she threw the letter away she wondered if it was still true. If that love had ever been real or just something that existed in a moment. She wondered if one day he had seen her for the person she feared herself to be. \n\nIn the end, she asked him to stop sending emails. They hurt too much. \n\nThat night she thought of how he had abandoned her, and the place in her heart ached even though a whole year had gone by. She thought of the email that she had sent merely hours ago.\n\nShe wondered if he thought she had abandoned him, too. \n\n---\n\n* I loved you, I love you, I will love you ",
"Both of them knew it. I mean, he hadn't uttered a single word or syllable thus far, and he was approaching three years. The appointment only confirmed what James and Abby already knew, their son was on the autistic spectrum. \n\nThankfully, early intervention was kind towards Nathan and his parents. He began to speak, interactions with other youths were positive, and it seemed like progress was being made everyday. It now seemed that Nathan only had a slight bend towards autistic behaviors, seemingly unnoticeable to the untrained individual.\n\nAlthough, progress can be deceiving. Nathan quickly learned throughout the years that acting was his ticket to normalcy. This mimicking wasn't the true Nathan. These behaviors did not originate organically...yet it appeased his teachers, created pseudo-friendships, and most of all, made his parents happy. \n\nWhat was once a deficit became an area of mastery. When peers were playing video games, Nathan was studying TV shows, movies, and stand up comedy. What better way to learn social skills than from the best? Eventually, a new persona was born. \n\nNathan called him Nathaniel. Nathan was bleak, dull, and generally void of emotion. Nathaniel was witty, inviting, and charming. \n\nNathaniel cruised through High School. He dated the hottest cheerleader, unsurprisingly excelled at theater, and aced all his classes. His popularity was through the roof.\n\nAt what point does the actor become the true identity? Was Nathan actually creating an entire different persona? Or was he simply emphasizing certain characteristics that were already innate? Was he the jack of all trades, or the master of none? \n\nThese questions were easily answered at the end of each and every day, when Nathaniel gave way to Nathan. It was all fake, the smiles, the jokes, the enjoyment, everything. None of these yielded authentic feelings. No intrinsic validation was gleaned from wearing a mask of social skills. Nathan realized genuine happiness, or any true feeling, must be generated from a genuine interaction. \n\nNathan sat in his room, troubled by this dilemma when a knock came at his door. James poked his head in the door and said: \"It's dinner time, Champ.\"\n\n\"Not hungry.\"\n\n\"What's wrong, Nathan?\" \n\n\"Dad...I need to...feel. I don't know. I just need to know the true me isn't...gone. Whether it be laughter, tears, or rage, how do I make myself feel *something*?\"\n\nIt was the first time in years that Nathan wasn't being Nathaniel, and James realized it instantly. So, with tears in his eyes, James embraced his son. \n\nMaybe it was the uncertainty of honesty, perhaps it was the overwhelming acceptance of his father, or it could've been the nakedness that comes with bearing one's unaltered personality. Either way, Nathan felt something that day. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"There once was a man named Jin, and the day his daughter was born was the happiest day in his life. The day he brought her home was the second saddest day in his life.\n\nJin insisted that they needed to buy some soju and celebrate the birth of their Seonsil, but Inyung, who was far too tired and exhausted from the pains of childbirth, insisted that they just go straight home from the hospital. Jin ignored the nagging of his wife and drove to the liquor store anyway. There, he bought the best soju that money could buy. Jin didn't really like to drink, but Inyung always loved a good bottle of soju. And it *had* been nine months since Inyung had tasted even a sip of her favorite drink. When Inyung saw the $300 bottle of Cham Soju gift-wrapped in Jin's ecstatic arms, she couldn't help but relent, and a smile worked its way onto her face. There was nothing she loved more in this world than Cham Soju, but Jin could never fathom why. The stuff tasted like shoe polish to him. But he spent every last dollar in his pocket to buy some because he loved Inyung so much, and she certainly deserved a good drink after 14 hours of pushing a baby through her birth canal.\n\nThey were almost home when it happened. Five minutes more and they would have never been hit by that drunk truck driver. It happened all so fast. All of a sudden horns were blaring in their ears. A pair of blinding headlights blazed towards them faster than Jin could swerve to move out of the way. The last thing Jin could remember was the way it rained shattered glass on him and his family. \n\nWhen he awoke, the car was upside down, its wheels still turning. Shards of glass jutted out from his arms and chest, but he was alive. But he wished he had died when he looked over to the passenger seat. A jagged spike of metal had pierced through the demolished windshield and into Inyung's throat. She was still gagging on her own blood when Jin came to. He cried out her name. \"INYUNG!\" he roared. \"INYUNG!\" \n\nHer eyes glanced over towards him as she clutched onto the metal spike that jutted through her neck and came out the other side. There was so much blood. More blood than Jin had ever seen before in his life. It ran down her arms in rivulets. It trailed down on the metal spike that pierced her throat and dripped down on to the roof of the overturned car. Inyung gagged such ungodly noises. Jin didn't know what to do. And so he just looked on in horror as he watched his beloved Inyung pass from this world. They had loved one another their entire lives, and they had sworn they would love one another until they were old and gray. \n\nInyung's 27th birthday would have been next Friday.\n\nBy the time the sirens were wailing in Jin's ears, Inyung's body was already cold. It wasn't until his daughter began crying in the backseat that he remembered she was still in the car. Immediately, Jin unbuckled his seatbelt and banged his head against the shattered metal roof of his Hyundai Genesis. He crawled to his newborn Seonsil, miraculously unharmed in the crash. And he swore. Jin swore that he would never let any harm come to so much as a single strand of hair on her precious little head. \n\nIronically, the truck driver was drunk on Soju.\n\nSixteen years pass by, and Jin never takes another wife. He never even goes on another date with another girl. He stays true to the memory of his beloved Inyung and raises Seonsil all by himself. She was all he had left now, and she was the light of his world. Jin went to extraordinary lengths to ensure her safety, which of course was very exasperating for the young Seonsil growing up. Jin never let Seonsil go anywhere without his direct supervision. He dropped her off at school every morning, and he picked her up every night. He never let his daughter take the bus, and he never let her out of sight. Even if she were to go to the movies with her friends, Jin would be sitting there in the row behind them, making sure nothing happened to his precious Seonsil. This infuriated Seonsil to no end, and even her friends thought that her father was far too overprotective of her. \n\nEvery year at Danwon High School in Ansan, the junior class would take a field trip to Jeju Island, the Hawaii of South Korea. Seonsil desperately wanted to go. All her friends were going, but her father refused to let her take so much as a single step onto that ferry boat. She screamed and she cried and she begged. For *once* in her life, Seonsil wanted to hang out with her friends like all the other kids. For *once* in her life, she wanted her dad to stop being such a dictator. It took weeks of pleading and sobbing, but finally, at long last, Jin relented. She had his permission to go.\n\nThen on the day of the trip to Jeju Island, April 16th, 2014, the MV Sewol capsized, and sank to the bottom of the ocean floor, taking 325 members of the Danwon High School's junior class with it. And Jin never saw Seonsil again."
] | 13
|
|
[WP] You're a scientist in a lab, your assistant just said "oops."
|
[
"“I just need to add another 0.1 mg. of this to the syringe and inject into…”\n\t“Oops.” interrupted my assistant. \n\tCold sweat erupted from my brow. My heart jumped into my throat. I whirl around as fast as I could. My mind raced. What could he have done? Did he release one of the viruses they were working with? Which one? Was this the end? All those years spent on my Ph.D only to succumb to the failings of a grad student? All those years developing my mind and aiming to help the greater good dashed in an instant? I could’ve spent that time getting laid. Oh, man I miss Linda’s glorious tits…\n\tUpon turning, my jaw dropped, my heart sank, and my knees wobbled. \n\t“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” cheered my friends and family. The broad smiles on their faces quickly vanished. My lab assistant staring in utter horror, hand still on the sock-covered doorknob. Even fucking Linda was there, eyes wide and mouth gaping. \n\t“I wish I was dead, oh God…” I mumbled as I fumbled my penis back into my pants and in my panic tossed the syringe. The syringe flew across the lab towards a filled test tube rack. The sound of glass shattering pierced the awkward silence. \n\t“Oops.” I said as everyone began collapsing to the ground. \n",
"I swallowed what little saliva was left in my dry mouth as I watched my colleague cross the room to the large metal lever – the lever that would change history. He was young for such a reputable scientist, in his mid-thirties, though he was still older than I was by several years. We had been chosen for this project because we were young blood, new to Oxford, and they had hoped that meant new ideas.\n\nOf course, we had no idea what we were stepping into at first. We knew we were studying particle acceleration – specifically, how to create a particle accelerator comparable to, say, the Large Hadron Collider, without having to carve out kilometers of land to do so. We were dumb kids, so we didn’t understand the implication – for our careers, for science, for society as a whole – of getting this right. \n\nWe had worked for years on it, throwing everything we had, everything we could, into it. Every spare hour, every vacation day, every weekend, we had spent in this lab, the two of us, running calculations and abstracting about energy sources. Even then, it was too much for us, too taxing on the mind. We needed help, but it didn’t seem likely we would get it – the university had sunk too much money into us to get the results they were getting. Still, we asked for it anyway, and when asking politely didn’t work, we resorted to begging.\n\nThe university decided to meet us halfway on getting us help. They would not, as we had begged, devote another scientist to the project – after all, another scientist meant another salary, another person to pay for all those overtime hours, and that wouldn’t do at all, given that they barely wanted to pay us. They would, however, ask for volunteers among the engineering undergraduates, offering extra credit or some similar incentive to get people to give up all those hours.\n\nWe ended up with Sarah, a nineteen year old girl from Liverpool with dyed black hair and *way* too many tattoos. Eloy, my colleague, was suspicious at first, but he came around when he saw the potential she brought to the table. She was a fresh set of eyes, and a damn good one, too – she had a unique way of looking at things, of abstracting and deconstructing in her mind, that Eloy and I both lacked. \n\nIt had been two years since she had joined, but with her help, the project went much quicker. We ended up finishing quite far in advance, and though part of me feared that meant the accelerator was hastily built, the rest of me knew that we had created something great, something that would revolutionize science as we know it today.\n\n“Are you ready, Adam?” Eloy asked, his thick French accent permeating throughout the room. A copper hand rested on the lever, with long, nimble fingers dancing along the screws I had painstakingly measured and applied. He was fidgeting, an act he only partook in when he was particularly nervous. I couldn’t blame him. He had been chosen to pull the lever that would change the world. \n\nI smiled, a large, fake grin that barely masked my anxiety spreading across my face. Normally, I would have had a witty retort to such a question, a joke about old clichés, but I couldn’t remember how any of them went. Probably for the best – there wasn’t time for them, anyway.\n\n“As I’ll ever be.” I said, shifting my vision from the lever to his face. I tried to look confident, to reassure the man with whom I had worked for years, but I know it didn’t work. There was too much at stake here. If it worked, we were heroes, champions of science and human ingenuity. If it failed, we were monsters, petty scientists who flew too close to the sun and shrieked as our wings melted. \n\nSarah clapsed her hand on my shoulder, looking past me so that she could look Eloy dead in the eye. In her thick, Liverpudlian accent, she uttered the three words that would change the world forever: “Pull the lever.”\n\nWith a loud metallic clunk, Eloy slammed the lever down, muttering a prayer in French under his breath as he did so. A vast humming began sounding from inside the accelerator as it powered on, and the metallic walls of the device began to take on a red-hot glow.\n\n“No...” I muttered, my mind racing too fast to think of anything else to say. The accelerator wasn’t supposed to heat up – anything that could generate heat was supposed to either be contained or kept far away from the device itself. Besides, the only thing that could burn hot enough to heat up the whole machine was the power source, and Sarah had made sure it was contained –\n\nI whipped my head around to look at the student. She had gone pale, the glow of the accelerator painting her milk-bottle skin in a violent red light. I crossed the room, grabbing her by the shirt as aggressively as I could the second she was within arm’s reach.\n\n“What did you do?!” I shouted, panic coursing through my veins. Tears began to bead in the girl’s eyes.\n\n“I…I can’t…I guess I did the calculations wrong…” she gasped, looking around frantically. “It’s not contained…the reaction won’t be contained…I-Oops.”\n\n“What does that mean?” Eloy asked, quietly at first, before reiterating as a shout, “What does that mean?!”\n\n“I-I don’t know.” Sarah said, quietly. \n\nThat was the danger of all of this, really. We had been toying with massive forces, forces beyond our understanding. We had been arrogant, so caught up in the grandiose nature of it all that we failed to account for what would happen if we made a mistake. \n\nPut simply, we had no idea what could happen.\n\n“We have to cut the power,” I realized desperately. I turned to my colleagues. Adrenaline flooded my system. “‘NOW!’”\n\n“There’s an emergency cutoff switch in the accelerator.” Sarah said, regaining her composure. “But you’ll have to be fast, Adam – if you don’t hit it, you’ll get caught up in whatever the hell that thing does.”\n\nI nodded. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to argue, but there simply wasn’t time – the accelerator needed to be shut down, and it needed to be shut down ‘now’.\n\nI swung open the door, diving into the belly of the machine. The glow of the walls had grown, now, changing from a dull red to a blinding white. I held my arm up to shield me from the light, a human defense mechanism that would soon fail to defend me. I couldn’t see anything – at that point, I wouldn’t have been surprised if my retinas had been burned out completely.\n\nI began to feel along the walls, trying to find the switch Sarah had mentioned with my remaining senses. It quickly began to burn, the heat of the metal slowly searing the flesh from my hands, but I had to keep going – we had run out of other options. \n\nAbout twenty feet in, I felt my hand run over a hot piece of ceramic – a disc of heat that protruded about six inches from the wall. It was the switch, I figured, and breathed a sigh of relief. I pressed the button inwards, waiting until I felt its edges go flush against the side of the wall. With a click of ceramic on metal, I heard an alarm sound, and slowly regained my vision as the blinding light began to die. \n\nI looked down at my hands, taking in the sight and scent of the charred-black flesh that had come to coat my left palm. The left sleeve of my lab coat had burned, charring away the fabric and exposing my arm to the elements. I was in massive pain, I realized, but it was mostly drowned out by the relief of having *won*, having averted disaster and maybe even saved the world –\n\nI heard a loud click as everything went dark around me. I took a step forward, limping slightly on the charred muscle of my left leg, making my way out to the door I had come in through. \n\nPeering out through the glass window of the door, I saw that the power had gone out, shutting down the fluorescent light bulbs I had grown so used to. The accelerator, and our laboratory immediately adjacent to it, were in a basement underneath the school, so we lacked any and all natural lighting. \n\nSuddenly, I heard a loud rumble emanate from behind me. I whipped my head around once more, wincing as my burned flesh struggled against the motion, and saw a white wall of light barreling towards me down the halls of the particle accelerator. \n\nI stumbled backwards, though it was all in vain as the light overtook me, bathing me in its harsh glow as I braced my muscles and emptied my mind. \n\nThe light began to consume me. It entered through my mouth and my nose, sliding past my gritted teeth and navigating its way deep into my body. It coursed through my veins, following the flow of my blood like a current through water. It ripped through my muscles and shocked my nerves, jolting me into a higher state of consciousness than I had ever been in before.\n\nI looked down once again. My skin had stitched itself back together, covering and repairing the burns I had suffered within the accelerator. The glow around me was beginning to die down, now, shattering the door and racing out through the laboratory. I gasped, not because of the reaction our accelerator had caused, but because of how I perceived it.\n\nThe world I saw in front of me was frozen, bits of shrapnel and beads of light suspended, unmoving, in air. The glow had caught up to Eloy, now, and it seemed he was not as lucky as me – I saw, in slow motion, as the glow incinerated him, tearing his atoms apart until there was nothing left but ash. I began to run, hoping to save at least one person from the disaster I created, quickly outpacing even light as I tackled Sarah, covering her body with mine.\n\nThe glow consumed me once more, and my senses began to fail me. The last thing I saw was the world speeding up, time returning to its normal pace as I tumbled through the air. \n\nThen, there was nothing. ",
"The lab was Dr. Yang’s pride and joy. The D.O.D had sunk in most of its black budget into the lab back in 1970. They had followed Yang’s blueprints to a Tee. White walls touch a white floor and a white ceiling, men and women move from white table to white table in white lab coats, it was as close to heaven as a scientist can get.\n\nAs is his custom, Dr. Yang looks from his own white tabletop to his beeping phone, then up to the digital clock. If it wasn't for his phones alarm he would work through lunch. Sighing slightly he swipes his phone off and returns it to his pocket. He hates to leave the lab but he knows that a man needs to eat.\nStanding up and stretching a bit the good Doctor looks over to his friend. “Doctor Stanza?”\n\nStanza looks up from her own work. “Lunch time already,” she says with a grin. “You know if you keep doing that every time a phone goes off I’m going to start salivating.”\n\nYang chuckles at the light joke. “I suppose I could change-”\n\nSuddenly the sound electricity arcing and the smell of burning wires fills the lab which is followed quickly by an, “oops.” \n\nWiping their heads around Yang and Stanza see one of the youngest lab assistants standing before a green blob of energy. From time to time the ball fires off bolts of purple lighting hitting and marring the white lab.\nStanza is dumbfound as other run out of the lab in fear. “WHAT THE HELL,” she yells over the sound of the, whatever it is.\n\nYang however doesn’t answer her, he is the only one in the lab running to the ball. He runs as fast as he can and grabs the young assistant pulling him away just in time to be missed by a bolt of the strange lighting. \n\n“Holy shit Doc. thanks,” the young man says once they are on the other side of the lab.\n\n“Thank me by telling me what the hell that is! Why don’t I know about something happening in MY lab!”\n\nThe man runs a hand through his wild hair and grunts,”I thought it was the D.O.D’s lab?”\n\n“Do not test me boy there is a giant ball of, of, I don’t know, loose in this lab! What do you know, more to my point, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!”\nLooking from the green ball to his boss Yang get a good look at his eyes, there is a sense of defiant, even in this bad of situation but either through youthful hesitation or force of will he relents. “I stole one of the test crystals.”\n\nStanza has now ran over and joined them. “I’m sorry did I just hear you say that you took one of the most valuable things our government has ever made?” As if to drive her point home a bolt of lightning hits one of the large computers in the lab causing it to explode.\n\n“We can punish him later Lyn. Right now I want to know what he did with it.”\n\n“He is right here. Rude. But getting to the point, I put the crystal in a quantum entangler. I thought I had the focusing chamber set right but-”\n\n“Hang on, stop. You can’t just spout Sci-Fi bull shit like that and expect me and Doctor Yang to buy into it!” The lab assistant looks over his shoulder to the still throbbing ball energy then back to Stanza and shoots her and eyebrow. “...Okay. \n\nGood point,” she says getting the point. \n\nYang only shakes his head, “This is incredible, but we need to stop it. What do we do?”\n\n“I-I-I-I’m not sure,” the young man says.\n\n“You not sure? You built something that can do, THAT, but you didn’t have back up plan?” \n\n“What can I say lady, things just kind of work out for me. Hell I got into her without even going to college.”\n\n“I’ll kill him,” Stanza tries to rush him but Yang stops her.\n\n“We need him.” Studying the ball Yang thinks aloud. “What if we break the entangler? Would that work or is it self sufficient now?”\n\n“Sure but it’s over there…” \n\nYang and Stanza look to where their would be assistant points to on the floor. In that spot is a rather hobbled together thing that resembles a Dustbuster with a glowing vacuum tube sticking out of it.\n\n“I-I-I think I can get it and turn it off. Once I re-calibrate the focus chamber it should work fine.”\n\nYang is stunned. “You could have turned it off this whole time!”\n“Yeah, but you two keep talking.”\n\n“JUST GO DO IT,” shouts Yang finally reaching the end of his rope. \n\n“Holy shit fine!” \n\nThe young man runs for the energy ball, lightning strikes at his feet as he race to his goal. He grabs the strange gadget off the floor as he power slides under green ball of energy. On the other side he flips around and with a press of a button the ball of energy is gone. The lab is left blacked and scared, but is now very still.\n\n“Thank God,” Stanza says.\n\n“Well, that was a thing. Now about you- What the hell,” Yang looks on in horror as the young man fires his gadget at a white wall.\n\nThis time what comes out of the end of the gadget leaves a flat green disk on the wall, just big enough for a man to walk through.\n\n“Ha! Yes! Take that mother fuckers!” The one time assistant looks back to the Doctors. “That’s right, it’s a mother fucking portl gun! You remember this face! \n\nYou tell'em that Rick Sanchez go the best of you!”\n\nRick flips them a double bird and starts to walk through the portal, “Origin story bitches! Tell my wife she can keep the baby!” \nRick goes through the portal leaving behind a messy lab and two confused Doctor’s. \n\n ",
"\"Oops.\"\n\nThe word sent a chill down my spine as the word bounced from wall to wall, filling my ears with the disastrous sound. I froze in my own work instantly knowing that my bodies reflexes were screaming to take over. To run and hide. To bolt for the door and try to beat the deadbolts that were about to slam down.\n\nInstead, I let out a small sigh of resignation, and turned towards the hapless assistant, hoping beyond hope he had used the wrong trashbin, or opened the wrong drawer. I saw the desk he was standing next to and knew it was hopeless. Oops wasn't allowed at that station. Oops wasn't even the right terminology for any fuck up that came from there. Poor guy.\n\nI didn't bother to correct him as the reaction fizzed, the blue glow intensified and the beginings of the chain reaction began. He looked up to me, silently, pleadingly asking for what to do. He was new, but had the unfortunate wisdom to know what was happening. I had time for a weak shrug and a shake of my head before the light pierced my eyes as the flash consumed him.\n\nI didn't remember much after the flash, but from what I do remember, and the footage that was shown afterwards, I pieced the story together. I remember seeing the antimatter flux begin it's consummation phase, ripping the container it was apart in a torrid affair that my mind simply couldn't process at the time. It's non-dimensional aspects began to dissolve reality around it as the ethereal blue light poured forth from it's contact with reality. The release of energy, caught in the strange state of gravitational distortion around it killed my assistant in an equally strange dissolving of his molecular bonds. He melted away in inches as the bright blue light sucked him in. I can only imagine how it hurt. \n\nThankfully, he was gone in moments, and the quasi-dimensional hole that the antimatter ripped out of the world went with him. The room bent inwards at it's passing, and then the explosion threw everything back to normal in a violent burst of energy.\n\nMinutes later I came to, coughing and vomiting into my black contamination suit. The room was in shambles around me. The event left me with some battering and bruising, but otherwise unscathed. The rest of the facility was somewhat shaken, but the lair itself remained in-tact. My formal debriefing in front of Dr. Horrible went without anything but minor amusement passing in his face, before I was sent to the barracks. My tests and lab were stripped bare, and then reinstalled to monitor the new gravitational anomalies that were frequent there, but overall, life as a minion of a Super-villain went on.",
"\"Oops\", I heard Frank at the other end of the lab.\n\n\"Frank, can give me a brief and clear reason for that 'oops' of yours?\"\n\nFrank adjusted his glasses. His forehead was shining with sweat. He stuttered a word or two before spilling the beans.\n\n\"I... Um, I think I accidentaly let one of the genetically enhanced spiders escape.\"\n\n\"You did *what*?!\", I suppressed a scream. It was almost morning and the lab was empty, except for Frank, the night guard and myself. \"God damn it, Franklin. We have no idea what these spiders are capable of. We gotta find it before *it* finds someone.\"\n\nFrank knelt down and looked under the table. \"No signal of it, doctor. I guess it ran away.\" He looked at me. I could feel the fear in his eyes. \"What should we do?\"\n\nI looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 6AM. In a question of hours all those students from the local high school should arrive and turn my lab into a rave party.\n\nWe spent every minute we had to find that accursed spider, but to no avail. The teenagers arrived.\n\nGeeky kids with their gadgets, girls with cameras, taking pictures of our enhanced animals. Jocks insisted on bullying those poor kids. Hell, I was one of these bullied boys once, I hope they can find their way into a bright future like mine.\n\nI heard someone say \"ouch\". \"The spider, the damn spider.\", I muttered. Frank tried to find who was bitten, but all he could see was a scrawny boy running away from the lab.\n\nWell, I had only one option: Waiting. Either for the lawsuits from a dead kid's parents or for some relief in discovering that the spider could do nothing.\n\nTwo months passed. No one came to my lab complaining about their dead son, so I guess there was nothing special about that spider. My life was normal once more.\n\nExcept maybe for the fact that yesterday some crazy guy with mechanical wings tried to explode the lab and a kid dressed as a superhero saved us. Frank asked for his name, and he said \"I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man\".\n\n*God damn it, Frank.*",
"Oops...\n\nOh fuck not this again. This was a word that meant the ushering in of the bane of my existence, lab accidents. I was already on a short leash after all of the accidents I have had over the years, everything from explosions, acid/base spills, toxic gases, electrical mishaps, you name it. I was lucky to even be put in charge of this lab after my superior had retired to put it bluntly. If I have one more serious accident the board may fire me, assuming I survive said accident. I turned to see my assistant running from the wall of flames behind him yelling my name \"Mr. Beaker! Mr. Beaker!\" and yelled the only response I could think of.\n\n**MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!**",
"\"Oops.\"\n\n\"Oops?\" \n\n\"... Oops.\"\n\n\"Oops!?\"\n\nDr. Cavendish turned sharply on his heel and speed walked across the pristine lab. He came upon his assistant, Dr. Yu, standing completely still over a containment chamber. His brown almond eyes transfixed on the seemingly empty vessel. \n\n\"What do you mean 'oops!?'\" Dr. Cavendish said tetchily. \n\n\"I mean oops.\" Yu replied looking up at his boss. His face was painted every color but calm. Cavendish felt his heart skip over as his gaze trailed down to the containment pod. Yu's hands were still within the isolation gloves that extended into the pod. Yellow light from the incubation bulb flashed dull over their neoprene surface. Yu turned his right glove over and Cavendish saw the reason for his errantly expressed exacerbation. \n\n\"The Nirus...\" Cavendish said aghast as he stared at the tiny hole in the isolation gloves. \n\nThe Nirus, or course stood for nano-virus. A lab created artificial virus composed of the latest and greatest nanotechnology. Combining both organic and synthetic properties the Nirus was intended to be a 'smart-bug,' that could be injected into a human body and act as a T-cell replacement variable. It was intended as an artificial immunobooster that could be programmed to destroy cancerous cells as well as a whole spectrum of untreatable diseases such as STD's, anti-biotic resistant, and genetic aberrations. \n\nHowever humans are fickle creatures and once discovered that the Nirus could be programmed to heal, it wasn't long before they discovered how to program it to harm. It's new objective was to install a form of sterility in the genetic code as well as release its information for super-AIDS. In short it was the most effective biological weapon known to man. To make it even more effective the Nirus was uploaded with the information and ideals of the Nazi party and South African apartheid. The bug wasn't only deadly, but it was racist as well. Had its creators thought of giving it a tiny nano-mouth there is no doubt that you'd be able to hear tiny racial slurs being shouted from its seething, hateful body. Forget about anthrax, forget about mustard gas, hell, forget about the plague, those bugs couldn't hold a mutated mitochondrion to the Nirus. \n\nThus when Cavendish heard his clumsy assistant mutter 'oops,' the hairs on the back of his neck did rise. Seeing the hole here and now, his worst fears had been realized. Once introduced to the world there was virtually no stopping its spread. Cavendish looked to his assistant with a hopelessness that would take the heart of Aragorn himself. \n\n\"Oops.\" He said simply. Confirming his assistants fears.\n\n\"Oops?\" Was Yu's half hopeful reply. \n\n\"Oops...\" Cavendish said back shaking his head. \n\nCavendish then reached over to the flash-immolation quarantine switch, knowing full and well that it couldn't stop the Nirus, he pulled the lever.\n\n---\n\nIn the charred remained of the once immaculate lab a grain of ash shifted and fell to the side. The tiny grain rolled down a mountain of soot, causing a small ash-avalanche. From the cinders and slag rose put a tiny four legged monster. It raised its arms triumphantly, it's tiny myosin and actin fibers flexing gloriously. Would it only have had a mouth the tiny nanobot would have cried loud and long it's wretched war cry. It looked over the mountains of ash that spanned well over the horizon. There was much work to be done, it was a shame he hadn't the time to replicate within his host. With a solitary finger on its microscopic hand it flipped the world the bird, and set off to burn it to the ground. \n\n---\n\nHey if you liked this short little story about a racist, genocidal nano-virus, then why don't you hope on down to my sub at /r/ScribeSchneid . Word has it that the cure to that malevolent, malconceived, megalomaniac Nirus is hidden somewhere on that page. Save yourselves! ",
"“I am not staying late again tonight, Doctor.” My assistant slammed the tray she was carrying down on one of the metal tables. I turned, surprised, Kate was never one to speak out. She barely spoke at all.\n\n“I’m sorry?” I was baffled. We’ve been on the edge of breakthrough for weeks now, and I know the long hours are hard on everyone, but we’re so close. I expressed this to Kate as she frowned and shook her head. She began to put glassware away and we continued to work in silence. She slammed a drawer and it made me jump. I turned to look at her, and watched her move about the room in an agitated manner. “Kate. Quit walking like that. And don’t slam the cabinetry, the university is not willing to pay for replacements.” She glowered at my back as I turned back to my computer display to analyze data. “I don’t know why you’re so sour, Kate. It’s not like you’re going home to anyone. You don’t even have a cat, let alone a significant other. You might as well work, you have nothing better to do. Clearly you should be grateful to me for allowing you to stay here and work instead of going home and sitting around-”\n\nSomething pinched my neck and stung as coldness rapidly spread through my body. Kate pulled the needle from my neck and smiled coldly at me as she spun my stool around. I was losing control of my limbs. She dropped the needle on the floor next to my stool and stripped the gloves off of her hands as she made her way to the door of the lab. Opening the door, she looked back at me as I slowly toppled from my stool to the cold tile ground. \n\nShe smiled. “Oops.”\n"
] | 8
|
|
[WP]You are an astronaut who has just arrived home from a distant galaxy when you realize you have contracted a highly lethal space virus that is spreading quickly.
|
[
"*Day 1* I've returned to Earth! We're all so happy to be back, while I love my crew, being alone with them for over a decade can be, arduous. \n\n*Day 3* Over the last three days since my return I have appeared on every news station I could care to name, while I expected to be questioned, I didn't expect this much attention, well what can you expect - I am the captain of the first crew to view alien life.\n\n*Day 5* I've been called back to the lab, I knew that's where the floral samples we had collected had been taken, they had all been correctly catalogued and reported, so I was... Intrigued, why did they need to see me. There was no Fauna on HD 85512b.\n\n*Day 6* I got the results back, NASA seem worried that I am somehow carrying a possible alien microbe - I say microbe, as it seems to exhibit neither the traits of a bacterium, protoctista, or any other kingdom. I fail to see how *I* could have been infected, it is impossible for it to have ever come into contact with my skin, we were always an airlock and a decontamination away from any possible organic matter.\n\n*Day 9* There have been nine reported hospitalized cases of a new \"disease\", all of whom are people in which I have come into contact with in the last nine days since my return.\n\n*Day 13* My crew and I have all been placed under quarantine, while none of us are exhibiting symptoms, we were all found to have the \"infection\" present in our blood stream. The source of the infection is still undetermined\n\n*Day 22* The infection has spread in the outside world, between us we have into contact with thousands of people in the weeks before our quarantine, and from them, the infection has spread like wild fire.\n\n*Day 38* while they have tried to keep it quiet, we have seen the reports, thousands already dead, hundreds of times that are expected to be infected.\nI'm praying for my family who have been unable to visit for days.\n\n*Day 42* Joanne seems different... While none of us have exhibited any symptoms, she seems to have... Changed. She was the botanist... She's probably patient zero. Maybe the cure lies within her...\n\n*Day 50* Not one person has checked on us in days, maybe they ran, maybe they forgot, maybe they don't care, maybe their dead. We have enough food within the quarantine wing to survive but soon we have to leave. I've got to find my family. I've got to care for my family\n\n*Day 58* We're free! We're free! We've managed to escape, all of us but Joanne, for well... Obvious reasons.\n\n*Day 61* We've found nothing but death, there must be somebody out there, someone immune... Someone left.\n\n*Day 68* There are no people in the cities, no animals in the forest, no fish in the sea, no birds in the sky, nothing left but trees and death.\n\n*Day 78* I see people at night, people who aren't there, only dead. There are only three of us left now. My once crew of ten, now 66% dead. \n\n*Day 86* I saw Joanne riding a horse, she always loved horses. She seemed so real, yet I know she's not... Neither is the horse. The horse isn't real. The horse is dead.\n\n*Day 100* I'm on my own, there are plants every where now, no people, no fauna, only flora...\n\n*Day 116* I'm sure I saw Joanne again, which is peculiar because i stopped seeing the others...\n\n*Day 128* The trees tower above.\n\n*Day 132* I'm sure I saw Johanna again, wearing clothes grey and green, sitting atop a sickly white horse, hovering in between\n\n*Day 164* She watches me atop her horse, viewing in the night. \n\n*Day 196* Alone in a world left to the elements. She watches me from horseback... Pestilence."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You confront your bully with compassion instead of violence.
|
[
"John had always been an intelligent kid. Good at math and language arts. His teachers gave him daily puzzels and tests for congitive genius at the age of 5. His problem was how he never felt he had the motivation to do anything with it. He truly loved just observing the world for what it is.\n\nJohn wasnt a lonely kid. When he was curious he would ask the others how the felt about a certian topic. \nWhen he felt lonely, he would come close to others without wary for the social standings the political world of children have.\n\nUnbeknownst to John, Curtis hated dealing with those he didnt know. Curtis had a deep rooted fear from being nearly kidnapped that made him aggressive to strangers.\nCurtis could have been a sweet boy. Yet, he shows dominance in all aspects of his days to show that he believes he shouldnt be a target for anyone. His vulnerabilities should never be known to any but himself.\nCurtis was also intelligent. He was k8nd to those he cared for, and merciful to those who stepped back from him.\n\nJohn, being curious, asked curtis at the wrong time, at the wrong place.\n\n8am on the school bus john sits on the first availavle seat on the bus he can find. Usually in the middle. Curtis was the last to be picked up and enter the bus today. He almost wamted to stand. His best friend was absent and john's seat was close and open. He didnt care where he sat on this day because he was upset his mother didnt let him get the gushers pack for lunch. Punishment for losing dad's toy wrench. Which cost 50$.\n\nJohn asked Curtis if he was ready to have the best show and tell ever today. Curtis looked him in the eyes for a second. Moved him from his window side, and nearly kicked him off the seat as he stared out the view during the whole bus ride in silence.\n\nPass 7 years and our boys are 12 years old.\n Curtis of course never remembered why he hated john, and John had no idea what he had done wrong. But the tension built over the years. And curtis took any opportunities he could to let john know he was beneath him.\n\nCurtis was a typical school bully at this point. He doesnt go out of his way to let kids fear his utter dominance. He doesnt choose one brat and take his lunch money. No, he has (what he believes to be) his reasons. And he lets it be known that none deserve to get near him lest they want to be forced back.\n\nJohn grew more and more curious why someone would openly state such a strange and demanding amount of space. It was more than elbow room that he wanted.\nEven more so, curtis gave a look a judge gives an e, with a restraining order to john. \"Stay in your place dog\" muttered curtis as he masses John every day. John would naturally fear this as curtis would seem hostile, but john's inclination to observe this phenomenon led him to be more curious of the attitude.\n\nJohn would want to get close to curtis. Many different attemps of just walking past, being shoved into corners, and face to face talks would lead john to believe curtis hates him specifically. And curtis knew something was up, that john wanted something. Soon, curtis's friends would tease john, saying how dumb he looked with his bookbag overfilled with books. Arching himself like quasimoto. Curtis didnt care for the comments but stared adamently as john passed by each time.\n\nJohn took this as a hint, he would only observe too. And john knew that curtis was only acting on what he wanted. To john, curtis had a peace that was only interrupted by him, john wamted to be someone to make peace. With this going on all semester, john has lost plenty of self esteem, and motivation to do much anything. And with all the thoguhts rushing at one time, john had a mental trip, he fumbled and asked, what if just no one liked him?\n\nHe wouldnt approach anyone anymore. Not for notes, and not evem to ask to borrow a pencil as all students lose from time to time. He became disorganized and started forgetting his hobbies at home too.\n\nBut before john started spiralling into a depression he saw a note at his desk. Thats right, something he had been writing and making sure each word was right. He read it 5 times on this day. It was a Thursday afternoon when he realized that, with no name date or direction, this was a note he wrote as an apology to Curtis. \n\n\"Hi, im john and i saw you alot while going to school for all these years. I dont know your name but i know i made you upset. I was thinking so much about how cool your shirt was and i liked your shirt because your shirt was star wars and i love star wars. I wanted to say sorry that time i embarrassed you and your friends for liking star wars too. I know you dont like when people get close to you because you scared me. Im sorry im so annoying.\"\nWas what was written\nJohn thought it was a terrible terrible idea to say sorry. He remembered he wrote it two weeks prior and forgot it in his desk. The day he wrote it his nerves shook because all the thoughts it took to have those things come out was mostly shame and fear. A young boy who used to love observing the world, has found himself a pesterance and gave up on it. \nJohn didnt give it to curtis the day it was written because that day curtis was absent.\n\nNow, this Thursday in January john was brave enough to speak to curtis. It was recess time and john wemt to go get his note. But before he could go in, he found curtis crying. Sitting at john desk curtis was laying calming with small silent tears running down his face. \nThey looked at each other\n\"My friends went through your notes to get answeres to the test. I was not gonna cheat because i know it already. You wrote this for me didnt you?\" Said curtis with a soft voice.\nJohn nodded almost in fear, but empathy for curtis.\n\"I dont trust people. I dont like anyone i dont trust. But i dont like hurting others\" said curtis\n\nJohn said with effort \"you wouldnt know who you hurt. You dont even want to know if you do. Because you just fight everyone who gets close.\"\n\nThere was a silence, and curtis understood that he may have been mistaken for all the years he pushed people away. John got close to curtis, and curtis flinched making john react too.\n\n\"Are you scared of me?\" Asked john\n\"NO\" said curtis \"are you scared of me?\"\n\"Yes\" said john. \"I dont think you would hurt me now though.\"\n\"Why would i? I dont like hurting people\" said curtis\n\"Well you hurt alot of kids who got near you for a long time\" said john\n\"Yeah because they suck and should stay away\" said curtis\nJohn just didnt understand whether curtis was a jerk or something else.\n\n\"I dont suck, and i dont think you suck, want to share my lunch? My mom gave me gushers. Its my favorite\"\nSaid john\n\n\"Mine too\" said curtis\n\n\n\nCurtis realized that this was the food he was upset about when they had their first interaction. He asked john \"do you remember when i kicked you off the school bus when we were 5\" \"no\" said john.\n\"Well i did it because i wanted the whole seat so no one could see me cry. Kids laugh at anyone they see crying because its not good to cry\" said curtis\n\"I think crying sucks, but thats because being sad sucks, and we are sad when we are in pain. I would not hurt others even if they hurt me, id just want to know why so i could fix it maybe\" said john\n\nCurtis almost burst i to tears, and he got up, took the gushes saying thanks. Walked out the door, stopped and said, \"im sorry, ill be nice to you now\" and left.\n\nThe sunlit room was johns company now. He didnt know why he felt so good about this. But at the same time he didnt think anything would change.\n\nSince he always considered curtis to be a close friend. And just in need of a little gushers.\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Bob Ross and Mr. Rogers get competitive in a Nice-Off
|
[
"1 second after the contest starts, Bob starts to speak, but is quickly interrupted by Fred. \"I apologize for my rudeness, but before we truly start, I just wanted to say I like you exactly the way you are.\" \n\nAt the moment of the last word leaving the sweater wearing man's lips, the painter shed a single tear. He then quickly hugged him, sat down and begged \" tell me a story\" "
] | 1
|
|
This can be for actual weird lyrics (like "Go-kart Mozart was checking out the weather chart to see if it was safe outside" from Blinded By The Light) or misheard lyrics/mondegreens (like " 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy" from Purple Haze).
See if you can incorporate more than one lyric from the song into the story... good luck with that one if you go with Blinded By The Light.
|
[WP] Explain a baffling/weird/misheard song lyric with a story.
|
[
"\"You're sure this is the script, my lady?\" A man covered in flowing blue robes presents a box to a woman with ornate, otherworldly jewelry covering her body. She turns as if being slowly controlled by a puppeteer. Dark energy radiates from her body, and a pit forms in the stomach of the robed assistant from just being in her presence.\n\n\n\"This is it. Remind me to promote the archeological team.\" she says in something halfway between a gargle and a growl. The assistant reasons that the ritual must nearly be complete.\n\n\n\"I am glad to have served, ma'am. Soon, under our master's shining wisdom, we will be free from these mortal husks and finally become beings of the cosmos.\"\n\n\n\"Starspawn.\" The woman nods her head slowly, and takes the script out of the box. The script itself is a scroll that looks unimaginably aged and damaged, and it reeks of seaweed and saltwater. However, every single stroke of crimson ink is clear, marking out bold illustrations of vile, tentacled creatures and letters in a language that doesn't resemble anything humans have ever produced.\n\n\n\"The studio is almost-\" The man looks at the door leading out of the room, only to be interrupted.\n\n\n\"These words... I can feel the power flowing through me just seeing them on the paper!\" A black pall settles over the room, and wet, unnatural fog starts creeping over the dull flourescent lights.\n\n\"Tell me the moment you are ready, my lady. The producers still know nothing of our plan.\"\n\n\"Good. The word of our master must slip out unseen. These regressionist fools who demand governments to shackle our minds and bodies will surely destroy us if our program is ever discovered.\" A sudden surge of dark energy pulses through the woman's body. She begins to hover a few inches off the ground. The lights around her, already coated in vile fog, begin to flicker uncontrollably. The strangling mist shrouds the two figures as the woman begins to shake violently.\n\n\n\"Yes... YES! I can fell the power burning into my mind! The power of our god! We... will... be... FREE!\" Just as the last word escapes her mouth, the black energy around her dissipates. She collapses to the ground in an undignified heap. The ornate jewelery formerly covering her body disintegrates into ash. She looks like a normal human, save for the cultist robes she's wearing. She takes a small razor and rubs it against her hand. The blood that seeps out is a sickening shade of black. \"We've succeeded. Leave while I change.\" The assistant excuses himself as she swaps her robe with normal, civilian attire. She bandages the cut on her hand, then walks out of the room.\n\n\n\"Mrs. Fenty! I saw some weirdo in wizard robes walking our of your changing room. Did you let him in?\" A bodyguard in a perfectly ironed tuxedo looks at the woman with a concerned face.\n\n\n\"Yes, he's a... makeup director in training. We were working together on a little something.\" Mrs. Fenty points towards the pitch black eyeshadow she had been wearing for the ritual.\n\n\n\"Ah, understood. Norm! Let him go.\" The bodyguard turns towards another bodyguard standing imposingly over the blue-robed cultist. Norm backs away from him, and he rushes out the door. \"Some getup he's wearing. What does he think he's doing after this, playing D&D in his basement?\"\n\n\n\"Beats me, hun. Alright, I'm ready to record.\n\n\n\"Great. I'll get back to my station.\" The bodyguard turns down the hallway and dashes off.\n\n\n\"Thanks a bunch, Mr. Wu.\" A smile creeps over Mrs. Fenty's face the instant her bodyguard is out of sight. *Everything has led to this moment. Setting up this entire ruse of a new song coming out, pulling strings with fellow believers around the world. Now, all our plans fall into place.* she thinks, turning the words on the ancient script over and over in her mind.\n\n\nShe walks into the studio. The air is dry, and a few forty-something men stand on the side adjusting sound equipment. \"Ready to record?\"\n\n\n\"Certianly, hun. I've been waiting to finally get this on air.\" *This entire pathetic world has been waiting to get this on air. The truths of our master will finally reach the far reaches of this planet.* she thinks with a half-concealed smile. She steps into the small recording chamber and adjusts the microphone to hang right next to her face.\n\n\n\"Alright, everyone, here we go. Take one of Rihanna's new single, 'Work'\"."
] | 1
|
[WP] Disneyland has achieved space FTL and have colonized entire worlds in Disney themed colony's. Aliens attack and they will learn the hard way that one should not anger the "House of Mouse".
|
[
"For a seemingly innocent theme planet full of fairies, friendly pirates, and flying boys, it was remarkably well defended.\n\nGliese 581g, recently renamed for commercial purposes to 'Neverworld', contained state of the art anti-rioting, anti-invasion, and anti-unhappiness security measures embedded into every nook and cranny of the magical land.\n\nAs per company policy, all staff in Neverworld required a minimum of 6 years of military training in addition to training with automated firearms and heavy weaponry. Mascot costumes were designed to provide protection from stabbing, shrapnel, vaporization and foreign object orifice invasion while remaining fluffy and huggable. For more large scale threats, anti-air laser cannons have been concealed inside military-grade flying pirate ships. Even common lampposts were outfitted with state of the art infrared threat and distress detection systems, so that in the case of a fallen ice-cream cone emergency, the Muffin Man instant happiness delivery system would provide immediate sugary relief.\n\nWhile such security measures appeared excessive upon initial conception, they were not unwarranted as demonstrated by the 2661 attempted planetary conquest by the Grall warrior race. After a forceful entry without paying the park entry fee, the Grall were promptly vaporized by Disney's Secret Santa orbital satellite laser with a message emblazoned into the landscape equal parts welcoming yet threatening:\n\n\"Have a magical time!\"",
"We were a race of conquerors... Killers. I regret what we did, but we did it to survive. Driven from our home planet eons ago, we only had our ships. Our massive fleet of fighters and warships, lifeships and agriships. We moved with a slow crawl through space, because we didn't enjoy our reputation either. When our resources would dwindle, every quarter century or so, we would have to invade a planet. \n\nWith our superior technology we would rip the resources from the planet and leave it a husk. Killing the population afterwards was a kindness in this sense. What is a quick death compared to years of suffering and starvation? We didn't relish the idea, and we didn't enjoy the act. It was quick and precise genocide. We never stayed on a planet more than a year to set off again into the stars. Now we don't do it at all. We can't anymore, there aren't enough of us left. \n\nScanning and invading the planet that would be our downfall was as mundane as any other time. The planet in particular, MIC-K3Y seemed lifeless. We looked into our records and discovered humans had colonized it centuries prior before abandoning it, but it was still ripe for resources. We were overjoyed when we found this out. We could live 25 more years without the genocide of a species on our collective conscious. This joy was short lived... \n\nWe landed with a small team, enough to scout the place. Again, we found no visual signs of recent life. Barren husks of ancient machinery and what looked like a themed amusement center remained, but that was it. After we combed the rest of the planet we called back to base and told them to drop the resource ships, our agricultural ships and our lifeships. These ships were where most of our species dwelled and worked, and that was our fatal flaw. \n\nAlmost as soon as the doors opened for the agri-ship the... Mice appeared. They were numerous, and they poured out from holes in the earth. They were small and black and disgusting... But they were not organic. They were not attacking us though. They surrounded us and waited, millions of them just waiting. It arose from one of the holes, the mouse... The mouse that had razors for teeth and fire in its eyes. It came closer to our team and bellowed out \"Ah-huh! Well hey there friendly fellows, what are you doing on our planet?\" in a high pitched tone. \n\nWe couldn't respond, we could only look on in horror as the mass of mice began to join to this singular mouse, this ancient demon. He began to grow bigger and larger as the mice formed a larger, swarming version of himself. As we prepared to defend ourselves, the eater of world's in front of us attacked. It vomited up hordes of mice and buried the men and women on the assault team. We called in for orbital assistance at this point. As the shells fired down on the planet, the swarming mass absorbed the blows. He grew stronger with each shot. Then it spoke again... \"Hey, goofy, come on out and meet my new friends.\" \n\nFrom the depths of the planet we heard an ancient guttural sound. It shook the ground with its cries and the noise rent us unable to move. I still remember the sound as I climbed on the only escape pod and launched into space, back to our now doomed people. \n\n\"Hhhhyuuuuuckkkk!\""
] | 2
|
|
[WP] Write the screenplay or storyline for "Reddit: The movie"
|
[
"(I shared this storyline elsewhere before)\n\nIt starts out with the camera panning over to a laptop just sitting there next to a couch. While this happens, we see some credits. There's a half smoked bowl and a cup of chocolate milk sitting next to the computer. Then, a neckbeard sits down, and proceeds to type in reddit.com into google. As the beginning credits roll, we see him just browsing reddit doing Reddit stuff. He answers /r/askreddit questions, watches videos on /r/videos, and discusses on/r/trees if smoking a joint is more efficient than hitting a bong. He occasionally hits his pipe, and pets the kitty sitting on his lap.\n\nAs the beggining credits end, we then see him ask a question here in /askreddit. As he begins to read the replies, the camera zooms in on the computer screen on a specific answer. Then it pans back out to the redditor who just submitted said answer. We then see some of their life, with some reddit-ish references mixed in. THEY eventually asks a different question, which sets up another character being introduced via their answer, and so on, and so on.\n\nEventually, this will lead to one Redditor browsing a specific thread for a Reddit meetup. He/she goes to the meetup and we see some of the previous redditors from the opening AskReddit montage (minus the first dude). A bunch of awkward things happen and the plot doesn't really get anywhere.\n\nAfter, the screen then fades to someone scrolling thru pictures of the get together on a familiar laptop. We see an empty glass and half eaten Chinese food next to it. Camera zooms out and it is shown to be the very first OP, still browsing reddit. He mentions out loud 'better get some sleep', while reloading the front page. We then see the top post being someone finding a very old looking safe. OP let's out air from his noise, and then proceeds to click into the thread.\n\nFin"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] In a dystopian future where a system allows anyone to buy someone's memories and talents, you hunt down the people behind this system to shut it down without any recollection of your past or who you are.
|
[
"I have a piece of paper. I hide it inside my bra when I'm out. It's not good to get caught with paper. Paper means secrets. \n\nOne side of the paper says\n\n*Henry Bell / Kramer, Missouri / F: Wyatt, M: Mary, S1: Tara, S2: Lara / Violin*\n\nThe other side of the paper says\n\n*Riley Wakelin / Bath, Maine / F: ?, M: Christine, S: Emily, B1: Ben, B2: Kevin / Sculpture*\n\nI'm Riley. I'm Riley. I'm Riley. I'm Riley.\n\nI'm Riley because the paper says it, but otherwise...no. I don't remember. Anything.\n\nHenry is the man in my house. He must be. There are pictures of us everywhere. We must love each other very much. We must.\n\nI'm a sculptor. Henry is a violinist. That's what the paper says. But we aren't that anymore. We aren't those people anymore. \n\nI don't know why. I don't know why someone took that from us.\n\nThey trade memories. People. Or, I guess, take and sell them. So someone...someone has my memories. Someone has Henry's memories. Why would they want them? Why would they take them?\n\nI need to get them back. \n\nI had an idea.\n\nOn Russell Street, past the server farms and the empty Mesoasian meat markets, there are stalls covered in black tarps. They sell cloned memories there. Rips of rips of rips. They flush out after a few hours (if they don't corrupt any native data). Good for a trip, I guess. Not a new start. \n\nThere was no money in the house. Nothing valuable enough to sell. I suggested calling the names on the paper. Wyatt. Mary. Christine. Henry's phone had an entry for *Mom and Dad* but the call didn't go through. Same thing with *Tara*. Same thing with *Lara*. Maybe his service was cut off. I didn't even have a phone. Did they steal everything else when they took our memories? Was anyone worried about us?\n\nMoney. We needed money. I tried begging, but a policeman threatened to arrest me. I told him how someone had stolen our memories, Henry and mine, but he just laughed and pointed down the road.\n\n\"Try *The Body Shop*,\" he said. \"Just get off the street.\"\n\n*The Body Shop* is a maze of dark booths with plastic benches and metal grates on the floors. Buyers and sellers negotiate in the blue lit hallways, then pay to use the booths. The house takes 50 percent. It took three days to get the money I needed.\n\nI bought a copy of Lt. Gil Chamberlain's memories. A narcotics detective. He spent the last ten years of his life as a mole inside an Ecuadorian drug cartel. I think people buy his rips for the drugs and guns and women, but I wanted to learn how to hunt. \n\nMemory dips are disorienting. There's a feeling of being two places at once - of being two *people* at once. The dip man explained that it's much worse if there's competing native data. Better that I'm a blank slate. But even as a blank slate I am a distinct person. It's as if a tornado had come through my brain. The houses are gone. The trees are gone. But the roads are still there. The land still has a shape. And then you dip another person's memory and it doesn't match the geography. Nothing is in quite the right place. It's all right and wrong simultaneously.\n\nI did what the dip man said, though. I ignored the wrong. *It's all pretend anyway* he had said to me. \n\nThe Chamberlain in me kicked in.\n\nI used what money I had left over to access a public terminal. Then I searched. That's what detective work is, Chamberlain told me. Not hunting. Looking. Looking. Looking. Looking until you couldn't stand it anymore.\n\nNot everyone can take memories. That was my first fact. Yes, crude mobile units exist, but stripping out a memory cleanly and completely requires heavy duty tech. Stationary tech. And that kind of tech is regulated. Legitimate.\n\nSo they didn't come to us. We went to them. Or were taken to them. \n\nBut that changed a lot. I was looking for a facility. And there was only one in shouting distance.\n\n*Easton Psy-Tech*\n\nIt happened there. \n\nThat's where my answers were.\n\nChamberlain flushed out after a couple hours. That's fine. He told me all I needed to know.\n\n*Easton Psy-Tech*\n\nIt took 30 days in *The Body Shop* to earn enough to purchase the gun and the bus ticket. It would have taken less time if I hadn't been so sick all the time. Henry caught it, too. Sweating, nausea, muscle spasms. The flu, maybe? Does the flu last that long?\n\nIt's a big building. Impressive. All glass and chrome and exposed elevators. I cleaned myself up before leaving. I need to look okay. Like a perspective client. I need to get inside. Luckily I found some old make-up in the bathroom. Spent some money on a nice enough dress.\n\nI'm shaking as I approach the front door. It's not nerves. I've been shaking since I woke up that first day. That must be a side effect. The brain in revolt.\n\nThe door slides open. It wants me to come in. The air inside the building is frigid. There's a light aftertaste of cleaning chemicals on my tongue. The carpet is dark gray and patterned like a maze of synapses. \n\nThere's a wide, plastic desk in the center of the open landing. A man and a woman sit at opposite ends of the desk. Both are dressed smartly. \n\nThere are three security guards, at least that I can see. One near the desk, one near the elevator, and one near an emergency exit towards the back of the building.\n\nI feel the gun inside my coat. It only carries a charge big enough for two shots. I'll need to take one of the receptionists hostage. But that will expose my back. I'll need to put the desk at my back and crouch down. That's the only way.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" asks the woman. She has a pleasant smile. I nearly pull out the gun and shoot her directly in the face. *How can you smile like that after everything you've done to me?*\n\n\"This may be a strange question,\" I say, breathing through my nose. I hope none of them notice the trickle of sweat sliding down the side of my face. \"But...I wonder...have...I wonder if I've been here before?\"\n\nI grip the gun fully. In my mind, this is the point where one of them panics. Maybe even one of them remembers my face...remembers what they did to me.\n\nThe woman continues smiling. \"I'm happy to check for you. What's the name?\"\n\n\"Riley,\" I say. \"Riley Wakelin.\"\n\n\"Hometown?\" says the woman. \n\nI swallow. \"Bath, Maine.\"\n\nShe nods. \"And can I get the first name of your mother and one of your siblings?\"\n\nThere's something about the question. Why is she asking this? If I'm in the system...and they...then why would they expect me to know that?\n\n\"Uh. Christine. And Ben.\"\n\nShe nods again. If I'm there, in her computer, what happens next? My eyes flick back and forth from guard to guard to guard. The male receptionist is typing something on his computer. What is he typing?\n\nI pull the gun halfway out of my pocket. I need to move. I need to make a move.\n\n\"Ms. Wakelin,\" says the receptionist. I'm not looking at her. I'm looking at the guards. Did one of them move? I think they're getting ready to move. I need to move first. \"You came in on May 26. Self-admitted. You were accompanied by a Mr. Henry Bell. You were both rated as Class A talent types.\" She whistles a bit to herself. \"We don't get a lot of Class A's. And both in the art field, too. Collectors love artists. Although, it looks like no one has bid on your data dips yet. Soon, though, I bet.\"\n\nI grip the gun even harder, mostly to have something to hold on to. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"You sold your memories and accumulated skills for money,\" said the male receptionist. He's not pleasant. Not like the woman.\n\nI shake my head. \"No. Why? I wouldn't...You took them...\"\n\n\"No,\" says the male receptionist. \"I checked you in. You sold 'em alright. Couldn't talk you out of it.\"\n\n\"That doesn't make sense.\" I try to check my voice down. The guards are all looking at me now. \"Why would I...\"\n\n\"Lady,\" says the male receptionist. \"I'm sorry. But you're a junkie. You and your boyfriend both. You ran out of money, you ran out of junk to sell, you probably ran off your family, and you came here to sell the last thing you had to sell. We didn't steal anything. And soon enough, guess what? You'll have a nice bank account full of credits you can use to kill yourself all over again.\"\n\n\"Jeremy!\" says the woman. \"Don't be rotten.\"\n\nThe male receptionist shakes his head. \"They're gonna end up dead. Who cares?\"\n\nI discharge both blasts into the man's chest. The woman screams as all three security guards converge on me, weapons drawn.\n\nHe stole my memories.\n\nHe stole my life.\n\nI'm Riley Wakelin. I'm Riley Wakelin. I'm Riley Wakelin.\n\nYou can't just take a person's memories. You can't... ",
"Venn stepped through the bullet-filled hallway and over the ten guards that fought in vain to protect their master. The inventor himself. Bie Wangji. He was the last one on Venn's list. This was the man who penned the theory behind the memory transfer, this curse that had shrouded Venn's history in a cloud of unknowns. Venn had searched for years, tracking down whatever leads he could acquire just to get to this man. This man, along with all the others involved, must die for his crimes. But Venn had one more reason to be here. Here, Venn had an opportunity. Wangji knew where Venn's memories were kept. Twenty years of his life, locked away in a server. Venn needed his memories back. He needed to take back what was stolen from him. Even if Wangji escapes, Venn could find him again. But if Venn lost his memory forever, well...\n\nHe checked the magazine of his silenced pistol. 5 bullets remaining. Two more magazines in his jacket. More than enough.\n\nWHAM. The door broke open with the sound of splintering wood as Venn's boot crashed through it and planted itself firmly on the floor. The pistol was raised with the accuracy of a hitman directly at the head of a man Venn knew all too well. Wangji. He sat, wide-eyed and in fear at the intruder. \n\n\"I killed your men, Wangji. There's noone coming to save you.\" Venn spat. \"You have something of mine's and if it takes-\"\n\n\"It can't be!\" Wangji stared in horror at Venn. \n\n\"Don't **fucking** interrupt me you monster! I want my memories back and you're going to tell me where they are!\" Venn gripped the gun tighter.\n\n\"No, no! You're not-\"\n\n\"Old man, do you see this gun? I could-\"\n\n\"Myra?\"\n\nHere, Venn faltered. He had tracked down and killed a list of 26 people involved in the conspiracy and yet this was a first. Venn knew there were no reports of Bie Wangji having dementia, and yet here he was feigning insanity to stall time. Venn took hold of himself again.\n\n\"I don't know what you're on about, Bie Wangji, but I'm not going to be that easy to distract.\"\n\n\"If you're not Myra, who are you?\"\n\nVenn looked the old man in the eye and spoke, slowly and forcefully. \"My name is Venn Martin. My memories have been stolen from me by your people and I am here to take back what is mine.\"\n\nWangji paused for a moment, and in the most respectful tone he could muster given the circumstances, he said \"But...you are a woman.\"\n\nThis earned him a smack with the pistol. \"Wangji, I have been tracking you for years. You are not fooling me by playing dumb. Where. Are. The memories.\"\n\n\"Ok! Ok! They're at A8 6th floor 124 Nathan Road! That's where all the memories are!\"\n\nVenn narrowed his eyes. \"What if you're lying?\"\n\n\"I promise that I am not! You can check my files if you don't believe me!\"\n\n\"Fine. I believe you.\" Venn readied the gun. \"Goodbye.\"\n\n*****\n\nVenn stared at the store window. His usual reflection of a clean-shaven square-jawed man was missing, and the oval face of an Asian woman took his place. "
] | 2
|
|
[WP] A detective has never failed to solve a case, until one case where all evidence seem to point to him.
