Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP]"God help us." "God will not help you, why would he? When he was the one who sent me."	[ "My job is a relatively simple one, but it's not really an easy one. There isn't a \"god(s)\" or \"God\" but there is me. I am death, destruction, hell, I don't really care what you call me, but you humans think just call me evil. Almost every massacre, serial killing, natural disaster, genocide, anything that involves a large number of casualties, I'm either the cause or part of it. I am the embodiment of destruction and death. I just sort of appear when I'm needed. As if the nonexistent God summons me to do my job. I've been around since time started, I've seen century after century, millenia after millenia wreaking havoc and death.\n\nIt'd been about a month or two since I was last in the mortal world. It was hard to tell how much time was passing, it's sort of like that state when you're sleeping, but you still realize that stuff is happening around you. Except that when I \"sleep\" I see everything. I see everyone in the world moving and living, vaguely but I still see it. So whenever I arrive somewhere, whether that be a human embodiment or a something like a storm or fire, I always know where I am. \n\nBefore I appeared, I knew my mission, what had to be done. I appeared in Kansas, some thirty miles outside of Topeka. It was a small town, about sixty years ago I watched a kid for months, he was interesting to me. So kind and yet not all... there in the head. Anyways, he's not important to this story. I appeared in the backyard of a home. It was an old colonial home, it was large, but however large the house was, the yard was larger. It went back into the woods in which I stood, gazing towards the house. \n\nI saw a young woman, she was playing with a toddler. She was the mother of the boy, their names appeared in my head, Jane and Zach. Jane was a nice woman, always kind and cheerful. Zach was a handful, though. Jane was only twenty-four years old but she looked older from the stress her child put on her. Jane was very beautiful, she attracted many suitors but she was also smart, she didn't flaunt her beauty or wealth, she knew that her looks would one day fade and she should look for \"the one.\" It took her years but she did. She was seventeen when she met Jake, he was a year younger than her but he fell head over heels in love with her. Jake was a smart boy, he was taking courses a year ahead than anybody else in his grade, he shared a class with Jane, that's how they met, English class. He was so nervous to talk to her that she came to believe that he had a stutter from their earliest talks. But by the end of the semester, they were in love. They married after being together for six years. Jane became a college professor while Jake started his own business. Then came along Zach, all was well.\n\nI watched as Jane ushered her son up onto the deck and into the house. I examined my own vessel. I was extremely pale and lanky. Long, dark hair clouded my field of vision which made me have to keep pushing it to the side which I found very annoying. I was wearing all black clothes and had a backpack with me. I opened it to see a length of pipe, rope, a hatchet, lighter fluid with a color matching lighter, and a sturdy flashlight. \n\nI looked at the setting sun and watched darkness settled over the land. I crept towards the house. I was sure that there were security measures in place, I seemed to recall Jake buying some. With the amount of money that was in the family, I would be throughly surprised if there wasn't something like bodyguards or motion activated floodlights or even thermal imaging cameras pointed at anything that could pose as a threat to the family. \n\n I took the pipe from my pack and crept towards the deck. I reached the foot of the stairs when I heard the sliding glass door open and close. I heard the beep of an electronic lock and the shuffling of feet towards me. I quickly dived underneath the deck and saw shoes going down the steps of the stairs. I heard the man yawn and open some kind of glass bottle, most likely beer. His back was turned to me, he had short red hair and was tall and burly. I recognized him as Ethan. \n\nI slinked towards Ethan, pipe in hand. I raised it and swung. The pipe connected with a sickening crack and sent Ethan to the ground, unconscious. I patted him down and found his key card. I took and and dragged him under the deck. I stepped out from under the deck and walked up the steps of the deck. The deck was large, there was a huge grilling set up the my right and a large pool to my left. I walked right up to the glass door and peered inside. The house was mostly dark, the door led to a hallway and past that hallways was the kitchen. The kitchen was void of people but the past the kitchen was the living room wich faintly glowed with a warm light.\n\nI used Ethan's key card and slid the door open. I stepped inside and was greeted by a blast of cool air. I closed the door and silently walked through the kitchen to the living room. In the living room was a staircase that led to the upper floor. The hallway above shone with stronger light. \n\nI climbed the carpeted stairs and heard the sounds of voices. Jane and Jake's voices. I stalked towards the voices and the light. I peered into the room which the sound and light eminated, inside was little Zach, playing with his parents. They were laughing. \"I'm sorry.\" I muttered. \n\nJane and Jake went quiet quickly but little Zachary kept laughing. \"Ethan?\" Jake called out, \"Is that you?\"\n\nInstead of answering, I stepped through the threshold and into the room. Jake stood up quickly, balling his fists.\n\n\"Who are you?\" He demanded.\n\nI didn't respond.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" \n\nI could answer that. \"I'm here because I have to be, it is not if my own free will.\"\n\n\"That's stupid everybody has free will.\" Jake said. I eyed Jane, putting herself between me and Zach. \n\n\"Do you think distancing your child from me is going to save him?\" I asked. \n\nJake let loose a guttural scream and tackled me, my pipe flying from my hands. His fists flying, forming new bruises with each punch. I managed to push him off me and scrambled for my pipe. Jake grabbed me and pulled me back, but not before I wrapped my fingers around the piece of metal. I rolled onto my back and swung the pipe, it let loose a ringing sound as it struck Jake in the face, right above his brow. He went limp. \n\nJane screamed. She tried to advance towards Jake but I stood and put myself in between her and her husband.\n\n\"God...\" she sobbed, \"God help us.\"\n\nI cocked my head. \"God will not help you, why would he? When he was the one who sent me.\"\n\nI unzipped my backpack, took out the length of rope and bound Jake with it. Jane was crying and so was Zach. I then retrieved the lighter fluid and proceeded to pour it all over the carpet. Jane's eyes widened. She stood up and took a step towards me.\n\n\"Jane,\" I warned, \"don't try to fight me, it's not going to end well if you do.\"\n\nHer eyes widened more, \"How do you know my name?\"\n\nI opened my mouth to respond but she quickly cut me off, \"You're too young to be one of my old students... you have to be some kind of stalker!\"\n\n\"Please, \" I chortled, \"I'm nothing of the kind, I'm just doing what needs to be done, I'm sorry.\" \n\nI flicked the lighter on, \"I'm so sorry, but this is what must be done, I don't know why, but it must.\" I dropped the lighter onto the carpet. The carpet quickly went up in flames. The fire was licking the ceiling within seconds of it igniting. It quickly spread, enveloping the whole upstairs, with Jane, Jake, Zach, and I. They screamed loudly, so very loud, but they were drowned out by the sound of the roaring fire. I felt the fire flowing off of me, off of my clothes, hair, skin. I collapsed and began to seize. My entire nervous system was in overload, I felt nothing except my inability to breathe. \n\nTime to sleep. Darkness clouded my vision, until it faded completely to black. I slept." ]	1