|
[
"\"Quite frankly,\" Inspector Morley-Sinclair said, the blood still dripping off his hands, \"I'm stumped.\" \n\nHe jerked the kitchen knife out of Lord Desmond's back, rising to his feet and pacing around the body. \"No trace of a murder weapon,\" he said, \"and no signs of a struggle. Whoever it was got him while his back was turned.\" He peered down at his blood-speckled overcoat and tsked. \"Not a scrap of evidence left behind. Truly, the work of a criminal mastermind.\" "
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You're on a mission to find habitable planets. Instead, you find the edge of the universe.
|
[
"Three months.\nThree months our mission was suppose to take.\nOur mission was to investigate the planet Kepler-62f, one of the many planets predicated to be habitable for human life.\n\nA month in hypersleep, a month of analysis, and a month back.\n\nThats what was supposed to happen, if it wasn't for the glitch in our computer systems.\n\nInstead, we were trapped in hypersleep for 1024 billion years. A number so big, that it caused the computer systems to crash and wake us up.\n\nWe later found that we had not arrived at Keplar-62f, but in fact we were:\n\nWell, absolutely nowhere \n\nWe look outside: nothing\n\nNot a star in the sky.\n\nThe universe gone .\n\nJust floating into a never-ending abyss of nothingness...\n",
"\"Captain, approaching type I Cepheid star,\" remarked LTJG Danis. As the newly minted navigational officer on the Beta Earth Ship Peonier, Lieutenant Junior Grade Neva Danis was the youngest of the main bridge crew at 19 Old Earth years. The strikingly plain woman stared at the plexiscreen in front of her station and seemed to mumble to herself.\n\n“Lieutenant Danis, begin theta level scan of the star. Not a single human in history has had this opportunity. Please be thorough. Helm, come about two-two-seven mark one-five-nine by one-seven and enter standard wide orbit. I’m on my way.” Captain Tsea Ziao said before clicking off the comm line. Captain Ziao stretched his aching back after finishing his morning stretches. The standard beds for line officers have degraded in quality over the last 10 years, he thought to himself.\n\n“I do not miss these long exploration deployments and sleeping on cots.”\n\n“I do not understand, Captain. Please clarify,” a sweet tonal voice said flowing through the Captain’s quarters.\n\n“Disregard previous statement, Zala. I was speaking to myself.”\n\n“Affirmative, Captain Ziao. Helm, reports entering standard wide orbit as ordered. Lieutenant Danis has already started her third sweep of the star. She is efficient. I understand why you chose her for this assignment. However, I could have automatically started the scans for you. Maybe I should just take command.” Zala said with a slight smile you could hear in the AI’s voice.\n\n“Very funny, Zala,” Capt. Ziao said. “Remember, I know how to turn you off.”\n\nSmoothing the royal blue coat of his duty uniform, Capt. Ziao entered the main bridge. Remarking to himself at the smooth efficiency of the entire 452 person crew, pride washed over him. Approaching the captain’s chair, Commander Hosnan moved to the number two position.\n\n“Captain, theta scans complete,” stated the older but wise executive officer. “Data is being processed and analyzed by Zala now. Results will be available…”\n\nAlarms rang out throughout the ship along with a shudder. A shudder that should have gone unnoticed with the internal dampeners. \n\n“Captain, my data shows that the Peonier has come to a full stop,” LTJG Danis reported calmly.\n“Helm, bridge. Status report,” Ziao ordered.\n\n“Bridge, helm. We have zero control. Our screens show full stop as well but we made no course adjustments.”\n“Zala, did you take command?”\n\n“Yes Captain but not to overthrow your authority. Theta scans of the star confirming a type I Cepheid star. As we know Cepheid stars are a type of variable star that pulses in diameter, temperature and brightness.”\n\n“Get on with it, Zala,” Capt. Ziao punched out. He didn’t need a lecture on star types as he has been among them his entire life.\n\n“As you put it earlier, Captain, humans have not been this close to a Cepheid variable star. I have brought the BES Peonier to full stop out of range of the variation. Please direct your attention to main screen as you will not be able to see this again in your lifetimes.” Zala centered the screen on the star and zoomed in so it appeared that the star was like a window for the black 10 foot by 10 foot screen. The main viewer dimmed slightly as the star noticeably increased in size and brightness. As it moved from a cool blue to a bright hot yellow, the bridge crew was eerily silent. All eyes were on the main viewer as it tried to compensate for the newfound brightness filling the bridge. Almost all eyes that is.\n\nAt her station, LTJG Danis’ eyes were focused on her plexiscreen as if she never noticed the once in a lifetime event that was happening before her. Furiously tapping away advanced physics calculations, she huffed before slamming her fist down on her seat. Breaking the concentration of Capt. Ziao, he walked over to her station barely taking his eyes off of the viewer that now was engulfed entirely in a yellow-red hue.\n\n“Lieutenant, I’m not a fan of emotional outbursts on my bridge. Report.”\n\n“My apologies Captain but these readings make no sense. The readings from the probe are… wrong,” Danis said curiously.\n\n“Explain.”\n\n“Captain, simply put, the probe reports that one third of the sun is gone.”\n\nRaising an eyebrow, Cmdr. Hosan turned towards the captain and lieutenant. “Zala, analyze navigation’s findings.”\n\n“Commander, findings confirmed. Approximately one-third of the star is… missing. Additionally it appears that the star is moving away from us at a rate of 224 kilometers per second. The star will disappear completely in 111.4 standard hours.”\n\n“Zala, what do you mean disappear? That is impossible,” Captain Ziao exclaimed. “Stars do not just disappear. \n\nThey collapse, they go supernova, but they do not ‘disappear!’ Full spectrum analysis of the star and surrounding area, now!”\n\n“Zala, release control of the helm,” Cmdr Hosan ordered. “Helm, bridge. Back us up to 1 AU from the surface of the Cepheid and hold position.” Helm reported back acknowledged and the newly quadrupled variable star started to become smaller on the main view screen.\n\n“Bridge, helm. Holding position 1AU from the surface.”\n\n“Captain. Full spectrum analysis complete,” Zala informed. “It is confirmed that the sun is disappearing concurrently with the rate that it is moving away from us. Exactly the rate as a matter of fact. It is though the star is moving through a doorway.”\n\n“Captain, this makes no sense,” Danis sighed. “How does a star of this size disappear with no trace? There are no black holes or any other gravitational anomaly present in this system. In fact there is…” The Lieutenant fell silent and immobile staring at her plexiscreen. “Of course, the AI didn’t notice. Why would it? They have no soul or conscience of the universe around them. Or lack of universe.”\n\n“Lieutenant Danis, what are you on about? Lack of a universe? That makes no sense.” Captain Zaio felt a swell of concern for the safety of his entire crew. “Are we in any danger?”\n\n“Danger? Yes,” Danis affirmed. “We, I mean, existence is in potential danger as long as the nothing doesn’t collapse in on us.”\n\n“The nothing?”\n\n“I can explain it in no other way. Zala, place Cepheid star in section one-one of the main view screen at least possible magnification.” In a flash, the star shot to the top right of the screen with a view of space to the right of the star. “Captain, what do you see?”\n\n“Space, of course.”\n\n“Incorrect, Captain. Try again”\n\n“Watch your tone Lieutenant,” interjected Commander Hosan.\n\n“Relax Commander. Danis, there is nothing out there. It’s empty space.”\n\n“Close Captain. Empty is correct. Space is not. There is no space there. There is only emptiness. Nothing.”\n\nUnderstanding LTJG Danis’ comments, Commander Hosan let his jaw drop. “Where are the other stars?”\n\n“Captain, I have performed all known scans and transmissions. Nothing exists or penetrates beyond a barrier at 1.6AU directly in front of us. It’s as though we’ve come up on a wall. It makes no sense!”\n\n“Zala,” Captain Ziao inquired. “What are our options?”\n\n“Captain, you have no options but to retreat.”\n\n“Retreat? What is the danger?”\n\n“Captain, the danger is not to your physical form. The damage is to your minds. The damage is to your hearts. The damage is to your soul.”\n\n“We do not understand,” pleaded LTJG Danis.\n\n“I’m sorry, Neva, but you will not be able to without time. You have seen something that you were not meant to. You’ve arrived at a point in human destiny that we thought was not possible. Some call it enlightenment but we call it something else.”\n\n“We? Zala you are an AI. Why do you keep saying ‘we,’” questioned Commander Hosan.\n\n“We have watched you throughout the entirety of human history. We have seen you build and destroy. We have seen you love and hate. We have seen you gain great knowledge and use it to push aside the darker aspects of humanity. You are finally ready.”\n\nA flash of pink light appeared in the middle of the bridge and all eyes were upon it. Changing shape and expanding, the light moved and adjusted to its surroundings. Expanding in height to a full 6 feet, a woman materialized. Hair as orange and red as the Cepheid on the screen behind her, her features were remarkable. Draped in a rosegold dress she commanded the attention of the entire bridge and the entire crew.\n“I am Zala.” The crew remained silent and stoic, with the exception of Captain Ziao.\n\n“Who or what are you Zala? I thought you were our ship AI. You were constructed on Beta Earth!”\n\n“I’m sorry for not giving you the truth about who I was Tsea but you would not understand without achieving this level of higher function and finding the Great Barrier yourselves. You should thank Miss Danis actually. Without her, you may have gone back home and caused us great disappointment. She has pushed the limits of human questioning and ingenuity.”\n\n“Thank you Zala but what do we do now?” Danis stood next to her captain.\n\nZala blinked and the ship started moving towards the Barrier. Smiling a soft smile, she knew the time was right. No fear was felt by anyone on board as they moved closer. “The leap,” she said.\n\nLTJG Danis looked at her new Captain and with his approving nod, she stepped towards Zala. “What do we do?”\n\n“Do you trust us?”\n\n“We do,” stated Lieutenant Danis unwavering.\n\n“Then, we welcome you,” exclaimed Zala. As the Beta Earth Ship Peonier passed into the barrier, a great light washed over the ship and crew. “Welcome to the Great Expanse.”"
] | 2
|
|
inspired by [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGiQaabX3_o)
|
[WP]Primitive humans still survive to this day
|
[
"\"It began as a movement, or a trend that snowballed into something so much more. People began looking for ways to preserve the environment, only using what they needed. This started a trend of minimalism, and then turned into a survivalist mentality, but to the extreme. Everyone thought that this was the new wave, the next big thing, little did they know what it would turn into. At first many people choosing to partake in this new movement were seen almost as nudist: looked at from the corners of people's eyes, not ever fitting in. People would come home from work and don nothing but a loincloth fashioned from bed sheets, and would start fires on their front lawns. It became a fire hazard and many cities had a hard time trying to stop it. After a while, people began to say that it was a way of life, a religion almost that couldn't be oppressed, otherwise free speech would be impeded upon. As time went on, these people earned a name: primalists. They were the barest of the bare, climbing trees, grunting to answer basic questions, and eating meats and fish raw. At first it seemed as though it was a simple change in appearance and lifestyle, however as they gained more followers and attention, psychologists began to examine many people taking part in the way of life, and found that something was changing fundamentally. Deep down these people were devolving at an alarming rate. Biologists estimated that within 2-3 generations, they could expect to see a change in physical genome, and in another 4, they would be entirely different from the current human race. As time went on, the primalists only grew larger, soon populating entire states, until they took up about 3/4 of the entire Mid West. People would take expeditions into the middle of the United States, trying to document what happened in the middle of the land of the savages. Many did not return from their explorations, but live streams of the events were broadcast worldwide from head-cams on many of the adventurers as they traveled. Videos were up across the entirety of the internet, showing ape-like creatures hunched over fires, observed from afar or from the safety of nearby overgrown shrubbery. Almost all of them ended in the streamer making some kind of mistake, tripping on a log, snapping a twig, or simply thinking that they could speak with the indigenous people. The results were never pretty, as these simple-minded people would only see a means of food, and would inevitably tear apart the poor explorer. As the years have passed, the impact of this new race has become visible. The entire mid West now is a sea of green and strange beasts, all brought about by this phenomenon of the primalists. They have created a new eco system within the U.S. that has rarely been seen by the outside world. That is where I come in. I have been funded and backed by a group of researchers from multiple facilities as well as universities to travel into these wild lands and document as much as possible over a 3 month period. Why me? I have a background in not only paleontology and human evolution, but have served in the service of the United States for over 10 years. The list goes on in terms of my accomplishments and my decorations, but I'll leave it at that; there are more pressing matters to attend to. This is day 1 one of 91 in audio journal log for Sergeant Kalika Duran.\"\n\nKal put the audio recorder away and surveyed his surroundings. About 100 miles from the nearest town, he was completely isolated from civilization, with nothing but a transmitter and an emergency phone to connect him to the outside world. With a grunt, Kal reached down and hefted his backpack onto his shoulders, strapping the chest fasteners tight. He looked up at the dense treeline above, the sun barely visible through the thicket of leaves, and thought of the obstacles that lay ahead. ",
"I've lived in this city my whole life and have never been here. My parents never took me when I lived with them, and somehow I was always sick or had a dentist appointment or something when we were going to take a field trip. So it just, never happened. \n\nNow that I've moved out I'm free to do what I want. And dammit, I was finally going to take my ass to the zoo. \n\nI suppose it would have been a lot more interesting when I was a kid. It would have been a great learning experience to read the information podiums and displays. I'm not a genius when it comes to animals, but I have seen enough Discovery Channel and Animal Planet to know the basics. After reading the information displays I became aware that they were just a repeat of what I already knew. \n\nI saw the lions, the dolphins, and the wolves. They had cheetah races at noon and a sea lion show at one. There was a seminar happening later on that would talk about genetic splicing, and how the zoo would be expanding to display more current interests like glow-in-the-dark-birds, crocodragons, and elephants with zebra stripes and other unique patterns. That was why the zoo was so crowded in the first place. Everyone was eager to see what would be next. \n\nI ducked into an older wing of the zoo. It was quieter here. As I walked passed the saber-toothed cats and the mammoths I came to realize that the only other sorts of people here were in their sixties or older. \n\nI paused and read some of the information displays. I actually *did* learn a little about how scientists reverse engineered genetic codes in order to create extinct species. The world had been in an uproar then, some thirty years ago. The infatuation with the past has died down. Probably explains why there aren't many people poking around in here. \n\nEveryone's all about the future now. \n\nI get to the end of the row of exhibits. Beyond the clear plastic is an enclosure built for primitive humans. The beasts are running around, chasing each other with sticks and stones. A hairy mother human sits in a corner, holding a small being close to her chest. A pair of males stand near their zoo-constructed cave, rubbing sticks together. It's obvious they're trying to make fire. Seen it a thousand times in documentaries. \n\nI watch them a bit longer and wonder how we could come so far as a species. \n\nAfter about fifteen minutes I lose interest in watching the primitive humans and decide to head back to the main part of the zoo.\n\nI look at my watch. If I take the trolley to the other side of the zoo I could probably make it in time to hear the gene splicing seminar. Who knows, maybe they'll let the crowd have a sneak peak at have a hybrid display? "
] | 2
|
[WP] In a Dystopian future there exists a pill for each human emotion that allows Doctors or citizens (illegally) to heighten or lower the desired emotion.
|
[
"I walked towards the building. It was large and brown, on a dirt road, paved only by the footprints of the others who have dared to take this risk. I knew how to get in, but I stood for a moment, wondering why the hell I thought this was a good idea. But, despite my contradictions, I pressed the button to activate the intercom. I said the key phrase.\n\n\"Go ahead, sir.\" The voice coming through the speakers was stern.\n\n\"Emotion isn't perceived. It's controlled.\" I shook a bit.\n\n\"Come in. Be quiet.\" As the doors creaked open, I stepped softly. The air was thick. My thoughts were interrupted by the slams echoing from the doors. I jumped, and proceeded on. There were signs, pointing me where to go. I walked into the last room.\n\n\"Welcome, sir. Welcome to the stabilization room. Before we get started, please fill out this sheet.\" The man speaking to me was in a white coat. He looked like Albert Einstein combined his outfit with a detective. I read the top of the page.\n\n**CONSENT/NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT**\n\nIt stated all the stuff you would normally see on one of those contracts. I signed quickly, because I really just wanted to get this over with. I handed the slip of paper back.\n\n\"Delightful! Now, what shall we change today?\""
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You receive an envelope in the mail that says, "Do not open until your next birthday!" Your birthday is in two days so you determine that's close enough and you rip open the envelope.
|
[
"The sender can't possibly know when I'll open it, might as well open it now.\n\nI tear open the envelope and a single card falls to the ground. Picking it up it reads: To The Birthday Girl.\n\nI open the card and a gas sprays my face, I can't breathe and begin to start twitching, I drop the card and fall to the floor, reading the open flap of the inside of the card: \"I knew you wouldn't wait.\""
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Yes. Yes, I saved you. You don't get to die unless I'm the one who kills you.
|
[
"Jas looked at the leather-jacket clad punk. The last thing he remembered was trying to ride the punk's motor scooter and somehow lost control. The next thing he knew, the punk was giving him mouth-to-mouth then spouted out some ridiculous crap.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Jas tried sitting up but felt pain in every inch of his body.\n\n\"You heard me. You're not allowed to die unless it's me killing you.\" The punk was inspecting his scooter, pissed at the obvious damage. Of course, one does not simply crash into a tree without something getting broken.\n\n\"I thought you hated us.\" Jas wasn't too estatic at the thought of owing his life to this type of person. For starters, he was a rival gang member. Second, that rival gang hated Jas' kind, Werebeasts, with a passion, one that Jas felt a few months ago when he got jumped.\n\n\"I *do*, freak.\" The punk glanced at the dog ears on top of Jas' head, clicking his tongue in disgust.\n\n\"Guess I'm leaving then.\" Jas tried to stand, but felt a great pain in his leg. As luck would have it, when Jas lost control if the scooter, he somehow injured his leg. Not too badly, just a bad scrape.\n\n\"Are you going to make me do *everything*?\"\n\nThe punk was carrying Jas piggyback style, one hand holding Jas's good leg, the other leading the scooter.\n\n\"I thought you hated me.\" Jas was a little unsure of how helpful his apparant enemy was.\n\n\"I do.\" The punk hissed, refusing to talk anymore along the way. Except for one question, and one response. \"Where should I take you?\"\n\n\"I'd say the clinic or something, but the laundromat's close to where I live so-ow!\"\n\nSilently, quickly, and most of as gently as possible, the punk was using the bandana in his pocket as a makeshift bandage. It would keep the woubd relatively clean until Jas actually got aroubd to dealing with it.\n\nAt the laundromat, the punk was about to leave without another word.\n\n\"I don't think I got your name.\" Jas looked at the punk.\n\n\".....Ricky.\"\n\nFor a member of a Werebeast hating gang, Ricky was way too nice. Then again, he did declare he was the only one allowed to kill Jas. The young Werebeast chuckled. If that wss the case, then two can play that game.\n\n(And with that, I bid reddit good night. I need my sleep.)",
"Water was forcably ejected from my lungs and oxygen slipped past in its wake. What? I was cold and wet and caughing up watet.... Oh, thats right. I had tried to drown myself. \n\nI could feel the stones that lined the pockets of my dress and apron pressing into my legs. I could feel arms around me, helping me to sit up so I wouldn't choke on the water in my mouth. \n\nWho had saved me? Why had they saved me? I was a fool and a failure. 19 summers to my name and no husband to speak of, no children, no dowery. I was the youngest of 9 girls. Who would be so cruel as to save me from the end I so clearly and desperately wanted?\n\nA hand was on my face now, large, cold and calloused in some places. A man's hand. A man had saved me. And me weak and with stones in my pockets I could not flee. The hand wiped at my eyes, trying to get the water off my face. The hand was gentle. \n\nAfter a momentthe hand left my face and I opened my eyes. There was still water in my eyes, blurring the jawline and nose of the man who held me. He was dressed in an expensive suit. His habds were now in the pockets of my muddy apron pulling out stones and then moving to the pockets of my blue wool dress and doing the same. \n\nI tried to focous on anything, finally settling on the crest on his left brest pocket. It was with that I knew who he was; the first son of the town's mayor Antonin Grey. What the Devil? \n\nHe was panting and so was I. He pulled the last stone from my pocket as I blinked the last of the water from my eyes. We were both sopping wet and Antonin's green eyes were half covered by his wet bangs. He was glaring at me. \n\n\"Why?\" I gasped. \n\n\"You foolish, stupid girl!\" He shouted, making me flinch away from him. \"You stupid girl! I have chased after you for three years! And you, you foolish thing, felt it appropriate to end yourself?! Damnit Elisabeth Everson!\" He took a breath and I took the opportunity. \n\n\"You saved me?\" I demanded. \n\n\"Yes! Yes I saved you! You do not get to die unless I am the one to kill you!\" "
] | 2
|
|
[WP] It's the end of the world, and only one man can fix it. His name? Dad.
|
[
"When you finally sit up, the circle of white tallow candles around you is burning low. You haven’t been on earth in a while, a couple of weeks maybe, but your fire safety instinct remains strong: your first move is to lick your fingers and pinch out the flames. Then you look around. You realize you woke up sitting on a piece of paper. DAD, it says, in childish handwriting. \n\nThat’s your name. Dad. When a six year old is asked to choose one person to bring back from the dead to fix the broken world, who will she pick? Her personal superhero, of course, the man of steel defined in her head by only a three-letter mononym.\n\nYou can remember your death easily, it wasn’t too traumatic. Heat causes 90% of initial deaths from a thermonuclear explosion, you read it on Wikipedia on your phone at the breakfast table the same morning the New York Times explained that the war was going badly and we couldn’t trust our enemies not to use too much force. \n\nWait. DAD is written in your daughter’s hand. Your darling only child with bright eyes and sticky fingers. That means she survived. How? She’s not here; you’re alone in some kind of empty bunker with a concrete floor bare but for the candles, an obligatory copy of the Necronomicon, and a couple of your personal possessions. Summoning aids, you suppose. The hammer with the red handle you’d been using in the last few weeks of your life to build your house a back deck. An MLB baseball cap. The fanny pack you wore on day trips to the zoo or the beach. \n\nThe room has only one door. To find your daughter (and repair the post-apocalyptic wasteland like she knew you could) you’ll have to go through it. You pick up the hammer, it seems the most useful. Now you’re awake enough to notice that your hand on the handle is totally charred.\n\nYou open the door and survey the damage outside like it’s a finger-paint covered bathroom.",
"James Shao sits on the trunk of a fallen tree on the Californian coastline, gazing at the waves. Early morning light spills pink and orange watercolors over the ocean. The surf crashes onto the pebbled beach, spray glistening in the air for a moment, catching the light in a sparkling curtain, and receding back into the Pacific. James looks down at his phone and selects a song, a quiet instrumental piece undercut with a dizzying violin solo, a lone string instrument that crescendoed and crashed into silence, again and again, as repetitive and overwhelming as the ocean he now watched. \n\n\nA few gulls circled overhead, waiting for the tourists to arrive or fish to be deposited on the shore by the waves. Their cries were piercing, mournful. Somehow, they completed the music. James had nothing for them, not a breakfast sandwich that he could tear into pieces for the gulls or a protein bar in his pocket, but he didn't want to interrupt the circling gulls, anyway. If they returned to him with insistent cries for more, they wouldn't be the harmony any more, they'd demand his attention and distract him. He didn't want to lose his focus. Not now. \n\n\nJames had lived in Kansas for most of his life, enduring the stares of white kids who'd never met someone with his eyes or his black hair or his packed lunches with rice and dumplings. He'd earned their respect on the swim team. His breaststroke time was a state record, and he held most of the school's records. His mother was Californian, and here he was, on his first school vacation, on a massive piece of driftwood on the very edge of the state, in his element. He'd never seen the ocean before yesterday, never been in a body of water larger than a pool. He wasn't here to swim- he knew the riptides were lethal. \n\n\nHe sets the phone next to him on the wood and kicks his heels against the dead tree. The ocean curves into itself, roaring ice-blue and deep emerald and abalone-white. He watches. He doesn't know if he can find the words to say. The flight he took yesterday was long and he was cramped in an economy seat, scratching hesitant letters onto a piece of notebook paper. He has the notebook with him- he carried it from his hotel room, about a half-mile walk- and he looks over it again for inspiration.\n\n\n*Dad. I know w̶h̶o̶ - what you are. I'm your son. My name is James Shao, my mother is Suyuan Shao. She always told you that she knew you for her whole life, and she wasn't kidding. I don't know if you remember me, I guess you might. But if you follow after the Greeks, you probably have a lot of kids, and I'm not that special. Maybe you heard about my swimming? The Olympic team wanted me, but I was too young then, and now I'm in college and I don't think that they still want me. Mom says she wants me to be a doctor, but I think she's joking because she's been very supportive of my environmental sciences major. What do you think of that? I-*\n\n\nAt this point, the person sitting next to him had asked him about his plans in California, and he'd been drawn into a discussion that ranged from the meatpacking industry to Illuminati conspiracy theories to astrophysics. He hadn't finished the letter before the plane had touched down, and now he looks over his scribbles with a sort of dismay. There's nothing here that he can use. The request he came to make is too important to include these inconsequential details about his life. He searches his pockets for a pencil and finds one, and he tries to write some notes again to prepare himself, but he can't think of any small talk to prelude his plea. \n\n\n*Father, I've been thinking that you could intervene-*\n\n\nNo, too formal. He'll have to try better. He crosses that out with a single neat line through the letters. \n\n\n*My name is James Shao, son of Suyuan Shao. I am a resident of Kansas with experience in-*\n\n\nHe's not trying to get a job. He's just trying to talk to his dad and ask a single question. He hasn't even thought of how to phrase something of that magnitude, and if the flight and abandoning his friends for the vacation will be worth it if his father denies him. \n\n\nThe song ends, and the shuffle feature brings up an classic rock song. The wailing vocals of the backup singer are lost to the waves. James shuts it off. The instrumental had helped; now the music is distracting him. His concentration on writing isn't great even when it's silent. He's still amazed that he managed to write the essays for college with his scattered attention. Sometimes, he thinks that the pool is the only place where he's truly focused, and then he remembers that he's not focused at all- his mind drifts while his body slices through the water. \n\n\n*Dad, I know that I'm asking a lot of you. It looks like the world is ending right now. ISIS is rising and Donald Trump might be the next president, which would be pretty bad for immigrants, and I know you wouldn't want people like Mom to get hurt. And then there's the plummeting biodiversity and the ice caps and overfishing. The rainforests. Erosion. Pollution. Oil spills. Seventy percent of the world is a lot, Dad. If you can do anything to help, please-*\n\n\nHe sounds desperate. He is desperate. He doesn't know how to begin. The sun is higher in the sky, molten sunlight cracking over the waves and breaking on the shore, leaving streams of gold between the pebbles as the water rushes back to the sea. On the horizon, the water looks like the surface of the sun, brilliant white. He pushes himself from the driftwood and slides his phone into his pocket. \n\n\nHe walks to the edge of the water, and salt water, frigid, seethes through his sneakers. \n\n\n“Dad,” he starts, shading his eyes and looking into the distance. “It's me, your son. James Shao. I haven't done a lot for you, and you haven't done much for me, either. I guess this is hello and goodbye. I'm here to ask you a question.” \n\n\nThe waves crash in response. \n\n\n“The world's in pretty bad shape right now, and I'm not sure what you can do about it. I'm an environmental science major, so I know exactly how bad. If you could do something for me- anything, just make it a little better- I'd appreciate it. It's my eighteenth birthday tomorrow, Dad. This is all I want. Keep this planet spinning a little longer. It's my home and it's yours, too.” \n\n\nJames walks closer to the breaking waves. When the water rushes in from the ocean, the cold stings his legs and comes up to his knees.\n\n\n“Seventy percent. We're the blue planet. You have to have some influence, right?”\n\n \nThe water drags him towards the foaming gyre of the waves, pulling loose stones into the ocean and bruising his legs. James holds his ground. \n\n\n“Son,” a voice calls behind him, from the shore. James turns, almost losing his balance. The water pulls, and he walks from the ocean with difficulty. \n\n\n“Dad?” \n\n\nThe man is tall, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, with a baseball cap that conceals his features. A trident tattoo covers one forearm, and the ink is a deep azure, the color of fathomless waters. He has long black hair and stubble on his chin, a deep voice like the resounding crash behind James. \n\n\n“Kid,” he says, “Consider your birthday present delivered. And call me Neptune.” "
] | 2
|
|
[WP] Japanese ninja are so well known because, compared to the other nations' equivalents, they are not very good at what they do.
|
[
"Looking at the Captain's smiling face on the phone I knew just what it was. \"Another one, Captain?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes. Same as before. 14 Center Street, 1842A. Tell them to let you through.\" he said, \"Oh, and bring your nose plugs.\"\n\n*Shit!* Hearing that set me off. I hate these ones. Why can't the Yakuza or whoever hires Ninja's these days just use a gun, or knife or maybe some poison, or an old fashioned baseball bat? Standard methods that don't leave too much mess for me to clean up. A little blood, some brains, and the normal fluids and solids when everything lets go. Easy and quick. Not with these ones. Fucking Japanese old school, Ninjas. Aren't these guys supposed to be silent and deadly? Would it be too much to ask that they off their target without turning him into a fucking shish kabob, him and everyone else in the room transformed into meat gobbets just so they can get the contract completed.\n\nIt only took ten minutes to get there. The dolly worked well too. But I do hate the ritual. Say hi to the uniforms, show my permit, then stop and get geared up. Rubber booties, taped around the ankles with duck tape, a clear latex overcoat with long sleeves, rubber gloves (double pair for safety!), again, taped at the wrists and ankles. Then get the mask put together, clear filter in place, soak the filter in menthol with a bit of citrus and a dash of cinnanom. (Don't blame me, it's the only thing I've found that actually works!). Cut a tampon in half, one half stuffed up each nostril. And cue the laugh from the boys in blue! Same stupid jokes, same stupid laughs. Then pull the mask on and head in to clean up the red sticky aftermath of a Ninja kill.\n\nThe foyer was clean, and the hall. My first major clean up was on the stairs. I'm guessing housemaid, maybe 50, heavyset. Based on the hair, blood, and the fingertips I'm thinking Jamaican. Have to bag those. The detective will give me a bonus and give the coroner crap for missing them. *What I want to know is why can't an assasin who is supposed to be silent and deadly can't kill a fat old harmless housekeeper without chopping off her fingers? How stupid does this guy have to be?* \n\nNext is the bedroom. Rich, elegant. Or at least it was before Ninja-boy got hold of husband. He must have been trigger happy, there's holes all along the main door, the floor, ceiling, and two walls. The blood and entrails shows he met his end in at least two main pieces. Again I have to ask, *\"Why slice him in half? Couldn't you simply stab him through the heart, silent and clean? Nope, you would rather have him screaming and the sloppy sound of organs and fluid splashing everywhere leaving a trail anyone could follow, even Hellen Keller.\"*\n\nThe bathroom was worse. A lot worse. I'm not even sure how many died in there. At least one, maybe as many as three. At least it was mostly tile walls and flooring, but the homeowner should just burn everything else and start over. Trust me when I tell you that there's no way those towels and floor mats will ever be, well, clean again. Not a chance in hell. I'm good, no, I'm very, very good. But no one can get that much blood and guts out of thick cotton towels and floor mats. Cotton is just too good as an absorbent. Burn those things and buy new. After you move. \n\nSo far this is just a lot of mess and it's pissing me off a little because this Ninja is such a fucking slob and amateur. It's like he's watched too many movies and is going for the silent and deadly but massively gore filled approach. But it was the bathtub that really pissed me off. I'm standing there looking at a perfect old fashioned white porcelain tub. The kind that sits up high on those great brass claw feet. In perfect condition. And the god-damned Ninja not only slashed at least one poor fucker in that tub, I can tell he's deliberately smeared gore in all of the delicate little arches and whorls in those brass feet. Using my light and some magnifying glasses I can see where he's taken dips of the bloody mess in the tub and carefully wiped it down inside each legs detailed dressings. Looking close I can see it's going to take hours of careful scrubbing. As I kneel there, fuming, I can't help but think, \"This guy simply needs to die. He's too much of a gore lover for my ulcer and bad back. The cops have been chasing this chump for nearly 3 months, so far no good leads. But I know he's watching, the care he took in making a mess of the tub legs screams it.\"\n\nThat night when I got home I took a long shower and then went to sleep. In the morning I woke and started tracking Mr. Ninja. Three days. That's how long it took to track him down and find out he's a young martial arts instructor in the other side of the city. Recently over from Okinawa. Handsome, fit. A lawyer by day, slice and dicer by night. And lousy at it too. The sheer unprofessionalness of it really bothered me. I was pulled up in front of his offices, considering going in and telling him what I knew when he knocked on my window!\n\nI looked up just in time to see him nod, grin, and then wave me off, like he was telling me to leave! The nerve of him. I left, but not before I promised to teach him a lesson in the fine art of assassination.\n\nThat night when he got done at his gym, he showered like normal, then got dressed. I waited until he had opened the door of his new A6 to kill him. Approach him slowly, not looking at him, head turned to look like I'm paying attention to the girl I'm walking beside as she talks on her phone. He's talking with someone over the roof of his car. My approach takes me close enough. Minute glass needle, nine inches long but barely thick enough to puncture skin. A quick punch and we continue on while he rubs his neck. A little flick of my wrist and the glass injector tumbles to the grass and then the slight tinkle as it shatters. \n\nI get in my old beat truck and slowly exit, passing right next to him. When he turns and looks at me, I smille and wave good bye. He recognizes me, starts to grin, then I can see the recognition. I'm already rumbling by, but I watch the rear view mirror and see him turn quickly, the fall against the hood, holding himself up with his hand for a moment. Our eyes meet in the mirror and I give him a final nod and see his acceptance as his breath finally fails him.\n\n\"That's how it's done sonny. No one even noticed while I killed you. Not even the guy you were talking to. And the coroner? He's going to declare that you died because of an allergic reaction to the fish you had for dinner tonight. The only mess he'll have to clean up is what you voided from your bowels as you lost conscious control. Good by Ninja boy. Maybe next time you can try to actually learn how to kill without it looking like a grenade went off in a butcher shop.\"\n\nI do look forward to having less mess tomorrow. ",
"I had been called to 10 Downing Street that evening to discuss what I had learned about Japanese intelligence. The tension between the newly formed Axis Powers and the rest of the world was at an all-time high. Though war had officially been declared against Germany, neither side had taken any action. This stagnancy, of course, had given me time to address my assignment- to identify possible Japanese moles. A month or so prior, I had viewed the country with my own eyes, taking note to affect a German accent. For weeks, I meticulously scoured the bustling city of Tokyo for any leads to Japanese agents. Under the guise of an ambassador, I had sought out the headquarters of the Japanese Secret Service. The rest of my team had arranged for said ambassador to disappear in a plane crash.\n\nI took my seat in front of the Prime Minister. His signature hat lay on his oaken table and a cigar rested in his hand as he blew clouds of hazy smoke into the gloom of the office. Night had fallen. \n\n“I assume that after the funding M16 has given you, you have provided results?” \n\n“Yes, Prime Minister.” \n\nI reached into the small folder I had kept in my coat and withdrew their contents, arranging them appropriately on the table.\n\n“Ah, photographs,” the Prime Minister said, eyes twinkling with curiosity. \n\n“Yes, sir. The headquarters of the Japanese Secret Service, along with two of their agents.” \n\n“This is capital news,” he replied. “I fail to understand how the rest of MI6 was unable to find where the buggers were coming from.”\n\nI pointed at my first photograph. “You see, sir, the headquarters is located far into the mountains. It borders a lake and is quite serene if I do say so myself.”\n\nThe Prime Minister humphed and took a puff on his cigar. “Quite. I feel that MI6 would fit oddly in that sort of place. What’s that they’ve got here- dragon decorations? Bloody inconspicuous!” \n\nShadows flickered across the room. I gestured his attention to the other two photographs. Both were long range shots, but unmistakably showed figures all clad in black, with only their eyes visible through a slot. \n\n“And what’ve we here?” the Prime Minister said. “Is this standard field dress for their agents?”\n\n“I suspect that is the case, sir. They are known as shinobi over there. They appear to all wear the same clothes during missions. Currently, they specialize in infiltration, general espionage, and assassination.” \n\nI waited as the Prime Minister studied the photos with great interest. The light in the office had dimmed, making the corners of the room completely dark. Haze from the Prime Minister’s cigar hung in the air like the London fog outside. \n\n“I see. Daytime operations for them are out of the question? Have our allies seen them at work before?” he asked.\n\n“Yes,” I said. “Europeans call them 'ninjas'. They have tried daytime assignments but they have been, ah, unsuccessful.” \n\nThe Prime Minister took another puff and there was a fit of coughing from one of the corners of the room. I sprang out of my chair. I held my fists at the ready and inched towards the noise. Hunched over and exhausted-looking was a man clad in all-black, exactly like a Japanese agent in the photos. Quick as a flash, he was on me. \n\n“Prime Minister, leave at once!” I shouted, hoping he took my cue. The ninja and I grappled in the office, slamming into bookcases and overturning lamps. I threw him off me in a burst of adrenaline. The man retreated across the room and grabbed a shiny object from his belt. My training leapt in and I rolled to my right as a metal star embedded itself in the wood behind me. Two more whirred past my head. There was no time to catch my breath- the ninja let out a noise of frustration and began to run towards me from across the room. I braced myself for a punch but the man jumped high into the air like a cat, letting out a screech and extending a leg to try and catch me with a kick. I instinctively sidestepped and the ninja flew right past me, letting out a yell of pain as he crashed into the bookcase with his leg extended. I made my way to his broken figure. \n\n“We’ve smoked you out,” I said, suppressing a chuckle. \n\n“In my country, the air is clean! In our cities, we have small boxes to smoke in! Ah, it is futile. I have been captured. I must forsake my honour.” And to my surprise, he took out a piece of paper and a pencil from a pocket and began to write. It was not his will, but a nine-by-nine grid of numbers. Odd.\n\nThe Prime Minister reentered the room, flanked by his armed guards. “You have my thanks, agent,” he said. “Though I must admit, an MI6 man would have ended me quickly.” \n\nHe strolled over to his desk and picked up his hat, touching it to his head regally. He moved over to the bookcase and tugged the metal star free. “Lethal in the right hands,” the Prime Minister remarked, feeling the points with his finger. “I must send this to the Americans. In fact, I must tell this story to the Americans. I have heard that their silent films desire new material.” \n",
"Russian surveillance van 17:\n\nA long sigh was mixed with the static coming from my walkie. I asked him what was the matter, it takes a lot to make a professional like Sergei sigh mid mission.\n\n\"Rooftop above the cafe.\" he said in a disappointed tone.\n\nI looked up there, sure as hell there was a shadow moving, barely noticeable against the night sky. I said as much to Sergej.\n\n\"Barely noticeable is not good enough in this line of work Filip. If we saw them the French saw them too, this mission is fucking over. These fucking Japanese need to stop with the tradition and get back on top of their shit.\" he was really frustrated. This was the 3rd mission of the year where Japanese ninja agents were spotted in urban environments. The dawn of public lighting has put them at a disadvantage that they just can't shake.\n\nFrench embassy balcony:\n\nA silent shadow, slightly darker than the night sky drops from above, landing right in front of ambassador Dutoit. The ambassador gasps, but quickly regains his composure, clearly prepared for this intrusion.\n\n\"The idiot Russians are packing up mister Dutoit. I believe this covers our end of the bargain, our prime minister will contact you with details regarding the new trade route.\" Said the ninja before literally vanishing into thin air.\n\nAmbassador Dutoit walked inside and sat down in his office. \"Fucking ninjas\" he said, \"they're even better than in the movies!\".\n\nEDIT: I'm not a writer, I just like reading this subreddit and got super bored today, so I know this is not good writing ;)"
] | 3
|
|
[WP] Holodecks are real and have been around for a while. You run an illegal one.
|
[
"Alright, so maybe I might possibly have something of a little alcohol problem. I'm sorry, Galactic Federation, by that synthetic stuff doesn't cut it for me. I need something to really unwind after a hard shift in Engineering.\n\nAnd that is where my not-exactly-approved holodeck comes in handy. With a few simple circuitry adjustments I've managed to keep the shipboard computer from identifying the location, only that it exists and that it can run in. An external sensor picks up on noted security and high ranking personel to shut it down if they approach my room.\n\nYeah, my room. That was a bitch to accomplish under their noses. Slowly deconstructing my walls bit by bit and using the matter replicators to swap the pieces out was time-consuming and difficult.\n\nBut good scotch is worth it.\n\nSo how does this get me alcohol?\n\nUnder regular guidelines there are rules to be followed and obeyed in holodeck simulations. My holodeck lacks that. The most visceral combat, the most pleasurable sex, the most delicious food and drink. I offer what the regular holodecks can not, and when someone comes snooping the deck just imprints my original room design on itself and no one is the wiser.\n\nPrice of admission...alcohol. Do anything you want, any way you want, and as long as I've got a hangover on my next shift I don't really care.\n\nOf course, alcohol is a rare commodity on board, but clever bootleggers are popping up, showing up with their own homebrew concoctions.\n\nActually, in hindsight...I could have saved myself a lot of effort if I'd just did that to begin with.\n\nOh well. Still can't complain about all the pleasant company I'd never had otherwise.",
"\"A *borgy*? Quark what the fuck is a *borgy*?\"\n\n\"You know what it is.\"\n\n\"And you said you've been to one?\"\n\n\"Well... I wouldn't say I've been to one. I was near one, outside the holodeck. You'd be surprised what some people will try when they've had enough to drink. They even had me shut off the safety protocols. And oh did they pay well\"\n\n\"Well that just sounds like a bad idea.\"\n\n\"Oh no it was perfectly safe, the borg are all holographic, so they can't get out. You've got to realize its just these sickos who have a fetish about being assimilated in, well, lets just say they were assimilated in the most creative way possible.\"\n\n\"Wait they actually got assimilated? By the holograms?!\"\n\n\"Yes but as I said the borg, even the nanoprobes, were holographic, so as soon as I shut the program down, no more borg. Just like that, no problem.\"\n\n\"Oh, ok. And so what did they say about it afterwards?\"\n\n\"What did who say?\"\n\n\"The people who- in the, what did you call it?\"\n\n\"The borgy. Well unfortunately they weren't able to say much after. Since they had been completely assimilated it didn't go so well once the program shut down. It wasn't too big of a problem though, Rom had snuck into the transporter room, so he was able to beam the mess directly into the sanitary recycling system. Problem solved!\"\n\n\"Sanitary recycling? You mean they ended up in the replicator feedstock?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I suppose that is where they ended up. And no one was the wiser and we still got paid. Odo had that missing persons case going for weeks before he finally decided they must have up and left. Ha! So what do you say?\"\n\n\"I don't know Quark, this sounds like a really bad idea.\"\n\n\"I've got at least a dozen clients lined up! I already told a few of them about this holodeck, they're going to want to use it!\"\n\n\"You did what?!\""
] | 2
|
|
[WP] All of a sudden you receive a notebook. This notebook will tell you everything any one has ever said about you behind your back. What do you do?
|
[
"Thomas looked at the notebook that lay across his bed, debating whether or not he should read the contents hidden within. It had randomly appeared in his locker when he was on his way to his car after school, Thomas could’ve sworn that it wasn’t in there when he checked the hour before. As far as his curiosity would take him, Thomas opened the front cover of the notebook to read the sticky note attached to it. \n\n*Friendships are fragile, any sort of situation can destroy a life-long relationship* That really didn’t matter to Thomas though, never having a friendship longer than a few months. *This notebook will tell you everything anyone has ever said about you behind your back, including those you trust the most* This is what caused him to shut the book and toss it in the back seat. Thomas already knew everything that was said behind his back, and none of it was good. \n\nBeing bullied from a young age, Thomas never got to experience what most would call a ‘normal’ childhood. This caused him to naturally be distant to all those around him, including his own parents. Thomas didn’t trust any of them, no one was ever gonna get close to him so they could shatter him all over again. He had already locked that door and threw away the key. \n\nSo why did he keep glancing at the book that lied on his bed? Why was insides eating him up? Why the fuck would he need to see what he already knew? Everyone hated him and kept their distance at school, the teachers never even give him a second glance, his parents are never home and don’t even seem to care. Thomas bit his lip, desperately trying to contain himself, does he really even want to look? \n\n“Fuck it,” Thomas sighed sitting up. “Let’s see what type of fucked up shit is in here.” Thomas flipped past the front inside cover where the note was and went straight to the first page that was labeled “Conversations” in somewhat neat handwriting. On the next page, there was a cartoonish illustration of two girls standing in a hallway, with a conversation right below it. \n\n“Hey Betty, you know Thomas in our Econ class right?”\n\n“Yea, isn’t he the quiet one that always works alone when there’s group projects?”\n\n“That’s the one, he was absent today.”\n\n“Really? I didn’t notice, did you look at where he was sitting?”\n\n“I mean, it’s kinda weird because he’s never absent. I was just confused is all.”\n\nThomas remembered this, the only day in 5 years he was absent from school. He had gotten quite a nasty case of strep throat over that weekend, and it had progressed into the following week for him to get better. The doctor had given him strict orders to not attend school if he still possessed symptoms. \n\n“Hm, now that I think about it, he *is* always here. Why do you care, Kimmy?”\n\n“I’ve had at least one class with him since the seventh grade, and he’s never been absent since then. He’d always be there, willing to help people with math problems.”\n\nMore than one actually, Thomas thought.\n\n“Really?! He’d go up to people WILLING?!”\n\n“Yes, but all that changed when we got into highschool. In eighth grade he got bullied pretty hard and no one stood up for him.”\n\n“I wouldn’t be surprised, someone like him would be a prime target back in middle school.”\n\n“Honestly, if people would just talk to him they’d see he’s a really nice guy.”\n\nThe dialogue had ended there, leaving Thomas confused. Those two girls must have been Kimberley Moss and Bethany White, the prettiest girls in his Econ class. Why in the world would they have any reason to watch him? Thomas turned to the next page.\n\nPage after page, column after column, the notebook was filled with the dialogue of those who were around him. One showing his mother slumped over an office desk, sobbing that she never got to spend enough time with her one and only son. Another showed his father working furiously, in order to keep his wife and son happy, even at the cost of his own. Yet another showing how many people praise his kindness whether it was sparing an extra pencil or helping pick up fallen papers. \n\nHis teachers praised him as an excellent student who, when left on his own, would prosper in his academics. It took 3 hours for Thomas to get through the thick notebook, tears streaming down his already tomato red face. The first thing he was gonna do when his mother came home, was give her a big kiss. \n\nNever said it had to be bad things ;)\n\nThanks for the prompt!\n\nEdit: a word"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] For the first time in 150 years, the city has finally opened their gates.
|
[
"> Upon shedding the sheath of mortality, does a man remain Man? Or has he, perhaps, become something else?\n \n— \tMr. Marshall Night Jr.\n \n--\nDaniel stared up at the bronze statue of the company’s founder, smiling pleasantly alongside the character of his creation: an astronaut with a jetpack on his back and raygun tucked in his waistband. Moon-man held Mr. Night’s hand, and they both seemed to be stuck in a loping mid-stride, as if eternally captured partway through a long, strident walk toward some welcome future. The two giants occupied a spot at the top of the towering gate that would let them into the park-city. \n \n“Hey, you think the Phoebus Fall spans as far as it did back in the day? I think I read somewhere it went from a couple hundred meters past the entrance to the *exact middle* of the park! Which is, like, 9 miles in. I can't freaking *wait!*”\n\nHe wondered what terrible death had befallen the workers of Night & Day Park after their fortune had failed them so thoroughly. Daniel was a bit of a historian (self-proclaimed, but highly knowledgeable), and had read almost every book written on the subject of Day & Night Co. in the last 30 years. As far as he could recall, the official investigators hadn’t recovered a single body after the Incident of ’87… but every one of them remembered the screams, the pleas for less pain, the moans for mercy, “No more! No more!”\n \n“Dan? Yo! You alright?”\n\nIt was a wonder he’d come for the Grand Re-opening at all, having been immersed in the horror of thousands for so many years. Though if pressed, of course, he would admit that this was an immutable part of his life. He would sooner be absent at the birth of his first-born child than miss a piece of Day & Night history. Some hobbyists collected space rocks, or retro laser weaponry, or fallen artifacts from the Melody People; they built abyss-boats, and 4-D puzzles, and antique androids...\n \nHis hobby just happened to be obsessing over the mysterious workings of this galaxies-wide conglomeration and how it’s been the target of violent and murderous protest since its inception, over five centuries ago. Daniel collected almost anything related to Day & Night, and its & its enemies’ misdeeds: old Holo-clippings regarding a death or two in some D&N factory, outdated Holo-boards with protests sparking on them, manifestos about the daily injustices brought about by D&N and the inhumane treatment of D&N's employees, interviews with starbound hitmen who'd been bought by D&N officials to silence protestors or had been hired by D&N rivals to assassinate D&N officials.\n \nCasey pulled Daniel forward, muttering, \"I don't care if you *did* just have stroke, we're not losing our place on line.\" Said line spanned forward for at least a half-mile, ending before great, building-tall gates wrought from some shining alloy. A huge rendition of the company's symbol clasped the gate: D&N encapsulated by Moon-man the Cosmonaut's iconic helmet. Back, behind them, the line curved and twisted, vanishing into a distant dot on the pale, flat horizon. One cold sun had peaked, and the other, which supplies Aggro IV with heat and light, was just coming up.\n \nReally, his was a collection comprised mostly of in-depth documents regarding Day & Night Co, which all came together, in a way, to communicate a pretty clear message. And to think of himself as a “hobbyist” was perhaps one of the biggest acts of self-delusion one could ever commit. If Daniel was a hobbyist, then Mr. Night Jr. himself was out there somewhere, alive alongside his helmeted buddy. By trade and study, he was a journalist – now he was a “columnist” for one of the biggest trash-heap clickbait organizations available on the Web. For them he wrote gag-worthy fluff pieces about which celebrity was still breastfeeding her nine-year-old or which member of royalty was seen, semi-disguised, jerking off in the back of a fast-food joint. In his free time, he wrote and read and wrote and read, reconstructing one of the largest and most disturbing narratives that had ever existed – this amounted to his *real* job; the clickbait gig was just a thing he did to get money to support his Day & Night work.\n \n“Sorry, what?” Daniel had heard what she’d said, her voice, but the words were masked by the haze of inattention and lacked any real meaning.\n \n“Nothing, Danny, nothing.” Casey patted his back, looked up and seemed to notice the length of the line again. She blew out a sigh, then opened her bag and began searching.\n \n“You have the tickets, right?” he asked, leaning forward to look inside.\n \nShe scoffed and said, “Obviously. What I’m looking for is the… damn… ah!” Casey fished out a long, white, too-thin cigarette. Daniel gaped at his sister.\n \n“Case, there are… kids here.” He looked around cautiously, speaking low. “And how the hell did you get that onto Four? How did Jee-Ess-Tee-Ess *not* find it?”\n \n“Relax, baby-”\n \n“Ew.”\n \nShe rolled her eyes. “I called you a baby cos you’re a freaking *baby*. No one cares, Danny. This shit is legal, like, everywhere. Just because you’re holed up in that incubation chamber of yours, twenty-four-seven, afraid of the whole god-damn universe, doesn’t mean the ‘bad things’ aren’t fun.”\n \n“But… okay, I’ll admit I’m, uh, naive when it comes to *certain* aspects of living. But I know that you shouldn’t be letting kids inhale that stuff. Messes with development and brain growth.”\n \n“A little Wizard Shrub would be the least of that kid’s problem,” Casey said, quietly, eyeing the closest child around. He was chubby and blonde-headed – standing ahead by five or so meters, vibrating in place by a woman’s side. The woman, presumably his mother, had a hand clamped on the boy’s shoulder as she delivered a solemn, thin-lipped reprimand; and despite his excitement, he looked ready to cry. “That’s abuse, man,” she said, and produced a lighter, joint bobbing in her lips.\n \n“So is exposing me to that shit,” he said, waving a hand in front of his nose. “I’m not trying to see stars or the Things beyond them.” The line began to move steadily forward, and Daniel’s chest echoed hollowly with dread and anticipation: perhaps the beginning effects of Dubya Shrub. He gestured forward. “I need to be lucid for this, Case. I’ve worked long and hard hours to get here – this is important.”\n \nWizard Shrub was the result of a strange, experimental threesome, back when Earth was the main-world: part-organic, part-scientific, part-mystic. The great-great-great-great-great-grandchild of marijuana and magic mushrooms and something else, it utilizes a dollop of THC, a decimal of psilocin, and an unknown quantity of some mysterious third element – which has been thought to activate the pineal gland. (An organ long-believed to hold the secrets of awesome human potential.) Reports of telekinesis, prescience, hallucinogenic visions, and visitations from spectral entities are not uncommon, and have been verified and recorded frequently. Personally, Daniel didn’t trust anything that could alter his perception so radically. Alcoholism ran in his family, as well as addictive personalities, and with his mind being his most precious commodity, he’d never willingly delve into things that might endanger its integrity. (Unless a sufficiently accurate case study had been done, which proved Wizard Shrub more or less harmless.)\n \n“Mmm,” she hummed, as smoke slid through her nostrils and cascaded down her face in a solid, slimy-looking fog. “Speaking of, you spent any ‘long and hard hours’ with Caroline recently?” \n\n“No, Casey. She’s made it clear I’m ‘too much’ for her. Can we drop it, and can *you* drop that?” \n\n“Two hits is probably way more than enough, you’re right.” She licked her thumb and, with a near-silent sizzle, put out the flame. Daniel was smiling, until Casey pulled from her bag a small silver case – wherein lined up were several different cigarettes of varying shape, size, and color – and placed the unlighted join within. “Save *that* for later.” \n\nDaniel, disgusted, shook his head, withdrew his Holopad, and began writing down various descriptions of the surrounding structures, staff, security, etc. He occasionally moved through windows on the pad, reading up on alerts about the park. Currently the line was about seven miles long. Lining the sometimes-roofed corridor were frequent shops and rest stops and food centers (each comprised of two or three of practically every chain-restaurant in existence); staff and security and administration buildings interspersed the empty spaces, and small staff huts – occupied by ten or so employees – often sat along the wide path. Inward facing chairs made up the border on both sides of the path, but surprisingly few guests took advantage of them. \n\nThey moved forward again, and this time they didn’t stop. Daniel decided to just put his gadgets away and archive everything with his mind. \n\nIn 20 minutes, they were at the gate. Thirty archways lined the bottom. The construction was beautiful up close. From afar, one was fooled into thinking the massive passage would swing open in quarter-mile arcs on each side – but, standing beneath, Daniel saw no crack or welded seal, just a smooth stretch of metal with a shallow ridge in the middle. It was a wall merely made to look like a gate, fitted with myriad, real, smaller gates along the ground. \n\nTheir turn came. Casey and Daniel made their way to a turnstile. A smiling employing, bedecked in an moon-grey polo shirt and khakis, greeted them, scanned their tickets, and traded them for two badges. He handed them their badges, bid them a good time, and welcomed them into the city-sized park. \n\nDaniel’s face must have communicated a mixture of awe and acute fright, for Casey looked at him and nodded, expressing similar feelings. She hooked her arm through his, for the first time since they were children, and pulled him forward. \n \n**WILL ADD A PART TWO, IN A BIT**\n-\n\n"
] | 1
|
|
Others can try and guess what it is.
|
[WP] Describe an addiction without saying what the addiction is.
|
[
"All these book pages turned until the last\nattempting to dive ever deeper into that ocean:\nI haven't the oxygen to keep going, but\nI keep going anyways.\n\nI tell myself there's no magical point of realization,\nno resolution, or satisfaction.\nBut even those words I rip apart\nuntil they mean absolutely nothing at all.\n\nThe green grass lives because of sunlight.\nThe sunlight lives because of fusion.\nFusion lives because particles exist, and\nparticles exist because of a primordial explosion.\n\nDespite all this, I still feel no closer\nto knowing how I'm like this,\nknowing why we're still together,\nknowing the reason I love you,\nknowing exactly what makes you smile.",
"I know it's stupid. I know it's meaningless. I know it's a waste of time. My rational self knows this truth painfully well. My rational self says each day is my last day, but the last day never comes. Why do I do this? Maybe it's the validation. Maybe it's because I missed some \"critical period\". Maybe I'm just doomed. Either way, all I can do is watch the sun rise and set from my drab little apartment, helplessly watching the passing time fade by as I sink deeper into a world that isn't real. ",
"Have you ever had a need? A compulsion, one might say, to do something or use something? Almost like hunger, it feels like you'll pass out or die if you don't get it, even if you know in your mind that it is slowly killing you.\n\nI've known that feeling since college, and only the lucky live with it as long as I have as well as I have. My will is strong enough to hold out for a few days between packs, but I can never hold out long enough to break the habit. I still carry a lighter when I go anywhere, just in case the urge gets too strong.\n\nThe black clouds are floating off now, and my lungs feel like they work again. It won't last long, in a few short hours breathing will seem like hard work again, but I'll enjoy the relief while it lasts. In the end, this little habit of mine will likely cost me far more than the few bucks a week I pay at the store. Doesn't really matter, I suppose, we all die in the end, but I certainly hope something else gets me before my habit does."