The idea came to me from a sandbox video game I play (Mount and Blade warband) where you assume the role of a character thrown into the world of Calradia, where 6 factions constantly fight to rule.	[WP] You're a chaotic evil man in a medieval age-like setting with only one goal; causing as much chaos as you possibly can, brining the world to its knees.	[ "I've been alive a long time. The world was only becoming worse, as much as I tried to save it. Eventually I tired of being moral since I was persecuted, convicted, and crucified. \n\nI was hanging on my cross along with another man, a thief , and another guy that some called messiah, and some celled jew, and some just laughed at. We did not talk much, but at the end, when they stabbed him and he was bleeding out, they caught his blood an a bucket and poured it all over him. And us. \n\nI was alive right before he died, and thirsty. we were all dying of thirst. The torturers stabbed a sponge with a spear, and dipped it into a water bucket next to the thief, and gave him some water. As good as that may seem, the water we received was only enough to slow our own death, so they could revel in our suffering. I refused the sponge offering...intending to just die and be finished with this miserable life. \n\nBut that was not to be, for they dipped the sponge in the blood of the messiah and climbed a ladder beside me, forced my mouth open, and forced me to drink of his blood. Again and again. It was a huge joke for them, and they said I was drinking ' the blood of life.' Thinking that it would act as the water and prolong my agony. \n\nLittle did they know what they did. \n\nWhen He died, he spoke to me before crying out to the heavens. The words are not recorded. But they were real nonetheless . \n\n\" Fear not, for today is not thy day to die, for thy name is not written into the book of death, as are the names of everyone else. Fear not death, for he shall not come for you. I cannot take revenge, for the hour has come for me to leave. But you shall be my agent, not in Paradise, but on earth. In the tomb where they will place me, in a sealed sepulcher from an earlier time lies your means of retribution. Remember it.\" \n\nThose words He spoke to me, and here, centuries later, i remember. \n\nI will not go into the dark times after..when His followers pulled me down in the chaos and placed a dead man on my cross. How the site they called Golgotha was lost to me, how I wandered to different lands, trying to help people and being repeatedly shunned. How it was only when I caused ruin and destruction was I free of discomfort and persecution. Suffice it to say that I turned into an agent of destruction, and the more chaotic my surroundings, the easier it became for me . People would heed my words, and do my bidding, so long as my end goal was ruination. \n\nAnd I became very good..but still His words rang in my head. I have been forced to move on from place to place, as I seem to age very slowly, and have to leave lest they notice and try to stop me. \n\nAnd this brings me back to the beginning. I have searched long for the exact spot, and have finally found it. Catacombs under a mighty temple. I would not have found it were it not for the sinkhole in between the temple wall and the outer city wall. It was in a place no one would notice unless one was on the rooftops, as i happened to be. A small opening, barely large enough for me to squeeze into. But i felt the aura as soon as i dropped in. There was a great round stone that had fallen on a stone slab, and this had cracked the wall of the chamber revealing that that was inside. \n\nThe chamber was small, and as i had no light, I reached in up to my shoulder as far as I could. It was too small to force my body into. It felt as though I was being crawled upon by tiny creatures.And bitten. Insects perhaps. My hand fastened onto something that was putrid and bloated. At first, repulsed, I pulled my arm out. In the dim light from the opening, I could see black grains of sand. But they were moving. And I felt a burning sense of urgency. Almost a compulsion. I forced my arm back in once more and grasped the object and pulled. And pulled out a small fur covered corpse of some unnamed creature.\n\nAs soon as the body came free, the chamber I had found started to shake and collapse, as did the chamber I had crawled into from the sinkhole opening. I threw the creature into a leather satchel I carried, as the compulsion to leave was stronger than any I had ever known. \n\nMy work here was done. \n\nI escaped the chamber and went to my abode to see what I had discovered. Besides fleas, which were now covering my body. But curiously, they dropped and died in the sunlight, so I did not open my burden until I was safely home. There, I opened the pouch to see the body writhing with fleas. But they seemed not to leave the body or jump out upon me, much to my surprise. \n\nI sat in thought, trying to make sense of this thing He wanted me to have, and how to use it. I decided to make myself a small repast, and began to prepare a hot meal. At this point, the smell of my cooking attracted a one of the many rats that come to feed on scraps in the poor section of town i was staying in. As soon as the rat appeared, the flap to the satchel gave a little flip and fleas attacked the him. What happened next is...well, it cannot be coincidence . One of the local guards who occasionally does shakedowns of the poor appeared at my door. The rat scurried by him and out of the door, and he came in demanding something of value in order for him to 'protect 'me from thieves and robbers. He looked into the satchel, and threw it down in disgust. All I had was my meal, which he refused, saying that I was unclean and he should report me. He said he would be back on the morrow, and I should either pay him or prepare to be driven out from the city and be scourged. As if that had not happened before. He then turned to leave, and slapped at himself a few times and complained about the vermin and pests in my abode. \n\nTwo days later he came back, and could barely walk. He had huge blisters on him, blood stained his tunic from his vomit, and he was nearly raving from fever. His fingertips were already turning black, and I knew now what I will be doing soon. As I now know what my retribution shall be. For so as the guards tried to show me the end, the guards now show me the beginning. \n\nLooking around me now, I see dozens of rats waiting patiently. They are willingly climbing into my baskets and boxes that I have prepared for my journey. The boxes stacked around a central box that contains many small holes in the sides, and a leather satchel in the center. They will all go inside when the time is right, and emerge in each new town we stop in. \n\nThe year is 1346 and we have an entire world to visit. My little friends and I will soon humble the arrogant, the rich, the poor, the believers and the non. We shall spare none. If I do my job as I should, Maybe He will lift this curse from me and let me rest. In the meantime, I smile at what is to come, and I alone shall remain to see the world brought to its knees. \n\n[The year is 1346, and I bring the plague, the Black Death, to the world.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Death)\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] "I'm telling you, there's something not quite right about that goat."	[ "\"I'm telling you, there's something not quite right about that goat\", Michael explained. Michael's been like this ever since I've known him; he is every kind of paranoid you can imagine. He's an obsessive-compulsive, agoraphobic hypochondriac with just over a dozen different disorders. He's had a hard time making friends because of it. The last time I brought him to a night-out with four of my colleagues, he swore up and down that a man was going around spiking people's drinks; including his own. Against my better judgement, I confronted that person, who turned out to be the owner of the bar. You can probably guess what happened to us immediately afterwards.\n\nMichael is a family friend. I don't think I would've ever had been friends with him had it been otherwise. His father passed away a year after he was born; his mother worked three jobs to support Michael through school and college. He was a normal kid for a while, or so my mother tells me, until a robber broke into his house while his mother was working. The robber tied him in the bathroom and left him in there until his mother got back from the graveyard shift. Since that point, he stayed at my place when his mother was away, but he wasn't the same. Or so my mother tells me.\n\nMichael and I have both graduated from University a year ago. He's had trouble landing a job for more than two weeks. He said it's because the jobs weren't for him; I think it was the other way around. I decided to convince him to take a trip with me up to the Highlands, to help clear his head. In many ways, I'd hoped that something will help him calm down, if only for a little bit. Maybe it's a futile attempt to fix him. I had prayed something might change in him. But when he brought up the goat, I gave up.\n\n\"Something is just off\", Michael continued. He had started to be gripped by one particular goat, 150 yards down the field. I lost hope in the main effort in this trip. I thought to myself that hopefully, since I'd brought my DSLR and a new telephoto lens, I could've salvaged this trip into a decent photography expedition.\n\n\"It's a goat, Michael. What could possibly be off about a goat?\"\n\n\"Look, it's away from all the other goats!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Michael, it's probably just grazing or something.\" I don't even think that goats graze. Hell, I don't even know what grazing is. I just needed to say something to calm him down. It was fruitless.\n\n\"Doug, you have to believe me. It's freaking me out!\"\n\n\"Just leave the goat alone.\"\n\n\"Doug, ple-\"\n\n\"Michael, I've had enough of this. I had hoped that after everything, EVERYTHING, this trip would somehow get you to make some steps towards getting over your anxiety but it's clear that even if I take you away from everything that could possibly make you anxious, you fixate on a docile animal! What's next when the goat is gone, huh? The hills have eyes?!\" I had ranted so intently that I didn't even realise that Michael had ignored me this entire time, remaining possessed by the image of some random, loner goat. A match made in heaven, if you ask me. \n\n\"Michael, are you even listen-...\" He rushed over to my camera bag and pulled out my DSLR, attached the lens, zoomed into the 200mm maximum and took a picture of the goat, all in a single moment. I was baffled by this bout of immediacy and seeming lack of anxiety by him. Michael before would've never even dared to move my phone two inches to the right on the kitchen counter-top.\n\nI snapped to my senses. \"Michael, we're going home now. I'm sick of this.\" I noticed that Michael was intently staring at the viewfinder on the camera. \"I hope you're proud of yourself.\"\n\n\"Doug...\" Michael without moving his head, quiveringly whispered in my direction. His body was stunned; the only things that moved were his arms, to point the camera's viewfinder towards me.\n\nThe goat was staring straight into the camera. \n\n\n\n-- Hey, anybody reading this; this is my first story on Writing Prompts and I've been meaning to get back into writing for a while. I'm probably a bit (okay, very) rusty, but any tips or writing advice would be appreciated. Also, thanks OP for the amazing writing prompt! --", "Have you ever noticed how disgusting the eyes of a goat are? They’re like hyphens in a sea of slime, unmoving, unchanging, staring with a wide depth that can’t become comprehended. I’m not saying other parts of the goat are particularly pleasant, but I’ve always found these eyes unsettling, as if they’re seeing something personal that I don’t particularly want them to pay heed to. Not to mention the biblical connotations of these eyes, seeing Satan in their gaze. \n\nHowever, goats nowadays are fairly docile. It would be a strange to see a herd of goats participating in a séance to summon the lord of evil himself, though that’s exactly what I saw that night. It was dark and stormy, and I was arriving at the scene of a call for some suspicious activity. Now, it’s not uncommon to be getting these calls of cults and the extranormal during the spirit of Halloween, so I was hardly concerned. Probably just another group of kids getting a good scare, and an even better laugh out of it. I parked my car, and made sure it was locked. If there were kid messing around, I certainly didn’t want them messing around in my vehicle, doing any damage to the interior of my new ride. I moved noisily into the field, announcing my presence, which was further emphasized with the beam of a blinding flashlight which shined from one direction to another in the search of these delinquents. I was not far into the field when I began to hear the rustling of the dried corn. It was then I saw it. \n\nNot far from the entrance of the field lie a clearing of corn, driven in a curved line, with a straight line cleared further into the crop. Now I’ve never been one to believe in crop circles or anything of the like, and this clearing of corn was further evidence of this suspicious activity. I had a feeling I would be finding the kids who took the great idea of not only trespassing, but causing property damage as well. However, I was quickly startled by a bleating to my left, and I saw around the curve a goat eating into the corn crop, in an equally straight line as the one I was staring at. I moved carefully towards the goat, and my movement seemed to startle him. He looked sharply in my direction, and charged full speed, knocking the bright light from my hand, leaving me in the darkness. I felt the pressure of a beast against my chest, and I fell to the ground. \n\nThat was the last thing I had remembered, and when I awoke, I found myself here, in the middle of the corn crop, surrounded by five unhappy looking goats, standing at equal lengths of about six meters away from me in perfect diagonals. The ground was lit only by the light of the moon, yet the eyes of the goats were lit with a light so piercing it was hard to stare. It wasn’t until the goats systematically moved closer that I noticed something was very wrong. I’m telling you, there was something not right about these goats. I wasn’t about to stay around and find out, and I hauled it out of the field as quick as I could, the corn crops burning my skin as it slashed past me. I had no idea which direction I was running, but all I knew was I needed out. Thankfully, after just several minutes, I bounded into the roadside grass, with my new car in plain view, glinting in the blessed moonlight. I ran as quickly as I could towards it, wheezing to my last lungs by the time I arrived. I reached into my pocket to grab the keys, only to find, they were gone. I turned my head back to the corn, to see 10 patches of fire lit eyes slowly advancing towards me from the edges of the corn. \n\nI pulled on the handle of the car as hard as I could, but the locks would simply not budge. The goats came closer and closer, while I became more and more frightened. As they reached a close distance, they began to charge, bashing my head against the exterior with a resounding thud, and I could tell my car was surely dented. Dammit. As I lay there on the ground in defeat, they came closer, forcing me to stare into their eyes, as if mocking me. \n\nHave you ever noticed how disgusting the eyes of a goat are? They’re like hyphens in a sea of slime, unmoving, unchanging, staring with a wide depth that can’t be comprehended. It’s no longer simply biblical times where these eyes have haunted the masses of the human population. The goats are back, and they’re here with the fury of hell itself. \n\nHey, this is one of my first stories, so if you've got anything to help me along, it would be greatly appreciated. It's likely to be overlooked, but if you have any comments to send my way, I would always like to hear them. Thanks!\n" ]	2