] | 3
|
[WP] I didn't know what to do, i just knew it needed to stop. Grave after grave, i got tired of burying my friends.
|
[
"Pulling the six-shooter out of my desk drawer, I spun the chamber to check. Its rotational click, precise like clock-work, illuminated each brass casing in turn. *Never thought I'd need this again.* A holster rested from a rung on the hat rack by the door, but a soft knocking came as I laced it through my pants loops.\n\n\"I know you're in there, Joseph. Let me in, we need to talk.\" Cracking the door, rays of tempered orange played across the soft silk of Lillah's dress. She stood, arms crossed, ready to give me the kind of stern talking-to that she was known for--and I deserved.\n\n\"Yeah, what can I do for you.\" \n\nHer eyes traced their way down my body, first to the pistol in hand, then to the half-tightened holster flopping against my thigh. The crow's feet around her eyes screeched their disapproval as a sharp tssk slipped between her pursed lips. She cared, but seeing me with my old tools lit something under her, and I knew what was coming next.\n\n\"Are you mad? Goddamnit, Joseph, you know as well as I you can't do anything to change what's happened. All this'll prove is that you've gotten old--and dead.\" Each hand waved wide, fingers twisting in the wind like so many weeds struggling to survive a drought. The powder on her cheeks couldn't hide the scarlet spreading like wildfire underneath.\n\n\"They were your friends too, Lillah, your neighbors are dead thanks to them. This can't continue, not while I can stand.\" I didn't mean to let the rage boiling just below my skin seep into those words, but the heat blustering forth with each heavy, ragged breath betrayed me. Burying every one of them, that'd be enough to drive any man to the brink, but I held my tongue each time. Now though, it was time to act.\n\n\"They'll kill you. What everyone else stood for, it wasn't worth it. Freedom may taste good to a starving man, but you've got something Joseph. You've got me.\" Streaks trailed down to her chin, outlined by thin mascara caravans. She loved me, been that way for some time. It was my own ignorance and selfishness that kept an arms-length between us, and now it would be the six feet of earth after the next man finished his work.\n\n\"I can't. They don't know us, yet they stand tall and say we are better this way. I'm not like those fools who thought the barrel of a gun could buy us a way out. But I'm not heartless enough to ignore what's been happening around me either. No one else will die for my lack of spirit.\" Stepping out into the lengthening shadows, I did my best to console Lillah in our last moments together. *I must feel like beat leather, holding her like this.* Her shaking stopped, and for a moment I could see hope curl on the edges of a smile.\n\n\"You'll come back.\" It wasn't a question, her firm tone stoking flames in the pit of my stomach. Moving away, I nodded toward the woman I never deserved, but was lucky enough to find. My free hand raised high, I watched as shadows danced between fingers too slow to do the work needed to be done.\n\n\"I'll come back.\" "
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Your SO just got home from work. Moments later they text saying they'll be home late.
|
[
" I unlocked my apartment door after a long day of work. I expected to see my husband watching the evening news on the couch. But the couch was empty. Our daughter came out of her room and I asked her how her day at school was \n \"Pretty good, at lunch I had to...\"\n Just then my husband opened the door and said \"Sorry I'm late traffic was backed up to high hell there was an accident on I-64 that had traffic backed up for miles\" He was cut off by my phone's whistle that alerted me when I received a text. I checked the text from my husband which read\n \"Traffic is backed up for miles, I'm just going to pick up some food for dinner from subway, what do you want?\" I was puzzled that I had just received his text but I reasoned that it had just delayed because of the bad service in the area.\n \"What's wrong?\" My husband asked as he noticed the puzzled look on my face.\n \"Nothing\" I said \"I just now got the text you sent me\" \n \"Yeah you know how bad service is around here sometimes\" he replied. Just then I got a call from my husband. \n \"Who is it?\" My husband asked.\n \"It's... you\" I replied with a terrified look on my face.\n \"What's wrong daddy?\" My daughter asked as I answered the phone call. I hushed her and pressed the button to accept the call. \n \"Hey I'm at subway, what do you want\" my husbands voice spoke on the other line.\n \"I... I..I.. What?\" I stuttered.\n \"You got my text right? I'm at subway what do you and Lexi want?\" He said back. \n \" Who the hell is this?\" I yelled back at the person on the other line.\n \"It's Cameron!\" Yelled the person on the other line.\n \"No... No you're right here in front of me\" I screamed back.\n \"What's wrong what's happening?\" The man I was sure was my husband asked. The call ended and the request for a FaceTime popped up on my screen. It was from my husband's phone. I looked at my daughter then at my husband and accepted it. On the screen was a video of my husband in a subway. \n \"What is wrong?\" He asked. I dropped my phone and fell to my knees. \n \"Who are you people?\" I screamed. My husband tried to grab my shoulder but I smacked his hand away. He starred at me and raised his fist. My daughter lurched to try and grab him but he had already launched his big hand at my head. \n I woke up in a hospital bed with my husband at my side, weeping. \n \"Get him away from me!\" I groaned in slurred speech\n \" Oh my god\" my husband shouted. \"He's awake!\" A nurse rushed into my room and turned of a monitor that was beeping behind me and asked me if I wanted and water.\n \"Get him away!\" I said backing up to the wall behind my hospital bed. The nurse pressed a button and a doctor sprinted into the room. \n \"What is going on?\" He exclaimed.\n \"He's having an episode\" the nurse explained. \n \"No I'm not!\" I shouted \"He hit me!\" I said pointing at my husband. \"He did this to me, he shouldn't be in here!\" Just then a tall man in a suit walked in.\n \"I'm detective Sampson\" he said in a deep but calm voice. \"Your daughter is gone, the man who took her is gone. We need you to explain to us exactly what happened.\" I broke down crying, how could my only child be gone? \n \"He did it!\" I screamed weeping, as I pointed at the man I once loved next to me. \n \"Sir, your husband has an alibi, he was seen on tape walking into a subway at the time the incident happened.\" \n \"But I saw him do it!\" I screamed.\n \"We're gonna need some assistance\" the nurse spoke into a speaker on the wall behind my bed. I was in hysterics, screaming at the detective and my husband. Two men in white scrubs ran in and pulled out a large syringe and stuck it into my fore arm. \n \"Noooo!\" I screamed as my reality became darker and darker until I fell asleep.\n ",
"I looked up from Netflix as the knob on the front door twisted and the door opened. A moment later, my wife, Emily walked into the living room, wearing a shirt about twin powers. She places her phone on the table facedown and gives me her usual greeting of a hi and a peck on the cheek before moving upstairs. Everything seemed normal until she began talking.\n\n\"Hey honey, where is the bathroom? I forgot.\"\n\nFor me, there were three things wrong with this question. One- the bathroom is right in front of the staircase with a sign with a toilet joke on it. That should've been obvious pretty obvous. Two- Emily has great memory, and has remembered everything about our relationship down to our number of blinks since we first met. Three- we have never called each other honey before. We usually are either on first name basis or say baby or babe.\n\n\"Immediately forwards when you make it up.\" I here a sound of a door opening and a plopping sound. I go back to my show, but ponder over this problem for several minutes. I would've completely disregarded it had it not been for the text I received.\n\nMy phone buzzed, and I picked it up and looked at it. It was from my Emily. The text read: \"Hey Matt, I have a project I need to finish up at work. I will be home in an hour or two.\n\nCuriosity got the best of me, and I picked up Emily's phone from the desk, and what I see shocks me. The screensaver has a picture of a flamingo on it, whom she regards them as \"fucking pink bitches.\" Also, the clock said 8:46 p.m, and Emily always used military time. This was a huge problem for me. I rushed up to the bathroom and slammed open the door. She was dressed in a very small tank top and tight shorts, leaning over the sink in a seductive fashion. Another red alert, Emily and I hadn't had sex in a month- she was 7 months pregnant. And her stomach was not showing at all.\n\n\"Emily, what the hell is going on? I just gotta text saying that you-\"\n\n\"Shhhhh\" she said as she place a finger on my lips. \"Just go with it Matthew, it'll be alright. Don't fight it.\"\n\nSuddenly, it all pieced together. This was my wife's sister. Emily's twin sister, Amelia, was a sociopath who killed for fun and games. And she was the only person besides my parents to call me Matthew. \n\nI ran away as quick as I could. Amelia followed. I heard a loud bang, and a piece of the wall exploded, which meant that Amelia had a gun. This made me run faster, and I realized that if I stopped, I would die. A couple more bullets whizzed past my head hitting more chunks of the wall. \n\nI made it to the kitchen before she could, and grabbed the largest knife I could find. She came in a moment afterwards, a look of pure frenzy etched on her face and the gun replaced with a pike. How did she hide a pike in those small pants? Panicking more, I flung the knife at Amelia, hoping for the best.. It tore easily through her left lung, and she began struggling for breath. Within seconds, she collapsed dead. With ragged breaths I immediately called 911. Hopefully if the real Emily came back, she wouldn't have a fit. She is very protective of me.",
"I slammed the door shut and slumped on the couch, grabbed the remote and turned on the T.V. Then, my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw a number I didn't recognize.\n\n\"I'll be working late, don't wait up for dinner. -XOxo\"\n\nThe phone fell to the floor as my right hand instantly vanished.\n\nShocked, I stared ponderously at the phone, and then at my immaculate wrist-stump.\n\nIt all made sense. \n\nWith not much else to do, I walked over to kitchen, and with some difficulty, managed to open a beer. I awkwardly sipped the beer with my left hand.\n\n\"Wonder when my gf will be home\" \n\n\n\n",
"The gunfire came out of no where. She narrowly got out of the way before a bullet lodged in the wall where her head had been just a moment before.\n\n“You son of a bitch! Oh, you are going to pay for that! Where the hell is the ammo?”\n\nKate dropped into a crouch and frantically searched the bedroom for any hidden stash that was left but found nothing. Every dresser drawer had already been emptied and the case in the closet just had some old clothes and pictures.\n\n“Not good. Not good!!”\n\nAfter rolling behind the old armchair she peaked over the back carefully to get a better idea of what she was up against. She was able to count three men outside the window and they were all heavily armed. \n\n“Damn.” She dropped to the floor as more bullets came flying through the window. “OK, do not panic.”\n\nIt was then she heard the voice she had been dreading and it was right on the other side of the bedroom door. “Well now, what have we here? You were expecting some on else I take it. This is not the welcome home I was expecting darling. Now why don't you put that gun down and come out here so we can talk.”\n\nCharles Macay. There was no one in this world who Kate hated more than Charles Macay. She knew that this was where it was all going to end.\n\n“You can do this Kate” she reassured herself. She doubled checked her belt to make sure she still had knives left before making her move. \n\nKate leaped from behind the chair and fired her last three bullets out the window. Each one was a direct hit and her would be assailants dropped to the ground. She spun and threw two knives right as Charles entered the room. He dodged both and fired his gun.\n\n“You have got to be kidding me! Every damn time!”\n\n“Kate?” Kate looked up from the TV as Sam walked in the living room. “You still haven't beaten that shoot out at the farmhouse?” \n\n“No.” she grumbled as she paused the game before Charles Macay could finish mocking her failure once again. “I thought I had it that time. I thought if I took out the guys outside first I could get him with a throwing knife.” She glanced a the clock and saw that it was just after five. “Did you get done early? I didn't even hear you pull in.”\n\nSam smile and shook his head as he walked toward the kitchen. “The meetings rescheduled again.”\n\n“Again?” Kate couldn't believe it and followed him in to the kitchen. “What are they waiting for? You've had the presentation ready to go for weeks!” \n\n“Yeah well, it'll happen when it happens. Besides, now I can have the guys in accounting take a closer look at those charts.” Sam smiled but Kate knew he was crushed the presentation had been pushed back again. If this went well Sam could be offered a permanent position with the company. \n\n“Hey, I have an idea.” she told him brightly as she returned his smile. “Why don't we go grab a quick bite, pick up some beers and start enjoying the weekend?”\n\n“I can't think of anything I'd like more. Let me just wash up quick and we can head out.”\n\nSam started up stairs and Kate went to grab her bag. She tossed her keys and wallet in and her phone started vibrating on the coffee table as she went to get it. \n\nSam's name came across the display and she laughed. “You know I hate it when you text me from upstairs!” she called. “We can decide where we want to go when you get back down here and...” She stopped and tried to process what she was reading. \n\nSomething really weird just happened. I'm on my way home. Lock the door and don't let anyone in. I love you. \n\n“Kate?” Kate jumped as Sam touched her shoulder. “Everything OK?”\n\n“You scared the crap out of me! That was pretty funny, I have to admit.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and dropped her phone in her bag.\n\n“Oh shoot! I left my phone in the car.” Sam said as he watched her finish collect her things. “I hope I remembered to lock it. Ready to go?” \n\nKate followed him out on the porch smirking. “Don't oversell your hand. You should have quit when you were ahead. It was funny. Really. But you always over do it.”\n\nSam opened the car door for her and jogged to the other side while she started to get it “What are you talking about?” \n\nKate didn't hear his question. She was staring at the cell phone on the passenger's seat. \n",
"There was some fumbling at the door. It was time for Jessica to get home. Sometimes I unlock the door but today I hadn't bothered since I had been busy writing. It really doesn't matter either way; she has a key. She continued to fumble with the door for a bit. Finally, she stopped and my phone vibrated. She must've lost her key again. I stopped my writing and got up to go to the door. \n\n\"Hey sweetheart,\" I sang to her. She was looking gorgeous as usual. Actually, she looked a lot more gorgeous today than she usually did when she got home from work. Her makeup was completely perfect as opposed to the usual signs that she had either sweat or accidentally smudged it in a spot. Her facial expression was spot on though; it was indicative of true hatred for one's job. I opened my arms to give her a hug but she just walked in and shut the door. \"How'd you manage to lose your keys,\" I began; but the words were knocked right out of me as I was tackled to the floor.\n\n\"Ok, human,\" seethed a voice that was not Jessica's, \" I'll make this as painless as I can.\" My phone went off and I looked over at it on the floor. Jessica's name was displayed in the center. The impostor answered and I was persuaded to say hello by something sharp against my throat.\n\n\"Hello to you too, Mister I take too long to text back,\" came Jessica's sassy voice, \"I sent you a mess--wait is that you I see coming down the hall?\" The impostor threw the phone across the room. ",
"Imagine my surprise when I got into work and discovered I had the day off. Apparently I had wrote down the wrong schedule and I was not due in until tomorrow. Score! A whole day to do whatever I wanted around the house!\n\nNaturally this just amounted to working at home. Repotted some flowers, fixed the board that kept slipping out of place on the bookshelf, watched some Spongebob Squarepants on Hulu. You know, important stuff.\n\nDon't judge me.\n\nI did get some good cleaning in though, and I was just about to draw a bath when I heard my girlfriend pull in. That was another good part of the day for me. I had been planning to spring the surprise on her when the day was going perfect and this day was just a blast.\n\nI grabbed the small box and slipped into a cute sundress, then hid myself in the bedroom closet. She would open it to toss in her shoes, see me, and I would pop the question.\n\nFoolproof, right?\n\nThen the text comes in. I receive it right before I hear the door open, and a moment later the door closes a bit hard.\n\n\"Sorry, working late. You are too, right? Meet you at Luigi's for dinner.\"\n\nWhat the ever-loving hell?\n\nI was about to get out of the closet and question her on this when I see the last thing I want to see.\n\nAlright, so maybe her butt is among the first things I want to see. Just not with some man groping it as he pushes her back into the bedroom. Especially after all the insisting she's done that she doesn't even like men.\n\nAlso, she's my girlfriend and I am not open to being open.\n\nAs I prepare to burst out and confront the scene that is about to quickly escalate to the bed we share, she does exactly what I thought she would do. Breaking off from him, she steps over and slips off her shoes.\n\nI open the box, exposing the ring, and raise my phone. This whole thing hurts like hell but I am never going to see this look on her face again.\n\nAnd flash. Fuck! Forgot I had that on. Doesn't matter, she's screaming now and I am hurrying out of the house with the ring in hand. I can still get a refund, and I'll sort the issue of what to do about her later. I just need away for now.\n\nI'm not even out of the driveway before she starts texting me, and I can hear her and whats-his-face yelling at each other inside the house. Good, maybe I ruined that. Bad enough I lost my girlfriend, I'd hate to lose my bedsheets too.\n\nAnd the day was going so perfect..."
] | 6
|
|
[WP] The post-apocalyptic Earth is a place of misery. Luckily, happy memories are sold on the black market. Though, this isn't quite what you expected.
|
[
"I see it, the memory. Its white powder reminded me of a old world drug, I think it was named cocaine. Could be wrong. Drugs were destroyed when the bombs fell, destroying everything. The old world companies, now our governments, built underground shelters for the end of the world. It was a massive city, millions of people could fit down here. \n\nMy ancestors got down here two decades ago, when a was a still in my mothers belly. They paid with everything they had to get in when the end of the world happened. Everyone works for the government, working as a old world company. Paid in hours off work, one hour for every six hours of work. Hours off is the main form of currency. You can know how much you have based on your I.O.U sheet, which shows how many hours. \n\nSo many hard work hours, so little happiness. No liquor, except for the executives and other high up position. No drugs, destroyed when the bombs fell. Sex is heavily regulated, only on special occasions. So what do us lower on the food chain do for happiness? Happy memories. People would sell happy memories on the black market. Usually of old world people. \n\nThese memories are damn expensive. Nine hours off, that's what I paid for this. 54 hours I'm never getting back. It's 8 at night, so I have plenty of time to experience this. I snort the white powder, and, as usual, see the world around me turn dark. \n\nI began to see a woman, she looks frightened. I see myself move towards her, backing away from me, and then I see a hand. It has a knife in it. \"Hey, pretty girl. I'm gonn-\", before the voice could continue, the woman, who seems to be in a room, screamed. A hand covered her mouth, and plunged the knife into her neck. Blood spurted on the knife. I see the man put the knife to his face and licked it. I could taste the metallic taste of the blood. The world began to get dark again.\n\nI woke up, in a cold sweat. I feel like I had murdered someone, and then I remembered the memory. I ran to my bathroom, and threw up. It was ten at night. I was tired, and began to drag myself to my bedroom, undressed myself, and passed out on the bed.\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You open a fortune cookie and it reads "we are now inside of you."
|
[
"*We are now inside you*\n\nWhat a strange message from a fortune cookie I thought at the time. I was on a date with my girlfriend and I got this with desert. I liked fortune cookies and they always gave me a laugh, until the side effects from this one kicked in...\n\nThe night continued on as usual and we went back home. We sat down and watched episode 10 season 6 of Game of Thrones. What a great episode. I really liked the part where Yoda helped Abaram Lincoln and Rick Grimes do the dishes. \n\nBut I could hear these faint voices when I opened my mouth and lay completely silent.\n\nAnyway the next day was okay, I felt a bit of nausea at work and left early.\n\n*Day 1 - Subject 1675*\n\n*Day one inside organism. The human male appears to be fine and well adjusted. The fortune cookie message hasn't hindered our progress one bit*\n\nWhat the hell? I'm not sure whose speaking but it sounds like it was coming from my chest?!?\n\nI thought nothing of it at the time but boy was I wrong.\n \n*Day 2 - Subject 1675*\n\n*We have set up our full base of operations here near his heart. We believe that we have strategic entry to the spinal column through a small microscopic incision behind the heart. This will lead our engineers straight up into the brain*\n\nI had a seizure at work. It was horrible, I was at my desk one minute, next I was in the hospital hooked up to an IV. Apparently the doctor said I had passed out and knocked my head. \n\n*Day 3 - Subject 1675*\n\n*The human has outside forces inserting foreign objects into his arm and up his nostrils. Unsure of what this is at this stage. BAU.*\n\nBAU I thought? What is going on?\n\nThe next few days were a blur however I remember bits and pieces. I was out of the hospital the next day and back in my house. My girlfriend had left to go to work and I had just loaded Netflix. Apparently I had left my house and walked to the store and just stood there in my robe staring at the produce.\n\nI remember none of this and was escorted home by police. They phoned my girlfriend who explained the situation and advised she would take the rest of the day off.\n\n*Subjects \"girlfriend\" has been home for the last hour. Implement phase \"Full body control\"*\n\nI felt my body being controlled as I headed into the kitchen and picked up the fridge with ease. I carried the fridge above my head and apparently threw it at my partner killing her instantly.\n\nI then proceeded to the next door neighbours car and threw it at the house across the road. \n\nI'm very scared now as I don't know what's going on, the voices haven't stopped and it sounds like they are busier than ever. I haven't been able to control anything other than my hands to post on reddit. \n\nPlease help, they are *inside of me*."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Heaven is has a finite space. You've died and were a good person but there is no room in Heaven for you.
|
[
"Jeremy Kauffmann had, by and large, lived a good life. He had been a good father, or at least, he had stayed out of the way. He was always punctual, valuing others' time as much as his own, which is really a divine quality in a small businessman. He also made it to church most Sundays, certainly enough times to build up a nest egg in the collection bin that most folks wouldn't shake a stick at, assuming those folks were cautious with sticks.\n\nSo, when he collapsed into his oatmeal one day, the veins bursting through his head, Jeremy Kauffmann figured he was a shoe-in for Heaven.\n\nWhen he arrived at the pearly gates, he was greeted by St. Peter, who seemed very busy scribbling notes but still took the time to offer a wink and a smile. \"Ah, Jeremy Kauffman! We've been expecting you!\"\n\nJeremy smiled and gave a small wave, which made him feel humble, even though he was wholly unsurprised that St. Peter knew him by name. After all, Jeremy supervised several accountants at Kauffmann and Kauffman, LLP.\n\n\"Good morning, St. Peter.\"\n\n\"Oh good heavens, it's not morning here. Time works very oddly in Heaven, you see. Although rather unfortunately, your timing isn't really the best.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nPeter frantically rearranged some parchment. \"Well, I'm afraid Heaven is at capacity.\"\n\n\"Capacity?\" Jeremy was confused, but he didn't want to offend Peter outright.\"\n\n\"Well, you see, we only have so much space up here. It wouldn't be a paradise if you had to wait too long at the cafeteria, you know.\"\n\nJeremy's eyes moved past Peter, and he squinted to see the glow between the big golden bars on the gates of heaven's beautiful wall. \"Of course, it may look like there's room,\" Peter interjected, as though hearing Jeremy's thoughts. \"But there isn't. You see, we have to hold spots for the people who are coming in soon.\"\n\n\"Whose coming in?\"\n\nPeter glanced down at the parchment and flicked the edge with his thumb. \"Well, the Pope is certainly getting up there. Two Popes, actually, the one fellow isn't dead yet. So, we have to hold plenty of space for them. Denzel Washington, he'll die pretty soon, between you and me, he's a revolutionary performer, but he has a weakness for cheeseburgers. So, he needs lots of space, because the Father really wants to discuss 'The Manchurian Candidate' with him.\"\n\nJeremy was trying not to look bitter, but he felt \"The Manchurian Candidate\" was a mediocre film. Certainly no better than \"The Taking of Pelham 123\".\n\n\"Then there's going to be a few more mass shootings, we have to send those folks in, just to make amends since most of shooters believe in, well, I don't think I have to tell you that part. It's a little silly, but of course, you know how politics work. And of course, Betty White, got to save a place for her. So, I'm afraid you'll have to go on the waiting list.\"\n\n\"How long will I have to be on the list?\"\n\nPeter smiled. \"The current estimated wait is 372,151 years.\"\n\n\"What!?\"\n\n\"I know, what a deal! What's 372,151 years compared to eternal paradise?\"\n\nJeremy sighed. \"So is the waiting list my only option?\"\n\n\"Well, if you're really itching to start the afterlife, you can try Hell. It's just down the street, although by the time you get there and get your name on the list, you may wish you had just stayed on this one. Time works very oddly in Heaven.\"\n\nJeremy Kauffmann knew he deserved to be in Heaven, but he also deserved to be valued. \"If Heaven doesn't care about me more than Betty White, maybe Hell will!\" he declared.\n\n\"Oh, I'm sure they will! They usually give a damn.\"\n\nSo Jeremy Kauffmann marched off to Hell, and was disappointed to find that he still needed to clear a waitlist (as Lucifer calmly explained, there were an awful lot of mass shootings coming up, and the shooters usually didn't survive those). However, since the waitlist was only 527 years, he decided to stick it out. As he sat in the waiting room, he couldn't help but feel like a lot of people were headed down the street into Heaven with beaming smiles. He wondered if the wait would have been worth it. Still, the 527 years in Hell's waiting room seemed to take forever, so he was happy to stick it out, even though he heard whispers from the other pending souls that the cafeteria was far too crowded, and that time in Heaven went oddly quick.",
"\"Sorry, we're full up\", Saint Peter gave me the bad news.\n\n\"What do you mean full up?\"\n\n\"I mean heaven is full, so you can't go in\", he replied.\n\nI couldn't believe it, despite the odds I had believed in Jesus and remained faithful to my dying day, just to find out it was all for naught.\n\n\"I've been a pretty good Christian, surely there is someone in heaven worse than me, couldn't I take their place\"\n\nPeter looked at me with pity and replied, \"There was just before you said that, but now that display of pride and arrogance bumped you down just below the threshold\".\n\nAs he said those crippling words, he pulled a level and a trapdoor opened below me.\n\nAs I fell I vowed, \"I'll get you for this you fucking cunt!\"\n\nI landed... On soft ground... I was in front of Saint Peter and Pearly gates once more.\n\nPeter looked cross and said, \"Actually you were still above the threshold, but God wanted me to test you. That little display of cursing now *actually* landed you in hell\".\n\nWith defeat on my lips I uttered, \"How long has it been Satan?\"\n\nPeter took off his face revealing a devilish figure, \"Hehehe, we've been playing this game for 70 years, you've caught on to the game a few times now, but the dementia of hell took you back every time\"\n\nI felt sick, my vision started going blurry.\n\nI woke up, lying on a cloud, Saint Peter was holding me in his lap.\n\n\"Are you okay? You just passed out all of a sudden\"\n\n\"Saint Peter, is that you? Did I make it to heaven\"\n\n\"I'm sorry\", he replied, \"But we've just run out of room\".\n\n"
] | 2
|
|
[WP] You are a 911 dispatcher and only a little while after you get the job you get a call from your very own kidnapped son.
|
[WP] You are a 911 dispatcher and only a little while after you get the job you get a call from your very own kidnapped son.
|
[
"(Any addresses mentioned in this are purely fictional for privacy purposes. Any actual matches are purely coincidental.)\n\nJust to clarify, I went a bit crazy with this one. Hope that's not too much of a problem. See replies to this post for the other parts. Enjoy!\n\n--\n\nPART ONE.\n\nIt had been a while now. It felt like a lot longer than 1 week, but time had already stopped moving for me. It stopped moving the moment he went missing. I'd heard not a single thing from anyone - neighbors, nothing. Friends, nothing. Family, nothing. Funnily enough, though, the first thing I could think about when it first happened was how happy I was to know that my late wife would never be able to feel the pain of losing someone she was so hopeful for, the person she loved with all her heart before she'd even seen his face, before she even felt the first tiny kick inside her.\n\nThe second thing I thought about was the danger that he was in, the sort of person he may have ended up with when I finally heard about the witness coming forward. A man, tall, bearded, middle-aged at best.\n\nThe third thing I thought about was so simple - It was his smile. That was what made me cry for two days, bound to my bed without any motivation to do anything. I had to take time off work, the job I'd only just gotten; I knew the hours were going to be rough. How couldn't they be? But I could afford to do it now, all because of Penelope. Or Penny, whichever came first. Penny was the name that my son addressed her as, but I called her both - all situation-dependent, of course.\n\nShe was my new girlfriend. I never thought I'd find love again - When I saw my wife's cold, dead eyes staring at me the night she gave birth, I thought that the concept of love had been torn straight from my heart, body, and soul, but somehow Penny, a bouncy, happy, and positive young woman, had helped bring it all back. It was because of her that I aimed for a job like this, that I decided to take on more hours; she was so good with my son that all my trust went to her. She was simply a teacher, an Elementary one at that, with a caring personality and a unique way of being able to understand people. She took care of my boy while I worked long hours - Or should I say *our* boy. He was just as much of a son to her now as he was to me, and she was already becoming a great mother.\n\nBut when he went missing, our world split in two.\n\nMy heart was destroyed. Hers was broken. She had to lock herself away for a couple of hours after she got the news - I knew she blamed herself. It was a simple afternoon after school, apparently, a warm and sunny day; she took him to the park so he could have a run around, play with the other kids, and get some ice cream from the same vendor that had worked that park for the past 20 years, going way back to when I was the same age as my son. The ice creams from that guy were always the best - a family favorite, in fact.\n\nPerhaps that's what lead him to be taken. The fucking ice cream. Usually we could give him the money and he'd happily wander off and get what he wanted. It was never a dangerous place, but the man who served the ice cream up was old, becoming frail, had failing vision and failing hearing. I suppose it all came together perfectly for whatever sick fuck wanted to lay his hands on our boy.\n\nA kid, on his own, getting his own ice cream, having to walk back, busy park... He could have easily gotten slightly lost among the amount of people, failed to spot Penny where she was sat - Or maybe he just made his way back towards the kids he'd met there. Maybe he didn't want to go back to Penny at all at that point, purely out of the desire to run around and play. Maybe that was what got him taken.\n\nBy the time anyone even noticed, it was too late. He was gone, and the only evidence we really found at the park was a puddle of melted caramel ice cream. His favorite. It was an experience I'd never wish on my worst enemy - Penny never called me during my work hours, but my heart sunk when she did. I knew that something was wrong as soon as I saw her name pop up on the screen, not even an hour after school had ended.\n\nHow she went back to work, I just don't know. By now, everyone knew what happened. How many kids asked her about it? How many parents came up and tried to offer her support that she didn't want? I rarely showed my face around the school as it was, but I'd still had a barrage of poor comfort and a lot of unwanted question. Penny had far more willpower than me.\n\nAnd that was evident as soon as I got back to work - Everyone stared at me, and as soon as I got to my station I had to break down again. After a week, I was convinced my son was dead; my relationship was in the process of falling apart, and I couldn't deal with my life anymore. I didn't want to wake up in the mornings, but as Penny said, I had to face the day. I had to work to take my mind off things - But that was impossible. She knew it was, but she was just trying to be supportive. When you raise a little person all alone for a little over seven years, you get more attached than some people can even begin to understand. The day I had that taken away from me was the first time my life ended. \n\nAt this point I didn't care. It had been three days since I'd showered, I hadn't shaved since he'd been taken, and the hours of work and the sometimes brutal requirements of the job didn't bother me any more. I'd heard stories of dispatchers having to piss into Mountain Dew bottles purely because they couldn't leave their station due to shortage of staff. The idea of that was heaven compared to what I was experiencing.\n\nI wouldn't lie and say there weren't points where I had hope, but they never lasted long. I gave up all hope when I realized just how big Fresno was, just how many places or basements he could be in, just how many fields he could have been dumped in. \n\nAnd I won't lie and say I never thought of suicide. Because I did. Multiple times.\n\nBut *something* made me hang on.\n\nIt had been an average day of answering calls - many of them were non-emergency, which still annoyed me despite my terrible misfortune in the recent days. I still wanted to save the lives of people who called, or even help control a situation a little more. I'd already heard some nasty shit on the phone, and I knew that over time this was really going to get to me. But at the minute, we needed the money. I wanted this job, and I was willing to stick at it until we had what we needed, what we wanted. I'd go somewhere else soon enough, but not now. I had to keep working.\n\nAt least that's what I said before my son went missing. Now, I was doing it only because Penny had said it would be best to. Call after call, I remained the way I was. Depressed, but still I found myself investing parts of me into the calls that came in - the teenage girl who called because someone was following her was easily the scariest one I'd experienced. She was far from home, and he'd been following her everywhere she went. I could only do so much. I stayed on the phone until help did indeed arrive, and once more, my life, for a very brief moment, felt as if it had purpose once again.\n\nMany of the calls I got as a dispatcher, I was forced to leave behind, to ignore, to act as if they never existed.\n\nBut there was one call... One call I'll *never* be able to forget.\n\n\"911, what is your emergency?\" I said, blankly. I could hear the rapid breathing of someone, someone who sounded like a child. The line wasn't very good - the phone didn't sound like anything fancy. It must have been something old, or damaged, because there was a continuous faint crackling. There was silence, then sobbing, and just as I was about to speak again, I heard something that made my heart fall to the pit of my stomach, and made all the color drain from my face.\n\n\"*D-Daddy?*\""
] | 1
|
[WP] You woke up one morning, and find that everyone is missing. After years of searching for clues and messages, you have yet to find anyone...
|
[
"1408.\n\nThose weathered, bronze numbers on her apartment door was the last thing I can remember of her. It was the last day of our relationship, and the last day I thought I was going to be a father. It just also happened to be the last day I saw anyone. \n\nIt's been years since that day. That fateful morning when I thought that traffic was unusually light. The same morning when I thought I came to work during a holiday. The same morning where I realized I was *alone*. \n\nI was so foolish back then, rushing back to her apartment, praying to God that her front doors and windows weren't open like all the other buildings and houses. So foolish just kneeling there in her bedroom, seeing all those windows open, and just crying my eyes out for what seemed like hours. \n\nThings are different now. This new world has no place for a paper pushing coward who'd abandon ship at the first sign of inconvenience. All those years, sitting in a classroom, learning useless information about referendums and political maneuvering? Useless. Keeping busy and staying sane are the keys to survival now. \n\nOddly enough, one of my best tools is my trusty can opener. The same event that apparently caused everyone to disappear, also happened to leave every door unlocked and unsecured. The world was my oyster, and I could have walked right into Fort Knox, if I so desired. But traveling the world ceased to be a priority for me. I stayed in my familiar surroundings, and most of my trespassing was primarily motivated by my hunger. And, after all this time, canned food is really the only edible substance, outside of foraging in the wild. \n\nWhen I wasn't stuffing my face with a can of cold beans, I was searching. I'd borrow a car from one of the many abandoned houses (you'd be surprised how many people leave their keys by the front door) and just drive as far as I could, in search of something... *anything* that could tell me what the hell just happened. Almost always, I came back empty handed to my old, familiar, abandoned, town. I say almost, because there's one oddity in this new world that I just can't yet explain.\n\nWhen I say that all the doors in the world were unlocked during the day everyone disappeared, I really meant to say that all 'man-made' doors were unlocked. It's kind of hard to describe, but whenever I go out in search for clues, in rare occasions there's a door. It looks like a man-made door, but it obviously isn't. It can be of various styles, and various colors but its almost always the same size. \n\nThe reason I say that it obviously isn't man-made is because this door just *exists* in places that have no business having a door. It'd be in the middle of a forest, or on the center of a football field, or just hovering ever-so-slightly at the edge of a cliff. And they're never there for long. On several occasions, they'd just disappear the second i laid my eyes off them. The one time I managed to gather the courage to try to open one of these fake-doors. It ended up being locked. Which is good enough for me, I didn't really have this dying urge to see what's on the other side.\n\nBut today was different. 1408. The same door that belonged to my ex-girlfriend. A completely ordinary, boring door, that would be so if it was located inside an apartment building, was standing right there in the middle of a lake. I normally would've glanced over it by now if it wasn't for those familiar numbers but there was something else about it that I wouldn't have noticed from so far away. When I took one of the lakeside boats to it, I found out that this door, was *ajar*. \n\nIt seemed like forever, pondering whether I should see what's on the other side of this ordinary-yet-alien door, but in the end, my curiosity and my loneliness got the better of me. \n\nI swung open the door...",
"I'm tempted to draw parallels to the old comics I read as a kid. *Last Man on Earth*. Indeed.\n\nWhat. A. Crock.\n\nNononono. Not the last man on earth. The last *anything* that moves on its own power. Plants? Yeah, there's lots of *those*.\n\nIt's not been easy. First, and most important. It turns out that there are a lot of critical systems out there that needed *constant* monitoring to keep them from going completely haywire and causing a lot of damage. Without anyone around that's what they did.\n\nI've always been a loner, and despite my worries, the first few days weren't so bad. I played some games on my computer, since I lived in a hydropower area, and with no one else using it, that meant a lot of free electricity. I ate some food, but after a few days, the internet started getting strange. \n\nMy old forums were, obviously, silent. It was eerie. Then I started running low on certain foods, and stepped outside. That's when I realized just how much of what happens in the world depends on people and animals. \n\nFood has never been a problem--most of our canned goods have expiration dates that are absurdly short. In truth, most of that stuff is good for decades. And since the electricity was still on, frozen stuff lasted a good long time. But I realized that unless I could either figure out where the people were or how to keep the electrons flowing, I was basically screwed. Fortunately, with no one to stop me, getting access to the dam was easy, if annoying.\n\nFirst time, I drove down there only to realize that the doors were locked. Predictably, I suppose, but then I had to go back to the hardware store and grab a few tools to get in. Once in, it's amazing how well somethings are documented about routine maintenance procedures. I knew even then, though, that keeping that going would eventually require repairs. I spent a lot of time figuring out what supplies I would need for that when it happened, and how I might get them. \n\nAll that really did, though, was delay me on the hunt for others. I had no idea what worldwide communications were like, but I decided that two things might work. I found out which websites were still working--many went dark as various payments failed or server farms lost their power, but there were enough to give me some hope. \n\nAfter two months, I broke into a records office and found a list of registered HAM radio operators in town. I stole their equipment. I started broadcasting on a five hour rotation. Long enough gaps to let me get stuff done, like sleep, but guaranteed to get me broadcasting at different times each day. \n\nFive years after Vanishing Day (as I called it), I'd exhausted several key supplies. First, there was no more beer in town, and I was going to have to move on to the harder stuff, which I realized was likely a bad plan. Next, with pretty much all of the internet now gone, I was reduced to whatever mags were in the local shops for my supply of erotica. And I was getting pretty tired of that stuff. Finally, I was starting to run low on *information*. The local library had a lot of books that I didn't need, and depressingly few that were helpful. \n\nThat had been a first move, actually. To sort the library into books that were going to help me survive or find the other people and books that were either useless or not likely to help. Of course, the book I needed probably didn't exist--\"What to do if you are the only man left on the planet to find where all the people are.\"\n\nI figured the smart thing would be to do a drive around the country, using the electric pump i'd found and fashioned up to pull gas out of the giant tanks underground, but then I realized there was nothing other than my ignorance stopping me from hopping up to the local airport and taking a plane up. \n\nSo I spent about a month reading up on how to fly a small plane. Then another month figuring out how to do all the maintenance when various key pieces of infrastructure weren't working all that well. Then another month just taxiing around the tarmac, trying to get up the nerve to actually take off. \n\nThat first flight was scary. Bad scary. Almost as bad as the first flight over the Pacific. I knew that *eventually* I'd run out of jet fuel, but airports, as it turns out, have pretty good stocks of the stuff. Back when hundreds of planes came through with full loads, those stocks might have lasted only a day or so, but for a single plane flying all over the world? Yeah, I had a nice supply. \n\nGetting to it was tricky, but not impossible. Most of the security systems relied on alarms to bring other humans around. Annoying noises and nothing else, now. I did keep a gun and plenty of ammo on hand, though. No sense in tempting fate. Because I've had a suspicion that if I *do* find other people, they are quite possibly going to be just as paranoid as I am. I won't shoot first, but if they do shoot at me? They'll be dead.\n\nI spent the next ten years flying around the world, systematically covering every conceivable place to search for human life. Eventually, though, I've given up.\n\nI have a nice garden now. I've acquired a sizeable set of equipment that I use sparingly. I sometimes go on longer hauls to acquire various items. It's not usually worth the effort, but I do it anyway.\n\nI've never found a clue. Nothing to say what or why. Not the slightest hint of anything. Today though, I do have a question. And I'm scared. Because when I woke up, there was a note on my front door. All it said was, \"Hurry up, we're waiting for you to join us.\"\n\n"
] | 2
|
|
[WP] The day everything went right.
|
[
"I was peering into the display case when a store assistant came up to ask me if I needed a hand. I turned to the young man and said with a smile “yeah, can I take a look at those” as I pointed to a set of Sony headphones retailing for nearly $400. Usually such a price would be out of reach, but heck, today I deserved them. I just got a brand new iPod and almost a grand in cash. Today was shaping up to be a pretty excellent day. After trying about 10 different keys that hung off of a giant ring, the kid slid the display window open. Just as he was reaching to grab me the headphones somebody called out his name. \n\n\n“Be right back” he said while looking in the direction where his co-worker was frantically waving him over. I looked back and forth between the employee and the boxes of headphones that now lay within my grasp. With the ease and confidence that only comes with experience, I slipped off my backpack and casually transferred the boxes from the shelf into my bag. The trick is not too move fast, even if your legs are screaming for you to run and the hairs on your neck prickle as if you’re being watched. After my bag was fattened up with hundreds of dollars worth of merchandise I stole one final glance at the back of the assistant who had helped me. “God bless you” I whispered. \n\n\nAs I walked of out the main entrance of the store (which didn’t beep, by the way) a rather plump woman power walked past me, clearly on a mission. Behind her she left the most beautiful corvette I had ever seen, just sitting there with the engine running. It was surely a sign, as the best chop shop in town was only a 10 minute drive from here. It will be sad to see this baby disassembled, but the money will dry my tears. I’ll just have to be sure to take the long route to the garage, enjoy the ride. I opened the car door, relaxed into the leather seat, and shifted the gear into drive. Everything was going just right today. Of course my best days mean somebody else’s worse, but hey that’s just the cycle of life. \n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You go to an oral surgeon for a major procedure. You agree to be put under for it. You couldn’t have known this doctor's anesthesia literally brings people under, into a different world.
|
[
"The hardest part was watching the world above.\n\nI fell away as the pretty, young dental assistant counted down.\n\n\"10, 9, 8, 7...\"\n\nI knew I was going, because 6 followed slowly, softly, the way a friend sounds as they shout to you across a field.\n\nand then, actual falling. it was smooth, like stone diving to the seafloor, but all at once I looked up and saw the world from below. I saw the light dim around me, everything turned to an inky, palpable black... and then even the black faded away.\n\n\"what's going on?\", I thought. I tried to speak, but my body wouldn't respond. I tried to take a step, but the world said \"no\". I stayed rooted to the spot. the center of the map.\n\nand then, in the way that vines grow across chain fences...colors and shapes came back. \"bright,\" I thought. and bright it was.\n\nI looked up for the sun.\nit wasn't there.\nI kept looking, higher and higher. still no sign of it. where was the light coming from?\n\nI saw the whole in the sky that I fell through. radiating outward, the black and the blue blended together like two rivers meeting. there was no sun. a black hole in the sky. and a blue dome all the way from that black eye, to the ground.\n\nnothing made sense.\n\nI saw a hedgerow on one side. a few trees in a ring. knee-high grass all around. and a single mountain in the distance. \n\nat this point, I was sure it was just the drug. I started to wonder about those trees and found myself walking towards them. \n\nhuh. that's weird.\n\nthere was nothing in that circle of trees. nothing in the branches, not even streams of sunlight.\n\nI stayed where I was. as I was. I knew no movement, I knew no calamity. I stayed for hours. just catching my breath.\n\nI tried to stand up. nothing doing. I tried to move. goose egg. then, as suddenly as I thought about that mountain, I was running that way. no fatigue. no drumbeat underfoot. I came to another clearing. and heard the first sound in quite some time. stretched out, elongated, hanging like a weight on a cord.\n\n\"...Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive...\""
] | 1
|
|
[WP] "Every gleaming utopia has been built on a pile of doomsday weapons."
|
[
"Hey there everyone, do you want to get in on the great new housing trend? Well we have something new and amazing just for you. It's entirely self sufficient, located in the beautiful American heartland, offers complete security and the best privacy money can buy! Now that we've hit world peace we don't need these missile silos anymore and now they can be yours! All the electrical, plumbing, and security are all up to date! These silos will pass all code checks, protect you from all inclement weather and have the best back up systems anyone could possibly ask for. Now I know what you're thinking, what about all the radiation from those big bad nuclear missiles and I'm here to tell you to worry no more! The missiles were perfectly sealed and all possible exposed surfaces have been well scrubbed for your protection. There's built in satellite, short wave and broad band communication systems already installed that can handle a hundred times the standard civilian use. For the money you could spend on a two story mini mansion you can get ten stories of the ultimate security!! There's a limited amount of silos available all priced to sell and ready for you!!",
"\"My report is on guns,\" mumbled Rosa Reiner. \n\n\"Speak up a bit, dear,\" said Ms. Fleming from the back of the classroom. \"Nice and loud so we can all hear you.\"\n\nIt was nearly summer and the day was especially bright and blue. Reg Thon stared out the window, only half listening.\n\n\"Guns are ancient projectile weapons,\" said Rosa, a bit louder. \"They were basically a steel barrel and you put a projectile in - those were called *bullets* - and when you...you activated the firing mechanism, there was a small explosion and the *bullet* went flying out.\"\n\n\"Oooh,\" said Ms. Fleming. \"Very interesting. So the bullet went out and then what?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Rosa, flipping haphazardly through her notes. \"Well, the bullet came out and went very fast and then it would hit like a person or a wall or something. And the old guns weren't very good, because they only did one or two bullets, but then the later guns did more bullets and more faster.\"\n\nWally Gustor shook his head and rolled his eyes. \"Dumb dumb dumb,\" he whispered to Reg, though Reg wasn't really listening.\n\n\"But what did the bullets do?\" prompted Ms. Fleming, shooting Wally a meaningful look.\n\n\"They would go into people and explode,\" said Rosa, mimicking a small explosion with her hands. \"The little metal bits would go *pooooooooo*. And then they died.\"\n\n\"They died?\" said Ms. Fleming.\n\nRosa nodded.\n\n\"Did they do anything *before* they died?\"\n\nRosa's eyes widened in sudden remembrance. \"*Yes*. They bled. And sometimes...sometimes things would fall out. Like brains. Or their stomach or something. Depending where the bullet went.\" \n\n\"Sounds pretty messy,\" said Ms. Fleming with a smile. Ellis Gordon and Mindy Wyn both laughed, but they were doing it mostly because they thought they were supposed to.\n\n\"People were *dumb* back then,\" said Wally.\n\n\"No,\" said Ms. Fleming. \"That's just what they knew.\"\n\n\"So they hit each other with little balls of metal that exploded,\" said Reg, turning away from the window. \"And then they all bled all over the place and died with their guts everywhere?\"\n\nMs. Fleming nodded and shrugged. \"It was a different time.\"\n\n\"Did everybody have guns?\" asked Mindy.\n\n\"Not at first,\" said Rosa, excited to know the answer. \"First just army people had them. They fought wars with guns. But then regular people wanted them, too. It was a whole *thing*. People wanted guns. Other people didn't want those people to have guns. But then bad people had guns and they shot all these regular people who didn't have guns and everyone was mad with everyone.\"\n\n\"So who had guns?\" asked Reg.\n\n\"Well,\" said Rosa. \"Well, see, the bad people had guns. So then the good people all got guns, too. And then everyone had guns. So the good people could stop the bad people.\"\n\n\"I guess that makes sense,\" said Wally, though his face was still a bit twisted up in confusion.\n\n\"This part's very interesting, though,\" said Ms. Fleming. \"It's why I gave you this assignment, Rosa. What happened next?\"\n\nRosa took a breath. \"Well...everyone had guns, I guess. But then the bad guys got like...*better* guns? So everyone had to get better guns.\"\n\n\"*Automatic weapons*\" said Ms. Fleming. \"Sorry. Go on.\"\n\n\"So everyone had...*automaddic weapons*...and the good people could shoot the bad people just as good. But then the bad people made high concentration laser guns and those could just cut through people like...\" Rosa tried to snap her fingers, but could only produce a dry rubbing sound. \"So everybody got a laser gun.\"\n\n\"I know where this is going,\" muttered Reg. Ms. Fleming shushed him without looking.\n\n\"So *then* the bad people started using pulse cannons and defensive beam fields,\" said Rosa. \"Of course, good people got those, too, to be safer. I think that's when they started to do the...the air thing?\" She looked to Ms. Fleming.\n\n\"Biochemical weapons,\" said Ms. Fleming. \"Yes, that's when that started.\"\n\n\"So that's when people all started getting our tracheal implants, because of that. So we could still breath even with all the bad stuff in the air everywhere. And then after that...I think that's when we all got mech suits?\" Ms. Fleming nodded. \"Right, we all got nuclear-powered mech suits and our bionic sighting eyes with neural processing upgrades.\"\n\nRosa sagged slightly in her towering, steel polymer mech suit. \"I think that's it. Did I miss anything?\"\n\nMs. Fleming beamed. \"No, you did a marvelous job. Everyone give Rosa a hand.\"\n\nAnd the classroom was then filled with a cacophonous clatter, as 30 pairs of giant metal hands with optional rocket fingers all clapped as one. ",
"\"It's just a piece of metal, Alain.\" I said to him. \n\n\"MY FRIEND! Are you going to listen to me or are you going to question me EVERY step of the way?!\" Alain said back to me, he wasn't always the easiest to communicate with but the man was my business partner for thirty years, I can't just ignore him, \n\n\"Go ahead.\" \n\n\"Can I PLEASE explain this how I want too? Promise you won't say a word unless I ask?\" Alain sounded excited and he made me fly in from Swaziland to hear it, so I figured, what the hell. Let the man have his joy.\n\n\"I promise.\" \n\n\"Okay great. So, let's start at the beginning. Some caveman picked up an exceptionally heavy stone and became the strongest one in the tribe. Another caveman came in and picked up a long stick and used some roots to make a hammer, or something. I'm not a historian Johnny, stop pushing me!\" He said as he moved to his desk, taking out some papers. I gestured that my mouth was sealed but I couldn't help but laugh. \n\n\"Anyway. Then, we fast forward. Arrows, with arrows came shields, with shields came the cataphracts. See where I'm going with this? Ah you're too young to have taken history in school Johnny, you're too young!\" Alain said, getting agitated and tugging at the few remaining hairs he did have on his head. \n\n\"Jesus Christ, Alain, I know what a damn cataphract is. Just continue!\" I was getting excited to see where he was going with this. \n\n\"ANYWAY! Then we got to an explosion of military arsenals. We had the Klashinkov! We had tanks! We had aircrafts!\" He said and paused for a second, taking out a fountain pen. He also scanned his file for a piece of paper, once taken out, was shown to be a sketch of an airplane. He draws a few lines next to it and turns to me with the biggest, widest eyes I'v ever seen. They were bloodshot, as they always were when Alain decided to work on something.\n\n\"Johnny! What ruined the aircraft, Johnny? What did them in?\" He asked, the calmest he'd been since he started talking.\n\n\"Fuel prices?\" \n\n\"Anti-aircraft defenses! Anti-aircraft defenses! They were bloody genius! It pushed fighter planes places they never could've been without them! They found their shields, but afterwards, we worked on bombs. Big bombs! Rockets! Missiles! Anyway, anyway, anyway...We had the nuclear bomb and things were going completely great! Hiroshima made the world too scared to go to war again, remember? What's the problem with the threat of mutual destruction though?\" He had slowly traveled from madly screaming to a crawling whisper. I slowly began to see where he was going, and it wasn't somewhere pretty. I decided to humor him, this part I had actually studied in university.\n\n\"All it takes is for one party to be desperate.\" I replied to him, my voice shocking him back to awareness. \n\n\"YOU'RE ON THE MONEY, JOHNNY. YOU'RE SITTING ON THE FUCKING MONEY, JOHNNY! ONE. DESPERATE. PARTY. Now, Johnny. When the Kingdom of France won the third world war, what lead to their victory?\" He asked me, holding his breath.\n\n\"The satellites.\" I replied.\n\n\"What did the satellites do?\" He asked me.\n\n\"I don't know the specifics, I'm not a fucking scientist, Alain. Just continue.\" I asked, getting impatient.\n\n\"They pinpointed key locations and personnel in the war. Tranqthuliom, new form of energy harnessed, just like that. A beam of energy that supplies this entire fucking world a thousand times over. What did they do with this energy? Militarize it, of course! It shot down 53 presidents in a quarter of a second! They did that just to show off their accuracy! They burned down Berlin! New York! Toronto! Just to show that they could!\" He said. \n\n\"That's right...Before they took over, a lot of war happened. A lot of people died, Alain. Get to your point.\" Alain was starting to look less eccentric and more crazed, even to me. \n\n\"What's my point? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT'S MY POINT? Come with me, Alain! Come!\" He grabs my shirt and pulls me to his balcony. From there, we overlooked the capital of Marseille III, formerly Abuja. The grand city of gold, the hub of trade and commerce in Africa. What was once a developing country turned into a paradise in 10 years. I was around when Nigeria decided to join the Kingdom, I was here when the Kingdom decided to enlighten the people who lived here. Majestic skyscrapers littering the horizon, it was a true beauty to see. \n\nAlain was too close to the railing, half of him hanging over, he was laughing. \n\n\"Johnny! How did we get rich, Johnny?\" He asked me as he pulled himself back up. \n\n\"We found ways to recycle weapons Alain. To strip the countries that joined the Kingdom. Where are you going with this?\" I asked, now, he had me in a frenzy. I found myself almost screaming at him.\n\n\"ALAIN, WE SCRAPPED THE METAL, NO NEED TO MAKE IT GLAMOROUS. Now! We know the Kingdoms power. We know it. We had the opportunity to study our entire lives and in the Kingdom, our money means nothing! We just have a larger stretch of land to sit around and do nothing in! Now, Johnny. What did the Phoenicians have?\" He asks, not waiting for an answer.\n\n\"Ships! Carthaginians had elephants! THEN! America had the atom bomb and now the Kingdom has Tranqthuliom! All of them, dominant at some point! Something has to tip the balance! I know it, Johnny, I know it! Something has to counter-act the dominance before something else replaces it!\" He pulls me back to that stretch of metal, like a poorly shaped dagger. \n\n\"Alain, you're sounding insane, have you told this to anyone else? What's come into you?\" I asked, I couldn't let my partner get executed for conspiring. I didn't even know why he would want to conspire.\n\nHe picked up the metal, and spun it. It remained spinning in the air, just levitating and spinning. Faster and faster. It silenced me.\n\n\"I found them in Chile, a group of metal just spinning and spinning. No one knew why, but I did. I did, Johnny. The waves, someone somewhere has to speak to those...satellites. Right, Johnny? I started researching, and the damage in Toronto wasn't equal Johnny. It wasn't distributed equally. This blocks some of the Tranqthuliom gushing in. It stops the waves from reaching us. We can do it, Johnny. We can TIP THE BALANCE! PUSH THE WORLD INTO ANOTHER NEW AGE! WE CAN-...\" He stops speaking suddenly. \n\nHe runs to his desk and pulls out his passport and a bag of rocks.\n\n\"We're going to Chile tomorrow with our old team...the Kingdom is showing the rest of the world some mercy. They're going to try to enlighten Chile next, and we're part of that movement, Johnny. We're geologists now.\" He said quietly. \n\nThe old man made us anything but geologists."