Or any other haunting conclusion	[WP] Centuries from now, someone discovers emojis were used – much like the Egyptian hieroglyphs – to communicate. Their interpretation of it leads them to the conclusion that the 21st century was a very, very odd period of time.	[ "In the past things had more intent. They had purpose. He wondered what that meant, if they were more artistic then, but he was an archaeologist, not a philosopher. But there was no denying the charm of the past.\n\n\nHolt was young and it was his first job. So much had changed from his forefathers’ time. Words were taught to him in school, but this was his first time seeing them being used outside in the real world. Communication had moved past medium. Breakthroughs in neuroscience had allowed for the sharing of thoughts, intentions, what we really wanted to say. Words seemed so archaic in comparison.\n\n\nAnd these were not words. Silently, he touched the old screen, an old technology from a different time. There were pictures, smileys and symbols. Holt knew what they meant. Things had been well documented, but yet it seemed so foreign. To think ideas were once spread like that. Holt didn’t know how he felt.\n\n\nHe was writing his thesis. Some things never change. A doctor of archaeology. It had a ring to it like those old movies, the one that starred Denex Harrison as Indiana Jones.\n\n\nThose were based on even older movies, he thought. Movies you had to watch physically.\n\n\nBut he had never seen them. And he was getting sidetracked. Holt had found his thesis. He held the old relic to his eyes and scrolled through the old images. He had found it indeed.\n\n\nThe reception was unthinkable. Holt was praised and lauded. He became a doctor and his paper on the Sentient Generation became a sensation. Holt argued that since the dawn of civilization, the invention of language and writing, humans were always trying to communicate the truth. The human condition has always been about expressing what we really are, what we really mean. Advancements in science had made this possible before Holt’s time, but before then communication was abstract and only an approximation. \n\n\nThe Sentient Generation had made great strides with what little they had, he postulated. Moving past words, they expressed their feelings with something more direct, more meaningful. The concise symbols of emojis had allowed for more nuanced emotion, more meaningful expression than any words could convey. Holt argued that this was the first stride in the neurological connections that would eventually replace physical communication.\n\n\n“They were the first to achieve true sentience,” he said.\n\n\nBut of course he didn’t really say it. It was all communicated wordlessly around the world.\n\n\n“They were the first to see that written words, no matter how advanced and with countless rules, would never suffice for true communication. For true connectivity. These people were the first to shrug off the shackles of literature and the stuffy leanings of tradition. They embraced the then scary concept, the radical thinking of the time. They embraced illiteracy and with that, they became more in touch with themselves. This was truly the beginning of sentience.”\n\n\nAnd so it was that history was written. " ]	1
	[WP] All of a person's memories are in a single book kept on their person. You wake up in a bed, and find a book with all but a single page torn out.	[ "It was a small book compared to most. But that was because I hadn't lived very much.\n\nSome pages contained lines upon lines of information given from study. The book would grow and more pages would appear when new experiences, memories or facts were remembered. Each page symbolised something different from the next. But as a high school student, it didn't contain the pages filled with fine print that showed a deep understanding and knowledge that a scientist would have. Nor, did it have many pages with large print that would come with experiencing the thrill of adrenaline such as skydiving or a first kiss. Still, I was contempt with it. It had everything that I had done in my life and if I ever forgot something, I could look back and find it again.\n\nIt's 7am on a Wednesday, no- I just checked my phone, it's a Friday. I woke up to get ready for school. Unlike some of my peers, I enjoyed school. More accurately, I enjoyed my friends. They were all different in their own ways which made things interesting and enjoyable whenever I saw them. I couldn't wait to see them today! \n\nThere's J.. anna, She's so nice and kind to others. She bakes in her free time and sometimes bring cookies for me and- uh..- Da. No. Wait. \n\nHow do I know her? And...and... what does she look like? Why do I trust her when I don't know-\n\nI opened my book, flipping through the pages as fast as I could. I know it. The pages are made in chronological order, it's somewhere near the end... Highschool. My best friends, the people I shared the most time with, all the places we went to hang out. I can't remember.\n\nTears start to well up in my eyes, I know I'm getting close, the pages I'm looking at are only a few months old. The whole time I'm digging in my memory, trying to remember something, anything, about the people who I held, dearest to me. The pages start to blur as the tears start to fall down my face, I wipe them away because I know it's only a few more pages until I get there, oh why didn't I just open from the back of the book?. \n\nI keep rubbing my eyes as the pages as my vision is still blurred when all of a sudden I reach the back cover. I wipe my eyes a final time to look at the page. It's gone, it looked like it was hastily ripped out diagonally from the base of the book leaving some of the top of the page. Names? There's Janna and a few others. But the rest blurry to the point of being unreadable. The longer I stare at the blur, the more it seems to fade. I flip back a few pages to see if any of my previous memories can help me remember but most of the lines are blurred with only a few letters left readable. I stare at what is left of my book, 1 page ripped out and many more pages too blurry to read. As the tears started to form again I notice something, staring at some letters would reveal the word. The \"o\" slowly revealed \"Don't\" written in a bold font compared to the rest of the letters on the page. Don't what? \n\nI flipped through more pages with words slowly clearing and my memory coming back in pieces. There was something yesterday, what was it. It was significant to me. What was it? a sport? a game. I only play futsal at school. I only joined because a friend of mine told me to. I can't wait to play on Thurs- wait, that was yesterday. \n\nTime seemed so distant and far away from me, like I wasn't affected by it. \n\nFeelings of pride and happiness sweep over me and I remember about my team. We aren't very good, but we work hard for every win and enjoy ourselves even if we lose. I love playing as the keeper, being in such an intense situation so often (because of how bad we are as a team) and the cheers from the crowd of students whenever I make a save is exhilarating and a very addictive feeling. \n\nSuddenly the memory floods into my head as I relive it in seconds. We're down 2-1 in the second half. My legs are tired and my concentration is about to break, but my team let a fast break get past them. In a 2 on 1 against my opponents, they pass from the left wing over to the right to catch me off guard but I make a long dive to cover as much of the goals as possible in an effort to block the shot... The memory starts to blur, the crowd suddenly erupts and a feeling of relief fills me, but I feel slow and sluggish as my vision starts to blur and a sharp pain explodes on my forehead before I fade to black.\n\nBut there's something extra to this memory, a thread connected to it. I start to mentally pull this thread to find out where it goes. Suddenly, an intense feeling of affection sweeps over my body, my heart seems to grow and a smile creeps onto my face as the memory starts to surface.\n\nIt's a person, someone shorter than me with long hair. She stand in a shadow so dark that I can't recognise any defining features.\n\n\"Join the team, I know you'll enjoy it and I'll be able to come cheer for you\"\n\nThe shadow seems to fade as she starts to smile, it's a big smile that pushes her cheeks up and her makes her eyes sparkle. A smile that makes me heart pound and makes my lips curve upwards without realising it. \n\n\"Don't ignore how you feel\"\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nSorry guys, didn't mean for this to this long. This is how having amnesia from a concussion felt to me when I experienced it. The WP just seemed to fit really well with what happened to me. I'm sorry my writing isn't the best, even I can see it, but I have finals to study for.\n\n(Also a new found respect for those who write amazing stories on this sub)" ]	1
	[WP] You're an alchemist. Adventurers ask for some really stupid things.	[ "I always liked adventurers. Whether the naïve farm lad seeking fame and fortune, or the ominous lone figure shrouded in cloaks and mystery, or even sleazy Old Man Jenkins on his never-ending quest to get laid, I never judged. I barely make ends meet, as it is, being an odds and ends alchemist in the ho-dunk village of Crosstown (because the town is shaped like a cross sign from above), so I appreciate all the business I can get. \n\tEither way, I only have to stay here a few more years for my residency. I had graduated top of my class at Alchemy Southwestern over in Waysford with a bright future ahead of me. All I had left to do before becoming a wealthy alchemist in a bustling city at the peak of civilization was my residency term in this quaint little hole in the ground. Unfortunately, my eclectic customers were not making it so easy. \n\tEvery day I would wake up at dawn in my cramped attic bedroom, drag myself out of bed, and eventually hobble downstairs to my cozy little alchemy shop. I’d sprinkle a fresh layer of dust on my various potions and wares to add that classic dusty potion shop feel (what, did you think the dust just came out of nowhere?), and by about nine a.m. I begin the day by flipping the moldy wooden sign to “open.” I swear by all the gods that were and to be that a moment after flipping the sign, someone would come in immediately. One would imagine that someone to be the adventurers seeking healing potions to aid their quest to quench the wrath of a fiery dragon or the ambitious mage seeking that rare, exotic ingredient for his new spell or maybe even a brave warrior in need of dangerous materials to slay an otherwise invulnerable foe. One would be wrong because every day I get adventurers, oh yes, who appears the prototypical adventurer of all types, but are shopping for something less…exciting to say the least. \n\tOn a day like any other, a confident knocking had drawn my attention after flipping the sign. I turned and smiled when I saw him. Wiping the grin from my face, I called out for him to enter. A strapping young man with blazing blue eyes and impressive stature, clad in the finest steel armor and the cocky air of the bravest of adventurers, strode into my shop. A sharp, yet satisfying metallic thump resounded through the cheap wood of the floorboards with each step of the impressive man. My face contorted as I tried to contain myself. \n\t“Welcome! Welcome, weary traveler! Welcome to my humble little shop!” I shouted, only the slightest cracking in my voice. \n\t“How may I help you today? An elixir to protect against dragon’s breathe perhaps? Or maybe a draught of invisibility for a covert mission will interest you? Surely, a miracle cure for your cursed soul mate?” \n\tThe man smiled, his attractive facial structure forming a perfect curve, the light playing off his eyes most pleasantly. Then in a heavenly voice, the epitome of all that is manly and adventurous, he spoke. \n\t“Greetings young alchemist! I’m afraid I’ll have to decline on those. I’m actually in need of a special request, one that can only be fulfilled by the most skilled and learned of the arcane craft of alchemy. A true practitioner of alchemy! A master alchemist to assist me on my grand quest!”\n\tMy legs trembled as a lone tear rolled down from my eye. The day had finally come; I would finally fulfill a request worthy of my skill!\n\t“I-I am m-more than up to the task, young adventurer! W-w-what would you like me to make for you?” I stammered excitedly.\n\t“Splendid! I must save my betrothed from a dastardly pirate and I need a potion to destroy the source of his vile magics! \n\t“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! I mean, not about your lady being in the clutches of a scoundrel, but the task sounds worthy of my talents! So tell me more about this pirate, what is the source of his dark powers?” \n\t“Well, it’s obvious is it not? I believed it to be common knowledge.” He scoffed. \n\t“Apologies, my good lord, but I do not follow. Magic users tend to have myriads of different sources of power. Perhaps a gem or ornate trinket in his possession? Or is his ship the source?” \n\t“I’m shocked at your ignorance and naivete. The source of power for pirates are all one and the same.” He replied with growing annoyance. \n\t“Please, my lord, then enlighten me with your knowledge.” I replied with waning pride. \n\t“It’s in the pie.” \n\t“I’m sorry?” \n\t“Well, I don’t know what sort of pie it is exactly, may it be apple or blueberry, or God forbid, rhubarb…” \n\t“Pie, my lord?” my brow furrowed in confusion. \n\t“Yes, you incompetent charlatan of an alchemist. PIE! That’s why they are “pie-ritz,” it really is quite obvious.” \n\tThe entire building rumbled as the door slammed shut, the brand new dust flying off the shelves. Aftershocks resounded up the stairs until a final crash into the bed. Perhaps tomorrow will be the day.\n", "I sat at my alchemists table behind the counter of my shop. I took a pinch of powdered Riverweed and sprinkled it into the bubbling concoction I had sitting in front of me. \n\n\"Alright,\" I mumbled to myself. \"Now all that's left to do is let this simmer for the next hour and a half, bottle it up and I'll have a hot batch of mana potions for those stupid shut-ins down at the guild.\" I didn't particularly like them; the mages. They were a bunch of antisocial weirdos who sit in their basement all day doing gods-know-what. But they keep to themselves and they pay well so I never object to filling out any contracts they offer up my way.