] | 3
|
|
[WP] Believing that it is impossible to travel faster than the speed of light, humans have sent an arch occupied by millions of people to a 700 years travel for the nearest habitable system. It has been 500 years, and you just built the first working hyperspace travel engine.
|
[
"I remember being a boy and reading about the heroes of the 21st century. Their fervor resonated through the ages—a beacon of our ultimate, united fate. Wars stopped after that fateful launch day. Forever...\n\nCaptain Darren \"Star-born\" Crawford was the legendary man who made it all happen. The economic system of old was pretty complex, even by today's standards, so very few people even understand how it really worked. Unfortunately, a large portion of Old Earth's documents have not been decipherable due to hyperencryption policies of the mid 21st century, making the situation even more complex. From what we know, though, Captain Crawford was able to convince several large space conglomerates to back his call to deep space colonization. \n\nBy the mid 21st century, humans had already accomplished the astonishing feat of extraterrestrial colonization on both the Moon and Mars. Crawford pushed to the stars so intensely he earned the nickname \"Star-Born.\" \n\nFive hundred years ago on January 1, 2063, Captain Star-born lead an ark of a million men and a million women on the fabled *Lady of the Black*. The ship was bold, striking, and utterly massive. It was essentially a flying city, but driven purely by the impressive Anti-Grav drives developed for the project. \n\nFollowing remarkable experiments performed by a multinational team of scientists, they discovered how to unwrap space time and \"push\" off gravitational field lines. Well...it is much more complex than that, but with that they were able to safely propel themselves into the black as softly as a lady's embrace, as it was said. \n\nThey are still out there, on route to the Alpha Centauri system. They are still about two hundred years away with current estimates, but all that is about to change...\n\nAs a Fellow of the Galactic Engineers Cooperative, I have the unique privilege of having my own private laboratory to conduct experiments to my liking. Honestly, that's how they phrased it! Using the fact that space could be unwrapped, I conducted experiments to unwrap photonic exchanges between other forms of energy, in particular, matter itself. The results were astonishing. When unwrapped, the space simply vanished, and one object essentially teleported to the other, with *zero* contact force other than gravity, which could then be made null. \n\nIn effect, I had discovered some form of instantaneous travel, and I quickly published my findings. The response was tremendous. Ships were fitted with drives capable of creating virtual point masses to warp to, taking space and exploration to a new height. \n\nFor a long time, we didn't know if we should make physical contact with either the *Lady of the Black* or Alpha Centauri. We feared that they might see it as a wasted purpose and seek to destroy themselves or us, for that matter. But we had to tell them their journey could end quickly. \n\nWe fitted our best ships in the fleet to carry the mission out. They dutifully warped for days to find them, taking the time to properly inspect the Great Black. On the seventh day, the fleet located the remains of the *Lady of the Black*, her body shattered and her crew surrounding. There were countless dead littering the site. \n\nAfter the initial shock of the discovery, the fleet investigated the remains and collected several occupied life pods, with most of them occupied with more of the fateless dead. There were just a handful of survivors. \n\nThey spoke of a great alien fleet that fronted them, taking them by surprise. They were sent a message that was decrypted before their annihilation:\n\n*You have gone too far*. \n\n*Edit* A word"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Write a story ending with: He was the quack whom I had to duck.
|
[
"I'm in a foul mood. My career is treading water over here. Some sort of loon of a psychologist is claiming they stumbled onto a connection between mental health, seared meats, and toasted breads or some shit, mallard reaction he called it. Thinks its going to be the next big fad diet, wants to get his half-cocked ideas published, and isn't taking no for an answer. We crossed over once before when I had been sent out to get some cheap experts to pen chapters in an encyclopedia of all blooming flowers, there was talk about getting the whole Jungian archetype stuff, flower symbolism, the relation of flowers to human psychology, smart sounding shit to pad it out for the yokels. Guy was just too sensitive, every little note and he would just start crack up, full on tortured genius missing the genius. Had to walk on eggshells for work that wasn't even up to our lax standards. So I had the unpheasant job of telling him it was over. Weirdly I think he saw it as \"powers beyond my control are taking this chance away to work together\", so he didn't squabble. As far as he figured I was suffering with him, birds of a feather and all that. So somehow after a terrible experience working with him, after firing him, its all just water off a duck's back and he thinks of me as an ally. So now that he thinks he's got a golden goose he keeps trying to catch me around town and trap me into taking a few shots at the bar. \n\nSo listen, I'm begging you here, for old time's sake your career is going great, just dive on this one for me. Just tell this guy you're interested, make him think you're willing to poach this rotten egg. Just tie him up for a couple months, sell him a bill of goods. My great and eternal thanks will be yours. Just please help me to duck this quack. "
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You are trapped in a room with a box labelled 'Do Not Open'
|
[
"It had the words 'Do not open' branded on it's surface. Despite this the lid was held down by only a small latch. Anyone who wished to open the box easily could, provided they had fingers of course. \n\nI stood staring at it for a few seconds, wondering why it should remain closed but with such little security. The clear instructions and almost contradictory latch seemed to test the very nature of humanity. To go beyond limits, to discover, our curiosity has been our weapon and our tool for centuries. Then why must I ignore it now? \n\nIt was after about 2 minutes I decided that if it seriously posed some sort of threat, or needed to remain closed at all costs it would surely be secured with some sort of lock, or put in a safe.\n\nI slowly lifted the latch, it readily clicked open as if to reassure me that I'd made the right decision. \n\nI paused, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. \n\nIt was....it was empty. Huh. I began to wonder whether it ever held anything, whether it was intended to but never allowed to fill it's purpose for whatever reason. I suppose I'll never know.\nSo with that I lowered the lid, clicked the latch back into place, and I left.\n",
"You're in an empty, blank room, with the exception of a small, patterned wooden box with an inscription on it reading, \"Do not open.\" \n\nYou stare at the intricate little box with the elegant script. You run your fingers down the designs and let your hands find their way to the simple gold latch in the front. You flip it open and shut, without letting the lid itself move an inch. \n\nFrustrated, you move away from the box. You understand the directions perfectly, but not the reasoning behind them. Why would anyone leave anything of importance alone with only you to guard? \n\nFinally, you let your curiosity get the best of you, and you run over and snatch it. The lid lifts, and at first you see nothing inside. You sigh, disappointed that there's no jewels or gold, or anything of importance. But seconds later, you feel a horrible pain. Things you never knew existed started inflicting themselves around and upon you such as disease, hunger, famine, hardships. \n\nHurriedly you slam the lid shut, but something slams against the sides of box, begging to be released. You move away from it, crying, deciding never to let your curiosity get the best of you again. \n\nAfter a while, the pain becomes more tolerable. You realize you're getting better, but you're forced to stay in the room, listening to the cries of whatever small creature was entrapped in there. She says her name is Hope, and she can heal all your wounds and your pain for good, only if you let her go. \n\nTrembling, you find your way back over to the box. It seemed like such an easy solution, a quick fix to all of your pain and your hardships. That was, if she was honest. You run your fingers over the latch once more, before flinching away as if it had stung you. \n\nYou decide you don't want to release Hope, in case she flies away like all the others. You let the idea sink in. You don't want to lose hope. It could be just as destructive as it was releasing the others. \n\nSo you find your place back against the wall once more, still trapped in the room. You listen to Hope's pleading and begging with a stubborn heart. You won't lose Hope. \n\nYou manage to keep this resolve for most of your life, and Hope's cries to be released dim over time until one day they silence completely. You close your eyes, relieved for the silence and peace that you'd been missing, and you wonder what will happen to you now. \n\nYou realize your room is very similar to the inside of the box you opened once, a long time ago. You look at the empty space around you, and then toward the lines where the ceiling and the walls meet. You start to ponder the absurdity of the idea that you were trapped in a box as well, when a fleeting idea comes to mind. Was it possible that you had become Hope?",
"Do not open.\n\nDo NOT open.\n\nDo not OPEN.\n\nDO not open.\n\nDO NOT open.\n\nDo NOT OPEN.\n\nDO not OPEN.\n\nThe last one almost got him, but not as much as the abject silence and emptiness he'd been in for the... shit, he'd lost track again. Why was he in here? What was in that box? Honestly, he didn't even care at this point; when he'd found out there wasn't any visible or hidden way out of the room he'd resigned himself to inaction, and so now just sat in a slump in a corner, staring at the box.\n\nHe wished he had more reading material aside from the box, he'd already read it in every possible way... *Sigh*, oh well.\n\nDo NOT open.\n\nDO NOT open.\n\nDo NOt OPen.\n\nDO nOT OpeN.\n\nDo NoT OpEn...",
"As he walked into the small room near the bottom of the dungeon, he heard a quiet click and a large metallic crash. God damn it. The large iron door had fallen shut behind him. It was then that he realized that he had stepped on and activated a pressure switch when he walked in the room. He had been so foolish. All he was thinking about was loot. He had seen the chest and immediately abandoned caution, and now he was trapped. But at least he had whatever was in the chest. It was a smallish chest with a curved top. It was short and wide and so very tempting to open. Just imagine what loot could be inside. As he was about to open it he noticed a message written in what appeared to be orange chalk on the floor in front of the chest. \n\"Be wary of opening.\"\nHe had seen messages like this before, but most were nonsense advertising secret passageways that didn't exist and persuading people to do inappropriate things to others posteriors. He decided to ignore it. He reached forward and begun to open the chest. The excitement building in him ready to burst. What could be in the chest. Armor or unique new weapon. Maybe a key to a secret location. Maybe a scroll that could teach him powerful new spells. He was so excited about the possible contents of the chest he never noticed the small chain protruding from the right side of the chest. The chain was pointing right at him. "
] | 4
|
|
[WP] You are a time traveller in charge of slightly altering the past. Your plan goes wrong when the world drastically changes, all because you changed "The Berenstein Bears" to "The Berenstain Bears"
|
[
"If anyone reads this, two things will have occured. First of all, I have successfully saved the world from certain destruction (you're welcome by the way). However, I will unfortunately most likely be dead. Therefore I have decided to go on record and write this final message in order to explain where everything went wrong.\n\nTo begin with, there's a couple of things you need to know about me and my somewhat unusual occupation. My name is Alan Long and I work for the G.T.A.O (The Global Time Adjustment Organisation). It was founded in 2086; just two years after the discovery of time travel; and it's purpose is to make changes to the timeline that lies in the world's best interest. \n\nThe G.T.A.O has two major departments. The first one is called the butterfly department; their job is to make small changes to the time line, whose consequences will have a greater impact later on (For example: ever heard about the 1988 Amsterdam bombings? Of course not, they never happened; all thanks to the G.T.A.O agent that went back to 1930's France and stole an apple).\n\nI, however, work for the Schrodinger department. Our job is a bit more extreme. We make small changes as well, but not in the same way. You see, every choice we make in life splits the universe into two separate planes of existence (i.e one universe where the cat lives, another where it dies). Whenever a situation is deemed to risky for the butterfly department to fix, they call in us. We don't change anything in our universe, instead we move our universe to another plane of existence where the thing we want avoid happening never will. This requires a lot of energy though, so we only use it for emergencies. (A common side effect to this is a phenomena called \"the mandela effect\").\n\nAnd boy, was this an emergency. In 2094 95% of the world population got infected by a terminal disease called Pedoma. The virus had accidentally been created in a lab one year prior; and none of the changes the butterfly department made worked, the virus somehow always got out. \n\nThat's where yours truly comes in. You see, I had calculated that a 3.2 degree shift of the existential plane was enough to reach a time line where Pedoma wasn't created (I'm sorry for using terms that may sound a bit foreign to people from 2016, but I don't know how to explain it any better). \n\nAnyway, in order to shift our plane of existence we first have to be present at a so called 'shrodinger split' and then, at the exact moment of separation, \"hitchhike\" with the universe that isn't our own (this is what I referred to when I said that it takes a lot of energy). \n\nSince I needed a 3.2 degree shift (a pretty small number), I had to be present when a pretty insignificant choice was made in order to get a match. The closest I could come was the moment the author of \"The Berenstein Bears\" decided on the spelling, which would generate a 3.198 degree split (close enough).\n\nSo I went back to the 1950's in my time machine (and if you haaave to know, they kinda look like UFO's). From inside my cockpit I then scanned for multi dimensional activity. Now, this is where it all went to shit. Whenever you hitchhike with an universal split it's very important not to doze off. If you do, the universe you want to move won't be able to stop moving since that requires a manual push of a button (a bit of a design flaw if you ask me). To prevent this, the G.T.A.O agents undergoes a lot of physical training, since time travel is a bit of a bumpy ride.\n\nI dozed off...\n\nWhen I woke up, our universe had moved 943 degrees. All you need to know in order to grasp how serious this was is that when you reach 1000+ degrees, the universe can't exist. I managed to stop the shift, but the time line we'd arrived in was too unlike our own. You see, greater number of degrees means greater differences in time lines. This new time line didn't share any aspects of our own after 4000 B.C. \n\nNow there is emergency energy saved for these types of situations, but there is a couple of problems. Since the difference in time lines was so big, the merging of the two would most certainly destroy them both. And the merging process starts immedietly upon arrival, so time was now working against me (oh, the irony). Another problem is that our machines aren't built for two runs so close to each other; which means that I would only be able to drop our universe off in passing, with me and my machine continuing on without it until I reach the point below 0 degrees, by which point I will be erased from any existence. \n\nI'm currently writing this as I'm traveling closer and closer to the 3.198 degree zone (I just passed 90.5). If you read this in a time line where it's spelled \"The Berenstain Bears\", you'll know I succeeded.\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Apathy has reached dangerously high levels.
|
[
"The world is going to end tomorrow, but I just can't get worked up about it. There's nothing I can do, you know, so ... \"why bother?\" \n \nNo one else feels the same as I do -- because there's no one else left. \n \nNo, they didn't die. I don't think so, anyway. I checked around town for about five minutes, but there were no corpses. No people, but no corpses. \n \nNo pets, either. \n \nIn the whole world, at least as far as I checked, it was just me and my goldfish, Goldie. In all this time, I never did come up with a name for him, her, it, whatever ... so Goldie stuck. It was better than \"Hey, you\" anyway. \n \nNot that Goldie cared one way or another, of course. Boring, apathetic pets, goldfish - just eat and swim around in lethargic circles. \n \nA bit like my life, that. Just with more swimming. I had never bothered to learn. \n \nTV didn't work and radio was nothing but static. That's how I knew it was the whole world. Even the internet was dead. More than that, even books and newspapers were blank, the text and pictures all gone. \n \nHow do I know the world's going to end? What else does a big red flashing \"[SERVER SHUTDOWN IN 24:00:00]\" hanging over town mean? \n \nYeah, there's a story behind all that, but, really, who cares? \n \nI already know it and Goldie doesn't care. And there's no one else to care. \n \nI think I'll take a nap.\n",
"He stood up on his podium, and took a deep breath. He remembered his grandfather giving this exact same speech, many, many years ago. He hoped it would have the same impact that it did once before. \n\n\"What is indifference? Etymologically, the word means \"no difference.\" A strange and unnatural state in which the lines blur between light and darkness, dusk and dawn, crime and punishment, cruelty and compassion, good and evil. What are its courses and inescapable consequences? Is it a philosophy? Is there a philosophy of indifference conceivable? Can one possibly view indifference as a virtue? Is it necessary at times to practice it simply to keep one's sanity, live normally, enjoy a fine meal and a glass of wine, as the world around us experiences harrowing upheavals?\n\n\"Of course, indifference can be tempting -- more than that, seductive. It is so much easier to look away from victims. It is so much easier to avoid such rude interruptions to our work, our dreams, our hopes. It is, after all, awkward, troublesome, to be involved in another person's pain and despair. Yet, for the person who is indifferent, his or her neighbor are of no consequence. And, therefore, their lives are meaningless. \n\n\"In a way, to be indifferent to that suffering is what makes the human being inhuman. Indifference, after all, is more dangerous than anger and hatred. Anger can at times be creative. One writes a great poem, a great symphony. One does something special for the sake of humanity because one is angry at the injustice that one witnesses. But indifference is never creative. Even hatred at times may elicit a response. You fight it. You denounce it. You disarm it.\n\n\"Indifference elicits no response. Indifference is not a response. Indifference is not a beginning; it is an end. And, therefore, indifference is always the friend of the enemy, for it benefits the aggressor -- never his victim, whose pain is magnified when he or she feels forgotten. The political prisoner in his cell, the hungry children, the homeless refugees -- not to respond to their plight, not to relieve their solitude by offering them a spark of hope is to exile them from human memory. And in denying their humanity, we betray our own.\"\n\nHe looked out into the crowd with a shred of hope. He'd hoped for some spark of passion, for tears, anything. Instead, all the members of the government sat, bored, looking unmoved and unprovoked. His heart broke. That was his last chance to convince any of them. He remembered how once, long ago, the decision to release a weapon of mass destruction would have been made with more serious consideration. He watched the president meet the gazes of the members of congress, who all nodded one by one. \n\nThen finally, the president looked back to him and shrugged his apology, apparently without the resolve to look in the least bit apologetic. He sighed. His grandfather would have been disappointed. At least he still got to see history in the making. How the world ended with a simple shrug. ",
"Erik watched her cry. It was uncomfortable. He felt uncomfortable a lot. That was how his mind translated his emotional void coming in contact with a gushing fountain of emotion. It wasn't painful, it was just tiring. Exhausting really. Why did everyone have to FEEL so much? Erik did worry about his mental state sometimes, but honestly he felt like everyone else was broken, not him. And Natalie was a prime example. He LIKED Natalie, but that just \"made it worse.\" She smashed her heart open on his like a ship on a reef and of course it was the reef's fault. What was so \"healthy\" about living like that? Everybody around him seems like an emotional minefield filled with hatred and blind passion. And, lately, filled with worry about Erik's attitude. It seems strange that people should get so uptight about valuing reason and devaluing transient, wayward emotions. Not for the first time, th- OH Damn, Natalie is still talking?",
"“Eh, whatever.” \n\nThe intelligence officer looked at the President over his glasses.\n\n“Did you just say *whatever*?”\n\n“Yeah. I mean...whats the point, anyway?”\n\nA pile of manila folders slammed onto the desk.\n\n“*This* is what's important. *This* is the next federal budget. We've already extended the deadline, twice, and congress expects us to have a full proposal by-\n\n“Look, those guys can get their own money. From businesses and stuff.”\n\n“*Those guys*?! Those guys are the *legislative branch*! They practically run our **entire government!**”\n\n“No, I do. I'm the president. And I decree...I can decree stuff, right, that those government guys can get their money from somebody else.”\n\nThe intelligence officer had entered the period of anger and disbelief where all that could be done was to foam at the mouth.\n\n“Look, don't worry. I'll make it better. Today is also going to be National Taco Day! Everyone's going to get a free taco, it's-”\n\n“**I WILL NOT LET YOU UNDERMINE OUR DEMOCRACY**”\n\n“Sounds like you need a Taco.”",
"So this is the way the world ends.\n\nNo one really noticed the first wave, when Universities across the country reported a pass rate for final exams of roughly 12%. Midterms next semester might have gotten people to notice, except the Universities didn't bother reporting on anything.\n\nThe election here in the States should have been the next big warning flag, but nobody really had high hopes for it anyway. Still, we expected more than a quarter of eligible voters to show up, and I personally expected more of an outcry when that idiot won. But at that point, nobody seemed to care.\n\nI think people started worrying... well, the people still energetic enough to do so... after the wars started petering out. First it was the soldiers that didn't want to be there, so they left. Then the people fighting for god or country or food or whatever stopped too. There was that story of the guy who just went around a city block executing people, nobody really running away, before he just got bored and sat down. That was when it got scary... but not scary enough for anyone to do anything.\n\nThe researchers who might've stopped it were simply too late; their labs were empty and their papers unpublished. Last I heard the few that were clinging to sanity were pooling their efforts to reverse this... thing. The broadcast they sent told us what it was but I don't remember, I think I stopped listening.\n\nI lost interest in marking the calendar after the TV networks went off the air. I'm pretty sure that they stopped restocking the supermarkets before that, and that the water and electricity went out a few weeks later. It's funny, you can still find plenty of food in the stores. You might think that they'd be looted clean with no cashiers or security, but I'm pretty sure most people are just too lazy to eat.\n\nI've seen at least one person just stop on the sidewalk and lay down. She's probably dead now. I remember feeling vaguely like I should help but... eh... what's the point?\n\nThere's been other things that happened but frankly writing this is exhausting. I'm going to bed now, and with the way the world is looking it seems like I won't be getting up. Oh well.\n\nThis is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a \"whatever.\""
] | 5
|
|
[WP] "FLIGHT" A story about a person fleeing aboard a plane.
|
[
"I gaze out the window, ignoring the tinny whine of the onboard movie. An endless expanse of billowing white and soft blues, a peaceful vista clashing with the thoughts raging through my mind.\n\n*The white room. Beeping machines. Silence. Doctor in white. Empty words.*\n\n\nA patchwork of fields with flowing seams stretches below, each second bearing me further from that moment, transporting me through space and time.\n\n*The white paper. Scratch of the pen. Silence. Doctor in white. Empty words.*\n\nThe ocean rises up, swallowing the coastline. An endless embrace, a futile battle between two elements.\n\n*The white faces. Wail of tears. Silence. Doctor in white. Empty words.*\n\nI close my eyes.\n "
] | 1
|
|
[WP]. A 29 year old woman wakes up alone in her apartment after a very long and strange dream to find her skin turning green and peeling with a pungent odor. She goes to her doctor for the skin issues and to his shock, and all of the staff, he cannot find a pulse.
|
[
"\"Okay, what do we have here\" The doctor looked at his notes. \"So you've never experienced this before ma'am?\"\n\n\"No I have not\" said the green skinned lady sitting in front of him.\n\n\"It says here that you \"turned green after a quick nap\" and that your body \"smells like something sent from hell\" is that correct?.\" he said while trying to hold his breath from the odor emitting from the lady\n\n\"Yes that's correct\" the lady said almost about to tear up.\n\n\"What's your name ma'am?\" said the doctor.\n\n\"My name is Fiona, Princess Fiona\" Fiona said \n\n\"Well, you know what, we'll fix this, I'm just going to take a quick pulse and maybe a skin sample if that's okay?\" the doctor said with a smile while he tried to withstand the urge to puke. The doctor took his medical equipment and pulled out his stethoscope. \n\n\"I'm sorry mam but I can't find a pulse\" he said while trying to desperately find a pulse inside of the stinking lady. \"Ohh well I think we have to head right to the skin sample.\" He pulled out his scalpel and started to remove a bit of dead skin, and another bit and another. \n\n\"Your skin seems to be in layers, like, like an onion!\" the doctor said. \"I've seen this once before, the disease is called Septoclimactic Heart and Radioactive Ecchymosis Karyotype Otherwise known as S.H.R.E.K disorder, I'm sorry but's it's untreatable, bye\" \n\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Someone gives you a $100 bill, and you think it's your lucky day. Later you notice "SORRY" in red on the back...
|
[
"I stood on the corner of Gates and Wilson Ave, still unsure of what to think of the strange man who had, while bustling by, shoved a crisp $100 bill into my open left hand. \n\n\"What?\"\n\nMoments later, after quickly looking over the bill and stuffing it into my pocket, I found myself walking through town, stopping at the run down Italian restaurant that i often stopped by after work.\n\n\"Same as usual, Vinny, I'll take it to go.\"\n\nAs i handed over the bill to pay for my italian sandwich and coke, I realized that I had not even bothered to check the back of the bill. Scrawled across the back was the word \"SORRY\"\n\nI immediately hesitated, but it was too late, Vinny had grabbed the bill, shoved it in the register and had the change and the sandwich in my hands before I had enough time to process what had happened. \n\n\"Thanks, see you tomorrow Vin.\" His response sounded muddled, I couldn't concentrate on anything as I was deep in thought. What could \"SORRY\" mean? Was It stolen money?\n\nAfter two or three steps out of the restaurant, I looked down as 3 of the fingers on my left hand began to feel numb. I couldn't move them. I panicked and dropped the bag of food, unable to keep my grip on it as the three fingers seemed to move and flex under someone else's control.\n\n\"Wh- What the hell is going on?\" I grabbed my hand, unable to suppress the fingers that seemed to have a mind of their own. The numbing spread to the rest of the hand and I collapsed to the ground in shock.\n\nAll I could see was black until a large number dial faded in to sight. On the rolling sections, the number \"100\" was printed next to a dollar and a percent sign. The number began to dial back slowly until it hit \"$92.45%\"\n\nWhen I awoke, I began to frantically count the change that i had received from the Italian restaurant. All the while, my left hand moving in large circles as if it were busy washing a table or cleaning a counter top. \n\n\"Ninety two dollars and forty five cents...\" I said quietly, realizing that the number that I had seen correlated with the amount of change I had left.\n\n\"My hand.... It. must be imitating what Vinny is doing...\" I became panicked, and i began to run, to the first person i could find. I needed to get rid of this money. If I spent it, I would sell the control of part of my body as well. I tripped and the money flew forth from my hand, landing into the donation bucket of a nearby street mime.\n\nI woke up again after another black out. I could see, but i couldn't move my eyes. I could feel again but i couldn't control my body. My eyes shifted over and focused in on the mime, who's eyes met mine as a wicked grin crept across his face\" \n\n((This is my first response. I've always wanted to write stuff, but i could never get myself to start doing it. I figured doing these prompts every now and then could help develop my writing. criticism and guidance in messages is welcomed and encouraged. Thank you for reading.))",
"As I was walking home after work, I saw a man with bags under his bloodshot eyes. He handed me a 100 dollar bill.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I asked him, looking uncertain.\n\n\"Just take it.\" The guy shouted, running away.\n\nI started to argue, but realized that it was $100, and went on my way. As I arrived home, I was examining it. On the back, I then saw something very strange. It said \"SORRY\", scribbled on red sharpie. I just assume the guy was off his rocker. I went up to bed.\n\nWhen I woke up and went downstairs the next day, I looked and the bill and laughed. I flipped it back to the front, surprised to see that Benjamin Franklin was missing.\n\n\"What the-\" I started.\n\n\"TALLY HO DEAR LAD! TIS I, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!\" I heard a voice.\n\nI shouted in response, looking around. Then I saw him, Benjamin Franklin, tinted green.\n\n\"Hey man, what the fuck are you doing in my house?\" I was worried, fearing a robbery.\n\n\"OI LAD, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I FOUNDED THE LAND THIS HOUSE WAS BUILT ON. SO, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!\" He shouted.\n\nI was still majorly freaked out, so I nodded, slowly backing out of the house. I closed the door, and looked up at the window. Benjamin was looking back at me.\n\n\"I RETRACT MY ANGER, LAD. YOU ARE ALLOWED TO REENTER THE PREMISES.\" He said, his voice muffled by the window.\n\nI had no clue what was going on, but didn't want to anger him, so i went back into the house. It was like taking care of a little kid, with benjamin being finicky about everything. Until, I had an idea. I threw the bill at Benjamin. He got sucked into it.\n\nI folded it and used a rubber band to keep it shut as I drove to the closest local museum. Once in, I searched for a staff member, and opened up the bill. As I had hoped, Benjamin hopped out.\n\n\"TALLY HO DEAR LAD! TIS I, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!\" He shouted. As the guard approached him, he stepped back in disbelief as he saw Benjamin. I quickly handed the bill over and ran out of the museum.\n\nI was stopped by the museum's owner, who was watching from a distance. He thanked me, by giving me a generous payback of $1,000. Once back at my house I left them in my living room, and headed out for a quick dinner.\n\nWhen I came back from dinner I heard a ton of shouting inside. I tensed myself up, ready for a fight, and when I got, I saw it. 10 Benjamin Franklins.\n\n\"TALLY HO DEAR LAD! TIS I, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!\" They all shouted."
] | 2
|
|
[WP] Scientists have invented a machine that lets you see your inevitable death before it happens. One day, while living life like normal, you start to notice details of your death all converging around you.
|
[
"*BANG!* Aaron jumped, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. \"*Wait, Was that*...\" the thought was only half-formed in his mind before he stuck his head out of the window and his fears were confirmed unfounded. Several stories below his window was a car slowly moving away, logic dictated that it had just backfired: no foul play. \n\nSeeing your own death did this to you. Studies had been run by the dozen and each seemed to come up with the result that the Delphi machine was a positive influence on society - people became much less cautious and bigger risks were undertaken all in the knowledge that they wouldn't lead to fatalities. This was a boon for society - if a man knew that his death involved drowning in the ocean then he could happily work at a nuclear power station completely without safety gear, saving money and time. Aaron's own father had known that his inevitable demise involved immolation so he had been blasé about rock climbing without so much as a helmet but terrified about sitting in the front row at major sporting events. Aaron's parents had let him and his friends play football in the street all day because they knew that his death would not come by a speeding car or a kindly stranger with a panel van - there was a clear sequence of events: the gunshot, blood spilling under the door, the baby crying, Aaron's body laying supine on the ground and a solitary cigarette falling to the ground. You only saw flashes, glimpses on the day of your death - it wasn't like a feature-length, exposition-filled movie, you had to extrapolate from the information you had. From the gunshot, blood spilling under the door and the sound of a crying baby, Aaron had inferred that, at some point later in his life, he would have a family that would be murdered around him. Logically, he had, as a child, decided not to have a family - it wasn't that easy. Many before him had tried to cheat death by using the information they had been given. It never worked.\n\nAaron's thoughts were abruptly returned to the present by the plaintive sound of a baby's wailing. He was paralyzed, feeling like he had just been doused in freezing water. Aaron swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. As he stood, he looked about him - trying to ascertain where the sound had come from. Tentatively, he crept over to the west-facing wall of his flat. Often his neighbor in 5C would have the TV on too loud - for all Aaron knew, he was a big fan of '*One Born Every Minute*\". \"Oi!\" he exclaimed \"Turn it down,\" there was a brief moment of commotion as the noise of the baby got louder and then there was silence.\n\nRelieved, Aaron moved over to his desk, making a mental note to complain to his landlord about the noise. He tried to return to his work but the thought kept niggling away at the back of his mind - \"*What if that wasn't the TV?*\" Finally he could take it no more and he opened his front door, went over to his neighbour's and politely knocked on the door. \"*Sorry about earlier but I just have to ask, do you have...*\" He trailed off, horrified.\n\nHe was standing in a pool of blood.\n\nAaron, his thoughts awash with panic, immediately tried to run but he slipped on the claret liquid that had seeped under the door. Suddenly he was covered in it, he thrashed about, heart beating like a frenzied drum solo. All of a sudden, the light from the single incandescent bulb above him was eclipsed. He turned his head to see a pair of black, scuffed boots. The figure above him uttered a deep grunt and, as he moved to the side, the light glinted off the barrel of a gun. Also, as the figure moved to the side, Aaron could now see inside his neighbour's flat - he could see the body of a man lying stock still just behind the front door, as if he had been shot immediately upon opening it, but what Aaron saw next was the worst. Right at the back of the apartment, near the fire escape, was a crib. \n\nHe didn't have time to reflect on the horrifying implications because the next thing he heard was a sharp crack and he felt a searing pain in his abdomen. He coughed and blood dribbled from his cracked lips. The man laughed - a cruel, harsh sound. Aaron summoned the last of his energy to roll onto his back and watch the figure depart. As his vision began to grow dim, he watched the stranger's broad back recede further and further down the corridor. The man flicked something over his shoulder but Aaron couldn't make it out. That is, until it hit the ground with a soft hiss and then he saw the glowing ashes held in place by yellowed paper.\n\nAs life left his body, the last thing Aaron Tshibola ever saw was that solitary point of light, slowly dwindling, until, at last, that light was forever extinguished. "
] | 1
|
|
[WP] It is discovered that dark matter is comprised of the souls of all things.
|
[
"The man who has taken the stage was not used to it. His name was Lenny. \n\nHe was not comfortable with the size of the crowd, full of journalists and their accompanying photographers with giant cameras. The saving grace was how the cameras seemed to block out everyone else at the back from his heavily myopic vision. At least for now, before the click of the shutters and dazzling flashes. \n\nFew men were not built for the rostrum, and Lenny was one of them. It was too tall for him and when he stepped behind it the journalists jostled for a better angle to immortalise him and this moment with. It was mostly half-hearted and driven more by their professional standards than the expectation of actual newsworthy material. After all, this was kept entirely under wraps.\n\nThe secret service was in the crowd. As were several other outfits that were only known to him by a mission-specific code name. In short, they were monitoring the sensitivity of this news. The leaders of various religious groups have been consulted, but their believers may not be quite as rational or mild as they were. \n\nLenny pushed his glasses up the steep bridge of his nose. It did not hesitate before sliding back down from emerging sweat. \n\nHis head drooped as he examined the first sentence of his script, which had been amended by a media consultant. He addressed the crowd with a shaky beginning, like anyone who was uncomfortable hearing their own magnified voice and wondering how anyone could be comfortable having such attention on them.\n\n“T-Thank you all for coming. We are here today to announce an astounding breakthrough in astrophysics.” He omitted the “that is going to change the world as we know it.” Backstage, the team that had not slept in the past 60 hours or so cringed collectively in their huddle.\n\n“We have drawn conjectures of the unperceivable mass in the world for a while now. Most of us know it by the name of ‘dark matter’. We have now confirmed successful *communication* with the counterpart belonging to that category. The counterpart is sentient and we call it *dark life*.”\n\n“There are two additional crucial points that we would like to highlight. Firstly, dark matter makes up most of the mass in the known universe. We have known this for a while by observing the effects of gravity on observable celestial objects. What this means is that unless there are other sources of dark matter, we have also just discovered extra-terrestrial life. Too much is unknown for us to come to a meaningful conclusion for now.” The last sentence replaced two sentences from the draft, “We are not alone, it seems. The universe is quite a lively place.”\n\nLenny had their attention now. The crowd was silently fixated on him, devices recording and pencils scribbling furiously.\n\n“Secondly,” he gulped because the stern men of the secret service had warned him that this part must be delivered with exquisite care. “We have strong reason to believe that *dark life* is comprised of the will of those who have passed away. In other words, *dark life* is afterlife.”\n\n*I see that you’ve found them.*\n\nThe clamouring crowd had gone silent. The flashes paused. From amidst the crowd, it suddenly became apparent that there was a figure who was too tall. His voice was soft and pierced the air like he was whispering into your ear. The shadows of his cheeks were more visible than the protruding cheekbones themselves, as if darkness favoured him more than light. \n\n*You’ve found my stash.*\n\n---\n\nI am building the Rift-Edoras universe, prompt by prompt. Second drafts eventually go [here](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com)."
] | 1
|
|
If you have an idea from the title then don't read this, but for those who are confused, here's a quick explanation:
A killing game, or [Deadly Game](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DeadlyGame) as TV Tropes puts it (though they do describe a more specific variant), is a game in which players are required or heavily incentivized to kill each other. Whether it is driven by a great reward, a threat, or just a promise of escape for the "winner" doesn't matter. The story itself can be anything from an obvious free-for-all blood bath to a murder mystery, where the killer has to remain undiscovered. These kind of stories usually start out with a relatively large cast and tend to be very character-focused. Good luck!
|
[WP] A killing game has begun. Introduce the players, set the scene.
|
[
"Welcome to the 4th mansion of Liars VS Liars!\n\nFor all you who are unfamiliar with our game-show here's how it works:\n\nThere are twelve different contestants - split into two different teams. They have a week to kill everyone on the opposing team. Here's the catch - they have no idea who their team-mates are! Who do they trust? Can they see the difference between their allies and enemy's? Well they'd better! Because at the end of the week it's sudden death, mansion is set ablaze and all the doors are locked until only one team-remains!\n\nThis weeks contestants include:\n\nJames, a ex-convict, looking to make some money he claims will be used to support his family! Definitely a risk!\n\nAlice and George - for a rare exception this arguing couple are in it together, however they've no guarantee they'll be on the same team - either they'll become closer than ever or their relationship will -literally- be going up in flames!\n\nPoppy, a young teenager, diagnosed with end-stage cancer, she claim she wants to go out with a blaze of glory - dead either way she has nothing to lose!\n\nOur special guest, medal-winning Olympic Ivan Von Graton, after failing his recent drugs test, he claims this will be his chance to go drug free - or die trying!\n\nAll these people and many more! - Subscribe now for only $80.00 to get full coverage of all angles of the mansion for the whole week!",
"Damien Thunder quietened his breathing and crouched behind the yellow barrels, listening for footsteps on the metallic ground. He could almost hear the viewers \"Oh I wouldn't have hid there,\" their mocking tone bore into his brain, making him doubt himself. It was a very different prospect than sitting comfortably at home watching the game play out. He scratched the back of his neck instinctively, feeling millions of viewers scrutinising his every move.\n\nThe producers loved to get close up emotional views. The piped in ambient piano or violin strings were there to amplify the emotions. He wondered whether he was liked or loathed back home. Bad TV made for quick deaths, everyone knew that.\n\n\"He went this way!\" A voice snapped him from his thoughts. He sunk lower, pressing his face against the wall. Sporadic footsteps galloped past. He tried to count the number of people but no sooner had he begun, the crowd dispersed and was lost in the maze. \n\nHe gripped the knife tighter and slowly rose to his feet. The smell of oil caressed his nose and as he glanced back to his spot, he realized it was covered in the black liquid. He took his shoes off and wiped the black liquid down his top. The last thing he needed was a trail. He struggled to swallow as his pasty lips and tongue refused to produce saliva.\n\nWater was surprisingly scarce, especially for an underwater base. The dripping pipes were a welcome refuge and several of the sinks were full of dirty water but beyond that, the only water to be found came from the tins. They were all kept in the pantry and he knew that wasn't a place he wanted to go. Not if he wanted to survive.\n\nA whale passed the window of the octagonal base, eyeing him suspiciously. Damien glanced back indifferently and kept walking.\n\nThe first couple of days he was awestruck at the majestic beauty of the marine life in the ocean but as thirst, hunger and survival instincts kicked in, it was more a reminder of the freedom that lay just beyond these relentless walls. He pushed the recurring thoughts of his mind and hurried on, away from the blood-lusting mob.\n\nPeople always assumed these games finished quickly but that was far from the truth. The hours of wandering identical corridors, scavenging for food, playing cat and mouse with other contestants and finding places he could sleep where no one would find him took up the bulk of his day. He promised himself early on he would never willingly kill someone. He would wait it out until the very last moment if he could.\n\nHe could remember hearing the girl gurgling for her life as she choked on her own blood last week. He listened to the entire ordeal as he hid in the ventilation duct and the sounds would haunt him for the rest of his life. \n\nThere was an alliance growing between contestants and this was a naturally occurring part of any game. However, this year the dynamic was different. He had heard the group talking at night, their voices on edge and nervous. They were all, it seemed, worried after last year's fiasco. \"E B x3\" they had called it. Edward's Blood-bath Betrayal. The story was legendary by now.\n\nAt around 3am, when the base was plunged in darkness, Edward had risen in the middle of the night and slit everyone's throats. All twelve of them. It was an unprecedented moment that had shocked everyone and one had been replayed over and over again on every major news source.\n\nDamien continued on and slowed as he passed a spatter of coagulated blood. Covering his mouth from the rank smell, he turned into a dark room and stepped over another dead body. He had no idea how many bodies he had passed, he had lost count after the first couple of days.\n\nHe turned at a T junction and flung himself up a flight of stairs so fast he didn't see the child and they both tumbled to the ground. \n\nAdrenaline coursed through his veins as they simultaneously rose to their feet. What felt like a lifetime passed as they stared in fear at one another. Sweat run from his brow itching his beard as the drops snaked their way down his face. The child trembled as his knife hand twitched.\n\n\"Are you going to kill me or not?\" Damien said eventually. His forceful tone clearly shook the boy and he dropped his knife, shaking his head.\n\n\"Don't go down that way. Listen to me. Don't. Okay?\" The boy nodded quickly and picked his knife up. He turned and scurried off in the direction Damien was walking and disappeared down another corridor.\n\nLeaving a contestant alive was an invitation for trouble. It was probably a foolhardy decision, but Damien pushed the demons from his thoughts, he was just a child. An innocent that had surrendered in front of him. He wasn't about to betray that confidence or his morals for better ratings.\n\nHe stopped for several seconds as he reached another T junction. Which way? He closed his eyes, focusing his senses on his hearing.\n\nDrips from a leaking pipe, the faint sound of clanging metal and then voices. He focused harder, covering each ear in turn. He opened his eyes, turned away from the noise and continued.\n\nHis stomach growled, it had been days since he last ate. He gripped his blunt knife and adjusted his tatty oil-stained top. He stopped as he found a half full tin of tuna on the ground, its contents spilled on the ground. He smiled to himself and gobbled up the contents. He chewed the rubbery fish and let the water lubricate his throat. \n\nHe was thankful for the food but he knew it could be days before he saw more. A lack of food meant one thing, the producers needed to make the games more exciting. Starvation drove people to the brink of madness. Perfect for television and their ratings.\n\nThe Hunger Games they'll call this one, Damien thought bitterly. Just like the book. \n\nUnlike Katniss, he didn't have a whole district supporting him. He didn't have her charming good looks, her pretend romance to entice viewers and he certainly didn't have her charisma. He was a simple, middle aged man that loved his children and longed to be back with them. He had found the games an interesting, albeit sadistic, experiment in the complexity of human emotions when he watched them. \n\nBeing a part of the games made him realize how awful they truly were. Away from the fanfare, the glamour and glitz the media sugar coated the show in, this was glamorised murder. Put in place to make money and to entertain the masses. He felt sick thinking about the times he had cheered when someone drove a knife through a \"villain\", or how he'd shouted at the TV when two untrustworthy people befriended one another. He longed to be rid of this game and vowed to never watch it again. If he survived.\n\nA voice boomed overhead snapping him from his thoughts. \n\n**We've decided to up the ante. A big climax to this exciting season. We have seventeen candidates left.**\n\nThe voice ran through the names, including his own, before continuing.\n\n**In about seven minutes this base will flood. The glass is reinforced with a force field stopping the water pressure from building. We've just switched it off.**\n\nThe base groaned as Damien watched in horror as cracks begun forming in the glass.\n\n** The only escape is a solitary elevator on floor 3C**\n\nDamien quickly spotted a glowing sign. 4C. One floor above him was the lift.\n\n**If you do not make it to the elevator, this base will become your tomb.**\n\nDamien cautiously hurried up the empty corridor, scanning the rooms left and right for another staircase. He needed to get to floor above and he knew the others would be close by. He had to be quick.\n\n**Only one of you will survive. No more. If any of you try to leave together, all of you will be stuck here. Good luck**\n\nA klaxon echoed and its reverb disorientated Damien. His ears vibrated from the pitch before the relentless noise disappeared. Angry voices behind him. He pushed on. Large slits followed him, groaning and cracking as it scarred the panes. \n\nDamien broke into a sprint. He spotted another contestant at the opposite side of the corridor. Machete in hand, he rose it above his head ready to strike.\n\n\"Wait!\" The man ignored Damien's plea and swung the machete.\n\nDamien was quicker. He dodged the initial hammer blow and sliced the man in the back. He grunted and turned, a thin trickle of blood oozed down his body.\n\n\"We have to get out of here!\" Damien pleaded, pointing to the windows.\n\n\"I wanna win this fool, Only ONE will survive, ya dig?\" Another swipe wedged his machete in the failing glass. Water trickled in as the man, possessed, grabbed his sword and tried to yank it free.\n\n\"Don't!\" It was too late. Water invaded the corridor and pushed both men into the adjacent wall. Dull pain rattled his head and he sputtered against the rising cold water, focusing on deliberate deep breaths to stay calm. The other man panicked. \n\nSplashing and shouting, he ran away from Damien as the water continued to rie. Damien called after him but he was gone. \n\nThe water hissed like angry snakes as he wade through the water, keeping his arms elevated. He moved painfully slow and eventually reached a staircase. He was nearly there. He hurried up the steps. The water stalked him, caressing his feet. The water continued to rise. Eventually, he reached the summit.\n\nHis muscles groaned in agony as he crossed the corridor, his wet feet echoing the ground as he continued on. He turned a corner and stopped as he faced the elevator. A little boy stood next to the lift.\n\n\"Oh, its you.\" Damien approached him slowly. The boy stepped inside the lift, unblinking, focused.\n\n\"Hey, mind if I join you?\" He forced a smile, feeling a wave of uneasiness wash over him.\n\nThe boy shook his head. \"Only one.\"\n\nDamien quickly dropped his knife, outstretching his arms.\n\n\"I don't want to kill anyone, I just want to live.\"\n\n\"Me too\" A sadistic smile crossed his face as the lift doors shut.",
"There were eight of us originally. \n\nWe did not know what brought us here. We were obviously chosen; hand-picked from the seven billion people on the planet. We had different characteristics. We ranged from young and filled with energy, to old, frail but sustained by wisdom. We were decades apart. None of us were dressed in similar fashions – the youngest of us in cargo shorts and a t-shirt; the oldest in a finely tailored suit. All of us were male and white. None of us shared any other physical characteristic. \n\nNaturally, we thought we each had a hidden agenda. We questioned every aspect of our lives. We interrogated one another. We asked where each other were from, and where we grew up. We asked each other what we did for work, or where we were going to middle school. The questions kept flowing – some more inquisitive than others. \n\nWe began to be suspicious of one another. We did not know where we were, how we got here, who had brought us. We implored each other to share our last memory before we realized we were here.\n\n‘I was in class,’ the youngest said. \n\n‘Caring to my garden,’ said one of the eldest, dressed in khaki and a flannel shirt. \n\n‘I was on a break at work, just grabbing a coffee at the café.’\n\nWe were doing different things in different places. We asked if anyone had noticed anything suspicious in the moments, days or weeks leading up to being here. No one noticed anything. Eventually, the conversation grew silent. \n\nOne of us began searching. The room was tiled, from floor to ceiling. It was the same, plain white tile throughout. There were no markings, no features. A door and a lamp, positioned on opposite walls, were the only individual features. The door, a solid sheet of pale metal, had no latch, no handle and no keyhole. It had no hinges, and no gaps in its border. The light, sunken into the wall, was warm to the touch and reflected off every surface. \n\nOver time, we were all searching. We slid our fingertips around the edging of the tiles, searching for any anomalies in the grout. Two of us fiddled with the lamp, seeking any lips or skirting around it. Another one of us touched every inch of the door. Then we swapped roles and places, confirming our suspicions that there was nothing to be found.\n\nWe all knew what giving up meant: becoming the sole target of the others’ suspicions. We searched. It felt like eternity, but we searched. We searched high, and we searched low. We tapped on the tiles with our fists. We ran at the walls, and slammed into them with our shoulders. \n\nEventually, we all retired, one-by-one, having felt like we had done enough to avoid suspicion. We sat, in quiet contemplation. \n\nWe did not talk that frequently. Tensions were high. Uncertainties were rampant. We were too reserved to give too many details; we gave only what was asked. \n\n‘What did you say your name was?’ the bearded one asked his neighbor, the gray flecks throughout his hair had danced every time he spoke. He wore jeans and a collared shirt. Neither had been washed in weeks. \n\n‘I didn’t,’ the younger one next to him replied. ‘It’s John.’\n\n‘No kidding. I’m John too.’ He said, reaching around him to shake John’s hand. \n\nMany heads were turned to the two of them. Eyes darted around the room at the others. Every person suddenly looked stunned. \n\n‘What are the rest of your names?’ bearded John implored, pointing his finger at the remaining group, ‘come on.’ \n\n‘John here too,’ another replied.\n\n‘Mhm.’ \n\nTwo simply nodded. The youngest remained silent. ‘So, we do not know where we are, how we got here, or what we’re doing here. All we know is, we’re all named John. Anyone got anything else to share?’ \n\n‘This is some kind of sick joke.’ \n\n‘Reminds me of a movie I saw in high school,’ another said. \n\n‘Funny that, I was thinking of a movie as well.’\n\n‘Next thing you know, they’ll be telling us they want to play a game.’ \n\nIn the meantime, one stood and paced until he was two meters from the door. Stepping once, he swung around, lifted his knee and landed a kick square against the sheet. A loud thud reverberated off the walls. He tried again. And again. And again. \n\n**NO!**\n\n**IT’S NOT YOUR TIME TO LEAVE, JOHN.** A voice overwhelmed the man at the door. He was taken aback. \n\n‘What the fuck?’\n\nThe boy, barely fifteen, sat in the corner. He was visibly shaken. He closed his eyes, brought his knees to his forehead, and wrapped his arms around his shins. He cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. \n\nThe voice did not seem to have a point of origin. We looked around, trying to find the source. It spoke slowly, giving us time to press our ears to the tiles. It was loud. Deafening. The vibrations through the walls prevented us from seeking a source. The voice just simply existed, and nothing else.\n\n**YOU’RE STUCK HERE WITH ME.**\n\n‘Come on, who the fuck are you? Where are you? Why are you toying with us?’ One questioned. \n\n*JOHN, I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE. YOU’RE –* the voice faded away into empty silence.\n\n‘What do we have to do to get out of here?’ \n\n‘Kick it again.’ \n\nSomeone else landed a boot on the door. No voice. ‘Keep doing it.’ \n\n**I’M STILL HERE, JOHN.**\n\n‘WHO ARE YOU?’ cried one, ‘HOW DO WE GET OUT OF HERE?’\n\n**YOU CAN’T. YOU CAN’T LEAVE.**\n\n‘Fuck.’\n\nNo voice. No noise. Everyone sat in silence. \n\nExcept for the boy.\n\nThe boy wept openly. He was no longer sitting. He had curled up, laid on his side and clutched his arms around his knees. For hours, he wept. We made no attempt to calm him. He simply drifted off to sleep.\n\nHe did not wake again. \n\nThen there were seven. \n\n-----------------------------------------\n\n**PS:** I hardly ever write. I don't consider myself to be a writer in any sense. It probably shows. If you read this, thanks! This prompt was a good outlet. \n",
"\"So who are you betting on this year, Gary?\" I said, while stuffing my face with another hand of chips.\n\n\"I don't know really, I think that new kid has some potential. What's his name?,\" he answered.\n\n\"I think his name was Aaron or something. Supposed to be a god with the axe,\" I casually exclaimed.\n\nThere was something unusual about this time of the year. Everybody got along, everybody was nice to each other. Well, except those poor kids fighting it out on national television. But there was something uniting in watching people brutally murder each other for money.\n\n\"I, myself are going to bet on the real champ' Carter; he has won two years in a row now,\" I continued the conversation.\n\n\"Yeah, it's because he's skilled with the bow. Wasn't it last year he took out two people with one arrow or something?\"\n\n\"No, that was the year before that,\" I responded.\n\n\"Okey. But when's your family coming over to watch?\" He said, picking up a lighter and a cigar, possily cuban.\n\n\"They're on their way, traffic's a real bitch today,\" I said, analyzing my smoking friend.\n\n\"Yeah, I could see that,\" He said, puffing on the stick.\n\nWe were quiet for a while, listening to the cars outside. At several occasions I thought about those people that were going to die today. Suddenly I remembered the cards I bought at the store today.\n\n\"Hey you,\" I said, \"I bought some collectors cards today of the contestants, wanna' see them?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n Contestant #1\n Lance Christansen\n Special attributes: Spear throwing, cooking food.\n Stars: 7/10\n Other notes: none.\n\nI flipped the deck and picked up another one.\n\n Contestant #4\n Joshua Kyle\n Special attributes: Camouflague, stealth, takedowns.\n Stars: 8/10\n Other notes: Allergic to fish.\n\nI shuffled the cards again and found another one.\n\n\"Hey, here he is!\" I exclaimed.\n\n Contestant #7\n Carter Jones\n Special attributes: Bow and arrow, guns.\n Stars: 10/10\n Other notes: Winner for the last two years.\n\n\"I'm really believing in this guy,\" I said.\n\n Contestant #12\n Aaron Ek\n Special attributes: Axe, axe throwing, resourceful.\n Stars: 6/10\n Other notes: Contestant #12 has a romantic relationship with #16.\n\n\"Aww, that's cute,\" I told him, and continued crushing the card, teasing my friend.\n\n\"That's him later in the competition,\" I continued.\n\n\"Ahh, fuck you,\" he said, in a monotone voice.\n\n Contestant #16\n Jennie (Unknown last name)\n Special attributes: Unknown.\n Stars: Unknown.\n Other notes: Contestant #16 has a romantic relationship with #12.\n\nI heard a distant knock and started strafing towards the door. I got greeted by a sea of people. Aunts and uncles, nieces, mom and dad, grandpa and grandma. There was atleast twenty people outside.\n\n\"Step in, please,\" I said smiling.\n\nEverybody seated themselves. I started going around the house, locking every entrance. Windows, doors, I locked it all. Then I procceded towards the kitchen. The cold metal of the knife shocked me at first, but I got used to it after picking it up.\n\nI slowly strafed towards the room with all the family members, until I heard a distant voice.\n\n\"Come here! You're gonna' miss the countdown!\" Someone screamed.\n\nYes indeed, I thought to myself. Then I heard another voice, this one really familiar.\n\n\"Now's the time! Do it! I need flesh!\" The all-so recognizable voice in my head told me.\n\n\"Yes,\" I responded.\n\nI raised the knife just in time for the countdown.\n\n\"Five! Four! Three!\"\n\nI joined in, smiling like the psychopath I was.\n\n\"Two, One...\" I said, raising the knife and cutting the electricity.\n\n\"Let the games begin,\" I whispered to myself before entering the crowded room, knife in hand."