\n\nI stood up and leaned over the counter glancing around my small little store. Sometimes I wonder why I even opened a shop. I rarely would get any walk-in customers. Normally I'd get a letter from a carrier pigeon with a contract from someone who knew what the hell they wanted. Most of my walk-ins were people who hadn't the first clue about alchemy. People who thing that potions can do anything. Adventurers.\n\nI'll be the first to admit that I generalize too much. I'm sure not all adventurers are drooling morons but the vast majority of them are. At least the ones I've dealt with. \n\nOne came in asking for a love potion a few weeks back, not knowing that love potions are nothing more than an urban myth. Once I told him that, he thought I was speaking in code or something. Tried to coax it out of me. By winking and talking about urban myths as if that meant something else.\n\nI had a backup for when things like this came up. A case of small concoctions that looked like potions but were nothing more than bottles of alchemic waste. Drink this stuff and you'll be spewing out both ends inside an hour. It was always fun hearing murmers around town about the fellow who shat himself and started vomiting while talking to the innkeeper. Or in this case, a woman at the tavern who the adventurer was trying to chat up. \n\nSometimes I'd get much more eager and hasty customers. Like one who saw the label \"Dragon's Breath\" under a small red vial and immediately thought that it would give her the ability to breathe fire. She picked it up and downed it almost immediately. At first I was furious that she drank a potion without paying until I realized she drank a chemical designed to be mixed with cannon powder. Turn the cannonball into a white hot, exploding piece of metal. She fell to her knees, grabbed her stomach and groaned in pain before looking at me with a terrified expression. I ducked behind the counter and covered my head with my hands. I had a much bigger problem on my hands than a loss of inventory.\n\nI had to close up shop for a full week to clean up the mess she made. The scorch mark where she last knelt is still burned into the floor.\n\nI've had a single good experience with an adventurer. He came in with a limp and asked me if I had anything that would help a sprained ankle. I handed him a healing potion, he handed me some gold, thanked me and that was the end of it.\n\nI heard footsteps outside and turned my attention to the door. A figure in cheap looking armor walked in. I saw that look in his eyes. The need for an adventure. \n\n\"Sorry, we're closed.\" I said before he could say a word.\n\n\"But the sign outside says 'open'.\" he replied.\n\n\"Oh it is? Must have forgot to change it. Get out,\" I snapped. I started toward him and physically pushed him outside.\n\n\"I... I just need a truth serum.\" he pleaded.\n\n\"Those don't exist.\" I said before turning the sign to say 'Closed' and slamming the door in his face. I was having a peaceful, relaxing afternoon. I don't need this crap today.", " SCENE:\n\n(Alchemist stands over a bubbling cauldron)\n\nAlchemist: Hello there, everyone! You may know me as Mikal, greatest alchemist in all the land. People come from all over to buy my amazing potions and concoctions. Love potions? I got em. Healing remedies? Always in stock! Poisons of all sorts? Sure thing, just show me your permit!\n\nMikal: Say, have you ever wanted to know how I do it? I bet you have. That's why I'm opening up a school. Finally you and all your friends can learn all about the ancient art of alchemy! For the small price of 20 gold pieces, you can enroll in Alchemic Academy in Hammerhold!\n\nMan: I went to Mikal's shop to help me lose weight, and he gave me a potion that made me become completely in shape! Enroll now!\n\nWoman: I don't trust doctors for anything since I learned alchemy! It's all homebrewed potions for me! I had a life-threatening curse from a demon, and all it took was a little evaporated healing slicer to cure me. For your own good, you better enroll!\n\n______________________________________________\n\nMikal stood, back hunched over his cauldron. He much preferred pots and stoves, but hey, you have to put on a show. His students would be here any minute. He'd already taught them everything he knew about actual alchemy, which wasn't a lot. If he could turn iron into gold, he wouldn't need to be running this place anymore. Now it was all about magic potions and elixirs.\n\nHe heard a bell ring, and knew Gilius was there. He was always first to arrive in the morning. He took the seminars very seriously, which would be to his own downfall when he realized potions didn't actually exist. Magic liquids certainly did, but you can't just mix stuff together, say a little spell, and drink it. The most basic rule of magic is that all magic comes from the user. The closest thing you could get to a magic elixir was your own piss. Mikal didn't like lying, but 20 gold was 20 gold. Supplies ain't cheap. \n\nFootsteps gained closer, and a faint scream echoed. Mikal was mildly concerned. The footsteps were of a bulky man, from the sound of it. Probably wearing heavy armor. A customer. \n\nMikal hung up his ladle and stumbled to the shop room. A weary young warrior with a fearful look in his eye sat at a stool, sword drawn and held at his side. He looked relieved to see Mikal.\n\n\"Finally! Please, you have to help. Demons have attacked Hammerhold and you're the only alchemist I know of. I saw your commercial on the crystal ball and knew to find you. You must be a very good alchemist. I keep hearing about you, and it was a really good commercial. I know you run a school and all, but if you could just give me a potion of strength I would pay double. Please, I need you.\" A desperate tone was present in his shaky voice.\n\nMikal replied, \"Of course. Just one moment.\" He took his time to carefully reach for a bottle, and leisurely walk to the restroom. He removed the cork from the bottle, and poured in some magic potion. When it was sufficiently filled with the warm liquid, he tightly closed the non-transparent bottle. He brought it back and plopped it on the counter. The adventurer gladly took it and popped it open with almost inhuman strength and conviction, whilst sliding the proper payment across the counter. He had finished the potion before he had even left the door. \n\nPoor soul, thought Mikal. I wonder if any of the demons would like to spare 20 gold for a lesson or two.", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nKelliut Fargus had been born to a wealthy family and taught by the most distinguished tutors before he left home to study in Doterra's Holy City of Faith. On his Twenty-Fourth naming day, he presented his first work of importance to the holy order of Alchemists for the more effective method of Magic inductions of atmospheric compositions. If that hadn't been enough on its own, on his Twenty-Sixth naming day, Kelliut then went on to further his research in the applications of farming efficiency with the intent of creating a more effective means for production to cost.\n\nHis discoveries and relative ease of process soon increased farming yields by a wide margin, earned him several awards- and more than just a small quantity of wealth and recognition. As a result of his break-through with the application of magic to soil compositions, Doterra's inner townships began to prosper tremendously, and many Licences Mages were sanctioned by the High Church for needs outside of mercenary drafting.\n\nIn short, Kelliut Fargus became a celebrity. He'd had it all: Riches, fame, power, respect. For a golden era of briefest occurrence, he had what most could only dream of possessing- and he had it in excess. His opinions on matters of importance we sought out: Thoughts of political gain were quickly turned along to more than simple musings, and the potential for lordship was well within his grasp.