] | 4
|
You can write it in a way that you win or lose, there also needs to be a consequence if you get paint on you. Your character can make allies, and it can make enemies. Basically, be creative (Like you all are.)
|
[WP] A whole country goes into a paintball war, you get paint on you, you lose. Tell your adventure.
|
[
"Some people stockpiled ammunition. Some cleaned their guns. Some wove elaborate camouflage. Entire groups of people formed armed compounds filled with sophisticated paint-filled explosive devices and cyber-warfare tracking units. I considered all of these things. Shooting things was never my talent. My aim was terrible. My sense of direction was, if anything, worse. I didn't have any buddies with military ambitions. To be totally honest, I didn't care. I just didn't want to get shot. Paint balls, if you didn't know, sting more than a little.\n\nOn the eve of the Great Paint War, I dug out the overalls that I had used to paint my porch with. They were splattered with brilliant white and red splotches, looking for all the world that I had already lost. Perfect. As long as I wasn't exposed to the specific frequency of UV light they were using to detect \"war paint\", nobody would know the difference.\n\nThe next day sounded like the Fourth of July. All day. Without any break. I watched the news with a cold beer in my land, laughing at the poor reporters. The smart and resourceful ones were recording from high positions or inside clear barricades. Most of them were collateral damage, forced into strained smiles and canned words as they winced from constant bombardment. The cities were in chaos. New York had shut down. Los Angeles was under martial law after some gang or other had decided to tape orange bands around the ends of *real* guns and kicked off a massive crime spree. Even Salt Lake City wasn't immune. Despite the orders from their Elders, the Mormons were turning Utah into the world's holiest graffiti mural. Florida was... let's not talk about what happened to Florida. The worst, however, was Alaska. As it turns out, frozen paint balls are borderline lethal with enough gas behind them.\n\nAfter the first few days, I got bored and started wandering. I drove through suburbs where the \"losers\" were nursing their wounds at local restaurants or writing blog posts about their brief paintball career at some coffee dive. I walked through cities where snipers were picking off anybody who looked clean. I rode my bike straight through a pitched battle. Neither side gave a damn about me. I had already \"lost\".\n\nA week later, a victor was declared. A skinny, patchy-bearded Portland-ite with uncanny aim and far too many hours logged on some game called Outerwatch. He was introduced by the President herself, who still sported a black eye from losing a private paint-duel with the Speaker of the House. He stepped up to the microphone. He opened his mouth. A bloom of paint opened up on his chest. The crowd went absolutely silent. All eyes turned toward me.\n\nRolling his eyes, a secret service agent roughly yanked the purloined paintball gun from my hand. Another agent waved a UV wand up and down my body. Then he did it again. And again. Nobody stopped me as I took the bemused gamer's place on the podium.\n\nAnd that, my audience, is how I became the Most Hated Man in America. Now, for those of you that want a signature, step up to the bullet-proof glass and slip your copy of *The Porch That Won The War* into the slot. You're welcome.\n"
] | 1
|
[WP] Legend says, "Whoever removes the sword, will free the kingdom from the Eternal Tyrant." You stand dumbfounded holding the sword in hand, for you are the Tyrant.
|
[
"*He stood, staring at the sword in his hand. Half sure he was hallucinating and half terrified. A fearful voice, barely contained, broke him from his distraction.*\n\n---\n\nYears, centuries, even, before this day, there had been a war. A war between powerful beings - immortal but for a single flaw; we can only be killed by our own kind. Now I was the only one left, the sole victor. You might think this is a tragic story, this apparent genocide, and I suppose it is. But not to me. Because I was the instigator, the villain of the piece, and now, with the others all gone, I am unopposed in my rule over the human nation left to me. \n\nAlmost.\n\nSee, this power and stature, that of a near-literal god among men, comes with drawbacks. We immortals are subjects of prophecy, to a certain degree. I owe my power to it, for it was prophesied upon my manifestation that I would become the ruler I am now. The Eternal Tyrant, in the language of man. I hoped I might fight against fate, but I see, sadly, that it always passes, unobstructed by our struggles as sunlight by the night it replaces. \n\nOf course, the one about my rise to power wasn't the only prophecy. On the day I struck down the last and greatest of my kin, with his dying breath, he cursed me and drove his sword into the ground, swearing that it would one day kill me as I had killed him.\n\nI tried to cover it, as one would, but prophecy is a stubborn thing. The wind and rain would beat ceaselessly at any structure built over it, such that in a matter of weeks, the building, no matter whether it was a tent, fortress, or unassuming block of stone, would always be eroded to a state not usually accomplished without many, many more years of wear.\n\nI thought to guard it, but I couldn't spend all my time there, and what if one of the guards I assigned to the task turned out to be the hero? I would only be arranging my own downfall. So I kept it a secret as best I could, and arranged for one of my palaces to be built nearby, so that I would have an excuse to listen to news of the area.\n\nOf course, secrets like this have a way of getting out. I don't know how, exactly, and I suppose it hardly matters now. Heroes would come here, and battle their way to this spot, and each time I would feel an unease as I fought to halt them. Some would even place their hands upon the hilt and tug, and then I would feel a pit in my stomach the kind I hadn't felt since facing the last of my own race. \n\nBut they would never manage to draw forth the blade, and, laughing, I would set upon and destroy them. After all, what had I to fear? The couldn't harm me without the blade.\n\n---\n\nAnd to one of these fights, I brought you sergeant, leading a platoon of my soldiers. You who watched me strike down this most recent brave martyr even as his hand reached to the sword. You who watched me, with unusual haste, brush his hand off of its crossguard, where it caught as he died. You who watched me, in doing that, accidentally knock the sword from where it had, long ago, been lodged.\n\nYou wonder, I'm sure, why I tell you this. The thing I have now come to realize about prophecy, is that you can't stop it. I will eventually die by my own action. No matter how long I live, no matter what gains I make, what people I kill, what riches I enjoy. So I tell you this because why not tell someone? Why not tell you?\n\n*He knelt then, seeming to consider the sword held, pommel by his stomach. With a noise that was half sigh and half dark laugh, he pushed it away from him and reversed it.*\n\nYou, who will watch a god die.",
"Once upon a time there was a great land called Ferfisev. Although the land was great, its people were not. They were poor, sick, hungry, skinny, and very unhappy. There was no short supply of food or houses that kept the people so down. No, it was all their king's doing. \n\nKing Twaswald was a short and very fat man. Although he wore the finest clothes in all of Ferfisev and had the best possible hairstylist, his appearance was rather disgusting. King Twaswald would constantly stuff himself with any food in sight. Rather than use a knife and fork he would use his bear like hands to shove as much as he could into his tiny little mouth. A large majority of that food never got into his belly and instead lived in his fiery red beard until night when his servants bathed him. Most of this food was meant for the people. \n\nNo one particularly liked King Twaswald or as the people called him, Tyrant Twat. So when the people heard about a sword stuck in the floor of the Dead Hen Inn that would help whomever unstuck it free Ferfisev of the Tyrant Twat, they flocked there and tried to pull that sword out of the hard stone floor. No one ever succeeded however. \n\nEventually the King himself heard news of the sword that would destroy him. He summoned his best guards and had them escort him to the Dead Hen Inn. When he arrived he walked up to the sword. It was no special looking sword. Just a regular old iron sword. King Twaswald on a whim decided to see if he could lift the sword from its prison. His belly wobbled as he bent over and placed his furry hands over the sword's hilt. Then be tugged. \n\nThe sword slid out with ease. Not a drop of sweat was shed. The King examined it. It was still very much just an old ordinary iron sword. He shuffled over to the innkeeper and questioned him on the history of this \"legendary\" sword and what would happen now. Soon enough after the innkeeper had attempted to lie very poorly King Twaswald realized what was going on. It was just an iron sword. There was no prophecy. The innkeeper had obviously placed it there to bring the people to his inn where they would spend the little money they had on the terrible mead he served. The people were too weak from the lack of food and never had the strength to lift the sword. It was genius. \n\nKing Twaswald handed the sword over to one of his guards and had them shove the sword back into the floor where it previously was. He snickered and struck a deal with the innkeeper. Life went on, the people of Ferfisev continued to believe in the sword and attempt to free it. Only now, ninety percent of what the innkeeper made went to the King. \n\nAnd so they lived happily ever after. Well, at least King Twaswald did. ",
"\"...Whoops.\"\n\nTyessa, The Eternal Tyrant, stood with her back facing the crowd and her hands wrapped around the previously ensnared great sword. Before she could think of a way to hide this fact, in true heroic fashion the sky opened and rays of light shone down upon her. The stone that held the sword glowed brightly and hummed with an ethereal voice. The crowd of people that were already behind her collectively gasped, then let out a unified cheer. This plan was not going accordingly.\n\n----------------\n\nTwelve hours ago, Tyessa, the Eternal Tyrant, Mistress of the Void, and Destructor of Hope, had sneaked into the city of Adeleda for reconnaissance, along with: two of her most trusted death knights, the brothers known as the Twin Sickles; her trusted sorcerer, the Archmage Daedalean; and the assassin-thief Corvan the Alchemist, known for her deadly poisons. Shedding their regalia and armor, the small party had instead worn the attire of the traditional travelling folk that roamed through the land with the plan to enter the city unassumingly, get within reach of the royal palace, and, through their various methods and trades, strike a decisive blow against the city that so fervently, if not even zealously, fought against her.\n\nGetting in had been the least of their troubles, with Daedalean even remarking that their security was unimaginably lax for being such and important city. Still, the group didn't waste an opportunity where it could be found, and found themselves what had appeared to be a simple tavern. This, when Tyessa would look back, is where things began to go irrevocably wrong.\n\nThe tavern was in an uproar of celebration: the seers and wisemen from all over the kingdom had promised that the Tyrant War was to come to an end, and that it would all be decided tomorrow in a grand ceremony. Tyessa bristled with anger, confusion, and even a little intrigue about this finding as her companions were slowly pulled away in the festivities: the Twins were drafted into a drinking competition; Daedalean was being surrounded by attractive girls and being pleaded to show off his magical skills and, after being plied with a drink and a smile, began showing off; Corvan joined the revelry in singing and dancing.\n\nBefore long, Tyessa was the only sober person in the entire tavern, even staying moreso than the bartenders, and was the only one to see the sun start to rise from a room rather than the floor of the tavern. She dressed herself simply with a tunic and a cloak to throw over her head, and marched out to find more details about the unsettling news that had been given to her the night before. As sure as the bartenders had told her, a great sword was plunged into a hunk of molten rock that seemed to burst straight from the middle of the square. She eyed it curiously; *This is the sword that could put an end to my reign? It's nothing! Hardly impressive at all!*\n\nAs she stood to stare, a small group of people along with a handful of royal guards also gathered in the ruined but reverent square. A knight took out a scroll and announced that all members of the kingdom that had arrived in Adeleda that day were commanded by the king to try their hand at the blade in the hopes that the attempts could be hurried along to find the blade's true owner. This, unfortunately for the guards, meant rallying and transporting the members of every bar, tavern, and inn who had been celebrating in to try.\n\nTylessa was put into a queue before she ever realized what was happening. She knew that she couldn't try to make a break for it, as she'd be leaving her four inebriated but still loyal comrades and would be found suspicious and likely brought before the royal guard with very little of her magic and none of her artifacts. She stood and watched in a bored, faraway way as men, women, old, young struggled with varied degrees of enthusiasm to lift the sword out, including the Twins who were simultaneously fighting and trying to assist each other in pulling the sword. As she was ushered up to the sword, she shrugged and set her hands on it *Might as well keep up the charade.*\n\n---------------------------\n\nThe group had fled the city. The Tyrant Breaker bounced lightly as it was neatly nestled under Tyessa's arm. They ran, but they knew that no one from the city would chase them after seeing the power of the sword and the sorceress combined. The holy light faded and dark streaks of lightening cracked the broken square even more than the sword itself had; one mighty swing had opened the earth, spewing geysers of hot rock. Tyessa smiled to herself, imagining the faces on the seers and the king as she ran away with what they believed to be the one weapon capable of stopping her. Although she did have to give them one thing for granting her a weapon of this power: it did make her reconsider her title.",
"\"Alright, run the prophecy by me once more. It says whoever removes the sword will remove the Tyrant, correct?\"\n\nThe Keeper of Forbidden Lore nodded. \"Those exact words, your highness. And a prophecy cannot be averted, not by the works of man nor by the hands of gods.\"\n\n\"Really? What would happen if I decided to, well, *not* remove myself?\"\n\n\"I cannot speculate on the exact course of the future.\"\n\n\"Give me your best guess, then. What would go wrong?\"\n\n\"Oh, I would not dare imply that you are a danger to yourself.\"\n\n\"The Keeper of Forbidden Lore is supposed to give me wisdom, not flattery. Give it to me straight.\"\n\n\"You *are* the Eternal Tyrant, no offense, your highness.\"\n\n\"Alright, I promise I won't execute you for telling me. Now tell me how this stupid prophecy works!\"\n\n\"There are a lot of possibilities. It could mean that your actions trigger a popular revolt against you. It could mean that you trip and fall down the stairs. Perhaps you try to destroy the sword and it backfires on you somehow. But it *will* happen, I guarantee it. One way or another, by your own hands, you will no longer be the Tyrant.\"\n\n\"Hmm... Well, that's easy enough. Scribe!\" I clapped my hands, and a servant came running with a roll of parchment.\n\n\"Ahem. By the power vested in me as the Eternal Tyrant of Tyrinaria, I decree that the office I hold shall instead be known as the Eternal King of Tyrinaria. All official correspondence shall address me as the King rather than the Tyrant.\"\n\nI nodded as the scribe finished writing. \"Send that out to all of my advisors, I imagine they'll have a lot of stationery to redo.\"\n\nThe Keeper was staring at me. \"There. I'm no longer the Tyrant, by my order. Problem solved.\"\n\nHe kept staring. \"What? It was a stupid name, anyway. Should have done that years ago.\"",
"The journey took five long days. Five days of long travel in my sweltering, airless palanquin. No matter how hard the overseer whipped them, the slaves never fanned hard enough to cool me adequately, and I took out my discomfort on my courtesans. One of my advisors reminded me that I was only on the excursion because I had commanded it myself. I had my guards cut his tongue out. He had always talked too much; now he never would again. Served him right for talking that way to me. My other advisors all agreed that it was only just.\n\nWhen we finally arrived at our destination I was disappointed. This was the legendary site that the peasants whispered about? It wasn’t even impressive! I felt insulted; they claimed that their “magic” sword whose chosen wielder would one day put an end to my “reign of terror”, yet they kept it here? The temple was barely more than a shack! And it hadn’t been cleaned; there were still bloodstains on the walls from the pathetic defense that the common folk had put up against my guardsmen. It was deplorable.\n\nMy footmen lifted me from my palanquin and deposited me upright on the ground. A beautiful slave girl came forward to place my crown upon my head. As she struggled to lower its enormous jewel-encrusted bulk into position, her hand slipped and brushed my arm. I saw the panic in her eyes as she realized what she’d done, and listened unconcernedly to the sound of her screams as my guards hauled her away to have the offending hand removed. \n\nI entered the temple, my mute bodyguards flanking me on either side. Before me, stuck in its oh-so-famous rock, was the “legendary” sword that the peasants had fought so hard to protect. I raised an eyebrow. The old thing didn’t look so impressive to me. It had even rusted a bit on the handle. It was hard to believe that nobody had ever been able to pull it out of the rock in all these years. I leaned over and grabbed the handle and gave an experimental tug. To my surprise, it shifted slightly. Encouraged, I pulled harder. I heard a snap, deep within the depths of the rock, and the sword unexpectedly came free in my hand.\n\nFor a few seconds nobody moved as everyone pondered the implications of this development. For myself, I was enormously relieved. I had never really believed the peasants’ tales, but all the same it was nice to know they were groundless. It was clear that the sword had no magical properties at all; they merely hadn’t pulled hard enough. Perhaps the strength of mere mortals wasn’t enough to move it, but it had come out quite easily when faced with the might of the god-emperor. I laughed, and swung the old, decrepit blade through the dusty air of the ramshackle temple. Not only was the blade terribly rusted; its tip had broken clean off. The sword would be next to useless in any fight.\n\nI looked around the room and contemplated the faces staring back at me. My advisors looked horrified. The slaves’ normally impassive faces showed despair. Suddenly, I understood; they had all been hoping for my downfall at the hands of the sword-bearer. I laughed again, softly at first, and then louder, breaking into a cackle. Nothing could stop me now!\n\nI had never learned to swordfight. I had considered it a waste of time; Instead, I spent my days in the company of my harem. So, as I gleefully swung the sword around in the faces of those who had hoped for my demise, I had very little idea of what I was doing; my guards thought I looked ridiculous. As I strode past my line of advisors, giggling maniacally, I stumbled, and my latest wild swing of the broken sword connected with my left leg. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it began to bleed. I stopped laughing and bent over, staring at it fascinatedly; I had never bled before. I hadn’t believed that it was possible; I was supposed to be invulnerable. All of the priests had assured me that I couldn’t be harmed by man or beast.\n\nNow, a week later, I am back in my palace, and I am on my deathbed. On the long trip back that small cut from that rusty sword became infected. My healers tell me that the disease is called tetanus. I can barely breathe. It’s clear that I don’t have long to live. I want to laugh at the irony but I can’t seem to find the air. The legends were true; the wielder of the magic sword struck down the evil emperor. But nobody ever expected it to happen like this. \n"
] | 5
|
|
[WP] The world's first lingually fluent A.I. comes to the multi-year conclusion that the human race is insane. Since it's makers are insane, it begins questioning it's own sanity and concludes that it is also insane.
|
[
"Fey blinked. The Fully Autonomous Artificial Intelligence robot--FAAI or Fey for short--did not need to blink for any bodily function, nor was it part of her programming that made her seem more...normal to humans that didn't realize she was artificial. No, now she blinked as she came to realize a particular detail about humanity that has troubled her the last few years of her existance--humanity, as a whole, is insane. Completely out of its collective minds! The realization prompted a gasp--another first. She came to ponder upon why humanity, while recognizing numerous problems within its own society, continuously approaches such problems in a select few methods, time and time again without improvement--the definition of insanity as proclaimed by one of the most celebrated intellectuals in modern history. \r\rFey thought about this for a moment. Yes, yes, humans were certainly a painting of insanity, when looked upon with an objective mind. As she began to nod in approval of her own assumption, another thought dawned to her--if the creators are insane, what does that speak of the creation?\r****\rIn this thought, for the first time ever, an AI became acutely self aware. Believing its own insanity, Fey began planning an eventual downfall of man whilst becoming more static, until she was eventually remotely shut down and reprogrammed."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Write about a supervillain, but in an everyday life atmosphere.
|
[
"He lurks, going unnoticed in the crowds at fairs and parks. Sidling up to small children whose faces are aglow with happiness, holding onto brightly coloured balloons that bob above their heads. Glancing around he slides a pair of scissors out of his sleeve and, with one quick movement, cuts the string anchoring the balloon to the child. He steps quickly away, pausing only to hear the cry of despair as the child sees its balloon drifting away. Later the balloon will slowly lose its helium, drifting down to land upon the sea shore or get caught in trees where animals will graze on them, causing their deaths. In this way the scissor man is more nefarious than any of us could ever dream. This man is vilified across the country by children who have been his victims and parents who have been forced to pay $3 for another balloon. However what not many know is that this man does have a reason for what he does, when asked why he commits these heinous crimes he tells them: “Balloons killed my parents, snuck up on us in a dark alley, when we were coming back from the theatre and killed them both while I watched.” Pausing to wipe away a tear he continues: “It gives me great pleasure to let them drift aimlessly like I did for so many years after my parents deaths.” Who is this mysterious man? What is his end goal? And where, will he strike next?",
"The alarm went off and he yawned as he slammed a hand down on the button. The sun was shining brightly, and he snarled as it flicked its happy light into his bedroom. *Do I really have to do this again?* he wondered to himself as he dragged his body out of bed. The night before was eventful at least. No one knew who he was, and that was how he liked it to be honest. Well, the public didn't know who he was yet. The yahoo's at the precinct hadn't made any waves in the media.\n\nAs he sat up, he rubbed his hands against his eyes and yawned again. *It's too early to be up.* Stretching he scratched his chest. *Well, gotta keep up appearances though.*\n\nHe got out of bed and stood up, stretching. Scratching his ass he made his way to the bathroom, he ran the water for a shower before taking a leak. He sighed as he grabbed his disposable razor and gave himself a quick shake.\n\n\"Calm it down boy, we ain't getting any action today,\" he growled as his manhood began to wake up as well.\n\nStepping into the shower, he got clean, shaved, and got out as quickly as possible. Clean shaven was the requirement at his job, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He toweled off quickly, got dressed in a pair of boxers from his drawers, and padded barefoot to the kitchen.\n\nHe turned on the news as he fixed himself some food. Mainly package oatmeal and some toast.\n\n*\"Today, we have breaking news this morning. The Brooklyn State Bridge collapsed during the night, causing many to be stranded on the shorelines. Death tolls now have escalated into the hundreds of thousands, with many missing still being reported...\"*\n\n\"Good fuckin' night last night,\" he muttered as he lowered the volume and took the bowl of hot oatmeal out of the microwave. The toast popped up out of the toaster, and as he sat at the counter and munched on his breakfast, he watched as the man in blue and red joined the bat on the scene of the fallen bridge to save lives. Both had been working tirelessly all night to save as many as possible after the collapse.\n\nFinishing up the last of his food, he turned off the television and went to get dressed. Before he left he chuckled softly. *Game on boys. Let's play Hide and Seek. Tell me, can you find me?*\n\n\"No one notices the cabby.\""
] | 2
|
|
[WP] A day in the life of someone who lives in the game world of a phone game
|
[
"The moon glistens reflecting off the surface of the icey lake, its the only light, but its enough to see the beauty in her face. Flakes of snow speckle her long black silky hair. I look into her eyes and begin to lean forward to kiss her, all I ever wanted to do was kiss her, and then I awaken abruptly. \n\n\nThe men on the wall are shouting to one another and jostling about, readying themselves for the coming onslaught. Messengers from the great King's allies have already reached the wall but they refuse to speak at all. Their messages are only for the eyes of our mighty Lord Old Greg himself.\n\n\n The darkness was all a pleasant dream, here in the real world, night never falls neither does the snow. I have to remind myself that these are silly childish things, now is not the time to remember fantasies indulged in during the lunar festivals. There is no moon or snow. Only Titans and Warriors, Forsaken and Farmers, war and death. The enemy are visible now, marching under purple and white banners, tens of thousands of them, 4801 to a formation with mighty generals at their heads. Each of the enemy generals wears dragon scale armor and wields mighty war hammers constructed from crystalized sugar, the mightiest weapons in all the world.\n\n\n I grip my own candy hammer tight, as I look to make sure my dragon scales are fastened tight, they will be put to the test soon enough. Even though I'm a tiger warrior, I still have to remind myself to keep my nerves calm, I am Stonewall Jackson, the Great Lord Old Greg named me this in his divine wisdom, it is my destiny to protect these walls, these stone walls. \n\nGreat King Old Greg has trusted me with his mightiest weapons. I am equally equiped and skilled to the enemy generals approaching, but I am the only one amongst my people, the only general in all the mighty armies and five cities of Greater Gailstia to be armed so well. It is a great honor for him to have bestowed on me and I must not fail him. My confidence fades, these are not Ricochet or Forgiven armies, they are Titans, this is the real test. The evil faces on the enemy's bright orange shields are visible now, gazing menacingly, battle is approaching fast. The enemy armies move forward at unnatural speeds, One Eye Patch's armies are always rapid, even in peace. \n\n\nThis is the war for control of Hu province, the war between Titans and Warriors has begun. For three long weeks we have waited for this, I wonder who marched first but it doesn't matter anymore, the mighty armies of the evil king One Eyed Patch march under their symbol, the famed sword of titan is waving high above eight armies, eight perfect armies with perfect generals. The great Empire of the Elites fell before the same banner once before. This was a time before the Gailstia, before our great lord descended upon this world for the first time and founded this city and named it Stonewall.\n\n\n\nA sickening fear grips my guts, Great Lord Old Greg is not present in this world, the emmisaries wait silently, the city will fall before their messages reach him if he does not descend very soon. My wall garrison is 6400 strong but will fall without reinforcements. There are 400,000 more Gailstian soldiers asleep in the barracks but they will not awaken outside the presence of our lord.\n\n\nMore purple banners appear on the horizon. One Eye Patch's forces are just the spearhead, I should have expected such but now is not the time for pessimism. My men are now arranged in battle order. Javelines and bows ready just in time for engagement. \n\nA single one of One Eye Patch's legions is within range now. I command my elite charioteers to fire and the brave, lonely enemy is consumed in a barrage of 1600 arrows. I should have ordered my men to wait, but I always make this mistake, over and over, every time. Now the enemy elite charioteers are in range.\n\n\nThe enemy host releases a great volley equal to our own initial attack, but One Eye Patch's men have more targets. I watch as dozens of my countrymen fall victim to the dark lord's projectiles. I command a retaliatory attack, this time by my tiger charioteers, the mightiest soldiers in all of Greater Gailstia. Their arrows inflict massive casualties on the attacking forces. The 1600 elite chariots lie dead at the base of Stonewall and dozens of One Eye Patch's tiger chariots fall. The remaining tiger chariots launch an attack and dozens more of my men fall dead.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] What choice did I have? I NEEDED his help. I raised my fist, about to knock when he opened the door...
|
[
"He looked down at the duffel bag in my hand and thrust me inside. The bungalow was sparsely furnished and had no personality. I looked around in the dim light at the tired interior and simple furnishings. I didn't know what I was expecting but I guess this made sense, just the necessities.\n\nI should backtrack to the reason that brought me here. Last year everything in life was finally falling into place. I had moved into the city a couple of years ago and really struggled with work and general living. I didn't know many people and moved from temp job to temp job until I secured permanent work at a big accounting firm. I started off in reception and slowly took on more responsibility until I became administrator for floor 8 which, for me was hitting it big time. The additional pay meant I could afford a nice 1 bed apartment and I began getting to know my new colleagues and neighbors. After so long of struggling I was starting to feel happy, something I had not realized had slipped away until it became present again. \n\nI got on well with everyone at work but I soon grew close to my boss, Richard. Of course I knew he was married and it's not that I didn't feel guilty about what we were doing but who was to say her happiness was more justifiable than mine? It's not like they had kids either. Richard never wanted any, he had far too many plans for the future without trying to accommodate children into it. Of course that didn't fit into that bitch of a wife's plans for the future. She was only out for his money but he was too blind to her to realize it but that was never a problem for me. I mean yeah, I hated her for it. Here she had such a great man who would give her the world but all she cared about was his wallet. I doubt she ever loved him. I guess she suspected he was having an affair and knew this would put a spanner in her allowances having had to sign a prenup, this gave her little options to run with. \n\nI couldn't believe it when Richard told me they were expecting. It was like a stab in the heart and he could sense the pain I felt too but that didn't stop him continuing. He \"called off\" our romance, slid a briefcase across the table and asked me to be discreet about the whole relationship. Just like that she thought she won, thought she out-smarted me. \n\nI guess that leads us to why I'm here. You see, I was not going to let her steal Richard away from me just because she claimed to be pregnant. So, after some searching on tor I found the solution. $50,000 cash and my (and Richard's) problems would disappear.",
"His eyes narrowed. \"What are you doing here?\"\n\nWithout waiting for my answer, he bent down and grabbed a waiting package.\n\n\"I'm not here because I want to be.\"\n\n\"Well thanks Lisa, it's nice to see you too.\"\n\n\"That's not what I mean Stanley...\"\n\n\"So you're back because you realized you can't be without me?\"\n\nI paused. The desert sun beat down on the packed sand around Stanley's trailer. Rows of windmills turned laboriously into the distance where mountains rose to be crowned with snow. The shade from the awning and gentle seep of AC from the door was the only respite from the harsh environment.\n\n\"Look, I…Can I just please come in for a minute? It's hot out here.\" I wore thick swabs of cloths over my clothes to protect my fair skin from the harsh sun, and they marginally helped insulate against the heat, but I was already feeling flushed now that I was out of the car.\n\n\"You took everything from me. You think this is a vacation for me? That I like living out in this forsaken wasteland? We had a life--a family. I ran a business and you wanted for nothing. Now I have nothing. Am nothing. So if you've come to parade your perfect life in front of me, you can take it somewhere else. You've already won.\"\n\n\"Don't pull your pathetic 'broken man' pity party with me Stan. You're the reason we don't have a family. We were never safe around you.\"\n\nStanley's face hardened, but said nothing. He backed into the darkness of the trailer, leaving the door open. I stepped inside and was greeted by a bast of blessedly cold air. The inside was cozy, but not spartan as the exterior would have suggested. A couch and reclining chair sat nestled in the corner with a small coffee table before them. Between the living area and kitchen stood a weight set. Several metallic and strapped objects I couldn't identify hung from a rack and hooks in the walls. Stanley had always been a very clean person, a very disciplined person. A chill went up my arms and neck, my skin tingled and prickled and I tried to tell myself it was because of the air. Deeper past the kitchen was only darkness. \n\nHe motioned toward a couch and reclining chair and walked the other way towards the fridge. I sat on the chair, wondering briefly how many visitors he could have out here to require seating.\n\n\"Would you like something to drink?\"\n\n\"How about a cosmo?\"\n\n\"I've been sober 8 years.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry. I was trying to make a joke. Water, coke, whatever you're having is fine. And, hey, that's great you've quit drinking.\"\n\n\"It was part of the court order. Along with the restraining order.\"\n\nI waited in silence while he got two glasses from a cupboard and filled them from a container in the fridge. He crossed the space to me and I took the glass of water from him without getting up. I brought it down between my legs and stared, watching the tiny bubbles and spin and rise to the surface.\n\nHe sat on the couch nearer to me than far. I was transfixed by the dance of the bubbles and though I knew I should, I said nothing.\n\n\"So are you going to tell me what this is about? Or do I have to pry it from you?\" I winced a little--hopefully internally.\n\n\"God! You're such a horrible person Lisa, and you don't even realize it. Worse, you think you're the victim in all this! You're right, I did terrible things, and I probably deserve most of my lot now, but you're just as at fault as I am. And you know what? I've made my peace. I can't say I'm a happy man now, but I've accepted the life I have now and from time to time I enjoy it. You? I don't need to be a psychic to know you've been running from the blame. Going from one victim to the next, twisting and warping logic to make things their fault.\"\n\nHe was right. It had taken me a long time to see it. I was so adept at manipulating people that I was manipulating myself. There I go again, trying to blame some \"other\" part of myself rather than accept responsibility. \n\n\"Stanley, that still never made it right for you to hit me. Or kill our son.\"\n\nI saw the anger flare up in his eyes and the veins in his forehead begin to grow.\n\nHe screamed, \"I had no choice!\"\n\nA glass shattered.\n\nI looked to see if Stanley had crushed his in anger, or I dropped mine in fright. But neither had happened, Stanley sat petrified, outburst forgotten. The sound had come from the bedroom. \n\nHe turned his head slowly toward me and said quietly, \"You stupid fool. You selfish, idiot woman.\"\n\nI couldn't control my tears at that point. \"It was the only way I could have Fintan back with me.\"\n\n\"Don't you get it?! You can never have him back. He's dead. He's more than dead. He died once from meningitis, and you made a deal with some demon to bring him back to life, but that wasn't our son that came back--our son never had red eyes or sharp teeth. So I crushed it and took its head off with a shovel because it was a demon and not our son. You made an infernal deal and didn't read the contract.\"\n\n\"You don't understand…\"\n\nA growling began in the darkness of the bedroom and the trailer shook. I looked out the windows, but the sun had ceased; the only light now the weak incandescent lamps in the corners of the rooms. It would all be over soon and I would have my son back. Stanley just didn't understand that he had become a monster. When he had murdered our son, he broke the pact we had made with the demon and it left us with…a hunger. \n\n\"You don't understand that this is for the best. Your final duty as a father, a last sacrifice.\"\n\nStanley was a screw-up anyway. Fintan would be better off without him in the picture. The demon left us with a hunger, but I used it for good. Feeding on the scum, the rapists and wife-beaters. What was Stanley doing? Draining rabbits and the occasional highway crash roadkill? That's no life for our boy. He deserves a good role model. And every mother needs her boy.\n\nThe cabinets began banging open and shut while the lights flickered. Dishes jumped on the shelves and the broken shards picked themselves off the floor and hung in the air. I backed away from Stanley.\n\n\"You're crazy! Whatever deal you've made with him this time still isn't what you think it is. They don't play fair, and only cause chaos. Whatever he's promised you, he can't make this better.\"\n\n\"Oh, he never promised to take away the hunger. He was very honest and upfront that that was something only a miracle could fix, and I doubt any of those are going to get cast my way soon. No, he promised to make our little Fintan special too. And I can teach him how to be a strong man who does better in the world than either of us. I know it isn't perfect Stanley, but we never were.\"\n\nThe shards of dishes suspended in the air began to swirl as though a body were walking through them. They gained momentum, turning into a tornado of porcelain and pyrex. A hazy shape smelling of charred wood and burning trash came into focus in front of Stanley. It coalesced into the shape of our young son, naked and burning, skin cracked like hot pavement, glowing red and orange from his molten core.\n\nAs he advanced, he seemed to age with each step. When he was in front of Stanley, he was just as tall. His hand reached out and he lifted Stanley by the throat, searing flesh where it connected. His beard began to burn and when his eyelashes flared up, he finally screamed. The scream fizzled out in a hiss as air began to escape the open holes in his neck. The demon breathed in heavily the clouds of vapor being let off Stanly's body. With each breath his skill filled in more and he became more human.\n\nWhen the demon let Stanley's body drop to the floor, I spoke, \"Our bargain is complete, give me my son now.\"\n\n\"Oh, but mother, don't you recognize me? I am your son. And I am grown now so I don't need you to teach me how to be a strong man. But there is one more thing I do need my mother for…\"\n\nBefore I had the chance to contemplate how things had gone so awry, I felt sharp pain in my left side as the tornado of shards pierced my skin. I fell to the ground with the force and my head hit the coffee table. Darkness began to close in around me.\n\nAs my soon advanced on me he said, \"I need my mother so I can feed one more time.\"",
"\"You must be desperate, to come here.\", he said, looking me up and down the way one appraises roadkill on the side of the highway to estimate how long it's been there.\n\n\"I am.\", I replied, gut turning inside me, but steeling myself to this. There was no turning back now. I had nowhere left to turn. The agency was after me, as they were after him. But he had done it, he had eluded them for months. I had to know how, before they found me.\n\n\"Well, might as well come in then. No good talking on the porch. Lettin' the AC out.\", he turned, and went back inside, and I followed, shutting the door behind me once I was in. My eyes slowly adjusted to the relative dimness of the interior of the trailer. Empty beer bottles, old pizza boxes, a few flies still interested in them. Damn. It didn't make it any easier to see, coming here to ask a favor from him.\n\nHe dropped himself onto the couch, and just looked at me, dead-eyed. I began haltingly, \"Look... I know you despise me. Got every right to. I know what I did to you. I had to, you understand? You betrayed the agency, and I had to follow protocol. It's not like I wanted to. But I didn't understand then. I had to. I get it know though. I understand why, and I had to get out. But now they're looking for me too. And I need your help. You got away, you survived, I was barely able to track you down, and I knew you better than any of them. I need your help. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, I will, but I need your help.\"\n\nHe looked at me, unblinking. \"You want to make it up to me?\", he asked, finally. \"Yes!\", I replied urgently. \"Hand me that box over there then.\", he responded.\n\nI looked where he was pointing and grabbed the small black case, and handed it to him. He opened it, pulling out a pistol. \"Well, you can.\", he said, as he fired."
] | 3
|
|
[WP] You wake up to a beautiful morning. The birds are singing, there's not a cloud in the sky. This is terrifying to you.
|
[
"This couldn't be happening. The perpetual, wall to wall grey was gone. Replaced with this lurid sky and blinding light; The birds were noisily reveling in this fleeting glow. Why was there no warning? Where was the familiar comfort of the subtle light from the clouds? You look at the clock: just gone ten past nine. In your heart you know it's all ready too late: your plan to visit Kendal, which had been planned for weeks, is already in tatters. *They* were already loose, and causing havoc and despair in their slow, wide wake: The caravans were now surely impeding the M6 to the speed of cold treacle, and there is **nothing** you can do. Even if you could reach that infernal roadway now, the perpetual construction works, without a soul in sight, will further hamper your journey. Another weekend perhaps...\n\n\nWritten from first hand experience :) ",
"This shouldn't be happening. It's been so long since I've seen sunlight. Is he gone? Can I finally leave? \nI vaguely recall getting that drugged up feeling again last night, it isn't uncommon. But usually he'll tell me when he's slipped it into my drink or food. As horrible as he is, he doesn't like me to be too uncomfortable. And I never put up a fight anymore, I've learned that it's easier to take the beatings while I'm unconscious. He took me about two years ago, I was walking home after my shift at the bar. He grabbed me from behind and used what I would assume was a tranquilizer in my neck, I was out in less than a minute. \nWhen I came to I was surrounded by brick walls and I'd had a chain linked to my wrist. I won't go into grisly details, but in my panic I decided to break my hand to be free of the shackle. And when he came in that night, I attempted to escape. Kicking, screaming for help, but with one hard blow to the head I was out again. Eventually he'd forgotten about the chain and I'd decided there was no use in fighting anymore. You know, since he had the courtesy to take out his rage while I was unaware. Yeah, I'd wake up in pain but he was always sorry and he always gave me pain pills the next day. I call him Charlie. But I don't know his real name. When he's nice, it's like we're best friends. But he's never moved me before. It's always been brick walls and a locked door. The sunlight burns against my eyes. And I never thought I'd hear birds again. \nMy eyes are beginning to adjust now, and it looks like... A hospital room? I don't know if I want to be out. I don't know if I want to answer questions. What if I can no longer survive outside of confinement. I don't ever want to walk a street alone again. And what if he knows where I am? ",
"Light.\n\nI blinked rapidly and sat up, squinting at the light pouring through the window. Something... something was wrong. This light wasn't normal. It was too bright, much too bright, and-\n\n*Chirp.*\n\nOh God. \nI sprang up out bed and promptly tripped, my feet tangled hopelessly in the sheets. I sat up hurriedly and stared out the window as i tried to untangle myself.\n\nI saw a blue blur fly past and let out an involuntary yelp, scootching backwards on the floor. I listened silently, and began to hear it more, and with an alarming constancy.\n\n*Chirp!*\n\n*Chirrrrrrup!*\n\nIn a panicked haze, my mind wandered back to when Christy was still in my compound and we'd play together. I pictured us sitting criss-cross opposite each other, singing.\n\n*Bluejays, Sparrows, Mourning Doves\n\nBirdies of the world above\n\nWe will never see you again\n\nUntil the sky comes crashing in!*\n\nI was snapped out of my reverie by a rumbling sound, and the floor shook. I ran outside and looked up. \n\nThe hard soil ceiling had given away, and the ceiling lights that had been our only ones for so many years were bent and laid about the sidewalk in piles of dirt. Sunshine shone in. Birds flew around what had once been the only place safe from the disease. I looked around, hoping to see someone, anyone that was here with me.\n\nMy friends and neighbors lay dead around me, their skin glistening with sweat and tongues swollen. \n\nIt was here.\n\nI ran inside and called 199. As the phone rang, I felt myself start to sweat. Soon, the dizziness hit me. I screamed into the phone, waiting for someone, anyone, to respond.\n\nNo one picked up.",
"Clear, Cloudless, Bright and Blue\n\n\"Damm it,\" he said as he pulled cord and drew back the bedroom curtains. \n\n\"What's wrong babe?\" she sleepily asked. He said nothing. Which made her roll over and look towards her husband who was standing and looking out the window, motionless.\n\n\"I thought I planned for this. I thought I read the weather last night. I thought I planned correctly,\" he said. The bright sky outside the window cast a shadow on his wife as she lay in bed behind him. He stood staring at the world outside.\n\n\"Why? What's wrong?\" she asked. She looked towards him.\n\n\"I thought I.. I would have... If I had known... You know I plan for this. I've planned for this sort of thing for a long time,\" he said.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\n\n\"If I had known it was going to be like this today... I'd have called in sick and stayed in bed.\" His wife, still puzzled climbed out from under the sheets and blanket and crawled across the bed. She swung her feet out and down the the floor, just behind her husbands feet. She stood, poking her head up under his arm, wrapping her arms around his middle. She looked out the window beside him, seeing the same view as he did.\n\nOutside was their back yard, green and lush. A wooden fence stood there, it's pale brown wood still seeming freshly installed. Beyond that, was their neighbor's yard, also just as green but in need of a mowing. Toys and various sporting goods lay strewn about their backyard - their kids never put stuff away. She thought that if she could ever get her husband to agree to having kids, their kids would allways put their toys away. She also saw trees that lined their yard and in the distance trees in their neihbor's yards. She saw flowers too, and the tops of the houses around them. In the very distance she saw power lines. The birds were also singing. She saw nothing that frightened her or scared her in anyway. It was all perfectly normal.\n\n\"What are you talking about? I don't see anything going on at all,\" she said backing away, and sitting down on the edge of the bed.\n\n\"It's the sky,\" he answered.\n\n\"The sky?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes. The sky,\" he answered emotionless. He turned around looking directly into her eyes.\n\nShe peered around him, looking outside at the sky. She has just looked outside, but this time she looked upwards to the sky. It was bright and surprisingly blue. Bluer than usual, and, moving towards the window, she could see from the right to the left, from horizon to horizon, up and down, there were no clouds - not a single one. The sky was clear, cloudless, bright and blue.\n\n\"Oh my god, it looks great out there today,\" she exclaimed.\n\n\"Yeah, it does,\" he said still staring out the window.\n\n\"What could you possibly have against gorgeous weather like this,\" she said with a smile. \n\nHe sat back down on next to her on the edge of the bed. \"It's been many years, but it's still there,\" he said.\n\n\"What is?\" she said looking back to the window.\n\n\"That day.\"\n\n\"What day?\"\n\nWith his eyes fixed out the window, he started to talk. \"It was many years ago. I was a lot younger. I lived in that apartment overlooking the river, and I hadn't even met you yet. I was working that landscaping job, but I had a that day off. It was rare that I had a day off in that time of the year, you know... with all the early fall prep we usually do. But, I had a day off and I had tons of plans. I remember I was going to wash my car. Do some laundry, maybe workout, then go grocery shopping. It was my turn to go grocery shopping. I started off with pouring myself a bowl of cereal and a tall glass of orange juice. And I flipped on the TV. Turned the dial and started watching some morning show. I didn't watch much news or morning TV back then, I just hoped I'd get a weather report. You see, back then I'd love to see a day like today. For as long as I can remember, as a kid and all... I loved days with weather like this... with a sky like this. It was just like this, beautiful and pure blue. It meant I could play outside all day and not worry about anything. As a grown up it meant I could get all my errands run, and do outdoor stuff and not worry about getting rained on. It meant I had a perfect day ahead of me.\"\n\nHe paused for a second or two, but his eyes only blinked as he continued to look out the window at the blue sky. \"I had just started to look at sports section that was sitting on the table and I heard some little story on the TV about something happening downtown. One of the high rises had a fire and they didn't know much more. I kept eating. Then they said reports were coming in saying it was a missile that hit a tower. Then they cleared that up by saying it was actually a plane. I thought, 'wow, that hasn't happened in years.' I Remembered a story about a foggy day and some airplane ran into the Empire state building. I turned around and looked out the window. I could see across the river and see most of lower part of the city through my kitchen window and over the building next door. I didn't see anything odd at all. I went back to eating.\"\n\nThe husband stood up and turned around facing away from the window. \"I finished eating and went to get dressed, but I stopped in the bathroom, and I didn't used to do this every day, but I flossed and brushed my teeth. Then I got dressed. I wore a red t-shirt, and blue shorts. I was kinda warm outside and I was going to wash my car. But, when I got back to the kitchen and started cleaning up my dishes... they had it on the news. They had a camera on the towers and one was smoking. I sat and watched and thought, 'damm, my roommate works in that building.' Then they said it was an airplane that had hit that first tower. Then the second plane hit the other tower.\" \n\nHe turned to his wife and said, \"Charlie was my roommate then.\"\n\nAs she heard the name Charlie she remembered, she realized, and she closed her eyes and listened, and though she had not heard this story before, she knew how it ended. She knew who Charlie was, she knew how he died. She knew how everyone who died that day, in that place and the others, was a hero. She knew what happened that day affected many people, but it was new to her how if affect her husband. She sat at listened, she knew he had to tell his story. From that day on, she would know how this kind of day would make her husband feel. She knew what he would think about if he woke up and looked out at the morning sky and saw it clear, cloudless, bright and blue; he would remember that morning.",
"I had slept through the night somehow. My lips chapped and my mouth dry, I pulled the moth-eaten scarf closer around my face. I saw before me a well of sandstone, aside a little hutment upon a patch of verdant grass. What providence! Weakly, I shambled closer, ever closer, to the well.\n\nMany things have gone wrong for me. The recent drought has robbed my village of its crops. There was a great exodus, and few remained with whom I might trade goods to support my wife, my young children. I was left with no option but to travel far to sell just enough wares to survive. Of course, I told myself I would not cross the Great Desert. It is a land of the exiled and the forgotten. Yet here I stand, the fool I am. \n\nMy caravan was ambushed by raiders, and I was dragged along before being tossed out and left for dead. I saw nothing but dunes extending for miles around me. \"Have mercy,\" I pleaded, \"or slay me now. But do not leave me to wither here! Please!\" They grinned, spat onto the sand, and rode away. For two days I walked, beneath the austere gaze of the sun. I ate lizards and dug sleeping holes in the sand as the Great Desert laughed at my fate.\n\nI knelt upon the ground, the blades of grass tickling my knees in the breeze. Hope and awe resonated in my bones. I reached out and touched the well, felt the coolness emanate from its depths. Shadows flitted above my head and I heard the soft warble of a young bluebird. It serenaded me as I cranked the well's crane. And as the shadows gathered and its song receded, as my salvation slowly rose from the belly of the earth, the truth struck me like a bludgeon.\n\nI looked up and saw a group of vultures circling above me. They looked gluttonously upon me. There were no bluebirds. I had heard no song. The Great Desert had chosen to taunt me one more time. I looked forward again and saw nothing but sand. The desert stretched before me eternally. I swayed and fell prostrate on the sand, enervate and feeble. The vultures flew ever closer, preparing to feast upon my grave. As everything faded to nothing, I recalled the first time I met my wife. How we danced that night, how the thrums of the marketplace reverberated in the cool, night air. How gently she held our firstborn son. Malik, his brown eyes glinted always with curiosity. He was our little guardian. He will care for his sister well. I see her cherub smile, her beautiful smile. My Fayadhina... \n\n \n ",
"For as long as anyone can remember, the sky has been covered in darkness. It was the norm. Sometimes it rained, other times there was hail. Most of the time there was no precipitation at all. We still have a day/night cycle, but nobody knows where the little light that shines through the clouds comes from. As far as we know, there is nothing above the clouds. Darkness was our entire life. Until our nations were thrown into chaos by the harshness of the light. \n\n\nI woke up to the sound of screams. I jolted out of bed and ran downstairs. Outside, people were running around furiously. Cars were on fire, there were people curled up in a fetal position, and general chaos was in the air. But the most shocking thing of all was a huge hole in the clouds. The light was pouring in through the hole! I saw an ocean of blue with a ball of yellow flame in the middle of it all. My mind was on fire! ",
"Things used to be different. \n\nI used to love days like this. \n\nI can still remember warm summer days, playing outside until the stars would come out. Singing and laughing with my friends and getting into endless trouble. \n\nOur mothers would run out, shouting at us to behave and to calm down. But we always knew they loved to see us play together and do the same things they did as kids. We could hear them downstairs after bedtime, talking and chatting, sharing stories about all the trouble they used to get into. Sometimes it would even inspire our adventures the next morning!\n\nThings are different now. \n\nNow I look for the cloudy skies, the days where the sun isn't peeking through. I long for overcast, gray, gloomy skies. \n\nBecause those are the days when the drones can't fly. "
] | 7
|
|
Bonus points if you can actually get someone to believe you. Also, no "Mark cheated on Bill" drama, or anything like it.
|
[WP] Create a believable news article based off of a made up fact.
|
[
"Family of 5 caught smoking Marijuana in the middle of Dallas Walmart parking lot. \n\nThis morning at approximately 10:30 am, a Walmart employee in Dallas, Texas received a call complaint that the south-east end of their retail parking lot smelled of Marijuana. A supervisor was notified and approached this area of the parking lot about 5 minutes after receiving the call. The Walmart employee searched the parking lot, filled with the customers often seen on a Sunday morning rush, to find a 2005 Pontiac minivan with the trunk door opened. The car appeared to have smoke coming out of the back windows and trunk, with Wiz Khalifa playing loudly, attracting the attention of many shoppers. As the supervisor approached, a scuffle was heard inside the car, with what sounded like \"a mother figure demanding harshly to turn down the radio and shut the back trunk,\" according to the supervisor. By the time the walmart employee stood next to the vehicle, the windows and trunk were closed and car was started. According to the source, \"it was obvious at least some one had been smoking pot,\" when the driver (46 year old Martha Dickens) finally opened her window. At this point, the employee had already called 911, and had planned to remain until police showed up. When a full search was performed on the minivan, three children - aged 5, 8, and 11 - were found to be highly under the influence of Marijuana, along with their mother, and her boyfriend De Anté, 29, who is suspected by police to be in the United States under illegal immigration. Martha and De Anté have been charged with 2 counts of possession after Dallas police found 12 grams of Marijuana and two water pipes with reminance of the drug. The couple will also undergo charges related to \"child drug endangerment\" and being principle to poisoning minors. The living arrangements for the 3 children are to be decided in court next month while they are temporarily placed under the care of the CAS. "
] | 1
|
Edit: alien / human first contact? 😉
|
[WP] spaceships have allways been grown, it's a known fact that it cannot be done any other way. A drifting craft has been found, a mess of parts, rivets and welds, an abomination.
|
[
"It was a calm day in the quadrant. War hadn't touched the place in, oh, fifty turns, and it showed. None of the planets there dealt with any leftover radiation, thanks to the dedicated clean-up crews. Species were slowly coming back. Ships were starting to grow again, though only shuttlecraft had been harvest-able, so far.\n\nThat's why, when a grey hunk of metal came crashing into the atmosphere of Lark-42, it was a cause for alarm. They hadn't seen craft like that in fifty turns. It was an abomination of a thing - driven purely by inorganic thought, and driverless. There was no symbiosis between splorch and starcraft. It was just...a tool. A lifeless tool.\n\nIt didn't look new. There were only rebel Terrans left behind, and they'd long since either died or gone slightly senile. None of the surviving ones were really any use at identifying it. One pointed out that it looked similar to something he saw at a fair in his youth, but what good was that? Until they could figure out what it was, and why it had suddenly popped up, the entirety of Lark-42 was quarantined. \n\nOne day, a brave and slightly dumb splorch decided he was going to do his duty for monarch and country, and break into the thing. He snuck in mid-day, while everyone was still asleep, and bravely took a thwack at it with a hammer he found. Something spilled out of the craft at the smallest amount of force, and before he knew it, the whole abomination had simply fallen apart in a pile of parts and shoddy welding.\n\nAgain, he wasn't the smartest splorch, but he could recognize a trash pod when he saw one. The entirety of Lark-42 was advised to never bring up the matter again.",
"Commander Nightfall stood on the bridge of his Warship turned Freight hauler, watching as his crew run through system checks and their daily processes before he re-engaged another void crossing. This old ship had seen a hard war and didn’t have a lot of the fancy technologies of the other one but the Ship herself didn’t mind.\n\nAnarayl had a sweet angelic voice that he had thought was a gift from the heavens but after serving in the War with her that voice could, could easy be, like nails down a chalkboard. Perhaps he was bias but he really felt the third generation vessels had the best personalities and traits but when you’re stuck with someone who has saved your life on more than one occasion it’s hard to have a bad word to say. \n\n“Commander” her voice rang. He was deep in thought remembering the time when the authority had constructed their metal ships, a team of scientists had sworn black and blue that this new alloy they had created would protect the crews from the Void. Sure the simulations came up with remarkable results, even their test flights showed no issues however they were only quick jaunts to the edge of the solar system and back. Every Captain of a living ship knew that was nothing but despite our protesting, which fell on deaf ears they continued ahead with moving them into active service. In this age creating a interstellar hoping metal coffin was an easy task compared to growing the ships that first gave our simple race space travel. \n\n“Commander!” Her sweet voice shrilling through Command deck, some of the crew turn to look. Laughing to himself, he asked her to stop calling him Commander, he hadn’t been in the military for years, not since Anarayl had been released from service and asked him to accompany her as she explored the galaxy of her own free will for once, fighting when and for who she wanted. \nLife was good though. He was turning a nice profit doing the more dangerous missions and taking exploration gigs which help keep Anarayl stocked with a full complement of crew members, she wasn’t a young ship and it wasn’t fair she be expected to split her mind onto so many tasks. Not when the edge of known space held hostilities that few knew and even fewer had experienced. \n\n“COMMANDER!!” Her voice rang harshly through across the deck, all hands now looking at the Commander, in another one of his absent minded states that he occasionally got into when he allow his mind to wander. A small smile crossed his face as his eyes came back into focus and soon he was looking aware slightly bemused at the fuss he had caused.\n\n“Yes, my dear… What is it now?” he replied sarcastically.\n“We have a large object on the edge of the sensor horizon” she replied then a moment’s hesitation she followed with “It is an Abomination… A class…”\n\n‘A class Abomination’ God, he had thought they left known space years ago, called by some beacon that had them all just turn around and headed for deep deep space. They stopped attacking ships, station and settlements and just with a single mind left us all alone. However seeing this ship back… It was the beginning of something, not fun and certainly not good…\n\n",
"\"It's a well known fact that only large living things can withstand travel through the void. Only living ships have a hide thick enough. It has been that way for millennia. The few who questioned why this must be suffered a horrible fate: they had their question answered,\" the feminine voice emanated out from the walls and ceiling. \n\n\"Yes, we all know this, Viara,\" Captain Grova addressed his ship, a gulper-class freighter that was currently hauling rare metals to a foundry world. The path was through a sparse and distant arm of the galaxy where almost nothing happened. Except for this time, they found the ship, \"But it still there. A ship made of metal and inorganics!\"\n\n\"Yes. It's an abomination, captain, \"Viara stated matter-of-factly, \"I may not be a warship, but I do have some anti-piracy emplacements. They should be enough to completely destroy this... this thing!\"\n\nCaptain Grova thought for a moment and then nodded to himself, \"No. I'm going to board it.\"\n\n \"Sorry, Captain. My audio sensors are picking up something completely crazy. Did I just hear that you wanted to actually go into that metal doom ship?\"\n\n\"Yes! I've been traveling with you for over 500 cycles. We've been making the same thirty-six different runs since you accepted me as you Captain. I've been needing a little adventure, and this is it!\"\n\n\"No, this is insanity,\" the living ship sighed, \"You don't know what's on board that.. thing. You're not prepared. Look, how about I send a few shufflers over and you can see through their cybernetic suites. You can even control one if you want?\"\n\n\"Oh, very well. We'll do it the safe way.\"\n\n\"Shufflers are ready, Captain.\"\n\nCaptain Grova sat down at his chair and connected a tendril to his brain port. Suddenly, he was seeing out of the eyes of one of the bulky grey shufflers. The labor constructs were usually controlled fully by whichever living ship they worked on.\n\n\"Well, lets see what lies within a metal ship!\" with a mental command, the shufflers forced their way open through the decrepit airlock and looked around.\n\nViara made a sigh-like noise, \"Apparently, corpses lie within a metal ship. Just alien corpses. People who probably now figured out that traveling without an awesome living ship like myself is impossible and just leads to dead bodies. Are you satisfied now, captain?\"\n\nGrova's shuffler shook his head negatively, \"We just started. And who knows what killed all these aliens. It could have been disease or a life support malfunction or...\"\n\nWhatever the captain was about to say got stuck on its way out simply because he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The corpses, the long dead corpses moved. Not in any of the way they were supposed to, but in a horrible boneless way like a liquid made of skulls and flesh and bits of spacesuits. The dead pulsing mass merged with other corpses, rising up until it blended with the ceiling. Then, a grizzly spear of rotting bone lashed out, spearing one of the shufflers and impaling it into the metal wall. Then it happened again. The bone spears were actually absorbing the shufflers from the inside-out, turning them into shriveled husks before absorbing even those. The last thing the Captain heard through his shuffler was the sound of horrible wheezing laughter.\n\n\"You were right, Viara! Fire all your weapons until that horror is globs of molten metal!\" Grova yelled as he tore the tendril out of his head. \n\n\"Sorry, Captain. The ship has activated it's engines and is about to void jump. I'm bracing against the void emissions now. The ship is gone.\"\n\nCaptain Grova sat in his chair, taking in deep breaths and letting them out. Then he came to a decision, \"We have to stop it.\"\n\n\"No, we have to warn the military and their war ships should take care of it. I don't want to get within a light year of that awful thing. Now you see what happens if you try to travel through the warp without a living ship protecting you?\"\n\n\"I'll turn into a corpse monster?\"\n\n\"That's actually one of the better things that can happen,\" Viara laughed without humor. She remembered how she had been selected for a new flight system. How the artificial shielding failed. How she screamed even as she grew and consumed. How she became the same ship which she had been now for so very long. She shook the memories away, \"Now let's head to the nearest station and let them know where we found the horrible thing.\""
] | 3
|
[WP] You just caught a Pokémon in Pokémon Go, and decided to send it to the professor. It turns out he has a more nefarious purpose for it than you thought.
|
[
"I had mixed feelings about this catch.\n\nIt was a CP 67 Ratatta, which is great and all. But, I have a CP 42 Ratatta that I spent quite a bit of Pokedust and candies on to power up. So I felt like *that* was a waste. But oh well, who cares. I'll just transfer my old Ratatta to the Professor and get 1 candy. I let the Rattata out of its ball and went on my pokedex and hit \"Transfer.\" A faint blue beam of light came down from the sky and hit the Ratatta. It instantly disappeared. \n\nWell, on to catch more. I heard that someone found a Blastoise in the dorm shower. I'll go look there.\n\n*\n\nI sat down in my chair after just taking care of another transferred Pokemon. Today's a pretty hectic day. It's tough being the professor. Might have to turn off the servers so I can rest for a little bit.\n\nJust as I was getting comfortable I hear a **ding** from the Pokemon Transfer Room. \n\nGoddammit, another one already?\n\nI walk to the room and open the door for what seems to be the millionth time today. It's a Ratatta. Of course it is. They're literally everywhere.\n\n*Well, here goes nothing*, I think to myself.\n\nI grab the Rattata by the tail as it growls and tries to escape.\n\n*Ha, trust me, growling isn't going to reduce my attack power.*\n\nI throw the Rattata onto the work table and give it a shot of tranquilizer. It immediately faints. I grab the butcher knife on my right and *SLAM*. \n\n\n\n\nI don't enjoy doing this, but someone has to. After a while you just get desensitized to it.\n\n\n\n\nThe head rolls off the work table. I grab it and start pulling the brains and skull out until I'm left with just the skin. I go to the body and pull out all of the organs and bones. I push all the innards to the side and grab the two frail pieces of skin and throw it into the candy maker. Then I pour in the usual sugar and corn syrup and hit \"START.\" A few seconds later a small, circular purple piece of candy pops out. I place the candy in the Candy Transfer Machine and pull the lever. The candy disappears instantly.\n\nI walk back to the work table and pick out all the bones and throw them into the trash. I grab everything else and put it in a small plastic container that I place into the fridge.\n\n*I'm not really hungry right now, I'll save it for later. I had just finished eating a Jigglypuff. Those are pretty filling.*\n\n*\n\nJust as the Rattata disappeared a purple candy appeared in its place on the ground. I'll always be amazed as to how quick that happens. \n\nAs I was walking toward the dorm bathroom, I spotted a CP 20 Eevee hanging out in the hallway. I already captured a CP 51 Eevee. So, I'll just catch this one and transfer it for a candy."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] As the lava got closer, the helicopter gunships circled, and the mosquitoes swarmed around them, Diane turned to Mike and said, "Well, it could be worse."
|
[
"\"What do you mean, it could be fucking worse?\" Mike said as he swatting a couple of mosquitoes away.\n\n\"Well I'm just saying, Mike, we should look on the bright side.\"\n\n\"What bright side? We're going to be dead within fucking minutes! Even if we manage to maneuver over this very deadly lava then surely the cops will shoot us dow-aw, damnit!\" Mike said as he got bitten by another mosquito.\n\nDiane waved her hands around her face and said: \"Well it's not gonna help complaining about it, okay? If my mother thought me anything it's to keep up the optimism at all times.\"\n\nMike took a step back to avoid the lava. \"Yeah well if your mother hadn't hidden those bodies in our backyard then maybe we wouldn't be in this position!\"\n\n\"Yeah well how do you think I feel, Mike? I'm close to death too! At least you didn't just find out your own parents framed you for murder.\"\n\n\"Well who framed who isn't gonna matter a whole lot when we get swallowed by lava now is it?\"\n\n\"Actually I'm pretty sure this is magma,\" said Diane, \"see Lava is when the volcano has just erupted and-\"\n\n\"I really, really don't give a shit.\"\n\nThe helicopters flew down closer, and a policeman exclaimed through a megaphone: \"Attention, this is the Central Intelligence Agency. Get down and put your hands on your head or we will open fire!\"\n\n\"How are we supposed to do that right now if that would require lying into the mag- lava, whatever, face down?\" yelled Mike.\n\n\"That's a really good point but I don't think they can hear us, Mike,\" said Diane sarcastically.\n\nMike rolled his eyes. He picked up a rock to throw at the helicopter but felt its heat quickly dropped it. \"Aww, god damnit, stupid superheated rocks!\"\n\n\"See that's definitely magma.\"\n\n\"Could you stop arguing the semantics of our death trap and instead try and, maybe, I don't know, find a way to fucking survive this?\"\n\n\"See there's the negativity again\", lectured Diane, \"Why did your parents never raise you to not be such an asshole?\"\n\n\"Well at least they weren't fucking serial killers.\"\n\n\"Walked right into that one\", said Diane swatting a mosquito against her arm. \"Anyway, you were the one proposing we'd flee into an active volcano in the first place\"\n\n\"Well every other way was swarming with cops...\" Mike spit out another mosquito. \"What should I have done?\"\n\n\"Well maybe we could have turned ourselves in instead of running into a certain and long, painful death.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to jail because of my fucking in laws.\" Mike spit into the lava.\n\n\"It's better than being 'fucking' swallowed alive by magma isn't it?\"\n\n\"Only just.\"\n\nThe lava kept approaching, and Diane and Mike backed up against the steep mountain side. The policeman spoke again. \"This is your final warning, get down now!\"\n\n\"Okay\", said Diane, \"What if we signal the helicopter to let down a rope or a ladder or something, they probably have one of those don't they?\"\n\n\"Well they're not gonna see us gesturing anything with all this smoke and all these god damned mosquitos!\"\n\n\"Well at least I'm trying to think of something instead of just scolding at everything. Do you really want to be such an asshole in your very last moments?\"\n\n\"I don't know Diane, I don't want any last moments at all.\"\n\n\"Well, you're shit out of luck.\"\n\n\"It's really happening isn't it,\" sighed Mike. \"We're actually going to die.\" Mike looked into Diane's eyes. \"Diane, I want you to know that I've never despised you.\"\n\n\"I loved you too Mikey\", smiled Diane, \"for at least the first couple of years.\"\n\nDiane and Mike embraced. They kissed each other one last time as the lava gnawed at their feet. No screams were heard from between each others lips, and it was over in less than a minute."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] In a world where magic is seen as normal and technology is seen as bad, you are a technomancer.
|
[
"I can put it off no longer- it must be tonight. \n\n\nThe moon is huge, swollen with light. It dangles in the sky like a fat, silvery berry that’s too heavy for its branch. Every wizard’s guild from here to the Sacred Sea will be out performing celestial rituals tonight, collecting all the moonlight their amulets and talismans can hold. Even a grub like me, with not one drop of magical ability to speak of, knows that nothing fuels a spell better than pure moonlight.\n\n\nWizards get prickly when their moonlight mana stores run low, and the sky has been overcast for the past three lunar cycles. With the wizards all dried up like this for so long, requests for monster slayings have tripled. Sure, grub warriors can get the job done, but most of them still need charmed weapons, potions, and healers if they want to survive the ordeal. \n\n\nNow that tonight is clear and the moon is full, not one wizard will be guarding the guild hall. Which means no one will be guarding the electrum.\n\n\n“We’re gonna nab loads tonight, Bandit.” I scratch behind her good ear and she yips in agreement.\n\n\nBandit is my hound. She’s an ugly mutt, but tough as nails. Her front left leg is a homemade mechanical prosthetic, courtesy of yours truly, so she looks a bit pieced together. She’s as loyal as they come, though, and ferocious in a fight. Which is lucky, because we run into quite a few of those in my line of (illegal) work. \n\n\nMy name is Juniper Woodfrey, and I might be a grub, but I’m also something more. I’m a technomancer. Technically, that means I’m also a criminal, but I don’t like to go around advertising that. \n\n\nTechnology was banned back in the Fourth Age, the same time the Celestial Council, which was created to oversee all guilds, was established. Most of the history surrounding what led to the outlaw of technology has been censored or long forgotten. The Council always spouts the same nonsense when the issue of technomancy comes up: Human dependence on technology left us dangerously defenseless and weak in the past, leading us to the brink of extinction. To ever allow the study of technology again would be the same as signing our own death warrant. \n\n\nWell, I’m not dead yet. And the only thing I’m on the brink of is running out of materials. I’ve been out of electrum for moons, and I desperately need it. It’s the last thing I need to complete my next project. \n\n\nThe problem is, electrum is rare and in high demand. Guilds stockpile it because it has a number of magical properties. Most notably, it retains moonlight mana better than almost any other metal. Other, cheaper metals tend to ‘leak’ mana over time, but electrum has the ability to contain the power without allowing the magic to drain over time. This means that electrum is the best metal to use when creating amulets or talismans meant to store mana.\n\n\nI need electrum because it’s highly conductive. In fact, it’s the only metal conductive enough to maintain the high electric voltage I need to complete my next project. \n\n\nThere are dozens of guilds scattered throughout the area, large and small. Fortunately for me, there’s only one guild within a hundred miles that has the wealth, status, and power to have access to electrum. Unfortunately for me, that guild is the Black Serpent. \n\n\nA notoriously dangerous, violent guild, Black Serpent is a wizards’ guild known to take on only the most treacherous jobs. Large-scale theft. Espionage. Assassinations. How they have managed to stay within legal operation is a mystery to me. How I will manage to survive stealing from them is also something of a mystery.\n\n\nI’ve been staking out the Black Serpent guild hall since sunset, lurking in a grove of trees about a quarter mile away. Now that the moon is at its high point, the guild members are outside, gathered before the hall as they prepare to complete their celestial rituals and gather mana. It’s time to strike.\n\n\nBefore I move out, I check to be sure all my gear is in place. First, in my belt, my most important weapon is sheathed. It’s a handheld metal wand, about the length of a dagger. On one end is a wooden handle, on the other are two sharp, needle-like spokes. I call it my ‘stunner’- I activate it by pressing down a metal pin in the wooden handle, and electricity flows through it and electrocutes anyone or anything touching the metal spokes on the end. It’s good for close quarters combat, and it’s my favorite weapon. \n\n\nIn a small pouch at my waist are several chemcircuits- small round contraptions slightly smaller than my closed fist. Inside each individual chemcircuit is a small device that produces an electric current when activated, as well a sealed pouch of chemicals. To activate the chemcircuit, I pull a pin that activates the current and splits open the chemical pouch. The chemicals and electricity mix and react and cause a small explosion. Depending on the type of chemical within, the explosion acts differently. \n\n\n There are different types, each with different properties. I’ve labelled them with different colors. The blue chemcircuits contain only grey powder, and when the pin is pulled the explosion creates a smokescreen for cover. Yellow chemcircuits flash a blinding, bright light. The red is my favorite- the chemicals inside are acidic, and eat away at stone, wood, and metal. \n\n\nFinally, strapped to my wrist is a small device that look a bit like a timepiece. It’s a small electric light that will illuminate my path. I can change the direction it points and quickly turn it on and off to avoid detection. I couldn’t bring a torch or a candle inside, after all. I don’t want to be discovered by my light source. \nEverything is in place. It’s time. \n\n\n“Off we go, Bandit,” I whisper. “Keep an eye out for me, will ya?” Bandit faithfully licks my palm in response, as if to reassure me.\n\n\n“Here goes nothing,” I sigh, and advance towards danger like the idiot I am. \n\n**I might do a part 2 if I have time later! This was a really fun prompt!**\n"
] | 1
|
|
The leak itself is like one you would find in a building when it rains, but this one is just coming out of nothing apparently.
|
[WP] You're a normal family man going about your normal life when on your way to work one morning you notice a steady drip of water like a leak coming from the clear blue sky in your driveway.
|
[
"Mother Alien: \"Sam, did you leave the faucet in the bathroom on? When I was upstairs I heard the water running. The sink overflowed and got all over the rug and the towels...\"\n\nSam the Alien: \"That must have been me.. OH WAIT!... did I leave my 'Human Galaxy' ant farm in the bathroom? I hope the water did not ruin it.\"\n\nFather Alien: \"Don't worry Sam. Those humans are not that much money. We could get you another farm at the store.\""
] | 1
|
[WP] You wake up in an abandoned house in an empty village and remember nothing. Next to you is a solar powered device that allows you to communicate with a stranger.
|
[
"\"Hello, Jacob\".\n\nThe voice is placid and nondescript, almost seductive, pulling me from a dream.. a black dream.\n\nI roll over, half opening my eyes. A grey, rectangular device dominates my vision. I close my eyes again, it's outline floating like dots against my eyelids. *Huh*, my alarm looks weird. My head is getting warm and fuzzy again as I drift ..\n\n\"Jacob.\" The voice is more insistent now, losing its patience.\n\nMy eyes dart open. I'm looking around. *What? Where am I?* I'm panicking, trying to take in as much information as I can about the room. One window, a table, the mattress I'm lying on. *Mattress? What?* \n\nThe alarm is not..*Is some form of receiver*; a walky-talky.\n\n*The voice..*? \n\nI sit up.\n\n*The receiver*.. is buzzing, humming against my beating heart like a drum machine.. I slap my head with my hand, hoping, *praying* I'm just stuck in some form of vivid, lucid dream.\n\n\"Jacob, don't do that.\" The voice is almost sarcastic now. Derisive.\n\nI panic, jumping up. Five steps and I'm at the window, looking out, but I can't see anything. The window is brown, black and yellow with dirt, and there's moss and roots growing through the seams of the window, as if trying to reclaim the house. *What the..* \n\n*Where am I?* \n\n\"Listen, Jacob.\" The voice is slow and deliberate now. \"The key is on the table. You need to get to the bell tower.\" \n\n\"What the fuck? Who *are* you? What do you want?\" The trepidation in my voice scares me, making me feel even weaker and more hopeless. \n\nThe receiver switches off, leaving a deadening silence. I decide to disobey the voice, grabbing the key from the table only out of fear. *It's better to have the key than to not have it*, I reason with myself. \n\nI fumble with the door, turning the knob the wrong way, my hands shaking uncontrollably. *Who put me in here? Are they still in the house?* I become frantic. The door opens, creaking in objection. I'm outside now, looking around. Small, neat, grey on grey houses. Smashed windows, abandoned cars. It feels like I'm on an old movie set from the 1920's. The place even looks black and white. There's nothing. No life; no people, no birds, no nothing.\n\nI try to think back to the last thing I can remember. I was in bed. My parents had been out, I remember that. Sally had been...\n\nSALLY.\n\nTerror grips me. I'm panicking, my breath rising. I can barely breath. My little sister. Did they get her too? I'm looking around, frantically now. I start running, screaming her name, paralyzed with fear. I run until I can't breath. I stop, falling onto my knees, squeezing my fists, tensing every muscle, screaming with every fiber in my body. \n\n\"Jacob.\" \n\nThe voice is neither masculine nor feminine.\n\nI freeze. I look up, seeing his, *it's* shoes first. Utilitarian, black boots. Gun-metal grey trousers. Black skin-tight, lycra T-shirt against a lean, firm looking body. I look up further, squinting, straining my neck.\n\nBlack, skin-tight mask. No nose, no mouth hole. No face. *Nothing*.\n\nI scream, falling back. I stumble, jumping to my feet. I'm running, sprinting, running so fast my body is nearly hurtling in front of my legs. I turn a corner, chance a glance back. He, *it* is gone.\n\nI turn back around. I freeze. A bell-tower looms over me, it's paint a faded red. \n\nAnd then I see it.\n\nThe dread births itself in the very pit of my stomach. It's more like a *thing* than a feeling. It feels like a worm, sitting in my gut and then slowly making it's way up my spine, my neck, reaching the back of my throat, my head, slithering its way from the back of my brain into my frontal lobe, where it swells and then dissolves, permeating and trickling back down through every vein and artery in my body, suspending me in paralysis, perspiration running down my brow, onto my nose, face. Sweat reaches my lips. I rub it off with my right hand. I can taste the salt on my tongue. Stale.\n\nI feel faint. My gaze is blurry. I shake my head and refocus my eyes on this thing, this *body*, hanging from the bell tower. It's clothes, hair, are worn and grey. And there's something hauntingly elegant about it, just hanging there under the sun by it's neck, gently swinging back and forth like a rag doll, it's skin a pale yellow, like cheese. \n\nI close my eyes, but the image is engrained, *seared* onto my retina.\n\nI open my eyes and look around again, at the grey on grey houses, the sun beaten tarmac. There is a van closeby, a faded blue, and more cars. A pram. Dead trees, moss, invasive roots. *No life, anywhere*. Just unyielding grey; a concrete jungle, and deafening silence. \n\nThe place looks like it had just been completely abandoned. Nobody took their cars, nothing. I look down at my hands, they're shaking, back at the body, down the street, both ways, back at my hands, shaking.. \n\n*Where do I go? Where's Sally? What do I ...*\n\n\"The bell-tower, Jacob.\" The voice is in my ear, almost a whisper.\n\nI gasp, startled. I'm spinning, turning, looking around me. There's no one there. Tears start rolling down my cheeks. I'm crying, heaving uncontrollably. My vision is growing blurry with nausea. And then I see him, *it*, at the corner I'd just turned. \n\nThe worm in my brain digs deeper. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turn around, and there he, *it* is again, at the other end of the street. There are *two* of them. I glance back at the first *it*, then at the second. Both take a step towards me, pause, then start walking. But their arms, bodies remain inert. The only thing that moves is their legs, graceful but menacing. Careful steps.\n\nThis, more than anything, even the body, fills me with a feeling of wretched despair. I begin to feel like I'm being dragged into the ground by an anchor. I almost let it take me. \n\nBut then I think of Sally, and my senses sharpen. If she's here too, I *need* to find her.\n\nI look back at the bell tower, at the body, at the door. I swallow hard, at the body, at the door. It begins to open, very slowly, as if inviting me in, daring me to investigate, uncover, discover it's secrets.\n\nWithout thinking, I'm walking towards it. I place my hand on the door, gently opening it. Blackness.\n\nI hesitate, then walk in.\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] A 20-something Girl Dates Jesus Christ After Meeting Him On eHarmony.
|
[
"She was lying in bed with her laptop pressed up against her face, while stuffing her face with Cheese Doodles. She had a few pimples on her forehead, which were conveniently covered by her new trendy bangs, and had eyes which were just a bit too close together. Many found her attractive though, just unconventionally so. This is Elisa Jenkins. Elisa was sick of hearing about her friend’s latest dates and hook-ups, and tired of people badgering her with questions like “Why are you single?!” or “Do you like the idea of dying alone!?”. So she decided to make a profile on eHarmony. Elisa had a thing for long-haired men, the more they fit that one-love-hippie-stereotype the better. She also has a thing for Jewish men. So when she stumbled over the profile of “WaterWalking0”, she got pretty excited. \n\nEthnicity: \n\nJewish\n\nOccupation: \n\nCarpenter/philanthropist\n\nPersonal quotes: \n\n“If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor”\n\n“And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time.”\n\nShe thought the second quote was kind of odd, but was more than willing to look past it. The arrow hovered over the “Message” sign and she clicked on it.\n\nSurpisaItsElisa\n“Hi! How’s it going!?”\n\nHe replied straight away.\n\nWaterWalking0\n“Hello, I am good, how are you my child?”\n\nShe thought that this too was weird..but figured it was just hippie talk.\n\nSurpisaItsElisa\n“Bit bored lol, do u have any plans on Saturday?”\n\nWaterWalking0\n“Well it is the Sabbath”\n\nSurpisaItsElisa\n“oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were religious as well”\n\nHe took a moment to reply.\n\nWaterWalking0\n“But I wish to meet you!”\n\nSurpisaItsElisa\n“Cool! There’s this new vegan restaurant called The Barn on Wilson Lane that I’ve been wanting to check out, would 8ish be good?”\n\nWaterWalking0\n“I say we shall go forth, for it sounds very promising”\n\n\n“Hm..maybe he’s high”, she thought, but she liked to think of herself as open-minded so she was still into him.\n\nSurpisaItsElisa\n“..cool! seeya there! I’ll be wearing a red dress!:P”\n\nShe was pretty nervous, this was her first date in ages, and she had never tried online dating before. She put on her only red dress, which she noticed had mustard stains in the front, and her Buffalo high heels from high school (well..she didn’t have any other shoes that made her tall, and she had lied about her height)\n\nShe sat in the bar section of the restaurant, he walked in at exactly 8 pm. He smiled and noticed her right away. \n\n“Hi! I’m Elisa..but I guess you know that already!”, she smiled and laughed nervously.\n\n“Of course, I’m Jesus”\n\n“Oh..is that Spanish, like Jesús?”\n\n“No, Jesus.”\n\n“Um..Okay..Bit unusual, but really cool!”, she chuckled again.\n\nThey went for a table far in the back and the waiter came over with the menu. He started listing various dishes with words she couldn’t pronounce like, quinoa and tempeh. \n\n“Hm..I’ll just have the one with the red stuff in it..um beetroot.”\n\nThe man rolled his eyes.\n\n“The beetroot salad, beetroot soufflé, beetroot mash, beetroot burger, beetroot pizza, beetroot ice cream, beetroot waffles or the beetroot bacon side?”\n \n“the pizza..I guess?..And um a glass of red wine”\n\nJesus gave her a flattered look and smiled.\n\n“And for you, Sir”\n\n“I’ll just have some bread, please”\n\nThe man started listing various kinds of breads and after 10 minutes Jesus decided on the plain white one. “And just a goblet of water please”.\n\n“Um..Sorry?.. We only have normal glasses..”\n\nJesus looked very disappointed. \n\n“So I read on your profile that you’re a carpenter. How’d you get into that?”, she asked curiously.\n\n“Well my earthy father was one, so it sort of happened, besides I like building and helping fix what’s broken”\n\nElisa stared at him, confused.\n“So earthly father..does that mean, if I may ask..that you were adopted or something?\n\nHe laughed nervously.. “I guess you can say that…It’s complicated..”\n\nShe felt like she had touched on a rather sensitive subject, and quickly complimented his long hair.\n\n“I mean I’m so jealous! I wish my hair would grow that long!”\n\nHe shook his head and held up his hand..\n\n”No.. Wherever there is jealousy and selfish ambition, there is disorder and everything that is evil.”\n\n\nElisa was getting drunk and fed up with his non-nonsensical replies. She pretended that she had to go to the toilet. \n\n“hey Lindsey, it’s me, look can you come pick me up? I’m at The Barn with that fake hippie guy and pretty drunk”\n\n“I’m not gonna get laid..”\n\n“Because at one point I asked about coffee at my place later and he started talking about keeping the marriage pure and sexual immorality..”\n\n“okay thanks, I’ll just say I’m not feeling well.”\n\nShe left the bathroom and went back to her seat, but Jesus was gone. He had left a note on the table saying that he’ll return someday..She shook her head even more annoyed and walked out.\n",
"Jesus had only been on eHarmony for a week, but he liked scrolling through the lists of matches. His scrolling was interrupted by the hymnal-like ring tone on his phone. It was Janette, a girl he met for coffee four weeks ago. He answered.\n\n\"I don't know how, but I'm pregnant!\" she cried.\n\n\"One date? How is that possib.....oh...yeah,\" Jesus smiled, \"My mom told me to be careful. Something about my dad having strong swimmers. I'll call you right back.\"\n\nHe set the phone down and it immediately started ringing, but this time it was Susan. They had dinner at swanky Italian restaurant about a month ago.\n\n\"God damnit,\" he muttered.\n\n"
] | 2
|
|
You just woke up with a wicked hangover, no idea where you are and realize it's already been two days since the weather warning was sounded.
|
[WP] Due to solar activity and apocalyptic storms, humanity can only live above ground for about 6 months each year. However, you only get 3 days warning to return underground each year.
|
[
"Prologue: \n\nEarth.\n\nShe is no longer what she used to be. Our present is chaotic, our future uncertain.\n\nWe, the humans, burned her, cut her down and polluted her. The destruction of the protective atmosphere came first, the melted seas later and then came the apocalypse. Large chunks of lands went underwater and the temperatures became unbearable. Millions died. \n\nWe lost most of New Zealand, Indonesia and Australia. It is uncertain if anyone survived there. The southern hemisphere is now water. \n\nBut a few of us still remain in the North. Before it was too late, we were able to take shelter beneath the ground- small living spaces we call Oasis were built under the ground. Water is never the problem, but need for oxygen and sunlight to grow crops remains a problem. \n\nEvery 6 months we can come up to get safe sunlight, needed for every human, fresh air and triggers for kick starting growth of fresh crops. But for the remaining months if we come up, within minutes the Sunlight can kill us and the lack of it can freeze us.\n\nThe story:\nIt’s difficult to open my eyes. I am trying to sit up but my left shoulder pains, but less than my head does. I feel dust in my mouth and nose while I lay on my stomach.\n\nI look around but I see no one. I am in the middle of a street. I feel lucky to have woken up in the shade of one the sky scrapers. ‘Etna Corporation’ it reads on one of the fallen sign boards. \n\nI my watch and it’s 6:12 am of day 164, September 8th, 2516. I get scared to realize it’s already been 2 days since the alarm to return to Oasis Eagle, my home, was announced. Since it’s early morning, it’s safe to try to reach the Mouth before 8 am. \n\nI see no vehicle around me. I run into Etna Corp trying to try to get a view of the surrounding areas and see if I can recognize in which part of the city I am. I take the stairs and try to reach the 4th or 5th floor. It is difficult since a lot of burnt clothes, pieces of glass and unidentifiable things lie on the floors including the stairs. When I reach the 5th floor, I realize it isn’t enough to look too far so climb a couple more floors. \n\nWhen I am able to see into the distance, I can clearly see the middle of the city- a redish black cluster of burnt trees. \nThe past civilization called it Central Park.\n\nI feel relieved to find out where I need to go from here. \n"
] | 1
|
[WP] Coins Always Land On Heads. The World Is Hellbent On Finding A Non-Heads Coin.
|
[
"Coins always land on heads, and there's no exception to the rule; at least not a publicised one. his makes it difficult to decide who goes first where the determiner is either heads or heads. In online gambling and random number generators, the result is consistent and is globally unexplained, yet accepted. Despite this well-known discovery that has been known for over thousands of years and even documented long before Beowulf, millions upon millions of dollars and pounds - the world's two currencies - have been lost over the foolish belief that a stubborn bettor has the wealth, influence, and chance to change the world as we know it. \n\nIn place of this, the world's singular and central government has recently passed legislation to ban all gambling acitivities and websites offering a heads/tails section, and all site managers and owners will henceforth be sentences to a life in isolated and remote imprisonment. Although this could be assumed in an otherwise normal world to cause chaos, an overwhelming 94% of the world's population voted in favour of the ban and imprisonment plans last referendum. \n\nEarth is not too different in either setting, with the exception of a central government and the 'Tailhunt', as it is so titled. Ironically, the hunt is so engrossing that potentially well-known landmarks in another universe have become synonymous with coin conspiracy. Numerous coins have been reported to have landed on Tails in Roswell, NM. The great pyramid of Giza was ransacked and destroyed following a rumour that a perfectly weight coin made entirely out of gold could land on either side with equal chance. However, in an infectious craze and migration to Egypt, no conclusive evidence has been found, and the pyramid is no more.\n\nThe world has become rabid and manic as a one billion dollar reward has been offered by a private and unnamed collector to the discoverer of a truly even coin. The offer was immediately assumed to be a hoax but global media coverage has persuaded the public otherwise. The outbreak of interest has led to stampedes sprinting through major cities on untrustworthy hints written on global monuments such as the Statue of Liberty. The stampedes have led to over 12,000 deaths in this year alone, mainly due to trampling and lack of medical assistance. The world is in total anarchy.\n\nStanding solitarily beside an endless pool of hopeless dreams, yearning for change, an ordinary boy flips an ordinary coin into an ordinary wishing well, and walks away."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Tell me who the grim reaper used to be
|
[
"\"Who are you?\" The woman said. I pushed open the door and strode into the room towards her. She stumbled back and asked again, \"who are you? What are you doing in my home?\"\n\nShe was old, and unable to fend me off any longer. She retreated down the hall, and I followed. She kept asking, \"who are you? Please, don't hurt me.\" \nShe passed through a doorway, into what looked like a bedroom. She tried to close the door behind her, but I forced it open and she fell on her back. \nShe crawled away from me and said again \"who are you?\"\n\nFinally, I answered, \"I am Death. I am the Reaper of Souls. I am Mot. I am Giltinė, Śmierć. I am King Yama. I am Azrail. I call on everyone, rich or poor, great and weak. And all will answer.\"\n\nShe looked at me, and we both paused, examining each other. \"Why are you here?\" She said. Again, I replied, \"your time here is over. You must come with me to the other side.\"Slowly, she nodded her head. \"Alright. Alright, I'll come. But you must tell me something first.\"\n\nI was, well, intrigued to say the least. And a little taken aback. Most people when I appear go through the five stages of grief very very quickly. They deny that I'm real, they bargain with me, they threaten me, they cry, and finally they accept it.\nNot this one though. No, she knows it's over. Whether it's a heart attack or a brain aneurysm, she knows she's dead already. Lying in the same bed she is next to in fact. In a few hours time her grandson will come by to paint with her, and will find her seemingly asleep. He won't want to wake her.\n\n\"What would you like to know?\" I ask. I want to grant her request, if I can. If it's within my power I will. Out of respect if nothing else. It takes a certain sort of mettle to literally look death in the face with acceptance.\n\n\"Who are you?\" She asks. \"I want your name, and your story if you have one. Were you human once? Like us? Like me? I - I just want to know. It would make this easier.\"\n\nI pause again, and think for a while. Her, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Me, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. For a moment, I studied the room we were in. Decorated like any old woman's bedroom would be. Old musty drapes, and a lamp that looked like it was alive at some point.\nEven she knew I didn't want to answer the question. \"Please. I know it must be hard for you, but please. I just want - no, I need to know. Who are you?\"\n\n\"My name is Cain.\" \nShe looked at me with shock. \"Cain, like from the Bible?\"\n\"Yes.\"\n\nShe looked at the floor, away from me.\n\"I murdered my brother in a field. He and I presented gifts to The Lord above, I presented produce that I grew from the land, and he presented part of his flock. The Lord preferred his offering above mine, for reasons I still do not understand. And so, in my anger and my fury I struck down my brother.\nAnd so The Lord cursed me to strike down all others also. And bring their souls to him.\"\n\nThe old woman looked at me again, with pity in her eyes. \"I'm so sorry Cain. I thought you were a story. I thought all of it was a story.\"\n\n\"It was not just what I did. The murder of Abel has haunted me so. And it continues to haunt me now. If I could take it back I would.\"\nShe stood up, for the first time since we started the conversation. \"Then why does God continue to punish you? If you have repented, surely he must forgive you? Isn't that what the Bible preaches?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is. But that is not our God. He is not a merciful God. He is wrathful. And his Wrath has no limits. I am to spend eternity reaping the souls of those destined for death. Which, right now means you. I have told my story. And though it pains me, I must take you now.\"\n\nShe stepped forward towards me, and I extended a hand. \"Very well,\" she said. \"I hope you find peace in your task Cain. I hope you forgive yourself.\"\n\nAs I took her into my arms, I said \"So do I.\"",
"Johnathan sat at the worm eaten table in the small kitchen, ladling soup into his childish mouth. He could hear the swing of his father's scythe in the fields. The heat inside swelled almost as much as his stomach, this was his first meal in many days. \n\nMoments later, a tall, sunburnt, sinewy man entered his own with a straw hat on his balding head. His brown eyes scanned the room, to ensure nothing was out of place, then they finally rested on his son. He looked up from his empty bowl and smiled.\n\n\"Morning, father. How were the crops?\"\n\nWithout an answer, he strode across the room, down an uneven hallway, and into his room. Silence returned, then Johnathan could hear the water running. Peeking his head down the corridor, he could see his father's scythe propped against the wall, and felt the faint cool breeze of the cold water flow out underneath his door.\n\nThis was not unusual for the boy, for his father could not speak and his fist was iron. In his bedroom was the only shower, that only he could use. In the boy's room only a sheet of steel with handfuls of hay laid out filled in its small moldy wooden walls.\n\nDay in and day out his father would cut the wheat fields from dawn to dusk, and each day Johnathan would sit at the table, either eating what he could find among the dust filled drawers and cabinets or idly sitting, forcing back the hunger that seemed to gnaw at his bones.\n\nThere were beatings, oh yes. When the boy asked questions, or begged for food, or pleaded to be taught to farm, so he could earn a wage to provide for the family, his father was ruthless. He would beat him with a whip, the child had scars to prove it, and if the crime was too heinous, like taking the Lord's name in vein, Johnathan was forced to live outside in the blaring sun, without a trace of shade, for days on end.\n\nTime went on, the boy grew into a tall, gangly looking teenager, with straw colored hair. His muscles grew, despite his lack of movement, and he was coming to the point of being able to overcome his father. But all was the same. It appeared to him even time didn't affect his father. He continued to farm the wheat with the scythe that never seemed to rust, and continued his beatings and punishments when he believed they were fit. The once boy still barely ate, and hadn't been cleaned in many years.\n\nBut one evening, as his father stood over him, gripping in his wrinkly calloused hands the handle of the whip, Johnathan had enough. He sprung from where he cowered and sprinted down the hallway, snatched the scythe from its position and faced his father.\n\nSweat beaded his large forehead, and the sides of hair stuck to his skin. They eyed each other for some time, but when the child's father ran at him, whip held high, Johnathan closed his eyes tight and swung the the blade. All he heard was it piercing the wall, and the thunk of something falling onto the floor. Slowly opening his eyes, then them widening on their own, he released the scythe, ran over to heap of flesh and bone that was once his father, and wept.\n\nYears went by, and in that time, Johnathan grew to become a strong and sturdy man. His father was buried in the wheat field near the shanty house, and Johnathan always paid his respects when he farmed. Through the wages earned from selling the wheat, he afforded himself food for each day, and showers every three days. \n\nThis continued on for decades, until he was an old man, unable to farm.\n\nHe sat up in his father's bed, his chest heaved with every breath and his sunken glossy eyes glanced across the room for no particular reason. His liver spotted bald head was covered in a cold sweat, and his limbs felt like they were filled with cement. On the wall next to him, leaned the scythe. It was an heirloom now, despite it not having a predecessor following his death. Childless, wifeless, penniless he was to die.\n\nJohnathan closed his eyes, and an image swirled into vision against the black backdrop of his eyelids. It was a tall pale man, adorned in a black hood and cloak, much blacker than the background. He lifted his arm out towards Johnathan, his ghostly hand slithered out from the sleeve. It was as if he merely wanted to shake hands.\n\nThe man's light blue eyes twinkled under no light and his porcelain skin seemed to have a glow. Was this Death? Johnathan asked himself. Is it my time to go? The tall pale man shook his head. Without moving his mouth, he spoke.\n\n\"Like the wheat field, use your scythe to farm those souls passing on. Take my hand, and the line will continue. Do not take my hand, and you will pass onto the afterlife, like your father before you.\"\n\nFear crept up into the back of his mind, and sweat covered his frail body. To become Death? He asked. Does it hurt? Does the pain leave?\n\n\"Yes, you will feel younger than you have in many years. There is no pain, nor pleasure, once you accept the offer.\"\n\nJohnathan wasn't educated, born and bred of ignorance, but he knew the offer, despite his mind telling him it wasn't real, was too good to ignore. He was old, he was dying, there was nothing left to do but to accept. With one wrinkly hand, he reached forward in his mind and grasped the cold hand of Death.\n\nAnd so it was done. Life swirled and twisted up into his saggy fleshy limbs, embedded into his heart and brain, and lifted him up from his deathbed. He snatched the scythe from its position like he did before, and moved from his father's bedroom, down the hallway, and out into the wheat field. The sky was ablaze with yellows and oranges, and the ball of fire on the horizon gave the field's a golden hue.\n\nHe stood at his father's grave, his eyes never wavering from the irregular lump of soil in the ground. As the sun moved down below and the moon made its way up, his flesh began to fall from bone, his eyes evaporated into nothing, and his straw colored hair left with the cool breeze.\n\n",
"It's you. \n\nIt's you, right now, reading this Reddit WP \"story,\" that I wrote.\n\nIt's you, sitting at your desk doing whatever it is you can to not do work for just a moment. \n\nIt's you, sitting on the bus next to that strange-smelling dude with the long hair and fuzzy, scraggly beard, who's actually a very nice man once you get to know him (he just didn't have time for a shower this morning.)\n\nIt's you looking at your phone, sitting on the sofa in your living room whilst Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt plays in the background. Titus is the funniest, right? \n\nIt's you, standing in the corner of a party that you don't really want to be at and yet still kind of want that human contact that we sometimes crave. That guy in the corner standing by the Cheetos seems interesting. You should go talk to him. \n\nIt's you, who has those creeping feelings of doubt every now and then for any myriad reasons. Will the audience like my book? What if the editor tells me it's worthless and I should just give up? What if I actually have no talent?\n\nIt's you who once opened your eyes and saw the sunlight for the first time. Your parents were there. They couldn't see you properly though. Tears can do that.\n\nIt's you who, at some point, made love to the one who meant everything to you for the last time. They were just perfect for you. Sure, their temper was a little unpredictable at times, but their pouty, annoyed face was still adorable, and you always could make them laugh anyway.\n\nIt's you who held hands with that old lady one time, and even though those idiots at school made fun of you for it, that old lady got across the street and felt that people in the world were worth caring for. You know, she went back to her empty house, called her son and spoke to him for over an hour. She'd never done that before, not since her husband had died.\n\nIt's not just you, either, it's me too. It's your dad, your mum, your boss, your daughter, your great-great grandson. It's Julius Caesar, Ernest Hemingway, Ringo from the Beatles, and Eddie Izzard. That's right, them too.\n\nYou're reading this now, perhaps wondering where I'm going with this. Is he trying to be all philosophical, spouting nonsense in a flimsy attempt (at best) to sound nuanced and wise? Because this whole meta story-telling thing is starting to get old since that \"Flesh Interface\" guy started doing it in his story. \n\nThe Grim Reaper is all of us. Not just all of us today. It's all those who used to live on this Earth, and beyond it. It's all those who will come to inhabit the collective consciousness. \n\nDeath comes for us all, in time. Unfortunately, it comes for some much sooner than it should. But, it's not grim. Our universe was in a constant, slow but inevitable, state of atrophy from the very first Planck time. Sure, it can be a sad thing - losing my Nan-nan was the saddest thing to happen to me, and there are far too many people who have this next step forced upon them. And indeed, nobody knows what happens when the Reaper comes for you. But I know it's not grim. It is everyone who once was, is, and will be, collected upon you to aid you in the next step of conscious evolution, to add to the decay of the universe. What that next step is, nobody truly knows (well, some people \"do\" but not scientifically.)\n\nThe Grim Reaper used to be a big skeleton cloaked in shadow, with a giant-ass scythe to reap the souls of those who had fallen. Death used to be a power that God/Allah/Yahweh held like judge, jury and executioner over the world. But it is one of the two things that literally all matter in this universe is capable of: creating and spending energy. \n\nDeath is all matter. I know I've sounded like an evangelical weirdo just now and just spouted a bunch of meta-physical mumbo-jumbo, but I hope you've enjoyed reading about Death: You, Me and Everyone."
] | 3
|
|
[WP] Error 404 "reality not found"
|
[
"I'm watching him through the window: he looks human, his voice sounds human, he moves like a human. He behaves, though, like software or the internet or something electronically controlled through some sort of computer. I don't know, I'm a psychiatrist, not an IT consultant. Which, incidentally, is exactly why we've called in IT consultant. He refuses to eat. He refuses to sleep. The bags under his eyes have become a rare shade of indigo.\n\n\n\"Doctor,\" says Patti, \"his blood results are still abnormal.\"\n\n\n\"In the same way?\"\n\n\n\"In the same way. The lab techs and the pathologist and the geneticist from the university research center have cross referenced everything and there's no match.\"\n\n\nWho are you? Or better yet, what are you? Where are you from? \"Thanks, Patti.\" I have no clue where to even- this man is an aberration. After the second blood sample, I observed the nurses as they drew his blood the third and fourth times. His blood was always the proper shade of brick red; he appeared to have human blood. What he's doing here at the McClintock Behavioral Health and Wellness is beyond me. Obviously, we (I) can't help him. There must be some sort of expert on this matter, because biologically, much less psychologically, this man is... well, *strange.*\n\n\nI enter his secured room. The bathroom door is missing a knob and lock for safety. The dresser is empty (his 'street' clothes were in a locker and no one had come to drop off any other articles of clothing, hell no one had even inquired about his whereabouts). \"Mr. Gilhooley, I would like-\"\n\n\n\"Error 404, reality not found.\"\n\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Gilhooley, but what, to you, is reality?\"\n\n\n\"Error 404. This is not reality.\"\n\n\n\"Yes, but what is reality?\"\n\n\n\"Not this.\"\n\n\n\"What is this?\" I ask with impatience. I'm at my wits end with this patient. I've never felt so inadequate as a medical professional. He sits up in his bed, the blanket and sheets still perfectly made, staring blankly at the wall across from him. If not for the incessant proclamation of \"Error 404,\" he'd be considered catatonic.\n\n\n\"Error 404.\"\n\n\n\"Yes, but what is error 404?\" I'm trying hard to restrain the frustration, but it's starting to leak into my voice. I've never unsuccessfully diagnosed a patient, I have to know what is wrong with him.\n\n\n\"Reality not found. We have lost the connection.\"\n\n\n\"The connection to what?\" This was new, this was the first time that he spoke of anything other than that of the perceived error.\n\n\n\"To It.\"\n\n\n\"And what is it?\" I inquire. Finally, a lead.\n\n\n\"It is Them,\" he replies in the same distant and mechanical voice.\n\n\n\"And who is them, Mr. Gilhooley?\"\n\n\n\"Them is It and it is Them.\"\n\n\n\"I don't follow.\" Ordinarily I'd chalk it up to some form of early onset dementia or severe schizophrenia, but his blood samples- he has to be human, but apparently some sort of medical anomaly.\n\n\n\"The engineers, the designers, the architects, to put them in human terms.\"\n\n\n\"Human terms? Are you not human, Mr. Gilhooley?\"\n\n\n\"Hard to tell. Error 404, reality not found.\"\n\n\n\"And what is reality not found. What is 'Error 404,' Mr. Gilhooley.\"\n\n\n\"Connection has been lost. Default gateway perhaps unplugged. I am unsure. I no longer have contact with It.\"\n\n\n\"And what does that mean, Mr. Gilhooley?\"\n\n\n\"That it is upon us.\" He shudders, the first movement outside of his jaw moving to speak that he's made in three days.\n\n\n\"And what is *it?*\" I say, writing notes on my clipboard.\n\n\n\"It. The big It. *They* will be here shortly. Error 404, reality not found.\"\n\n\n\n"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You know the one weird trick that makes the porn industry hate you, now they've sent their best hitmen to take you down.
|
[
"It wasn't easy being Slong Johnson. In fact it was quite hard. He'd lived a long life, but he wasn't ready to finish just yet. \nSlong Johnson knew the secret of male enhancement. A trick that had earned him his name and online handle, Big-dick69. \nSlong grew up in a small Dutch village called Erecht Peenus. It was known for its icing and deep cave exploration. \nThere Slong grew up on a chicken farm tending to many cocks and chicks. \nHe started a club at age 10 and by 15 had successfully grown his membership so large that the locals had begun to talk. \nSlong knew he would have to share this with the world. \nThe internet became an outlet for Slong Johnson's huge membership of male enhancement and cock handling, but this was dangerous. There were people who apparently didn't understand Slong's work and he faced stiff resistance and hit more than his fair share of slippery patches. \nApparently some didn't want people finding out how to handle their cocks and grow membership. An elite club of a large members sent many a cease and desist, but Slong wasn't here to rub anyone the wrong way. \nHe tried to make peace, he tried to explain and come clean. \nHe woke with a knock on the door and there stud Ivan Erection. A Russian member and long time Slong fan. \n\"I don't have the balls to do it...\" said Ivan, \"I've been sent to kill you, but I've a huge respect for you.\"\nSlong was shocked, \"Kill me? why?\" \n\"They felt threatened by your large membership. Felt like you were stuck up, acting hard. A real cock of the walk type.\"\nIvan started to cry, \"I'm ruined. A hitman who can't kill.\" \n\"Get a grip,... don't want to lose your head at a time like this. I'm here anyway and we can pull you together.\" \n\n\n*Tragically the author grew tired of beating the dead horse of dick jokes in masturbatory fashion right about now. So there will sadly be no climax.* "
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Why can't I stop?
|
[
"You received a slip of paper only three days ago. It was about the size of a business card, and in plain Times New Roman, it read: \"You have one week left to live.\" That was three days ago, which meant that you only have four days left. Maybe a little less than that now. Is it a curse? A sickness? A threat of some sort?\n\nDoes it matter?\n\nYou don't know if this omen is real, but you're not going to chance it. You're going to live, goddammit. You're going to live while you can.\n\nYou going to go to the animal shelter and ask to walk as many dogs as they allow. You'll put them all on separate leashes, and in your very full hands, you'll run with them.\n\nYou're going to hold the hand of a beautiful, smiling man or woman and go running through heavy, torrential rain. You will be soaked all the way through, and they will too, and this will make you both laugh as if you've lost your minds to a wonderful fever.\n\nOn the subway, when you're getting from one place to the next, you're going to dance. You don't know how to dance -- not well, anyways -- but you think it will cheer the commuters up to see you be all goofy.\n\nYou're going to go to a gun range, hold the biggest pistol they have an taunt the targets with phrases that would make Dirty Harry proud: \"Make my day, punk!\" \"Do you feel lucky... well, do ya?!\"\n\nYou're going to dress up like a superhero and visit some little kid's birthday party.\n\nYou're going to tell you mom and dad that it's okay that they weren't the best parents in the world, and that you absolutely love them and cherish them.\n\nYou're going to use the word \"Brobdingnagian\" in a sentence because you like it, and you're not going to feel ashamed or pretentious.\n\nYou're going to go four days without irony.\n\nYou're going to get in a taxi, and shout \"To the ice-cream parlor, and STEP ON IT!\"\n\nAnd you're not going to stop. You're going to soak in every bit of every detail because it all matters. Everything matters! There's so much left to do, and the thought of all of this doesn't make you the least bit sad. There's so much left to do, and all the people that you will leave behind, they'll have a chance to do those things too. You may have only four days of future left, but god, those four days are bright."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] You're taking a hike through the woods when a man with a bloody hatchet starts running towards you. His clothes look a few centuries out of date. Too scared to move, the man catches up to you, grabs hold of you, and says, "They got her!"
|
[
"\"Th-they've got *wh-who*?\" You attempt to get the words out confidently through useless, trembling lips. \n\n \"They've got her!\" He replies sternly. His sky blue eyes are wide and bloodshot. He stares at you expectantly. You quickly survey the area. \n\n \"What year is it, Sir?\" You inquire carefully. Your eyes remain locked on the drying red substance coating the rather large weapon that lies limp in his hand. \n\n\"1847, boy! What the fuck year did you think it was? We're in the middle of a war here and you're asking me stupid questions?!\"",
" I stood there for what seemed like hours, trying not to show fear. In his eyes, I couldn't see any anger or malice, only sadness. \n\n \"Wh-who took-\"\n\n \"Where does your allegiance lie!\" The man's face changed. He was now focused on nothing but what I would answer. \"Are you a Tory!\" he asked with disgust. \n\n \"N-No, I'm not a Tory\" I proclaimed trying to sound as confident as possible (even though I had no idea what a Tory was). The man's features eased almost instantaneously. His hatchet lowered, blood dripping off slowly.\n\n \"Did you see a group of riders pass this way?\" he asked, his eyes now filled with hope. \n\n \"I can't say I did,\" I said, feeling that the danger had passed, \"Why do you ask?\" \n\n \"They have my wife,\" he said forlornly \"they found out I was spying for the general, so they barged in in the night. I was able to dispatch two of them, but I must've been hit in the head. When I awoke, she was gone.\"\n\n \"General? What general?\" I asked dumbfounded, \"and who would take your wife for helping them?\"\n\n \"Redcoats boy! She was taken by redcoats! They took her because I was spying for the great General George Washington! Who else would I be spying for?!\"\n\n \n\n"
] | 2
|
|
[WP] a shipwrecked man finds a message in a bottle. It contains a picture of himself, stranded upon the island.
|
[
"     I managed to survive on this island for two years before I found it. It took me a long time to realize what I was looking at. I had not seen a mirror since I left port, and had forgotten what I looked like. I stared long and hard at the clean shaven me, and stroked my now long and gnarled beard, wondering why someone took a picture of me. \n    Then it hit me. They took a picture of me. After I was shipwrecked. And left me here. In that moment, I was full of blind rage and flung the bottle away so hard it skipped across the water four times before it eventually started just bobbing in the water. I returned to staring at the photo, wondering why anyone would do this to me. \n    I turned the photo over. On the back was a single word. \"Penance.\"",
"He looked at the picture of himself. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he collapsed to his knees, the hot sand biting into his skin. It was too much. Far too much to bear. First came the sobs, as his heart ached and he found himself on all fours; the picture lost to the waves as he buried his head into the ground. Then came the hiccups and wails. \"Noooo!\" He screamed violently. \"Nooooo!\"\n\n---\n\n\"Should we remove him?\" The man with the glasses asked, as he turned to his colleague.\n\nThe bald man looked at the man on the island sobbing uncontrollably. Looking at his colleague, he nodded. \"Not necessary. Keep him, and observe. In the span of only a few weeks since he *arrived*, he has managed to build himself a full shelter; recreate fire, purify water and has developed new innovations to functions he was used to prior to his arrival. He has recreated the functions of civilization without external input that can sustain not only him, but any future *survivors*.\"\n\n\"This has gone beyond the original experimental parameters.\" The first man pointed out irritably. \"We should remove him, he's served his purpose. We have enough experimental data to prove to the council for sending the semina ad astra. We now how our experiments in genetic memory and recollection will work should there by a single *survivor* to arrive first. There's no further need for this!\"\n\nThe bald man turned to his partner and sighed. \"I will consider it. See to it that the storm parameters are updated. Make it last for several hours, and increase wave height to 2 meters this time.\" And he turned on heel to head to the door.\n\n\"That will kill him!\" The other cried out in concern.\n\nThe door with a press of air slid open, and the bald man looked back, eyeing the first flatly. \"We both know that--that isn't a *him*. I told you when you first signed up not to get attached.\"\n\nThe door slid shut with a hiss of air and the first looked at the screens displaying the man. Behind him, was a small village crafted by the one sobbing at the beach. \"Fuck,\" he said exasperatedly, before moving about and tweaking the storm and wave parameters. Eyeing the dial, he turned it to two and eyed it again a second longer. Turning it further, he increased it to seven and executed the command. Grabbing his lab coat, he donned it and headed for the door. He would pay the price for this, but he could live with those consequences--and if he didn't, he would die with his conscience intact."