\n\nThen he'd made the honest mistake of late-night excursions with the wrong High-Bishop's twin daughters a few to many times, and suddenly the itself faith had turned against him. In not a weeks time, it was as if all of his accomplishments had been forgotten. The Great Alchemist of the people's faith was reduced to a godless heathen in the eyes of the masses.\n\nIn short order his wealth and estates were stripped, his name was synonymous with some lesser curses used by mill-toting farmers, and his awards revoked while an angry mod of peasants ran him out of town with a half emptied wagon of whatever he could grab and the only horse that hadn't yet been sold for coin to bribe safe-passage out of the City's Northern Gates.\n\nFifteen years passed him by, and now that horse was dead, that wagon dismantled for wood, and his name was stripped from the history books- yet he'd still not found it safe to return. So long as the Bishop was yet to keel over and die in god's grace, there was a dangerous grudge present, so instead Kelliut found a much more humble and rewarding life as a vastly over-qualified shop-keeper, helping the people which came to him for trinkets, medicine, and simple chemical constructions.\n\nBut sometimes... Sometimes he had people like this.\n\n\"I'm looking for a yellow powder that can sometimes smell terrible.\" For the fifth time this week, the Battle-Mage at the counter had walked in, ignoring everything in the small shop but the Alchemist himself. \"I was hoping you might have some.\"\n\n\"Come again?\" The great Kelliut Fargus had fallen low, forced to bend knee and puzzle out the thoughts of a foreign madman. It was even more humiliating that he'd still not made the slightest hint of progress in doing so. \"I'm not certain I understand.\"\n\n\"I know, I know- but this is the last thing I'm searching for. A yellow powder, one that might be a bit chalky if I remember right, it often forms near volcanoes in odd crystals.\" The man never seemed to quit.\n\nThis would be the seventh peculiar request so far, and still Kelliut could not for the life and soul of the matter decide what was being done with the rather dramatic expenditure of silver that fell freely from the man's purse. Adventurers were more often than not peculiar folk, but this one was pushing the boundaries even for a Battle-Mage. Almost 80 pieces of Pure-minted, Doterra-Crown, branded with distinction Silver had been exchanged in his favor now, and yet Kelliut felt as though he were somehow being used as the butt of a sinister joke. The Alchemist had never heard of so many seemingly unrelated requests: \n\nCrystals extracted from refined manure or caves filled with bat-droppings? \n\nSacks full of lead pebbles meant for children's slings? \n\nWooden containers and a large ceramic vase with cork? \n\nThe purest charcoal available in the province?\n\nAbsolute and random chaos couldn't have chosen more unrelated portions of goods, but for all that insanity- now there was sudden mention of Volcanoes, and Kelliut Fargus considered that fact carefully. That was a rather interesting topic for a madman to bring up, and he was both impressed and befuddled by the knowledge lurking across the counter- only hazarding a most basic guess at the information which lurked within the Battle-Mage's skull.\n\nThe longer he stared through thick-rimmed glasses, the more he could swear by the gods that the Battle-Mage truly was a foreigner, even though such as those were all but unheard of in the Northern Regions of Doterra. It was something about the shoulders, the face- not off, but not quite traditional in the quirks and traits the Alchemist was used to seeing. This presumption was hindered by many things, as not many Foreigners bothered to travel past the main cities, and almost all of them came from the island nations of the South-Eastern sea; although the bothersome Mage didn't possess the classical accent nor the famous bronze skin of an islander. \n\nBut his appearance was odd, his clothing was odder still, and atop of his unusual profession (something usually accredited to spry old men with far too much aptitude and not enough common sense) now he was speaking of Volcanoes. Those were a topic few beyond the Higher Orders of The Church knew of and studied outside of flirting with the stakes and Holy-Knights.\n\n\"I believe the substance you seek is known as brimstone.\" The Alchemist spoke slowly as if chewing on each word, while watching the man's features for reaction to the name. There was an odd acknowledgement of recognition noted, but not much to work with in piecing the puzzle together. Instead the Mage simply took out an odd shaped item (that seemed to function as a quill) and a small portion of strange looking parchment, scribbling in unfamiliar text.\n\n\"Brimstone, got it...\" The man murmured quietly to himself. \"So do you have any of it, or should I look elsewhere?\" He glanced up, somewhat apologetic despite his stern features. \"We're running a bit short on time, the Northern March is happening soon and we'd like to be done with this before the lot of us are dragged as able-bodies over the walls.\"\n\n\"Join the crusade! For Glory! For God!\" A loud bout of shouting issued from the streets, clamor of steel plates and heavy armor marching along. \"Even the dragon of legend rides with us!\" Their cry rose up, filtering through the thick planed windows of the shop as the Alchemist watched the parade with a wary gaze. If he was ten years younger, undoubtedly they would sweep him up in their madness with all the rest. \n\nThe dragon of legend... what foolishness. For Holy Knights to lie so blatantly seemed a mortal sin.\n\n\"The Adventurer's Guild has been drafted by the Church.\" The Battle-Mage let a hand rise to pull at a roughly trimmed beard on his face. \"Seems even Jarl Congrad was forced into it: New leader of the Irregular-Squadron intended for support of the main forces. No one is much pleased about it.\" \n\n\"Aye. They'll take ever able body they can afford.\" Current affairs: Another odd topic for madmen to consider, perhaps there was no joke here at all. \n\nBeyond the parades, Kelliut had seen the banners posted on every available town-post in the region recently. Another Northern rebuttal of the growing hordes of Orcs and Goblins gathering along the borders of the Great Wall. Only a few months prior, the Dark Lord was said to have unleashed an hellish display of power that actually turned the afternoon sky pitch black, and some of the peasants were now murmuring tides of ill-omen and disaster.\n\nAs a man of science, the Alchemist considered much of this nonsense; for small exception of the very real possibility of yet another drawn out war. That much was undoubted certainty, he'd witnessed the lumber and gold heading towards Church coffers trying to find a head-start on the bloodshed. Yet another generation of young men to be wasted.\n\n\"Do you have any of the material in stock? I'd like to purchase as much of it as possible.\" As the cheering crowd ceased, faded off into the distance as it followed the Knights or dispersed, Killiut's attention slowly found its way back to his most recent and frequent customer. \"If not I'll pay for information on where to find some.\"\n\nThe man was just so strange, it was difficult to even make an honest assessment.\n\nBeyond the absurd requests, as always there was an Elf patiently waiting on the man. A dark-elf no less, standing by at the entrance watching them with an odd mix of indecision between seriousness and amusement. Great Mage of Death take them all to the blackened lands, if that wasn't a peculiar sight. Kelliut knew for a fact that none of those had been native to anywhere but the west for hundreds years, and never resided in the company of mortals. The legends clearly said those creatures had fallen into the servitude of evil long, long ago.