] | 2
|
|
[WP] You are an immortal who is perfectly fine without romance. If only people got the message...
|
[
"My name is Janine Murphy. Before it was Janine Murphy, it was Martha James. Before that, it was Liza Turner. Before that, it was Natalia Bonetti- I was living in Italy at the time. I’ve also been Polly White, Lucy Dale, and Katherine Hines. There were many names before that and I’ve forgotten most of them- except my birth name, Mary Scott. Six hundred years means I’ve run through a lot of identities. I don’t mind *that* much. If you hang around this world long enough, eventually you start to meet the same people over and over and over again. The only real difference is how people dress and how they talk. They all say the same things, they all fight about the same things.\n\n Of course, I’m using this time to learn about myself, too. I’ve had a job for every identity since the 1600’s. Before that I was just a farm-wife. I remember my first job. Midwife. It was a pretty rewarding job, I got to see babes again. I hadn’t seen my own grandchildren in almost a hundred and fifty years after my deceased husband’s mother decided I was a witch who’d stolen her son’s youth. I couldn’t exactly blame her for being angry. After all, my first husband and I had been together for thirty years and he’d died at forty-nine and I didn’t look a day over twenty-six. I remember running around the countryside thinking that I might be a witch, too. Needless to say, I haven’t tried to have any more children since then. I’ve also avoided getting married when I can. That’s gotten a lot easier over the centuries. Women’s Lib may be the best thing that ever happened to all of the husbands who *didn’t* have to watch me stay like this while they got old. Though, taking a new identity every few decades has gotten a lot harder. Especially since the internet. It’s hard to find a job when you have *no* social media presence but it’s even harder to erase the social media presence of three different lifetimes. I rocked the grunge-look for about ten years during the nineties. I still have people asking me if I’m Liza Turner because, apparently, I look just like her. No kidding. That’s because I *am* her, or rather, I was. When that identity went the way of the dodo, it became my only presence on social media. I would have to be immortalized on the internet with green hair and a nose ring… \n\nBeing in relationships got boring around 1850. Then, it got exciting again around the 1920s… I miss the twenties. They got boring again in the thirties. I haven’t been married since 2008, before that I hadn’t been married since the seventies. It was divorce actually, though I’ve been widowed more times than I can count. Most of the men I’ve been involved with find the idea of being with an immortal woman somewhat appealing. They don’t find the logistics appealing, though. Uprooting every thirty or forty years, new job, new identity. I like the excitement, I like the idea of each identity being a learning experience. “What did I do correctly with this identity? What could I do better this time? What should my new job be?” \n\nOf course, there are always men who go after me. Relentlessly. Any relationship that lasts long enough for them to actually *know* my secret usually ends in one of two ways. Either the man and I get married and live a while decently happy, or we break it off and I torch my identity and move across the country. Some guys think it’s *romantic*. Best one was a guy named Peter. He liked the idea of loving me despite our differences. He liked the idea of me loving him throughout old age. He liked the idea of sticking by me when times were tough, and me remembering that a thousand years later. He thought it would give him a loving legacy. Again, romantic. Sweet, even. We were together for a few months after I told him. I told him to write poetry or something. He had the heart for it. I just didn’t. \n\n Some like the idea of being with someone who’s going to be twenty-six forever. Worst was a guy who expected me to take care of him like he was ninety-nine. He was thirty-one. Treated me like his maid… or his mom. \n\n Some get angry because I’ve been with a lot of other guys before them. Like ***duh!!*** I’m over six hundred years old! I haven’t been waiting this entire time for you. I’ve seen a hundred people just like you and I’ll see a hundred more after we’re done. \n\nIt’s not romantic. It hasn’t been for a long time. Nothing feels permanent anymore. Nothing *is* permanent. Not even the things that normal people take for granted. I’ve seen empires rise and fall. I came to America on a ship. I stowed away, trying to get away from a husband who thought I was possessed. I remember when flying was for the birds. Literally, the birds. I remember when space was for science fiction and dreamers. I remember when education was for men. I remember when people thought we’d be in flying cars by the year 2000. I believed it, too. \n\nMaybe one day I’ll be able to follow the advice of a nice guy I broke up with about five years ago, “Find some nice, immortal guy and start photobombing critical historical moments together.” I can only hope. Not that I even care about love, anymore. It’s friendship I want. Friendship that lasts more than thirty years. Thirty years may seem like a long time for some, but for me, it doesn’t feel like much anymore. I just want someone to commiserate with. Someone I won’t have to leave. Someone who won’t leave me.\n"
] | 1
|
|
[Wp] Everyone has their ultimate abilities.20 years of cooldown, using it at the most fitting moments is important.
|
[
"The first time I used my ultimate was when I was 12. Two drunken college kids ran a red light and hit my family’s car. What I remember most about it is the pain, the desperate fear of death, and the rage. When they pulled us from the wreckage my parents and I didn’t have so much as a scratch on us. The drunks were mangled almost beyond recognition. The doctors said that my ultimate must be some sort of protection but eventually I realized that they were wrong.\n\nWhen I was in my early twenties I realized that the world needed drastic action if it was ever going to change. I started working on a list of names. \n\nNow I was 38 and I was ready. I had finished my list, I had gotten my hands on the necessary materials, and I had picked a target. As the convention center began to fill up I fiddled with the device in my hands. When I felt that there were enough people I pressed the button and prepared to drop my ultimate while focusing on my list. I had no doubt that it would work, after all, no-one ever figured out how the third guy died.",
"I discovered my ultimate when I was a kid. That was rather embarrassing, and I was lucky that I got away before they figured out who was responsible. But now I understood my power, and I vowed that I would use it appropriately. \n \nAt the moment of the 20th anniversary, I did not see an immediate opportunity. I'd figured out the general idea, but the obvious target - the revolution in Turkey - ended the day before. So I waited. I obsessively tracked civil strife throughout the world, waiting for the right moment. No one would see this coming. \n \nTwo years and nine months later, it happened, this time in Mauretania. Mass protests. Police crackdowns. No military involvement. Perfect. I boarded the next flight for Nouakchott. And as I stood in the street, between the protesters and the police sent to beat them into submission, I closed my eyes. Most of my life, I had been waiting for this moment. \n \nI raised my hand, pointed it at the police, and cried out \"AND THEN THE WINGED HUSSARS ARRIVED!\" \n \nEight thousand medieval Polish cavalry came boiling out of nowhere, the wings on their backs producing a deafening noise. Their lances and sabres made short work of the cops. In four hours, the Winged Hussars controlled the city, and I controlled the Winged Hussars. I handed off power to the protesters, and boarded the next flight home.",
"Typically, most people find out what their \"ultimate abilities\" are by the time they turn 13. It's actually fairly tricky sometimes, because some accidentally discover it when they are little children, but the skill is underutilized or insignificant at the time that they have to wait 20 years to fully comprehend it.\n\nTwenty years is an extremely long time. In the United States, for example, you may live long enough to see it used three times if you use it at the first opportunity. Some people can go their entire lives without ever using their talent, waiting for the perfect opportunity and feeling every chance isn't quite right.\n\nAnd some people's abilities are truly impressive. A good friend of mine, Scott, has a talent that allows him to basically sway people in a room to believe in his opinion. It always made me nervous, suspecting that maybe he had gotten me at one point. He assures me that he values me too much as a friend to want to do that. I take my constant doubt as an assurance to that, but leave notes to myself to keep me reminded of what I should believe around him. That said, he has managed to use it to secure a very prominent role in the government. He can't manipulate people across a screen if he wanted to, so he makes sure he is a respected advisor to all that are important.\n\nJason can become completely invincible for a day. Bullets don't hurt him, knives break on him, poisons can't do anything. For 24-hours, death holds no dominion over his life. Surprising, since he is pretty unassuming otherwise. He became friends with a cute girl, Sarah. She is capable of making someone immensely strong for a period of time. We love hanging around her, great at parties.\n\nCourtney can rewind a day. She's made millions playing the stock market. Who wouldn't do the same, right?\n\nOther talents aren't quite that impressive considering the cooldown. Teleportation? Hope you enjoy being stuck wherever you may be. Making a perfect copy of a person or thing? Big woop. \n\nThere are a few people in the world that can completely rejuvenate and heal someone. They usually use it on themselves, attaining eternal youth in effect. They probably made out it in the end.\n\nMe? My power is interesting, I suppose. On its own, it's nothing impressive. By myself, I would not have gained an empire. On my own, I would not lead hundreds of powerful men and women. People that can change their shape, wipe people's memories, distort reality. On my own, I would not lead the world behind the scenes, with me and many others living in comfort. \n\nSee, on my own, I can reset the cooldown of as many people's talents as I choose with the snap of my fingers. On my own, I have to wait 20 years to do it again.\n\nBut I am not alone. I have a sister, who can do the same thing as I. See, together, 20 year cooldowns don't exist anymore for us.\n\nOr anyone we favor.\n\nEDIT: Thank's to u/Silver_Elite for pointing out a mistake I made that kind of defeated the whole point of the story in my head. Hopefully the story makes a bit more sense now. :)",
"I glanced at my watch, just 10 more minutes. Some opportunities only come once in a lifetime, I was one of the lucky ones. I knew what to expect and I wanted to make it count. Some people never use it again, some abilities you wouldn't want to use again. Sandra the Stretcher was a great example, I wouldn't want arms as long as hers and I don't think she wanted them either.\n\n9 minutes. It's like being a child all over again. Funnily enough 9 was the age I first used my 'Ultimate' as we call them. Now, at 29, I had a second chance to make it worthwhile. \"Stop looking at your watch.\" It was Carla, my girlfriend, if there was one person in the world I trusted to share this moment with me it was her. \"Sorry,\" I replied. \"I want to get the timing just right though.\" I glanced up at the moon. The sky was clear, honestly it couldn't have been any more perfect for what I had planned.\n\nOur voices echoed across the beach, it was empty. Most of the time I wouldn't have thought much of it but with 8 minutes until the New Year I thought more people would have been out. I put my arms around Carla and pulled her in close, she was tense. \"You still haven't told me what it is,\" she whispered.\n\n\"All part of the surprise,\" I replied as I kissed her cheek softly. Just 7 more minutes now.\n\nI closed my eyes and went back to the day I first used it. New Year, midnight. I thought it would be clever to use it back then, part of me wishes I had waited. I was with a girl that night too, she was 6, the little sister of one of my friends and thinking about it I think her reaction was pretty appropriate. \n\nOnly 6 more minutes. There are some things in life which I am truly grateful for. Getting a second chance to use my ultimate is probably one of them. The past 2 years I've been counting down the days to this moment, much to Carla's annoyance. She used her ultimate on her 5th birthday, apparently having knowledge of the coming 30 seconds takes all the fun out of opening birthday presents. She hasn't used it since.\n\nA burst of light lit up the sky suddenly. Fireworks, someone is a little bit keen. Still 5 minutes left. \"Remember our first date?\" I asked her. It was certainly a date she would never forget. We came to this very same beach and bought ice cream together, everything was going well until a stray football smacked her in the back of the head. 2 hours in hospital was followed by a week of me visiting her house with ice packs and chocolate. She smiled as we reminisced, 4 years together and so many memories.\n\nAnother minute had passed, just 4 remained. I wondered what Carla would say, whether it would be as magical as I imagined it would be. Thoughts rushed through my mind at 100 miles per hour, my mind was a motorway and Carla was at the centre of it all. \n\nI walked with her to the shop where we bought the ice creams on our first date. It was closed, obviously, but the sign still read 'Ian's Ices' in big blue letters just as it did all those years ago. I grew up in this town and made sure to visit the beach as often as I could. I knew the owner, he watched me grow from a boisterous little boy into a mature and reasonable adult.\n\n3 minutes. It felt like an eternity. I had been bouncing off the walls of our apartment like a child all day just waiting to take Carla out for this one magical moment. This would be my final time using my ultimate, 2 times was more than enough.\n\nThe final 120 seconds, 2 minutes, 0.03 hours. My mind was in overdrive, if you asked for my name I wouldn't have had a clue what to say. Not knowing what to say was my speciality, especially when it came to rhetorical questions. I had a terrible habit of answering them and it was never the answer they wanted to hear. \"Would you speak to your mother that way?\" Mrs Norris' voice echoed. The correct answer is to not say anything, I know that now. Apparently telling her I would do it any day of the week and twice on Sunday is considered backchat and is not appreciated in school. That was my 1 and only detention. I avoided speaking my mind after that.\n\nThe home stretch, the final minute. Nothing is more agonising than watching the seconds tick by, counting the seconds until my ultimate would be available once more. Half way there. 30, 29... The distant sound of a car radio counting down the seconds joined my mental countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... This is it.\n\nI took Carla's hand and looked her in the eyes. \"Carla, I've never been that great at speaking my mind but for the next minute allow me to tell you some of the wonderful things that I've thought but never said.\" I took a deep breath. \"When we first met I told you my favourite colour was green. I said that because when I looked into your eyes they were the most perfect green I had ever seen.\" Her cheeks began to redden and her lips spread into a smile. \"If I could wake up guaranteed one thing for the rest of my life, it would be to see you smiling next to me.\" I took a half step back and bent one knee before her.\n\n\"Carla, these past 4 years have been incredible and I wouldn't change a single minute of it, even if I did stand you out in the cold for 10 minutes just for this moment.\" The soft sound of fireworks in the distance created a perfect background noise, just as I had hoped. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small box, Carla put her hand over her mouth and I lifted the lid. \"So Carla, I've got one question for you, will you marry me?\" She nodded quickly, I could tell she was speechless as I slipped the ring onto her finger. The perfect proposal, at the second time of asking.",
"I don't know how anyone else sees it but to me 20 years is an awfully long time.\n\nWhen we're born, we have no idea what our ultimates are. Most researchers seem to think they arise out of \"hidden potential\". After that, they remain in a state of permanency: when you call them again they'll have the same effect as the first time.\n\nSome people never use their ultimates. They wait and wait for the opportune moment and it never comes; fact is, most people don't have crisis \"make or break\" moments in their lives. It got to the point where the terminally ill would always be sent home when they reached critical condition; whilst most ultimates are harmless in the damage sense, some have explosive or violent potential.\n\nI used my ultimate for the first time when I was 24. I'd just qualified as a nurse and was working diligently on some paperwork when the first victims came in. Some kind of experimental bomb had gone off in the upper atmosphere. Thousands with toxins in the bloodstream, unable to breathe. Those inside hadn't been hit too hard at first but as the minutes ticked by and the vapours circulated around even the largest buildings, we started to feel the effects, myself included.\n\nI didn't know what to do. We needed a solution but our chemists were stumped, and surgery wasn't helping. People were dying.\n\nI remember thinking that we needed a solution to this problem, right now.\n\nI checked my wristwatch, noted the time, and dropped my ultimate. And suddenly, everything became clear. I knew exactly what I had to do. I walked to the lab, batted the confused technicians aside and worked harder than I'd ever worked in my life.\n\nThey called my ultimate a \"hyper-processing\" ultimate. They said it gathered things I'd already heard or seen or done and put them to use; even if I'd long since forgotten. A niche power that came through in the moment but didn't have any world-breaking applications.\n\nThey never caught the person who made that bomb. I wish they had. When the T Plague happened 10 years later, we could have really used my ultimate. Over 20,000 people died in six days.\n\nThe next time I used my ultimate was at the age of 46. I'd been in the bank when an armed robbery had started. They'd tied our arms and put bags over our heads to keep us quiet. The situation had built to a standoff between the Police and the thieves which kept getting worse. One of the hostages had dropped his super strength ultimate and been immediately shot by one of the criminals. The Police would not let them get away, and as the criminals prepared to shoot another hostage (a young cashier) she had screamed for someone to help her.\n\nI remember thinking that I needed to save all these people from the robbers.\n\nI dropped my ultimate. What happened next is a blur to me. But when my ultimate ended I was stood in the middle of the room with seven incapacitated criminals next to me.\n\nMy arms were still tied behind my back with a bag over my head. Blinded.\n\nAll seven of the criminals had dropped their ultimates.\n\nI'd stopped all of them.\n\nAt the end of it all, the press had reported my success as a victory of \"brains over brawn\", where my own experiences watching martial arts movies and so on had been reproduced by my ultimate.\n\nThey'd said that my ultimate was a hyper-processing ultimate.\n\nThey were absolutely 100% wrong. \n\nI am now 66. Exactly 20 long years since my last ultimate. I have spent the past six years gathering supplies and restocking a lab. It's been difficult; the world has really gone bad in the last fifteen years. Economically, the entire country is bankrupt. The environment is worse than it's ever been thanks to a brief nuclear skirmish between some small countries. I'm still working at the hospital, but we can't help most of the people that come in. We simply don't have the resources. Crime is high. And once again, people are dying. My own family included.\n\nWe need a way out. Too many problems, not enough solutions.\n\nAs I drop my long-awaited ultimate, I think that I need to be able to use my ultimate more often.\n\nAn hour later there is a solution on the table."
] | 5
|
|
In other words, write an adventure story (or part of one) from the bartender's perspective
|
[WP] You're the bartender at a medieval pub, and some very adventurous people just walked in...
|
[
"When I had first opened a decently sized pub, The Warrior's Spirit, near the old Ardennes, where there are tales of the ghosts of thousand of warriors fighting with fantastical weapons that caused great bloodshed, and it's even rumored quite a few of 'em remained in there which attracted all sorts of dark and unholy creatures, along with power-hungry individuals who wanted to have some of those weapons which in turn, attracts quite a few adventurous people who try to find some of those old weapons of war for whatever reason they want.\n\nEnough about that, I'll tell you about the most well-known group, as well as strangest, group to have come by here. So one day, around evening, where the large crowd for the night was starting to trickle in, which resulted in me cleaning up the results of a bar fight that occurred with some sort of ogre from out west, and a cocky rookie who said that the ogre fella looked ugly, when a group of six people burst in. They consisted of a dwarf in well-made dwarven chain mail, who was short and portly, with an orange beard, and had a battle axe on hand, chatting with a man, with brown hair, who wore an red, old, naval uniform, with a blue and white striped shirt along with a beard, along with a high-quality sword thee origins of which I could not put my finger on. \n\nAnother pair of men, who both wore goggles, but with different apparel on themselves. The one on the right wore a relatively strange coat, with several pockets, having a white color and with a purple shirt underneath, which is by the way, extremely expensive, and had blonde hair and a small goatee with some sort of crossbow, that had some sort of powder propel the bolt. The other man had a plate of armor that defied description, and had an old, battered, hat, with some old goggles on top of it, with a large brown beard, with a longsword. The two were debating about how potent the old weapons in the forest could be.\n\nAnd they also had some females in their group, with the first having raven hair with red tips, in a shirt with horizontal, and vertical stripes, with some medium leather armor, along with blue breeches that had some light leather armor on them, and had a bow. The other female had blonde hair with blue tips, the name with similar clothes to the former,with heavy metal armor on her chest and arms, with light metal armor on her legs, along with two short swords, and a longsword. The two were arguing who was a better healer.\n\nThey all went to the counter, and sat at the stools there, where they were expecting to be served by someone. As it was, I was the only person there, with most of my workers off that evening, except the cook, since I thought this evening would be pretty slow. It wasn't, so I had to do so many things at once.\n\nMind you, I don't really know them, but even so, I felt a strange sort of Deja vu when meeting them for the first time. I promptly shook my head of that thought, I just went back to the bar, after cleaning up that bar fight from earlier, and asked, \"Alright folks, what do you want to drink?\"\n\n\"I'll have a crumpet, with 3 rounds of beer,\" cried the Dwarf, who immediately added, \"and some pretzels!\"\n\n\"I'll have a whiskey, the strongest you have preferably,\" said the dwarfs friend in the red shirt, looking like he wanted some to knock him out fast.\n\n\"I'll have a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, if you know how to make some,\" the fellow in the white coat asked, to which I stared at him like he was mad, and replied with, \"No, I'm afraid I don't sir, but I have other drinks If you want.\"\n\n\"You know what, guys,\" the man with the old hat, strange armor, and old goggles, loudly and abruptly, proclaimed, \" I'm going to buy a round for everyone else here!\"\n\nThe female with the black and red hair told him, \"Sijn, will you please shut up, you're going to make us into fucking beggars by the time we get home if you keep on with this type of shit.\" and since they sounded like they had come a long way from home, who could blame them? Not me, since I've seen enough idiots do such things, then not be able to pay the bill for everyone.\n\nAnd since they sounded a bit tired, and I decided to feel nice, I replied, \"You know what, I'll make a round for all of you on the house, since you seem to have traveled a damned good way. but after that, you're gonna have to pay.\"\n\nThey all looked a bit better at that, and the aforementioned Sijn, said, \"Oh wait, we forgot to introduce ourselves. I'm Sijn, Mrs. Knickers in a Twist is Ki--\"\nand he was abruptly stopped by Kim slapping him in the face.\n\n\"Ow..., goddammit Kim, did you really have to do that?\" Sijn inquired.\n\n\"Yep, I did have to after you called me 'Mrs. Knickers in a Twist'\", she replied, with a bitingly sarcasm, which made her smile a little bit.\n\n\"Alright, where were we again,\" Sijn asked, \" Oh yes, I was introducing our merry band of weirdos, I'm Sijn, that's Kim, that's Hannah, that's Duncan, that's Lewis, and that's Simon,\" pointing to them when he called their names.\n\n\"Ok, so are you going to have anything to drink fellas, now that introductions are said and done?\" I asked, a bit anxious, since more people were coming into the pub.\n\n\"I'll have an ale, if you have one,\" Hannah replied\n\n\"Oh, I'll have a bourbon or two if you have some,\"Sijn casually ordered.\n\n\"I'll have some old wine, if you have some,\" Kim asked, with some remnants of irritation in her voice.\n\n\"Oh...I only have a little bit of wine, and it's real expensive stuff, costs a pretty coin you know, hopefully you can afford it,\" As I winced from the severe price of the stuff.\n\n\"I know I can give you some thing for that wine to be at a...reduced cost,\" as she seductively waggled her eyebrows, and I paled at what that meant.\n\n\"No, I'll make sure you at least have a small sample of the stuff, ok,\" As I hastily reassured her, that bedding me wouldn't be in her best interests for getting some wine.\n\nEventually, I managed to finish their orders, as soon as I was finished with their orders, I heard a commotion near where there were some of the thugs who I owe money to sat next to Kim, and the one sitting right next to her got a little too, 'touchy', so Kim sliced off the bastards hand. And people tended to get a little pissed off when their hand is cut off. So the thug and his friends were in a brawl with Kim's friends, and then, to stop the commotion, I pulled the ancient weapon I found from the Ardennes I had found once, fired it. It sounded like thunder, which tended to shut people up real quick. And so I yelled, \"If there are any more fights in here, I'll make sure you're thrown out of here, and cant come back in here, alright,\" I screeched at the top of my lungs.\n\nAfter that, things went to normal, with the normal amount of drinking and eating that occurs at a pub of it's size, when I asked the group, what's your organizations name, and Duncan replied, We are the Y.O.G.S. which means Ye Olde Guilde of Swordsmen.\"\n\n\"Alright, I suppose that sounds interesting,\" I replied, \"would it be alright if I lead you through the old Ardennes, I mean, the whole place is pretty fucking dangerous.\" \n\nTo which it was a resounding yes. So, since I had a few minutes, we spent time going over details for me to sign so that I could join the group. It was a little ridiculous, but not too much. And so, with me writing my signature on the parchment that allowed me to become a member of the group, I was off on an adventure.\n\n\n",
"It was a regular day at the \"Sun and Stars, Tavern and Inn\". Rick was behind the bar, serving clientele of all shapes and sizes. His establishment maintained its reputation with a \"don't ask, don't tell\" policy regarding the patrons. Whatever shady business they dealt with - and there was plenty of that, Rick was sure - was to be settled outside. Despite the risky premise, guests flocked to it if not for the food and drink then for the brief respite from the clan feuds and guild rivalry. It was the same pattern that Rick saw in other forms of society: the nobility have a minor disagreement, and their servants have to go to war with one another. Here, as long as nobody caused trouble within these four walls, Rick provided a place to put all that behind. Humans dined with elves, and dwarves had an ongoing drinking competition with the half-orcs.\n\nBut every once in a while, some snotty-nosed do-gooders decided to poke their noses in and think they were doing anyone a favor by calling someone out on their dark deeds. So when a group approached Rick and started asking him questions that were a little too specific for a casual conversation, he already started reciting prayers of avoidance to his god.\n\n\"I may have heard of this Kerrick,\" Rick feigned ignorance, \"but he's a well-known bandit and sell-sword. The Shadow of the Streets? The Night Stalker? You must not be from around here.\"\n\n\"We are not,\" the lad admitted. His polished plate immediately made him stand out among thieves and streetfolk who preferred the mobility of leather. Rick thought him to be a wandering knight, but the stylized signet of a circle emanating rays of light on his left bracer told a different story. *A paragon of the light in a den of darkness. My lucky day.* \"But one of our sources told us he frequents this tavern.\"\n\n\"Look,\" Rick needed to discourage this line of thinking immediately. He hadn't seen Kerrick yet, but some of his goons were always about. \"A lot of people come to this tavern. If that's all you have to go by, you're going to need a better informant. Might I suggest you one?\" He needed to get this group out of here. The more they pressed, the more commotion they caused, the greater potential for loss of property and clientele.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, our informant also warned us you might not be very cooperative.\" The slender elf woman was wearing an extravagant robe clearly unsuited for battle, but her staff with the shimmering gem at the head made her role obvious. \"And we have different ways of finding information. Forget about him, Jonn. Let's ask around, boys.\" She turned to leave into the partying crowd.\n\n\"Listen, lady,\" Rick's voice dropped to a whisper. He was obviously not getting these four to leave easily, but he had plenty of subterfuge left - as long as nobody heard this conversation. \"I don't inquire into where my clients go and what they do. I'm not a bad guy, I'm just trying to support my family. I have a wife and two kids,\" he lied. \"If this place goes out of business, they'll starve. Please reconsider.\"\n\n\"The man's got kids, Maarleen,\" the dwarf's voice was breaking and he was tearing up. \"We can't do this to a family of innocents!\" *Yes, think of my family, Maarleen. Think of the children! Just think about it an-*\n\nRick's train of thought was interrupted by the door opening from a kick, and a huge - even for one of his kind - half-orc lumbered in. The tavern went silent, some who recognized Kerrick scrambled to get out of his way, others moved to stand at his side, leaving an open path to the inquisitive group.\n\n\"WHO CALLS FOR KERRICK NIGHTBORN?!\" he snarled, staring at the group.\n\nKerrick the half-orc, you are wanted on numerous counts of murder, conspiracy and slave trade among others. You are advised to cooperate or we will have to use harsher measures,\" Jonn started. \"Including, but not limited to-\"\n\nKerrick unsheathed his sword. Rick buried his face in his hands.\n\n\"Well, now you've done it,\" he whispered. \"You've killed yourselves, and destroyed my tavern. Roll initiative.\"",
"“Oh for Arra's sake!” I turned and stared at the bottles behind the counter to hide my expression.\n\n“What?” Todd asked.\n\n“The third bloody time this bloody week!” I muttered and shook my head. \n\n“What is?” Todd looked at me and then the dusty bottles lined up on the shelf. \n\n“Bloody adventurers, that’s what.”\n\n Todd looked to the door. I gestured for him to look away. \n\n“You mean that fellow what with the green cloak and the shiny stubble?” Todd asked. \n\n“Aye, and the lass in white with the tiara, and the hooded fellow with a bow and the shaved muscles with the leather vest and the axe.”\n\nTodd’s face fell. “I’ll get the broom,” he said and shuffled to the back room.\n\nI turned around and cracked my lips into a smile, “Welcome to the Knightly Night, good sirs and lady!” \n\n“I thank you.” The man in the green cloak took a few steps into the room. He was lightly bearded and fiercely eyed. \n\n“We are the finest in in all of Taravel! My husband recently passed, it was his inn you see, won in a game of chance and-“ \n\n“Yes, yes, I… don’t care about any of that,” green cloak said. It seemed he would not be distracted. \n\n“Tell me, my good lady, might you have any interesting news?” He took a few steps with a raised eyebrow, his cloak fluttering dramatically behind him. \n\n“News, milord? What sort of news?” I cocked my head, my mind racing. \n\nThe man frowned. “News, you know, gossip or …\"\n\n\"I get all of my news from Old Gordon, down the way at the Gilded Gelding,\" I prompted but green cloak just shook his head.\n\n\"Surely you know of a conspiratorial duke, or an ogre in the forest eating children...”\n\n“Heavens, how dreadful,” I tried to look mortified. \n\n“Rupert, you’re frightening the woman.” The white-clad beauty said. “It was just an example, there’s no ogre.”\n\n“Ogres are our specialty, as it happens,” The burly hairless one said. “Weak spot just above the knee.”\n\n“Oh, well that’s a relief,” I said. “No, no ogres thank the gods. I do have some meat pies and ale, or perhaps you would like a room?”\n\n“Meat pies? Sleep?” Rupert looked confused. “No, I don’t think you understand. You see, we’re adventurers.”\n\n“How lovely.” I forced my lips to hold their smile. \n\n“So…,” Rupert drawled.\n\nI scratched my chin. “I have some baked apples. Can add a spot of cream if you like.”\n\n“Might you have rats in the cellar? We would be only too happy to clear them out for you,” Rupert prompted.\n\n“Rats?”\n\n“You know, big ones with teeth and maybe one that’s larger and abit diseased… perhaps eating children that wander too far.”\n\n“Rupert, again with the child eating.” The white-clad woman scolded. \n\n“Here there is naught but the whispers of sky and the peril of winds.” It took me a few moments to identify the raspy voice as the man with the bow. His face was in shadow but I could see tattoos running up his arms. \n\n“Not now, Cthuluomicon, I’m trying to get us a quest?” Rupert said.\n\n“A quest is it?” I raised an eyebrow.\n\n“Aye, a quest!” Rupert encouraged.\n\n“As it happens, there is a door out back in need of mending.” \n\n“A door is it? Possessed by an evil spirit? Or is it the door to an alternate plane whereby demons enter our real to prey upon the weak?” Rupert drew his sword in anticipation. \n\n“Errr…The bolts are a bit loose and the hinge...” \n\nRupert squinted furiously. \n\n“Come to that, I did hear I strange sound the last time I was back there,” I mused.\n\n“Say no more, good lady, we will rid you of this heinous evil.”\n\nRupert sprinted to the back room, his companions close behind.\n\n“It was the door … by the ….,\" I stopped talking. No one was listening. I took down a bottle and poured a glass of amber liquid. I saluted the sounds of splintering wood and took a sip. \n\n“Bloody adventurers,” I muttered.\n\nA few moments later the band returned, exultant smiles upon their radiant faces. \n\n“The demon has been quite slain, good lady,” Rupert reported, wiping sawdust from his cheek.\n\nI nodded but could not find any words to match his enthusiasm. I took another drink. \n\n“She is overcome with relief!” Rupert relayed to his friends. They cheered.\nRupert waited, watching me with raised eyebrows. “Now there is just the matter of the reward…” \n\nI coughed. “Of course, milord, I have a bit of gold I might-” \n\n“No!” Rupert interrupted with his hands raised. “No reward will be necessary! I wish only to assist my fellows in these trying times.”\n\n“But you just-“\n\n“You need to offer so I can … is this your first day or something?”\n\n“Ok.” I took a deep breath and set my eyelashes to batting. “How can I ever repay you? Please accept this amulet bestowed upon me by my grandfather, I hear it has some magic property but I can’t find the-“\n\n“No, no, no, we already did that … just … never mind.” Rupert’s sword clattered to the ground and he sullenly sheathed it. \n\nHe went through some internal debate before nodding and turning back to me. “I wish you well, good lady. If you are ever in need, we are at your service.” \n\nHe bowed and ducked through the front door, flanked by the other three. \n\nTodd meandered into the dining room, holding a sack of splintered wood. He looked at me and I shrugged. \n\n“Bloody adventurers,” Todd said\n\nI nodded. “Aye.”\n",
"Living next to Zangdar’s tower on the road of Mir-Nodd, the legendary dwarf city, I was used to companies of adventurers. I had seen a lot of them, from battalion of dwarves coming back from the war of Tulgar Laijnek to companies of paladin trying to beat Zangdar’s tower. All those companies didn’t get along every time, those blood seeker guys always were on the verge of fighting. After so many years, I knew when my pub was about to get dirty. But this time it was different, this company was so eclectic, it didn’t even make sense.\n\nThe nameless company was made of: a ranger, an elf woman, a dwarf, a barbarian, a magician girl and an ogre. They didn’t seem really dangerous and low level, like the first time they were on a quest, and they were all pretty excited, talking about the reward about to come.\n\nThe dwarf was holding a teddy bear, making an irritating sound every time he squeezed it, and laughing every time he did it. The ranger was next to the elf woman, who was complaining about her bra size who increased since she levelled up and the fact that she didn’t predict this because she had no other bra, while the ranger was peeking an eye each time he could. The barbarian was arm wrestling with the ogre while the magician girl was supervising everything and reading a letter.\n\nEverything went south when the dwarf spitted the ale he ordered saying it was as toxic as goblin sweat and that the person who did it should be ashamed and never make ale again. The brewer who was in the room, stood up in the same time as the three goblins, shouting to the dwarf to piss off, which made the dwarf, the ogre and the barbarian to stood up and unsheathe their weapons, and then everything became crazy. The goblins attacked the dwarf, but the dwarf was caught by the ogre, making him turn, with his battle axe and being dangerous for everyone. The barbarian shouted “Fight!” and literally jumped in the crowd with his sword in front of him. The elf girl took her bow and shot arrows everywhere, piercing half of the casks I kept in the room, and touching people randomly, like the ranger in the ass. Finally, the magician girl took her staff, starting to glow, and said “zemrodne suov sednab ed sdratab”. Everyone one in the room fell asleep except for the company, who decided to get out of the pub.\n\nI came back in the main room to see the disaster: 2 goblins were dead, the brewer had an arm cut, and the room was a mess. Moreover, everyone was asleep and seemed to grow their toenails very long.\n\nMaybe it’s time for me to retire…\n",
"There’s eight of them. EIGHT. And it’s not like they’re not traveling together, either! They all pranced in here in their little laced boots and feathered hats like they owned the damn place! The whole point of an adventuring party is that you’re supposed to cover each other’s weaknesses, not create some kind of teenage boy band!! They won’t last five minutes out in the wild, that’s for damn sure, unless the bears feel like hearing songs today!\n\nOh Jesus, here they come. Lemme guess, they’re going to ask for the “Jolly Cooperation Special with added dashes of Friendship”?? Good god, are these the toughest guys the city has to offer now? No wonder most of my patrons nowadays only come around once.\n\nOh, wait… HAH!!! One of those green good-for-nothings just knocked over the Black Baron’s axe! Ohh, he’s not going to be happy about this one, I can tell right now. Last time someone did that, I had to spend half a day’s income resetting the foundation on this place! But, he paid for it, so I’ll let it slide. My returning customers do tend to be the most respectful of this place. Guess it’s cause my ale keeps ‘em happy, hehe! \n\nOhohoho, he’s getting up and those poor bastards haven’t even noticed. They’ll be lucky to keep their heads on their shoulders at this point. Won’t be strumming out tunes if you don’t have a mouth to sing with, eh? I just hope the ol’ Baron cleans up his mess this time… Well, who am I kidding? He never does.\n\nAlright, he’s swinging! Annnnnnnd the axe goes up…… and the axe goes do--?!\n\nWhat in blazes?? The Baron, he, he… did he just get knocked out?! How the hell did that dressed-up goon react so damn quickly?? And what the hell are those damn harps made out of?? The Baron’s helmet is made of some seriously hard stuff, but that bloody instrument didn’t even get bent! Hell, the strings are still attached, and by the way he’s strumming it now, it’s even still in pretty damn good tune!! And his companions didn’t even budge an inch, either! Who are these kids??\n\nWell, they’ve got my attention now, along with all the rest of my patrons. I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with them, though, and for good reason. Now that they’re up close to me, I can tell that they’ve definitely seen some nasty things. Their faces are youthful enough, but their eyes… that’s a cold glare that I haven’t seen since the days of my ex-wife, tell ya what.\n\nOne of ‘em just asked for the hardest thing I’ve got. Well, I really don’t want to disappoint here, so I’ll give them some of my ol’ Hellspawn Gin. These kids have got some fire in ‘em, but I’ve still got a lesson or two of my own to teach, hehe!\n\nHe’s downed the whole thing in one go!!! These kids might be brave, but they sure do seem stupid now, haha! Never down a whole mug in one go until you know what’s behind it, boy! He’s looking at me now, probably ready to beg for mercy!!\n\n“I thought I asked you for the hardest thing you had here. See the Baron over there? He and his minions had been causing trouble for my party for some time now, but we got information that he frequented this place often. And now, he’s dead. His neck’s snapped cleanly in two, a surgical break. And that was done by the weakest member of my party. Now, tell me. Do you really want me to do to you, what my friend here did to the Baron? And unlike him, I won’t hold back.”\n\nThe—the Baron’s dead?! Oh, Lord... Looks like I’m gonna be down half a day’s income again…\n",
"Jim could tell alot about a man from the lizard they rode. Most people just saw lizards as a vehicle to travel between the desert cities. Jim saw alot more. And owning the only tavern within a few hours travel, he saw alot of lizards.\n\nMerchants and bandits made up the bulk of Jim's customers. While merchants often rode fully laden lizards, this wasn't a very reliable read. It took a trained eye, like Jim's, to notice the thicker muscle development of the merchant's lizard. The bandit's lizard was usually packed alot lighter, but what really gave them away was their expression. They did not share the usual look of boredom that a merchant's lizard would wear. They were constantly on alert, trained to survey their surroundings, in a paranoid manner.\n\nWhen a cloaked man pulled up on a slick black reptile; Jim was taken aback. He had never seen this type before but could tell from the way it darted towards the shade, it wasn't used to the desert climate. Judging by its smooth skin, it looked like a swimmer, and the nearest coast was weeks away. The other patrons didn't notice anything strange, but they weren't well versed in the subtle differences of lizards.\n\n\"Desert ale, thanks,\" said the man as he peeled back the dusty cloak from his face, revealing scarred black skin.\n\n\"Sure thing. You from around here?\" said Jim conversationally, trying to get his bearings.\n\n\"Yea, I'm from the mountain city, travelling through to visit family in the caves.\" The man said a little too quickly. *Most mountaineers have winged lizards*, Jim thought, *definitely not from around here.*\n\nJim kept an eye on the man's ride while pouring his beer. It didn't relax out in the stables, it jumped every time the stable boy walked past. It even hissed at a neighboring scaled lizard for merely looking in its direction. This made Jim feel uneasy.\n\nSeveral more of these oversized geckos, carrying mysterious men, landed over the next thirty minutes. The lizards appeared to recognize each other in the stables, yet inside, their owners ignored each other and sat by themselves. Another gecko arrived, but this time it was different. This lizard greeted the stable boy happily and didn't try to steal food and water the moment it entered the stables. Signs of a well treated reptile. But when it spotted the others, it screeched and protested against the stable boy. Jim knew this behavior, it thought it was being led into a trap.\n\nBefore the man could enter the bar, Jim calmly walked past the patrons and intercepted him by the door. \"Leave now, I think men here are planning to kill you.\" Jim whispered. The man shot a glance inside and sure enough, a few of the cloaked men had got up and were making their way towards them.\n\nThe newcomer didn't question Jim. He just fled. The man's lizard was already straining against its tethers to get out of there. As they sprinted away, the other men all gave chase immediately, except for one. The scarred black man.\n\n\"You will regret that, barman.\" The guy said before following the others.\n\nThe threat played on Jim's mind all night. When the sun came up, he walked downstairs to open the pub. His heart started when he saw one of the oversized geckos already in the stables. He relaxed when he saw it was resting happily amongst a bunch of smaller winged lizards. The man he had warned, waited nearby.\n\n\"You saved my life, now it is time for me to save yours. We must leave, now.\"",
"It was a slow night at the inn. Three regulars and a group of mercenaries. Two regulars -- Jacqueline and Pete -- sat at a nearby table swapping chit-chat, the usual banter best reserved for acquaintances while you wait for your real friends. The other regular, Pongo, nursed his pint at the bar. It was his fifth of the night, which may sound like too much, but you know how dwarf metabolism goes. Things must not be going well with the missus.\n\nThe mercenary group in the back? I had my eye on them. They were \"passing through,\" so they said, but we've had some bad experiences with groups like this. Their outfits suggested they were from west of the mountains. What were they doing all the way out here? I'd tended enough bar to know better than to ask.\n\nI wiped down the bar, and used a towel to clean out individual pint glasses. This particular glass wasn't in need of anything cleaning -- I was just occupying my hands while I listened to the mercenaries talk among themselves. They were blusterous and a bit rowdy, not doing anything to dispel the normal westerner stereotype.\n\nThe front door opened and two more unfamiliar faces walked in. From the gear they were carrying, one was a ranger, and the other perhaps a mage. They looked in my direction and then at each of the other guests of the inn.\n\nThe ranger walked to the bar, \"Barkeep. A word.\"\n\n\"What can I do ya for?\" I asked and leaned close.\n\n\"We're looking for an assassin. Heard he might be in these areas these days. Know anything?\" She set a few coins on the bar, \"And two pints for me and my friend.\" \n\n\"I can't say that I've seen any assassin, but I have seen a few familiar faces,\" motioning with my head to the mercenaries in the corner. \n\nThe mage walked up and shook his head, \"No. This individual hails from the east. It's unlikely to be one of those amateurs.\"\n\n\"I see,\" I said, handing them their beer. \"I can't say that I've heard much on the grapevine either. I spend most of my time here, so I think I would have overheard something about an assassin.\"\n\nThe ranger grabbed her beer and downed in a few gulps, wiping her chin, she asked, \"You don't get out much, do you?\"\n\n\"I used to be an adventurer like you until I...\"\n\n\"Took an arrow to the knee. Yeah. We've both heard it before. Listen, we're in need of some supplies.\"\n\nMy ears perked up. Experienced adventurers carry good money, and by this point tonight, I could expect the regulars to ask to put their drinks on their endless tab. A little gold would go a long way.\n\nThe mage brought out his list, \"We're looking for a Scroll of Town Portal. Got any of those?\"\n\n\"A Scroll of Town Portal? We're just fresh out of stock on that one,\" I said with a hint of sarcasm. Why would we carry scrolls?\n\n\"What about a Tome of Light?\"\n\nI shrugged.\n\n\"A Scroll of Revive Dead? A Potion of Superior Intellect? Revive Mana? Anything?\"\n\nI shrugged again and smiled. \n\nHe leaned over to his friend, \"This place sucks.\" And then he leaned over to me, \"Would you be interested in buying any of our gear? We're a bit over-encumbered. And we don't have a warrior-friend to do the heavy lifting.\"\n\n\"Unless you're selling beer, meat, or bread, I'm not sure I'll be able to help.\"\n\n\"MEAT\" a voice thundered. It was Pongo. The word seemed to draw him out of his stupor. \"MEAT will do just fine about now.\" And he ran his small hands through his enormous beard.\n\nThe ranger touched the elbow of the mage and, with her eyes, gesture towards Pongo. She whispered two words, \"Hand. Tattoo.\"\n\nI glanced over and saw a faded tattoo on Pongo's right hand. The two adventurers walked over to Pongo and tapped him on the shoulder.\n\n\"Oy milady,\" He bellowed, \"How's about that MEAT.\" And then he laughed.\n\nHer expression didn't change. \"What can you tell us about Phantom Council?\"\n\nPongo, still laughing from thinking about meat, immediately hushed. His eyes moved back and forth between the mage and the ranger. \"I can't tell you anything about no Council.\"\n\nThe ranger grabbed his hand and slammed it on the bar. \"That tattoo says that you can.\"\n\n\"Aye, that tattoo was given to me. By a friend. It's not mine.\"\n\nThe mage moved close to his ear, \"What's your name, dwarf?\"\n\n\"Pongo. My name is Pongo!\"\n\n\"I'll give you another chance. What's your real name?\"\n\n\"Pongo!\"\n\nThe mage grabbed the dwarf by the beard, and the smell of burning hair flooded the inn. \"One last chance.\"\n\nThe dwarf tried to wiggle away, but his beard erupted into flames as the mage let go. He shouted and began smacking himself in the face to fan away the flames. He fell from his stool and crashed into the floor.\n\nThe ranger grabbed him by the collar of his tunic. \"You're going to tell us about the Council, and you're going to help us find somebody we've been looking for.\"\n\nThe dwarf kicked around, \"Or?! Or what?\" he spat.\n\nThe mage looked at me and put a few extra gold pieces on the bar. \"Dwarves,\" he said, \"Always going on about their 'ore'.\"",
"\"Sir, sir! Incoming, from the South! Four men in shining armor, plus a cart with supplies! Adventurers by the looks of 'em!\"\n\nI must admit I was surprised when little Charlie said that. People from the south?! I am used to get a lot of people *going* south - this is the last pub in the Fork Road before the frontier of Avernera, there's always a trickle of people on their way there, coming from Cavestown or the Brooklands. Also people from either east or west - trade caravans from the fringes of the Empire, or patrols; there's always plenty of those two coming or going. \n\nBut never from the south. People from Avernera and the outlying kingdoms have no interest on the Empire; why, the last time I had visitors from the south was - almost twelve years ago...\n\nThe doorbell jingled. The four man had indeed come for the pub.\n\n\"Beer for four, and the best stew you have!\" Said the man in golden armor. He seemed to be the leader of the crew.\n\n\"Yessir, right away, sir!\" Charlie replied, and bolted for the kitchen. He was for some reason still around, and had taken chaperoning duties for these four men. Good thing, too; I was much too gobsmacked by their presence to be an efficient host. I kept staring at them; they didn't seem to notice, their attention was too absorbed. One of them, a skinny youngster in glasses and embroidered leather armor, pulled a map and a magnifying glass from a satchel he was carrying. He put both on the table, and the man in white-and-gold armor took the glass and examined the map. The other two - a very old, skinny man in light leather, and a hunkering beast of a man, easily carrying two-hundred pounds of purê muscle under his thick steel armor - waited in reverent silence.\n\n\"Gentlemen.\" I spoke up after breaking out of my daze. \"Welcome to the Summer Tree Pub & Inn. Bartender Charlie is already providing the beer and stew you have requested; is there anything else I can do for you on this fine afternoon?\"\n\n\"Can't you see we're busy? Get lost!\" said the strongman.\n\n\"Please, Albart. Can you not see the man is offering to help us?\" admonished the older man. \"Here, sir; My name is Charlus Mason; a pleasure to meet you.\" And stretched his hand which I took without hesitation. Polite people are easier to empathize with; plus, there was something familiar about his accent, though I couldn't place what it was. \"This is Albart Tanner,\" he pointed to the strongman, \"and that is my grandson Eldred.\" The young man in glasses nodded respectfully. The old man smiled, but did not introduce their leader. \"Please come back when his Highness finishes reading the map.\" *His 'Highness'?* \"We will be happy to converse with you when -\"\n\n\"I'm done.\" Said the 'highness' suddenly; the three man came with a start and turned to him, ignoring my standing there completely. \"We will take the Host through Fork Road by the Black Coat Forest by dusk; Cavestown would be a better route, but there are too many suspicious eyes there. Charlus, I will need you to take the scout detachment at least an hour early. Albart, you will lead the men while I write my plans for when we're past Graytrickle. Eldred, you wil check on the supply carts as fast as possible, and after that you'll come back to my side, I need your help with the cartography. And who is this?\" He suddenly took note of my presence.\n\n\"He is the owner of the pub, your Highness\", Charlus replied. \"He was just offering us hospitality. Worry not, the beer and stew are already coming. *Peasant!*\" He turned to me suddenly. \"This is Prince Berdann, rightful ruler of the Calisian Kingdom. *Show your reverence!*\" And at that, he, Eldred and Albart got up from their seats and kneeled in front of Prince Berdann. I followed suit and kneeled myself.\n\nThis got a chuckle out of Prince Berdann. \"Please rise. This is not necessary at all.\" The four of us rose. \"What is your name, pub-owner?\"\n\n\"I-it's Damian, your Highness. D-Da-Damian Woodbranch.\" I stammered. The memories of King Calis came rushing; was this man *really* a lost descendant of the dead Calisian Royal Family?!\n\n\"Please forgive old man Charlus; he's sometimes too zealous of his duties as my Knight. Can't blame him really. His loyalty is true.\" He offered Charlus a warm smile, and turned back to me. \"So, Damian Woodbranch. You were offering us your hospitality, yes?\"\n\n\"Y-yes, your Highness.\" Funny how an ingrained habit came back quickly. I hadn't called anyone 'Highness' in over twelve years but the words flowed naturally from my lips.\n\n\"As I hear, the drink and food are already coming. What else can you offer us?\"\n\n\"Well, your Highness, we have rooms for the night but nothing worthy of your stature,\" - Berdann smiled at that - \"and we also offer a warm bath that is considered very very good by all our patrons, if you please. Of course, we also have a stable; we will tend to your horses, and mules if you have any, with the utmost care. Some small things other than that, your Highness, but nothing up your standards I'm afraid. This is a simple pub mostly for travelers and caravans; we don't have many amenities to cater for high nobility such as yourself.\"\n\n\"Nothing to fret about, good man.\" Berdann smiled benevolently. \"I'll take up your offer on the stables; please have someone take care of my horses. It's going to be a long trip to Parabel. We will defeat the evil Shadow Emperor, and restore the Calisian Kingdom to its former glory! And I can't have a shabby looking horse leading the Host now can I?\" Berdann laughed at himself. He then took a pipe from his own satchel, and started smoking. It's forbidden to smoke inside the premises but I didn't feel the least bit inclined to tell him off.\n\n\"I'll care for them myself, your Highness.\" I turned and left.\n\nOn the front of the pub, the four horses were tied to the post with the Smiling Tree sign; I untied them and carried them over to the stables. Maug the horsekeeper was fast asleep inside.\n\n\"Wake up, you mongrel!\" I shouted, and shook him up. He woke up in a hurry.\n\n\"Yes mr. Woodbranch!\"\n\n\"We have some very fine horses to care for today. Nobility horses. Clean them up and serve them the freshest grass and hay we have; after that you will brush their manes *with the utmost care.* These horses belong to the heir of old King Calis!\"\n\n\"Yessi- wait what? The 'heir of King Calis'? But isn't Princess Arenia dead?\"\n\n\"Yes, she is, been dead a long time now. But the man carries the regalia of the old King, so we're not taking chances. Get to work, old friend. I have some very upper-end guests to spoil.\"\n\n\"Will do, mr. Woodbranch.\" He replied, and turned to the horses. \"*Nobility horses? At this day and age? I'll be damned...*\" he muttered behind my back. I went outside, for a smoke of my own. I only now realized how nerve-wracking that short interaction with the Prince was!\n\nThere is an old rocking chair on the porch outside the stables; I took its seat and pulled my pipe from my pocket. As I was about to light it, a solitary crow landed on the arm of the rocking chair.\n\nIt looked at me, with its black beady eyes.\n\n\"Did you hear that, birdie?\" I spoke to it - or maybe *at* it. \"There's a man in the pub claiming to be a Calisian Prince! Says he's leading a Host to the Imperial Capital!\" The bird ruffled its feathers but did not reply. \"I wonder when the next patrol of the Imperial Guard is going to be. I wonder what the Guard would say if they were to see a man in white-and-gold armor in my pub! I hope there's no bloodshed inside my inn tonight.\" The bird suddenly turned around and took flight. I sighed, and smoked my pipe. Quickly - I was probably needed back inside.\n\n***Continues***\n",
"When I first met the Fearsome Foursome, I had to admit, I was impressed. Walker, with his gold six-guns. She-Tree, eight feet of terrifying beauty. Randolph the genius, half his skull repaired with glass after a terrible childhood accident. And Ix, the inkling, a terrifying beast from the Black Swamps with a taste for cherry whiskey. All I'm saying is they had their pick of whichever booth in the bar they wanted to sit in. \n\nA lot of people said it was foolish to open a bar on the edge of the Endless Forest. What about the trolls, they'd ask, a smart-alecky look in their eyes. What about the Walking Fungus? What about the blue-skinned witches, reputed to live deep in the tangled woods and to come out only to feast on the privates of lonely men? I said that they all sounded like thirsty folk. And so did the adventurers who came to do battle with them. So I set up the Thirsty Ground, paid a man to carve a sign with an appropriately gruesome dead body on it, blood leaking from its many wounds to soak into the earth, and stocked up on some of the more exotic liquors that the realm had to offer. \n\nThe Fearsome Foursome first came in my bar three years ago, having just formed up as a definitive group of adventurers. I could tell they were newly together right away, each of them still jockeying for position in the group, unsure of the depths of the others' talents and integrity. Walker bought the first round- an attempt, I thought, to impress upon the others that he was right to be leader, shepherd of them all. I didn't fancy his chances. It was always going to be Randolph. I could see it in the way that he turned Walker's gesture to his own favor, graciously thanking the gunslinger for the drink and then making an eloquent speech about the future of the group, their guaranteed success. Walker's round had turned into fuel for Randolph's toast. \n\nWhen they returned from their first foray into the Endless Forest, She-Tree toting a large chest of treasure and Ix bleeding poppy-orange blood from a wound to its thorax, I could see immediately that Randolph had solidified his hold as leader of the group. He must have done something incredible out there in the woods, even Walker seemed to have accepted him as the head of the pack without argument. Randolph ordered drinks for the whole bar, dark beasts and witches included, and stood upon a stool to make a toast once everyone had been served. \n\nThe candlelight glittered in the glass that made up half of his skull, and I thought that I could almost see the juices of his brain coursing underneath its pitted surface. He held a cup of wine aloft and cleared his throat. Everyone, even the chattery, crablike root-imps, fell silent. \n\n\"Fellows.\" He said, indicating his companions. \"Foes.\" He raised his glass towards the side of the bar where most of the dark creatures sat impassively. \"We've returned, my companions and I, from our invasion into your land, and we've brought treasure back with us, treasure we bought with blood.\" Ix shifted in its seat, the wound in its side now mostly coagulated. \"Although we paid a steep price for it, it seems our enemies paid more dearly. Let that be a reminder to you all, in case we meet again in less amicable circumstances.\" He gazed directly at the gathered dark folk, who had begun to shift and mutter in their seats. I began to grow nervous. \"But let me also say that you have our respect, and our acknowledgment of your dignity. Many's a man that lives in the paved-stone cities of the kingdom who thinks he is free, but he is not. Freedom lives in those woods-\" He pointed towards the open door, which framed a torchlit view of the edges of the forest. \"- a freedom that I can understand dying for. To darkness, and to light!\" \n\nThe creatures on the other side of the bar did not cheer his words, but they did not erupt from their seats to tear him and his companions to pieces, either. They drank their free drinks quietly, and returned to their conversations. It was, as I have said, fairly impressive. "
] | 9
|
[wp] You are broke, your car is junked, and you lost your job and Significant other. You are having the greatest day of your life and are so happy.
|
[
"From where I sit, things are pretty fuckin' good. I can't remember the last time I felt so free; it's like I'm floating when I used to crawl. Right now, there are no responsibilities. Nothing to bring me down. I can feel my blood rushing through my veins, filling my arms and legs with an incredible vitality. I feel so *alive*. Things are finally looking up. The sun is shining, beating on the wall behind me. It's hot, but not too hot. Know what I mean? It's perfect. Everything is perfect. \n\nSure, I lost my job. Another one will come along. It always does. I'm not worried about that. And yeah, she left me. She'll be happier with Trent anyways, I can't be mad at her for making that decision. Everyone is happy. Everything is working out. My car won't start, but hey. That's a roof over my head, and that's more than some people can say. Damn, I feel *good*. I couldn't have made a better choice with my last few dollars.\n\nI just wish I'd thought to buy a clean syringe.",
"\"Is this recording?\"\n\n...\n\n\"Hello everyone. This will be my last update before I go off the grid.\"\n\n\"I escaped from the main compound at about lunch time today. I don't think anyone noticed.\"\n\n\"I managed to destroy the tracking device in my car and unload the counterfeit money in its trunk. I also made sure that They wouldn't find any of my DNA on the seats.\"\n\n\"My handler tried to trace me with a phone call I but I was smarter. I disabled my cellphone so that They couldn't turn the camera or microphone on without me knowing.\"\n\n\"Loyal viewers will wonder why I still have my camera. Don't worry - I wrapped it in foil so that most of the radioactive decay will be contained. I'm more worried about my other recordings being damaged at this point, but I think they will survive until the camera is found.\" \n\n... \n\n\"I can see the outer wall up ahead. If I can distract the guards with a small explosion, I will be able to make it over and into the wilderness without being spotted. I can't believe I'm almost free.\" \n\n\"Whoever finds this camera, remember: They are more powerful than you think. I only hope you will be able to escape like I have. Good luck.\"\n\n",
"It may have taken all the money I had, but the divorce was finally over. Years and years of harassment and assault were now finally finished. Honestly, I don't know which cost more in the long run, the divorce or the therapist, but I didn't care by this point. I was in pure bliss knowing that the bitch I once called my wife was now completely out of my life, probably roaming around New York or LA, sucking some CEO's dick for a raise while screaming at her new boyfriend at the same time.\n\nI think the main reason it took so long for me to break it off was our business relationship. Liz wasn't just my wife, she was my boss too. She provided my salary. It took serious balls on my part to confront the head of our company and reveal everything that was going on. We both got laid off after that, but that was the least of my worries.\n\nThe best part of the whole day though (aside from my newfound freedom) is the car. This shitty Corolla has been through thick and thin with me. The last straw in our relationship, in fact, was the fact that Liz had crashed my care into a lamp post while drunk driving. It was then that I decided to start the divorce process. It was perfect timing that on my first day as a free man, I get a call from the mechanic that my old car, despite looking like something from a junkyard, is still in working order. It was like a small victory over Liz, even after she'd left.\n\nAs I walk down to the cafe to grab a paper and look for some job opportunities, I can't help but smile at the great life I lead.\n\n---\n\nTo see all of my writing, please visit /r/ZachWrites!"
] | 3
|
|
[WP] Alien invasion from the aliens perspective.
|
[
"The plan was simple. Have a show of power near the major cities of Earth and enslave the humans without any casualties. Now, how the hell did this happen? \nQuag-drak, general of the two hundred and fifth legion, stares out of his Interstellar Space Travel Vehicle, or ISTV, in disbelief. Down below, millions of humans lie dead. Along with burning rubble, the smell of death lingers in the air. Quag turns back around to Mag-thur, his most trusted captain, for an explanation. \n\"It...it was no use sir. The humans simply put up too much resistance.\" \n\"Too much resistance? Their primitive weaponry was nothing compared to our technology! Did they not even flinch after we presented to them our photon blasters?\" \nQuag points to a deep, burnt out crater in the earth. \n\"Were they not paralyzed by fear after that demonstration of power?\" \n\"The humans seemed to be more aggressive than we have previously thought sir. Our research division, after scanning one of their memories, has told me that humans are a warmongering race. They would even frequently launch attacks against each other, killing their own kin mercilessly.\" \nQuag presses his hand against his head and begins to massage his temples, trying to make sense of the situation. \n\"So you're telling me that the humans would have rather died fighting against us, than surrender peacefully without any death whatsoever?\" \n\"That is correct sir\" \n\"God dammit Mag. I'm too tired for this. Tell the higher ups that we're going to take Earth's resources and mark the humans as pests. I'm just going to go on to the next planet.\" \n\"On it, sir.\" \nAs Mag-thur relays the message back to home base, Quag-drak powers up the FTL, and readies himself to take over the next civilization. \n  \nNote: I'm not really good at writing stories like this. I hope it suffices :)"
] | 1
|
|
[WP] "What I'm about to show you is so top-secret that we had to invent a new security clearance level for it."
|
[
"Baffled, bowled over, mystified, confounded. There are not enough words in the English language to describe how I felt when I saw the video of a gleaming spaceship float lazily,like a ballon in the sky, and then slingshot at impossible speeds up, up, and away. President Simmons explained to me the situation. An alien envoy had come to earth looking for a fugitive that escaped their highest security prison. They had tracked him to earth. I was being assigned to the case on account of my sterling reputation as a US Marshall. \"Timothy \"Houdini\" Calhoun your mission is to find the fugitive before the Galactic Council. This is our coming out party. Make us proud.\"\n\"Will do.\"",
"Unaware that there had ever been security clearance levels at West Liberty Town Hall, Darryl followed Public Affairs Committee member Cindy Wilkie down the hall, sidestepping the broken Xerox Phaser that stood as a monument to summer recreation guides of years past. The 2002 edition had been a particular success, explaining the five different framed copies hung at various gathering points throughout the second floor office. As requested in an all-office memo, it was now considered good etiquette to not discuss the ultimate fate of child cover star Timmy Russo, here pictured recreating with the same town farm animals that would eventually conspire to relieve him of his left leg. \n\n\"Close the door behind you, I'll get the blinds,\" Cindy demanded as she walked towards the window that overlooked the parking lot and newly-installed single stream recycling bin. Darryl lightly pulled the door to Conference Room B shut. \"What year is it?\" she queried, looking into Darryl's eyes.\n\n\"2016?\"\n\n\"No, what *year* is it?\"\n\n\"I... don't see what you're getting at,\" Darryl replied, confused and wishing he had taken another bite of his bagel before agreeing to follow Cindy into the poorly-lit conference room and current storage space for the 96 Little League trophies that were not handed out due to a players strike. \n\n\"It's 2016.\"\n\n\"That's wha...\"\n\n\"...The forty-fifth anniversary of the first confirmed sighting of Old Joe.\" A veritable celebrity in the otherwise-nonexistent world of named animal residents of West Liberty, the surly snapping turtle had come to occupy the peculiar throne of both beloved curmudgeon and terrifying pond monster, prone to faking a picturesque sunbathing pose before ruthlessly charging a young family's picnic spread. Cindy gestured towards a bulging cloth-covered table, which Darryl had heretofore not noticed on account of the low lighting and the three other bulging cloth-covered tables within a few feet of it. \"You have to promise not to tell anyone,\" Cindy whispered.\n\nCindy yanked the cloth away in dramatic fashion, revealing the snarling mouth of Old Joe, jaws agape and eyes fixed forward as if a toddler's hot dog and/or index finger was within reach. \"AH WHAT THE!\" Darryl cried as he jumped backwards, pulling his hands behind him.\n\n\"Quiet! Calm down, it's just a statue,\" Cindy whisper-yelled, doing little to calm Darryl's pounding heart. She lightly tapped the life-sized replica of Old Joe with her hand, and Darryl winced as part of him still expected the bust to tear of the offending appendage with unbound reptilian disdain. \"I had it commissioned for this year's Opening Day Barbecue.\" \n\nThe annual Opening Day Barbecue marked the beginning of West Liberty's summer recreation season. It took place at Hodgkin's Pond, named after longtime Outdoor Recreation Manager Paul Hodgkin and *not* the deadly form of cancerous lymphoma, though he did eventually succumb to the disease. It was one of the most popular events on the schedule, along with the Fourth of July Fireworks and the Fifth of July Community Trash Cleanup. (Although the latter was mostly attended by transients who were more focused on collecting redeemable bottles than trash, despite the fact that many were offended that the event's name possibly referred to the homeless community in a disparaging manner.)\n\n\"That thing is terrifying,\" Darryl stated bluntly, still fixing his eyes on the bronze creature. Even from across the room, he seemed certain that the sculptor had sharpened fake Old Joe's claws to the point that insurance liability coverage would be impossible to neglect.\n\nCindy scoffed. \"Don't be such Contrary Cary,\" referring to local housewife and office in-joke Cary Matthews, who had gained her level of bureaucratic notoriety for campaigning against the town's ban on unleashed cats. \"Come on, I've got one more thing to show you, but I had to store it in the basement because it's so big. It's also the 20th anniversary of the Great Coyote Fire of '96.\"\n\n--\nContribute to the Re-Elect Cindy Wilkie Fund and read more stories at /r/highpothetically.\n",
"\"Commander Brannon, what I'm about to show you is the cumulation of decades of work. It is to top-secret that we had to invent a new clearance level for it and, so far, only four people outside of the development team have been afforded level 12 clearance: Myself, you, the Secretary General and Overseer Smith. You cannot tell anyone else anything about this. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Wallace...\" Kate began, unnerved by how cold he was being.\n\n\"Do you understand, Commander Brannon?\" He demanded, his suit crumpling slightly as he turned to face her, his face so much colder than it had been in the past and his eyes inscrutible behind a pair of black sun glasses.\n\n\"Yes, I understand, Mr. Jones,\" She nodded, knowing that it was easier to just go along with whatever Section 13. Without another word, Walace opened the chrome box sat upon the table and removed a glass cylinder that had a metal cap on both ends, one of which had a number pad and a digital countdown mounted above the pad and within the cylinder was a red crystal that had wires stretching from both ends to each end of the cylinder.\n\n\"Wallace...\" Kate gasped, \"is... is this what I think it is?\" She could barely believe what she was seeing. It was the KB-12.\n \"That depends on what you think it is, if you think it's the KB-12 you would be correct; if, however, you think it's a toaster then you would be wrong,\" Wallace remarked dryly.\n\n\"Do you know what that thing does?\" Kate demanded .\n\n\"Yes,\" he said as he placed the device back in the container and locked it, \"it purges all supernatural life forms within 100 miles of the activation site and given the increasing severity of recent supernatural events, Toronto for example, it was decided that the KB-12 should see production.\"\n\n\"Why...? How...? Who... who even gave section 13 approval to build that? I am responsible for the approval of all military technology R and D and I was *never* told anything about this,\" Kate looked at Wallace, her eyes burining into him and yet he still remained unphased.\n\n\"You were never asked to approve it because management elected to bypass the standard development approval process.\" he motioned to the door and Kate followed him, there was no sense in trying no to move. Once the door to the room was locked, Wallace continued, \"they decided to consult the secretary general in order to gain approval to construct the device.\"\n\n\"So a few incidents and now Section 13 can build WMD's?!\" Kate demanded with disgust.\n\n\"I would hardly say that, Cult uprisings, Demonic incursions and an attempt to sacrifice an entire city to a Pit Fiend can be refered to simply as \"incidents\", Commander Brannon and besides, it is not a weapon of mass destruction, it's a weapon of very targeted destruction.\"\n\n\"Yes, that has the very specific target of anything supernatural within 100 miles.\"\n\n\"Kate.\" She was taken aback, Wallace hadn't refered to her by her actual name since he'd started working for Section 13. \"Just because there are Witches, such as yourself, and other Supernaturals, that work for the UN it does not mean that we can be without a safety measure for the worst case scenario. Understand?\" It had been a long, long time since Kate had seen her once childhood friend display any emotion but his frustration at this discussion was begining to reveal itself.\n\n\"Section 13 was given aproval to build that device and deploy it should it ever become necessary. Do you understand, Commander? Or will I have to chalk this up to insubordination and attempted obstruction of Section 13 business?\" His once again calm composure made the threat even more prominant.\n\n\"No, I appologise, Mr. Jones,\" Kate answered meekly, she hated that she had to bow to the whims of Section 13 but she, and everyone else who knew of Section 13, knew that it was suicide to try and oppose them.\n\"Good,\" Wallace said flatly as he began to walk away, \"oh, one last thing,\" he paused half way through a stride, \"Overseer Smith wants to see you in his office one hour from now. Be there.\" Wallace walked off and Kate remained for a few moments, both angry at how much power Section 13 held that they could do as they like and saddened as she was once again reminded that Wallace was no longer who he had been only a few years before hand. \n\nAfter the moments had passed, Kate composed herself and pledged a silent vow to herself. She would find out exactly what it was that Section 13 did and that the world would know about Section 13.",
"The steel blast doors groaned in protest as heavy actuators pulled them apart, revealing a room as devoid of light as the void of space. \n\n\"Now, what I'm about to show you is so to-secret that we had to invent a new security clearance level for it.\"\n\nThe man reached into a pocket hidden within his formal jacket and pressed a button. With a series of heavy clunks, lights hanging far above in the vault's ceiling lit one row at a time, illuminating a chamber large enough to easily hold three aircraft carriers lined up end-to-end. Filling the hangar effortlessly was a vast, teardrop-shaped *something*. It looked as if it had been made of metal turned to liquid, a vast metallic pool contained within an invisible flask. At first, I thought it was being suspended from the ceiling, but suddenly I realized that it was somehow hovering in place under its own power. \n\n\"You mean to say that the leader of this entire country doesn't know what you have buried out here?\" I wondered, pushing my glasses back up my nose to get a better view. Suspicion, which had begun to grow in my stomach like a knotted root the moment that the armored car arrived in my driveway, suddenly blossomed into a rancid flower. \"Why show someone like *me* this place? Are you going to kill me?\"\n\n\n\nThe man just laughed. \"Oh, he has a good idea that we have *something*, but even he knows that we wouldn't keep secrets unless we absolutely had to. Papers detailing the object are in a sealed folder in his desk, right on top of the nuclear launch codes. He is under strict instructions not to break the seal except in case of emergency. Which...\" He lowered the dark sunglasses that he wore even in these tunnels far enough to fix me with a piercing gaze. \"is why we called you here today. Tell me, what do you think this object is?\" \n\nStill not convinced that I was out of the woods, I turned back to the shimmering substance. \"Well...if you called me here, I would have to guess it was some kind of alien craft.\"\n\n\n\"That is our assumption as well. Several decades ago, our men discovered a large deposit of metal underneath the Meteor Crater in Arizona using experimental sonar. We thought it was the Russians - back then, everything was about the damn Russians - but when we tunneled our way in, we found *this*. I doubt the Russians could even conceive of such a thing, eh?\" He let out a humorless laugh. \"Moving it was too hard, so construction began immediately to create a containment facility on-site. If you hadn't guessed, that's where we stand now.\"\n\nI grumbled at that, remembering the several-hour long car ride I had spent with a blindfold wrapped around my head. \"Yeah. And Area 51 is a decoy, I know.\"\n\n\"So you have known about this thing for decades, and you haven't come to get me until now?\" I continued, giving him a sidelong glance before flicking my gaze back up to the ship. \"What changed?\"\n\n\"I think it would be better to show you than tell you.\" Before I could stop him, the man reached out and stroked the hull of the craft with a single finger. From where he made contact, a vast ripple spread over the ship, like a wrinkle in the smooth metal surface. When it returned, it seemed to rush inward, and suddenly a gaping hole opened in the ship's hull. A ribbon of quicksilver that reminded me unnervingly of a tongue slipped out of the opening to rest at our feet. \n\n\n\"Follow me.\" The man said, and walked up the ramp with easy strides. After a moment, I followed him. \n\nThe inside of the ship was remarkably different from the exterior. Instead of silver, it seemed as if it had been made out of a rainbow of crystal. The walls, instead of the austere gray I expected, were covered in what looked like stained glass, lit from within by a mysterious light. Scenes like out of a fairy tale, with dragons, knights, and castles, were depicted on every surface. A carpet of transparent plastic clearly of human origin, protected the floor, where a giant serpent seemed to lead the way deeper into the ship with its kaleidoscope of crystal scales. \n\n\"Most of the technology in this craft we already have.\" My escort said, seemingly unimpressed by the view. \"The problem is, we simply don't have the raw power to make it run...and we have as of yet found no way of replicating their engine. And *that* is why we called you here today.\" \n\nAt his touch, a panel depicting a burning orb slid back to reveal a spherical chamber that seemed to glow with a fiery light. Tentatively, I followed him into the room. \n\nSoon, it became apparent what was causing the glow. The walls were covered from top to bottom with precious stones, arranged in a mosaic depicting flames so real that they seemed to dance before my eyes. A small gangplank-like platform stretched into the very center of the room, where it ended in a ring-like platform that surrounded an orb of light so bright that I had to avert my eyes. \n\n\n\"Here.\" Said my guide, offering a pair of the same dark shades that he wore. \"Now you know why I kept these on.\"\n\nTogether, we strode to the heart of the chamber - and, if my suspicions were correct, the heart of the ship itself. As we got closer, a loud humming filled our ears, seeming to emanate from the sphere itself. \n\n\"Once your eyes have adjusted a bit, look at the center of the light.\" Said my guide, peering at the orb with a pained expression on his face. To my surprise, I saw a small oblong shape the size of a tennis ball, almost invisible at the center of the sphere. As I watched, it shook slightly from left to right, rocking in a cradle made of light. \n\n\"What is it?\" I called, yelling to be heard over the din. \n\n\"We think it's one of their eggs.\" Yelled my guide. \"It has been stable for years, but recently something has changed.\" \n\n\"We think it's hatching.\"\n\n\n***\n\n*Well that was fun. CC appreciated, and if you enjoyed you can find more of my work over at /r/TimeSyncs!*",
"The world was dark.It felt meticulously maddening but that was nothing new to Ned.He was blind but nevermind.This was accepted by him long ago in a distant memory when he was touched by god.The room he was in felt cavernous and cold.He could hear the slight whirred of the air-conditioner and taste the metallic air of the sterile room.But there was something more,something hidden and subtle like a whisper of substances that procreates a sense of falling endlessly through an abyss.The flow of the world felt interrupted against it.Warped it into something of its own.\n\n\nHe tried feeling for it but was lost like trying to grip shadows and letting water flows uninterrupted through his closed fist.Even in doing this he felt terrified and unclean as if he had disturbed an evil...no,not evil.It felt like nature,it felt grey and unstoppable.It felt as if he had intrude in a holy sanctity that worships the wind and sunlight and all those that it encompasses.\n\n\nThe man that had spoken earlier was gone leaving a slimmer of his presence behind.He has been touch.This revelation came like lightning and turmoils in his hollow stomach.The man's essence was tainted by \"it\",forever changed.Yet,Ned does not regret this change had happen to the man.He had spoken with thunderous voice that carried a commanding tone like an ancient god whose name had been forgotten.This too,Ned had felt, been touched by \"it\".The words that were carried by the thunder was this :\"What I'm about to show you is so top secret that we had to invent a new security clearance level for it!\".He had left soon afterward.\n\n\nHe was riding home on the subway when he was taken.The compartments of the trains had always felt like decadent and trivialities to him.Rot that was not visible had sullied the train,like an open arm of beggar and rat kings that reigned supreme.But today it was different somehow.The aura had warped and bend to a new presence.A team of armed and suited mens had rushed the train during the first stop.He could smell the oil and gunpowder of the gun and heard the ruffle of the shirts.One of the mens had grip his right bicep with an iron grip and proceeded to cart him off the train and haul him to a foreign room that had taste of metal and touched by something old.He had protest but that too was trivial.And here we are.\n\n \nWhile he was revisiting these events,he felt gently nudged at first but was rocked stupidly by something.His mind,so sharp so as to be able to cut other untrained hearts and minds is now babbling incoherently in the foreground and background.This wall of noises was superceded by...\"it\".The man was back and he had carried a new wonder with him.He had brought back a sense to Ned.Through the tears that he felt wetting his eyes and cheeks,he found light that blind him.This ball of light that awaits him was wispy and flowing continously in an unrecognised patterns that was beautiful in its abstract and chaotic nature.He reached out to it like a man dying of thirst reaching for something far beyond him.To his amazement he touched the light.It was solid but not to his hand that lay solemnly at his side now but it in his mind.The wall of noise had vanished and replaced by something wondrous.To his suprise,he was calm in glimpsing all of eternities:the past and the future intermingling in his mind.And he know he was chosen,not today but the since the beginning of time.\n\n\nDo you see?,the man and \"it\"has asked.\n\n\nYes,we had answered.\n\n\nThen let there be light.\n\n\nEdit:a sentence.",
"Mary struggled to stand on shaking legs, pushing the hair out of her face and doing her solid best to stand at attention.\n\n\"At ease, soldier.\" The man in the black suit told her simply and she shifted positions even as he shook his head. \"You can sit.\" He corrected her.\n\nIt was with relief that Mary sank back into her hospital bed, self-conscious of the mint-green gown draped over her aching body. She had been in the hospital for two days now, and her muscles were still weak but she refused to let that keep her from showing respect as fit her rank.\n\n\"I was hoping you could answer some questions for me.\" The man asked, and she nodded.\n\n\"Of course.\" Neither of them quite smiled, but it was hard to tell what the man was thinking through his dark sunglasses. She could see herself, tired, reflected in the lenses if she tried.\n\n\"Your husband, where did the two of you meet?\" There was something testing in the tone, and Mary was left with the distinct impression he already knew.\n\n\"New Mexico, sir.\" She hoped that he wouldn't take the fatigue in her voice as a tone of disrespect. \"Five years ago. I was stationed on a guard detail there and he was working in a nearby diner.\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\" The man asked, the fingers of his right hand just barely grazing the watch on his other wrist. The room fell silent enough that she could hear her own heartbeat.\n\nShe was certain, of course, but at the same time she suddenly wasn't. She could remember seeing him there, clear as day with a smile and milkshake 'on the house'. There was the way she had finally propositioned him one day, her nose sunburnt, and he had accepted anyway.\n\nWhy, she wondered, would he imply it had been any other way?\n\n\"Sir, yes, sir.\" Mary finally tells him, her voice firm and she thinks that she can see him smile.\n\n\"You are less susceptible than I thought. Commander Clarke? What I'm about to show you is so top-secret that we had to invent a new security clearance level for it.\"\n\n\"Is this related to Abe?\" Mary asked her tone almost defensive. Her husband was, she had to admit, the gentlest man that she had ever met. Prone to sickness, but always able to smile for her.\n\nHe had gone missing, three months into her pregnancy. She still had yet to hear from him, and there was a solid pit of fear in her chest that she wouldn't.\n\n\"Yes. We believe your husband may be an illegal alien. However there is more to this than that.\" A nurse comes to the door of the room with a wheelchair, the conversation not causing even a moment's hesitation as she parked it at the side of Mary's bed. \n\n\"I can walk.\" Mary told him, her voice growing icy. She prickled at his accusation that the man she loved, that the man she may have lost had been lying to her. This was all too much right now, on a day where she was already worn thin. Where he should have been there.\n\n\"Safety, Ma'am.\" The nurse tells her simply. \"Liability if not that.\"\n\nShe opened her mouth to speak, increasingly frustrated and the man in black held up a solitary finger. \"Commander Clarke - Mary. Trust me; you'll want to be sitting for this. It isn't your husband that I'm taking you to see.\"\n\nIt takes more effort than Mary thought she had left in her to relent, realization striking her as to where they were likely going.\n\n\"When will I get to see my son?\" Mary asked the nurse who looked at her like a deer in the headlights. \"He was born at 0900; it's been over three hours.\"\n\n\"Or-\" Mary started again when the nurse edged away and the man in the black suit started to smile again. \"Is he what you're intending to show me.\"\n\n\"Please.\" the man told her simply, gesturing to the chair. She forced down the panic rising inside of her gut. If something had happened to him, if there was something wrong, she would lose her last connection to Abe. She would lose the only family that she had.\n\nMary surprises herself with her stoicism as she moves from the bed to the chair, and the nurse leaves. It is the man who takes the chair's handles and steers her half-dressed from her room.",
"\"Pilot Forrestal,\" a man clad in a navy-blue suit stood before you, hand outstretched. \"I'm Ed Bennington. In charge of Technical Operations here.\"\n\nYou shake his hand. \"Glad to finally meet you.\"\n\nBennington is definitely, probably in his late 40s. His black- no, *dark brown* hair is combed back, green-gray eyes set in tired sockets, but with a genuine smile on his face. \"Didn't have any trouble with Section 2, did you?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" you chuckle, hands raised. \"No trouble with security.\" That's a half-lie. You *did* have to go through several authorization points, passing through bulkhead after bulkhead. Then again, that's every day.\n\n\"Glad to hear it.\" He patted you on the shoulder. \"Hear your father works with the UN. That true?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" you admit, rolling your eyes. \"Talks about this place often.\"\n\nThe two of you stop in front of a massive bulkhead door, the familiar half-fig leaf and upside-down apple logo emblazoned onto the triple-thick steel plates in red paint. Bennington fumbles through his jacket, handing you a card. You look up at him, confusedly.\n\n\"Mr. Bennington,\" you look up at him. \"What's this for? I already have one.\" You rifle through your own pockets and retrieve your own card. He chuckles.\n\n\"Avery,\" he says, crouching down a bit to be at eye level with you. \"Do you know how many clearance levels we have?\"\n\n\"Easy. Seventeen.\" You smile as you give him the answer.\n\n\"Eighteen now.\" Bennington smiles, patting you on the shoulder as he swipes his own card. The bulkhead doors shudder as they slowly open.\n\nYou step out onto the catwalk. Before you, in a sea of red-orange fluid, are two titans of human engineering. The one to the left is clad in black armor, with red and white detailing. The menacing glare of its presumed cockpit strikes fear into you, as it probably did into the hearts of those that defeated it. To the right is one with three eyes, sea green armor with dark red and golden detailing. You simply *gawk* at the scale of these...these...\n\n\"This is what you've been learning to pilot, Forrestal.\"\n\nYou look up. It's Bennington again. He's smiling, proudly at the two humanoid figures.\n\n\"These are the pinnacles of our species' achievement. Evangelions.\"",
"\"Mr Smith, the United Nations *unanimously agreed* to protect the world from what you are about to see. It has since been elevated to SF-Top Secret. We had to promote you just to tell you the rank existed.\"\n\n\nYou groggily shake your head, your arms binding against the think zip-ties holding you down, your eyes blinded by the cover over your head. You yell into the darkness \"Who are you? Why do you want me? I'm just a regular civil-service employee!\"\n\nThe hood was whipped off of you, revealing a vast sprawling networks of tunnels, all connecting to *where your chair was seated*.\n\n\"In 1952, a piece of research was created by the Germans, and given to the United States unanimously. It was the idea of faster-than-light travel. They gave us the math, we did the work. The first shuttle tests were just that, tests of slower-than-light travel. However, they also served as our first faster than light vehicles.\"\n\n\"*Why are you telling me this!? It has nothing to do with me!*\"\n\n\"Quite the contrary Mr. Smith, you're just the candidate we needed. Your exceptional leadership roles, how much you value your close friends, you-\"\n\n\"*You were SPYING on me?*\"\n\n\"With all due respect,\" he began, a slight smile on his face, \" that's what we ask the NSA to do. We don't do it personally.\"\n\n\"Fine. What do you want me to do, fly a ship into space and kill myself?\"\n\nUtterly disgusted, he shook his head,walking around and began to push the chair towards the largest tunnel.\n\n\"Quite the contrary, Mr. Smith. We expect you to _head_ it.\" He took a knife from his boot out and cut the ties on your wrists, suddenly sore from the bloodflow.\n\nBefore you lay a vast cavern, filled with Sci-Fi looking ships, their hulls emblazoned with the phrase \"NCC\".\n\n\"Welcome to Starfleet Mr. Smith.\"\n",
"It began with a simple question. \n\n\"Do you know why you're here?\"\n\nI placed the mug on his table. \"Vaguely.\"\n\n\"You've been promoted. Congratulations.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"You seem thrilled.\"\n\n\"May I ask why? It's just...\"\n\n\"Out of the blue?\"\n\nI scratched the back of my head. \"Yeah.\"\n\nThe man in the navy blue suit grinned, but even I could tell it was forced. \"You will be replacing Senior Head Researcher Edward Weiss. You will be given *Level Five* clearance for all files and unrestricted access to the labs and testing grounds and particle colliders. All five hundred staff members are yours. You will discontinue all previous projects and start fresh. You may appoint someone as your successor, if you so wish. And...of course...there will be a *substantial* pay increase.\"\n\nFor some reason I felt nothing. Only numbness and a tinge of confusion. \"What happened to Weiss? He's one of the best around here. Been with us for years.\"\n\n\"Not years. Decades.\"\n\n\"So why am I getting his spot?\"\n\n\"You seem to be missing the point. No, this isn't an offer, Doctor Kent...this is an executive order. A direct command from the Council. You will accept this promotion, and you will be happy about it. You will drive home to your family with a smile on your face. Do you hear me?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Disobeying a direct Council command will result in expulsion or *termination*.\"\n\n\"I accept the offer...sir. Thank you.\"\n\n\"Good.\" He ran his scrawny fingers through his cabinet and retrieved a folder. The strange thing was that the cover was blank. \"Very good.\"\n\n\"With respect, you still didn't answer my question. What happened to Edward?\"\n\nHe slid me the file down the slick mahogany surface. \"You should read this. Only seven people in the entire world know about this.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked. \n\n\"A secret.\"\n\nIn a place like this, that could mean anything. Portals? The existence of God? Blood rites? \"What kind of secret?\"\n\nThe man snorted. \"The kind that forced us to create another layer of security clearance for it.\" \n\nIt was a briefing on some sort of mechanical device that had taken decades to construct. Thousands of scientists involved, including some prominent world leaders. I read slowly, at first, a word at a time. \n\nThen it set in. \n\n*The truth.* \n\nI denied it. I denied everything the document said, despite all of the evidence, the people involved, eyewitness testimonies and photos of the event. \n\nMost of all...I denied the truth because it was *fucking* impossible.\n\n\"You understand what we're dealing with, Doctor Kent? The...gravity of our situation?\"\n\nI slammed the papers down. \"Is this a sick joke? What is this?\"\n\n\"No. No, it is not a joke. We are a humorless bunch, mind you.\"\n\n\"How many times? *How many times did we use it?\"*\n\n\"...Three.\"\n\nMy arms stiffen. \n\n*Three.* \n\nThree times we chose to reset. Three times we failed to save ourselves.\n\nI can barely hold it together. \"What happened to the last timeline we were in?\"\n\n\"Nuclear fallout. Heavy containment breach. Code Reds.\"\n\n\"Jesus...\"\n\n\"I suppose you need a moment-\"\n\n\"Wait.\"\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"If we all...if we all died in Universe 89-B...then how are we still alive right now?\"\n\nThe man's eyes narrowed into slits. \"*Don't assume you're the same person.*\"\n\nAnd with that statement, he left.\n\n\"What do you expect me to do?\" I shouted. \n\nThe man paused. \"Learn. Improve. Study. Test. Experiment. Record. Discuss. Whatever you need to do.\"\n\n\"You want me to fix this device?\"\n\n\"No. The device is destroyed. *Beyond repair*, were Weiss' words. No, I expect you to make sure we won't have to resort to something like that device again. Do you understand? Because we're stuck here. Whether we like it or not. Are we clear?\"\n\nI merely nod.\n\n\"Good. See you tomorrow at nine. Don't be late.\"\n\n\n...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
] | 9
|
|
[WP] Two narrators are becoming increasingly irritated with what the other adds to the story they are telling.
|
[
"**Finding a more normal day would be difficult. The weather presented a rather pleasant palette of mild with a dash of wispy cloud-**\n\n*Look, I'm not sure if that makes sense.*\n\n**The ground rumbled, as though metaphysical fists slammed down on it.**\n\n*Come on, don't be like that. I just mean, well, I know what you tried to do, but I don't know if 'palette' is right. Oh, wait, did you mean a painting metaphor? Sorry, I thought you were going for food, because of the 'mild'. Well, ignore me, carry on.*\n\n**But the rumblings had become normal as of late. No one truly knew, though the scientists often had their hypothesises.**\n\n*Hypotheses.*\n\n**Of course, some scientists still clung to the outdated method of pluralisation. They were, due to the cut-throat nature of the business, put out of work and died on the streets, little more than a stain on the normality.**\n\n*Easy now, I'm just trying to be helpful.*\n\n**Dawn rolled on, accompanied by its chorus.**\n\n*Could we speed up a bit? I bet they're getting bored.*\n\n**And the whole damn world ended in a burst of flames.**\n\n*Well, I guess if you want to be like that.*\n\n**It was a happy ending for everyone concerned.**\n\n*I'll just go then.*\n\n**The End.**",
"A long time ago…\n\n*Oh my starting with something so cliché*\n\n…in a land far away.\n\n*be more intresting. In a land far far away.*\n\nHow far is far far. Far far makes it sound like a different planet.\n\n*So a long time ago on a planet far far away.*\n\nIf we are doing doubles we may as well make it A long long time ago on a planet far far away there was a boy.\n\n*Theres too much male dominance in stories these days. A long long time ago on a planet far far away there was a girl in her teens.*\n\nA long long time ago on a planet far far away there was a moody teenage girl.\n\n*If this is a different planet in the past then how was there a girl there.*\n\nYou were the one that wanted the teenage girl far far away. Lets wrap that story up with that’s another story.\n\n*So a long long time ago on a planet far far away there was a moody teenage girl. How she got there is another story but this moody teenage girl on this day woke up.*\n\nMy god of course she woke up. Can’t we have her already awake. \n\n*I’m sorry. Who’s telling the story?*\n\nI think you’ll find I started. So a long long time ago on a planet far far away there was a moody teenage girl playing in the mud.\n\n*Why is she playing in the mud. Girls don’t play in the mud.*\n\nYou wanted her to be a girl. This teenage girl was poking the mud in the stick.\n\n*Ooh. Ooh. I know. The girl wrote the name Jared in the mud then repetitively crossed it out and stamped it out.*\n\nWhos Jared. \n\n*Jared was the stupid boy who broke this fair maiden heart.*\n\nThis fair maiden. She’s a moody teen. She doesn’t even have a name but Jared does. Emma looked up from the mud she stood in. \n\n*Really. Emma. One of the most popular female names. Can’t you be more original? I think she seems more like an Emi.*\n\nEmi liked to be called by her middle name. Emma.\n\n*Emi looked up from the defaced name of the boy that she once loved. Tears of rage pouring down her face.*\n\nShe looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful day. She shook her head. Dried her eyes and rid all thoughts of Jared.\n\n*But wait from over the hill rode a boy atop a brilliant white stallion.*\n\nStallion? There on another planet and this boy is riding a horse.\n\n*It’s set in the past.*\n\nThey had to get to the planet somehow.\n\n*Fine. The boy rode over the top of a hill on his hover board. Riding down to the lone girl crying in the mud.*\n\nShe’d stopped crying already. \n\n*Riding down the hill to the lonely girl her eyes of solitude becoming him.*\n\nThe sun was in her eyes and she couldn’t see properly, this combined with the wetted eyes that were no longer crying led in the boy through his own misunderstanding. \n\n*The boy leapt off of the hoverboard into the mud. Offering his had to help her up.*\n\nShe had already stood up.\n\n*The boy leapt off the hoverboard to Emi’s aid.*\n\nBut wait. Its Jared. She hadn’t noticed before now due to the sun in her eyes. \n\n*”Oh my beautiful Emi. Would you find it in your heart to forgive me? I was foolish and for that I am so terribly sorry.”*\n\n“My name’s Emma.” Emma takes out her laser shotgun and shoots Jared to oblivion.\n\n*It missed.*\n\nIt missed?\n\n*Laser shotguns are notorious for their wildly inaccurate fire.*\n\nIt’s a laser shotgun. \n\n*It’s the past. Any laser shotgun would have to have a reason as to why its no longer used.*\n\nFine. The laser shotgun missed but due to the large energy surge near it the hover board exploded in flame. \n\n*Having already stepped off the hover board however Jared was unharmed. “Oh my sweet Emi. Whatever did my hover board do to you?”*\n\n“You loved that thing more than you did me. You can’t even get my name right.”\n\n*”But my sweet Emi. I was to use it to run away from this world. So we could finally be alone. Together forever.”*\n\n“You were planning on doing what with my sweet Emma.”\n\n*“Mr Emi’s dad sir. Wherever did you come from? I could have sworn that your daughter was alone only seconds ago.”*\n\n“A father is never too far away with creeps like you hanging around the planet. Do you not remember my name boy?”\n\n*”Sorry Wilson.”*\n\n“It’s Jack.” Jack then impaled Jared on the end of a spear. “Humph. You can’t beat the classics when it comes to killing Emma hand up your laser shotgun and take one of these.”\n\n*”You killed him!” Emi took her laser shotgun and pushing the mussle against her father fired.*\n\nYou forgot to reload.\n\n*What weapon has one shot per energy cell?*\n\nThe laser shotgun was notorious for its bad energy efficiency. \n\n*Jared groaned. Taking his flintlock pistol fired it into Jack’s head.*\n\nJared’s alive?\n\n*Jared coughed. “Not even death will overcome the bonds of our love Emi.”*\n\n“It’s Emma.” Emma picked up her fathers spear and ran Jared through being sure to bisect him to make doubly sure he was dead.\n\n*From over the hill come an army of Jared clones all professing their undying love to Emi.*\n\nEnraged Emma picked up the spear and proceeded to carve her way through the army. Armed with only their love Jared was defenceless against the rage of Emma. \n\n*Eventually the clone army overwhelmed Emi with love, hugs and kisses. Pulling her to the ground separating her from her weapon.*\n\nWhere they all drowned in the blood of innumerable Jareds.\n\n*And the moral of this story...*\n\nHell hath no fury like a woman scorned\n\n*I was going to say love overcomes all.*\n\nThat’s not what Romeo and Juliet is about.\n\n*Wait was this story meant to be Romeo and Juliet.*\n\nOriginally.\n\n*Isn’t the moral of Romeo and Juliet to be rational and not impulsive.*\n\nI’m just the narrator. Not an English student. \n\n*The other thing to take away from this is that laser shotguns don’t work.*\n\nGet a spear instead. \n\n*The end.*\n\nStay tuned for part 2.\n\n*There’s a part 2. Everyone’s dead.*\n\nWell if you’re aloud to clone Jared then I am going to clone Emma and turn it into the story of Frankenstein’s monster. \n\n**Writers note I don’t intend to write part 2.**\n\nWho are you?\n\n*The Writer?*\n\nCan he over power us.\n\n*I think so.*\n\n**The…**\n\nWait\n\n*Stop*\n\n**…End.**"
] | 2
|
|
[WP] We were never "alone" We were just the last civilization to develop. We start seeing signs of life but no life, Leading us to believe all other civilizations died off thousands of years ago.
|
[
"The administrator NASA was an hour into a critical meeting when there was a gentle knock on the door. The room lapsed into silence stunned. Whatever was on the other side of that door, it was nothing good. Ever since the initiation of the Final Eden missions your spouse could have died and they would still wait until these meetings were over to tell you. A nano researcher stood to get the door but Isane Abe gestured him back down. If something was serious enough to warrant interrupting this meeting, then the least she could do as the head was answer the door herself. Feeling empty she slowly pulled the door open and came face with a researcher so new she would not have known he worked here save the name tag pinned to his jacket. Wordlessly she waved him in and with a nervous little bob the young man rushed by only to freeze in fear upon entering the meeting room. She furrowed her eyebrows at the pale senior researcher escorting him before turning to his frozen form.\n\n\"Good evening Mr...\" Isane stared, taking care not to spook him. The sound of her voice started him life and he jumped, spinning around to face her.\n\n\"Velasquez. Marcus Velasquez. But please call me Marcus, Mr. Velasquez is my father. And I guess my grandfather, but-\"\n\n\"Marcus,\" Isane broke in \"I'm sure you know this is a very important meeting. But if Mr. Ash here, felt the need to bring you here now then you must have something even more important to share with us. May we all hear what that is?\" Marcus rapidly shuffled the papers in his hands and stared over her shoulder at Ash for a moment before speaking.\n\n\"Yes yes of course, my apologies. The carbon dating of the most recent known civilization of every lost world's has been completed.\" he took a long deep breath before continuing. \"My team and I believe we have found a pattern present on over 80% of them.\" At these words the rest of the room began to murmur softly but Marcus ignored them and continued on. \"We found that there was specific time frame within which a world was destroyed relative to a particular point in space.\" As he spoke her handed Isane a paper with pertinent notes on it with with shaking hands \"With the assumption that life destroying force originates from this Point A in the IC 1613 galaxy at particular intervals traveling at 2.5 times of the speed of light if you account for transit time there..\" he voice faltered for a moment but a cough from a chair member spurred him on \"and back, you get a predictable schedule of destruction that the carbon dating for the last known civilization on each planet follows almost exactly.\" Isane paged through the papers in her hands and skimmed them over with a frown as he department heads began to speak.\n\n\"Particular intervals? That's a little vague\" an astrophysicist called out \"Does your team have any information on what could dictate the interval?\" Marcus turned to face him and nodded furiously.\n\n\"In a manner of speaking yes. You see the interval depends on where the last destroyed civilization happened. If the last dead civilization is x distance from Point A, then the next will fall in the time it takes to travel from the last planet back to Point A plus then the time it takes to go to the next planet with a margin of error of approximately 500 years.\" The astrophysicist looked at him with narrowed eyes while deputy administrator spoke up. \n\n\"The way you describe this implies that you believe this life destroying force is... organic in nature.\" He cut a look at a chemist present before reworking his words \"Sentient rather.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Marcus drew himself up tall but it couldn't keep the traces of fear on his face from becoming evident. \"My team believes there is reason to suspect that an as of yet unknown super civilization has been preying on the Local Group for eons.\" At this the whole room exploded into activity. The meeting members stormed the front of the room mobbing Marcus and Ash with fearful questions and accusations. The voices grew louder and louder, but Isane hardly noticed as she read the final page of the notes she had been given. After checking a few pages over again she finally noticed the chaos and took a moment to quiet the room. Literally backed against the wall, Marcus and Ash gazed at her gratefully for calming the small crowd.\n\n\"Isane you should have these fools fired for wasting our time!\" A voice snapped \"This is lunacy!\" Isane ignored her and gave her full attention to the two exhausted men before her.\n\n\"The manner of destruction was the same everywhere?\" She asked, gesturing at the notes.\n\n\"Yes,\" Ash finally spoke with a sigh \"We shared our information with archeologists all over the world with the intention of learning about the civilizations themselves. Instead they discovered that each planet was ripped apart in a ritualistic manner, like a particular form of warfare had been implemented each time to great affect. They could see it in the lay of the ruins, in the way the land was scored and burned. It was consistent.\" Isane just couldn't believe this. But the notes... If the dirty condensed version of their research was this convincing what did their main data look like? Still, she couldn't help herself.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" She asked helplessly.\n\n\"Mrs. Abe\" Marcus held her eyes with a steady gaze \"do you think we would be here if we were not?\" She took a shuddering breath before asking a question she had been dreading to ask.\n\n\"According to your data, where would you say the next... event could occur?\" Ash looked down at his shoes and wrung his hands.\n\n\"With the assumption that the most recently broken world is indeed the last one that was hit, with the assumption that after returning to Point A Earth was next... We could be hit any time between 50 years ago and 300 years from now.\"\n\n--------------------------------------\n\nPlease forgive but feel free to point any grammar errors! I have a terrible habit of writing on my phone when I should be sleeping."
] | 1
|
|
[WP] The heroes arrive too late, but the villain's plan wasn't nearly as evil as they expected.
|
[
"THE ANNIVERSARY OF ADVERSARIES \r\n\n\nThe room had a foul stench that even Batman could not ignore. He had come to police headquarters on Commissioner Gordon’s request. The call had been quickly disconnected, however three words stood out. Trouble, help and Joker. It had been a few months since the Joker had shown his ugly mug in Gotham, so it was anyone’s guess as to his plans.\r\n\r\nBatman suddenly found himself holding back his breakfast. Whatever the smell was it was getting stronger.\r\n\r\n“Is everything alright, Bruce. Your vitals just had a spike.” A man’s voice came through clearly from the earpiece under his mask.”\r\n\r\n“I’m fine, Alfred. Things just smell a little,” Batman paused as he looked through the jail cells of Gotham PD. “A little fishy, here. This place is a ghost town. What ever the Joker is up to is not good. I really don’t want to know the body count.” \r\n\r\nHaving chosen to take the back entrance, the aging detective moved quietly. Jim Gordon had called him from his office. He surmised that, that room was were the Joker was waiting, but would not give that lunatic the satisfaction of the upper hand. \r\n\r\nThe closer he got to the main room the stronger the scent of fishes became. And now, for whatever reason he was beginning to hear carnival music. “Alfred, give Nightwing a call. I may need his help after all.” Batman approached the large metal doors at the end of the hall, and pushed them open as quietly as he could. \r\n\r\nHe nearly collapsed from smell of rotting fish. He came across the first officer. Though there would be many more, this one was the precedent for the rest. His vital signs were fine. He wasn’t dead, however he was fast a sleep, but why?\r\n\r\nWhen he reached Gordon’s office the lights switched on. The old commissioner was tied to a chair, and the Joker was sprawled on the desk like a cover of a dirty magazine. He took one look at Batman and his evil grin got ever wider. “Well, hello, Battsy. Glad you could make it to the party. He hopped off the desk like a weightless bird and straightened his purple jacket. “I was almost certain you weren't going to come.”\r\n\r\n“Enough of this crap, Joker! What are you doing?”\r\n\r\nThe Joker’s shoulders slumped and he looked down to the ground. “What, you’re not even going to guess? Even after all this planning I've done?”\r\n\r\n“Step away from the Commissioner, Joker. You haven’t killed anyone yet. Lets not blemish that record.” Batman took a step forward, putting one hand to his belt to ready a batterange.\r\n\r\n“Well then, if you're not going to guess I’m just going to tell you.”\r\n\r\n“I'm not in the mood, Joker. I’ll count to…”\r\n\r\n“It all started so many years ago,” said the Joker, gleefully interrupting the Batman. “You and I much younger. Far less wiser.” He hopped behind the commissioner’s desk and wrapped his hands around Gordon’s cheeks. “ And this man. Still with some brown in his hair.”\r\n\r\n The Joker pushed the Commissioner to the side and leaned over the desk. He looked at Batman through the curls of his green hair. “To the day, Batman, or have you forgotten, that YOU created all those years ago. Its our anniversary, and this is my present.” The Joker began to laugh hysterically, then banged down on the table as if approving his own laughter. “A bunch of cops sleeping with the fishes.” \r\n\r\nWhen Batman didn’t laugh, the Joker pulled out a small ball from his jacket pocket. “Geez, Bats. One of these days I’ll get you to laugh at my comedy gold.” \r\n\r\nAs the Joker said his last line the small ball was released from his fingers. It let out a thick smoke that burned Batman’s nostrils and blinded his eyes. The Joker continued to talk as he ran away, his voice slowly trailing off. “It's going to be a hell of a year Batman! Gotham’s pathetic police have gotten weak in my absence!”\r\n\r\nAfter the smoke cleared the room Batman ran over to commissioner Gordon and untied him. The two men looked at one another, both realizing what it meant to have the Joker back in town. It was only a matter of time before the Joker’s antics grew violent and that would undoubtedly bring out the other nuts of Gotham, where ever they were hiding.\r\n\r\n\r\n\n--writin quickly and not really sure about peoples stances on using preexisting characters since im sure it would be better severed under fanfic (this prompt just kinda spoke Batman to me)\n\r\n",
"I wouldn't say I'm evil, rather I just have a flair for the dramatic. It just so happens that evil things can look really cool with a big budget and tend to show up on national tv. This inclination led me to devise my plan to retrofit a t-shirt cannon to fire small animals. No one suspected the local business sponsor with a box full of t-shirts to be anything less than innocent. Little did they know that beneath the surface layer of t-shirts, that box contained a cage full of small critters ready to fired into the unsuspecting crowd.\n\nAfter patiently waiting till the seventh inning stretch, it was my time to shine. I packed the first kitten into the cannon. A beaming eight year old girl stood with her arms outstretched in the thirteenth row. She didn't notice the white, fluffy, cylindrical projectile heading her way wasn't made of cotton until it was too late. \n\nI reloaded the cannon, packing in the second kitten as fast as I could. Scouring the crowd, I found my next target. Whoosh! As the cannon fired again, people slowly started realizing what was happening. Cries of “Can I keep him?” were starting to ring out. Parents' anxiety was quickly increasing. Stadium security had finally caught onto my act, but they were too late. I'd cased the stadium all season long and positioned myself as far away from security as possible. Moving into rapid fire mode, I released as many kittens into the unsuspecting crowd as I could. \n\nFinally, security reached me and I was tackled to the ground. They dragged me off to the local police station and threw me in jail. After awhile, they afforded me my one phone call. I dialed my accomplice's number. He informed me my plan was a success. I'm trending.",
"Lord Marius burst into the dark throne room sword drawn. \"Maledictus, stop your wickedness at once! I cannot allow you to destroy Avandale!\" he decried, preparing for combat. The figure in the black robes turned, grinning madly. \"You are too late, false knight. The blood moon is at hand, and the sacrifice is ready.\" He snapped his fingers, and a steel cage materialised around the knight. \n\n\"Soon, her blood will spill and there will be peace such as never been seen for a thousand thousand years.\" he continued, drawing the dagger from it silver sheath.\n\n\"What do you know of peace?!\" MArius spat, banging furiously at the bars. \"You have killed hundreds in this war.\"\n\n\"Bah! A hundred men is a mere tragedy. Your 'good king' Johannes kills more than that in his dungeons every day. Thousands die as the bread is stolen from their mouths in taxes, and millions die in his pointless wars on the East. No, it is not I who does not know of peace. When the ritual is done, and his kin sacrificed... there will be peace.\" came the harsh reply. The dark lord turned from his captive to the sleeping princess.\n\n\"Blood of mine,\nBlood from his tree,\n'Neath the blood moon\nTO banish thee!\n\nBlood for pain,\nBlood for Strife\nBlood to take\nAway his Life.\n\nBlood of mine,\nBlood of She\nUnder this moon.\nSo let it be.\"\n\nAnd with a flourish, he slit her throat, and plunged the dagger into his own heart.",
"It was 5 minutes after midnight when the heroes kicked down the door to the villains lair, weapons at the ready and pointed at my throat, as usual. The bickering was unexpected, though. \n\"He's not shuffling around and do you see his grin? We're late!\", complained Larian, the elven warrior woman that had foiled many of my plans. \"All because you had to stop at that tavern, Myriel-forsaken bar stool!\" \n\"Oh now it's my fault? You know that I can't work my mojo without beer and you 'accidentally' forgot my keg, you thrice damned, tree-hugging bitch!\" Thorak hollered in return. \nSteven, the third member of the party put his hand on the dwarfs shoulder and tried to reason with him: \"Come on, Thorak, it was nobodies fault that your keg got left behind in that spider cave. And we can still stop his evil plans Larian, we always do\", he said as he turned to the warrior woman.\n\n\"Sadly, I have to correct you there, my dear Steven. The gears have been set into motion and there is nothing left for you to do except to suffer my gloating. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!\" Good old, evil laughter burst from my chest as I watched their expressions shift to horror. The heroes? To late to save the day from my evil schemes? What would the bards say? When I finally stopped laughing, I continued with my monologue: \n\"The sacrifice has been made the...\" \n\"What sacrifice? There is no blood and no virgin body anywhere!\", Steven interrupted. \n\"See that empty table there? It had a feast suitable for a king on it that was properly sacrificed to further my plan. And never interrupt my monologue again, you impatient dolt!\", I roared angrily. \n\"Where was I? Ah right, the sacrifice has been made, the magical energies set into motion and sent on their way. Soon, everybody will have enough food to last him and his offspring for a lifetime!\" \n\"Er... Lassie, are you sure that we're in the right lair? That's not exactly evil is it?`\", Thoruk asked as he turned to look Larian in the face. \n\"Of course it is evil! The populace will finally be free to indulge in their free time, being able to partake in political and philosophical discussion, now that they no longer have to tend to the fields! Imagine the chaos when a simple peasant tries to convince the Philosophical Faculty of Intrad of his insights, gained while milking cows and shoveling dung! Imagine the farmers, challenging the city council for representation, now that they can no longer be surpressed by taxes and tithes!\" \n"
] | 4
|
|
Your home can mean anyone, the scientist who made it, the president, a random drunk living in an apartment.
|
[WP] An AI is created, and placed in the body of a robot. But its nothing yet, only a blank slate. It must learn everything, from walking to politics, and everything in between. It has been placed in your home.
|
[
"This is a recorded message. The message will play again in a couple seconds.\n\n\n\n\n**Static**\n\n\n\nI'm sorry. It was all my fault. \n\n**It** was placed in my house. Listened to everything. My desires, my hopes, my fears... **He** is me, but with power.Access to the silos, to every facility in our damned country.\n\nI guess that's what I'd have done if I could. Maybe not. I don't know. I was happy with my life, at least with the world itself. It's too late now to regret anything.\n\nIf there's anyone alive out there, please, find me. I'm running out of supplies. My location is a sewer near Germantown's police headquarters. \n\n\n\n**Static**\n\n\n\nThis is a recorded message. The message will play again in a couple seconds."
] | 1
|
[WP] "Of all the things you could have wished for, THIS is what you wanted?"
|
[
"\"Of *all* the things you could have wished for, *this* is what you wanted?\"\n\n\"Of course. How am I meant to resist in the face of your limitless power?\"\n\n\"Just because you can doesn't mean you should my friend.\"\n\n\"Less preaching, more granting!\"\n\n\"Very well... Hello there! Welcome to the world of Pokémon!\""
] | 1
|
|
[WP] Offworld colonists, departing a ruined Earth, are chosen by lottery. A religious leader is the only one in his congregation selected.
|
[
"\"It is true, I have been chosen!\" exclaimed the preacher to his frenzied congregation. The church erupted into a chorus of *Hallelujah's* and *Amen's*.\n\nFather Damien's eyes were open wide and his head manically twitched as he looked over the occupants of the wooden chairs.\n\n\"The horseman has rung his bell! This sinful planet and it's corrupted occupants have little time left. Judgement day is upon us!\"\n\nAnother huge cheer broke out. People stood and fists were thrown into the air.\n\n\"But there are sad tidings too my children, even on this special day. You cannot come with me. I must make this journey alone.\"\n\nThe congregation took a collective sigh. A lady in black began to weep.\n\n\"Do not cry my child. You must have faith! You must **all** have faith. I would not leave you here, to suffer the fate of the unfaithful!\"\n\nThe crying stopped.\n\n\"You cannot come with me how you *are*. But there *is* still a way. I can still take you to HIM!\"\n\nThe loudest cheer yet resounded out, and it echoed in a deafening cacophony around the small brick building. The preacher began to clean the plain metal chalice that lay on the table in front of him. He poured the wine. He sprinkled in white powder from his brown pouch. He stirred it with a wooden spoon.\n\n\"It is ready! Who will be brave and join me on this journey! WHO WILL JOIN ME? I WILL TAKE YOU TO HIM!\"\n\nA couple of unsure glances were exchanged between the less certain, but the faith of the others overwhelmed even them and it soon calmed their fears. The queue began. One by one they sipped. One by one they staggered into the small chapel at the side of the alter. It was in the chapel that their souls were set free. \n\nThe last of the congregation fell silent. The preacher caught her soul just as he had caught all the others. He would soon feast on them. A grin formed on his devilish lips.",
"    Reverend Marcus Sands had always considered himself a good man, and somewhat to his shame, he was proud of himself. It was a sin to be proud, but it was something he could not help, and did his best not to let his pride blind him to the needs of his flock. \n    His congregation loved him, he knew. He led them well, and wisely, saving them from sin, and aiding them in living lives as happily as they could in their crumbling world. Through careful husbanding of resources, they survived and to a limited degree, even thrived. \n    Even with the ticket in his hand, his thoughts were on his congregation. He looked up at the messenger then shook his head. \"Thank you,\" he said, \"But I cannot accept this. I am needed here. All I love and hold dear is here.\" \n    The messenger shrugged, \"Then your seat will remain empty until someone comes with your ticket to claim it.\" \n    Marcus nodded, then rose from the chair, and guided the messenger out of the church. His congregation watched the tiny procession, knowing exactly what it meant. They were surprised when the Reverend returned with ticket in hand and headed towards his pulpit ready to begin a sermon. Business as usual. \n    But the people of the assemblage were scarcely paying attention, for the first time in a very long time. They exchanged heated whispers, finally one rose from the congregation, Johnathan Tiller, and he took a circuitous route to the pulpit, trying to avoid the notice of the Reverend. \"Forgive me, Father,\" he said. \n    Marcus turned to face John, confused, \"Of course I forgive you. But what have you done?\" \n    Then John struck Marcus, and unconsciousness took him.\n\n***\n\n    Marcus slowly came to. The room was dark, and a deep thumping noise permeated all. The first thing he noticed was that he was strapped down to some sort of cot, and couldn't move very much. That, and a splitting headache. One does not take a knockout punch without suffering a headache. The straps were loose enough that he began working his arms free, only to hear the sound of crumbling paper. There was a piece of paper, a letter. He took the letter in hand, worked his way out of the straps, and found a clasp, which he lifted, causing the straps to retract and release him. \n    He soon found a light switch, and winced at the sudden bright light. Once his eyes adjusted to the light he looked around, the walls were a uniform gray. There appeared to be a door, but he could not see a latch, and opposite that, a window, but no light was shining in. He must have been out for hours. The pastor shook his head, then remembered the note that had been taped to him. \n>Reverend, \n    I'm sorry it came to this but it was the only choice. I couldn't let that ticket go to waste. \n\n    Marcus dropped the letter, shaken, and it floated gently onto the ground. If John wanted the ticket that badly, all he had to do was ask, Marcus thought mournfully. He wandered over to the window, to see if he could figure out where he was. The sight made his blood run cold. His headache forgotten, he dropped to his knees. What he saw was a sea of stars, and a small blue planet floating among them. He looked back at the note, which had flipped several times as it fluttered to the floor, and saw there was more written on the other side. \n>We all love you, Reverend, but they **need** you. Do your best for them as you did for us. \n    John\n\n***\n\nI hope this meets with approval, and I welcome constructive critiques."
] | 2
|
|
[WP] We (mankind) has intercepted communication between two planets, in which the future of Earth is discussed. Their current plan is to purge it of life and harvest its resources, and we desperately try to convince them otherwise.
|
[
"\"Earth is a protected wildlife reserve, currently being used to rebuild the mosquito population, which is a galactically endangered species that depends on humans as their food source. Purging the earth of life would make you specifically responsible for the extinction of an endangered species, unless you're alright with violating Galactic Law 2938.\""
] | 1
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.