\n", "I don't understand adventurers.\n\nI suppose that's why I never became one. Or maybe it's the other way around -- I certainly haven't met anyone else who understands them either.\n\nTake this one lad that came in to the shop recently. Nice boy--Italian, I think. Came into the shop with his brother. They were going after some sort of horned reptilian beast that had stolen the love of his life. \n\nI started gathering an assortment of supplies: healing potions, combat charms, spells of teleportation. All the things you'd want when going off to face a deadly foe. The kid stopped me. They weren't interested in that. \n\n\"Just all of the red and green mushrooms you have, sir. Oh and any roses and feathers would come in very handy as well!\"\n\nI sold them what they wanted and watched bewildered as they went on their way. \n\nI'd never understand adventurers.", "It's not that I don't like adventurers. There's something almost puppyish about the way they bounce into my shop, leather armor so new it's creaking, and ask for the sheer impossible. \n\nIt makes a change from endless love potions, at least. And every alchemist, even the ultra-serious ones who go to conferences about whether they should call themselves \"pharmacists\" instead, gets a little thrill of excitement at doing the whole adventurer sales pitch, from potions of minor healing (more-or-less a mild antiseptic and some saline) all the way up to potions of blinding insight (basically, think a smoothie made of the braincells of a dead god, and you're not far wrong.) \n\nBut the heroes are irritatingly indirect thinkers, if you understand me, or on occasion far too direct, and they don't really understand the range of options available. I can bottle anything. _Anything_. They hear \"magmabeasts have besieged Cobbletown\" and plonk down their gold sovereigns for potions of fire resistance. They hear \"snake people have captured a caravan\" and ask me for universal antidote. By far the better thing to do would be to figure out what kind of snakepeople they're dealing with - universal antidote is incredibly expensive compared to viper-be-gone or addersbane, and there's no antidote in all the realms that'll help with a boa constrictor.\n\nThe worst part is how cheapskate they can be with the resulting concoction. A hundred dollar's worth of mummy's hand goes into a draught of Everskill, and then they insist on bottling it in the cheapest, most thin-walled vessel I have. Then ten days later they try to undo the stopper with shaking hands while a lich chants endless doom at them in some forgotten crypt, and I'm the one that gets the blame when it turns out to be too hard to drink in a combat situation. I had one young barbarian come in and ask if I could fill his waterbottle with potion of clarity, \"just a little something for the road\". I told him there were stables across the way if he needed somewhere to sober up. I'm not running a charity. \n\nAbove all, though, like I mentioned, it's the indirectness that really gets to me. None of them - not one - can do root cause analysis. \n\nAll of which is to say, in a very roundabout way, that I do know the answer to your question. When Lord Blight came down out of the mountains with a legion of skeletons at his back, I equipped the heroes as best as I could with exactly what they'd asked for. Some of them took potions of cunning and skill, and were surprised to find that there's no point trying to trick the undead: They'll eat you regardless. Others took luck or strength, and realized too late I meant what I said about the effects wearing off in time. \n\nSo what did I do? Easy. As the walls crumbled and Lord Blight himself came marching towards my shop, waving his impractically large axe everywhere, I took a deep breath and downed my potion of \"dark lord and army vanish forever\" in one go. \n\nLateral thinking. They should teach it more. \n\n" ]	6
	[WP] Aliens have arrived on Earth. However, negotiations reveal that they are fleeing an oppressive government and wish to "immigrate" to humanity.	[ "(Warning: I'm still learning to write in english, so this might not be as good as I want it to be)\n\nKutonk shivered. So many K'wer in such a tiny space, but no warmth between the cold metal walls. His mother gave him the last drop of water, even though her skin already dried out and left a fragile look on her face. Grandfather Pilz climbed down the wall and pushed through to the two of them. His body was skinny and his eyes were red. Nonetheless, he seemed quite happy. \"The captain says there is a lifesupporting planet right in front of us!\" Even Kutonks mother smiled because of the good news. Everything will be better. No more beatings. No more torture. No more hunger. Shortly after, the walls startet glowing. It got very hot inside the ship. Everybody screamed. Then their wish came true. No more torture. No more hunger. No more.\n\nOn earth, five minutes earlier, a man in a black suit pushed a button. \"Well done, Sir. You prevented an alien invasion. I will recommend you personally for the medal of honor.\"", "“They tell us we have not applied through the appropriate channels. They have asked us to complete documents on tree pulp? They actually kill trees to make documents with.”\n\n“That’s barbaric!”\n\n“How primitive. Do we really need to come to this planet?”\n\n\n“Our choices are limited. It is these humaniods or annihilation at the whim of the VArterians.”\n\n“Do they have any sort of temporary solution? We have been in this craft a very long time and our resources are limited and stale.”\n\n“They have offered several options. They have divided their world into small states with a variety of governing styles. Some will take refugees openly and willingly but they have to cap their numbers. Some will house us on islands or in camps, some will put us in processing centres, some will put a very small number of us in leisure centres and individuals have offered to take in single family groupings. Our entire people will be broken up and sent all over the planet and will find it difficult to regroup.”\n\n“That is appalling. We have come peacefully and offer them no harm, we flee oppression and annihilation, how can they have such limited compassion.”\n\n“I am sure it is a cultural thing. We must find a way to make it work. I see a youngster eager to put in an opinion. Everyone should have input on this matter. What say you youngster?”\n\n“We are doing it wrong, esteemed leader.”\n\n“How so, youngster?”\n\n“You are making us look like beggars. Sure we are running from something dangerous, sure we left our home behind under the risk of total annihilation but you are making us look like beggars. They don’t respond to that. You have to make them want us. They have to be begging for us to come and stay. You need to use their PR.”\n\n“Their what?”\n\n“Public relations. You have to win them over through social media coverage. You have to convince them that we are the next best thing,…”\n\n“Next best thing? What on all the tentacles do you mean?”\n\n“You have to make us look cool, we have to be the hottest thing, we have to be hip, down with it,…”\n\n“You are not making sense youngster, do these people expect us to go through extremes of bodily change, clarify at once.”\n\n“You have to infiltrate with music and glamour and glitz.”\n\n“Esteemed Leader, what this youngster is proposing is that we become the most popular entertainment and win over the people through music, art and dramatic performance and perhaps sport and at loss for something better, chess champions.”\n\n“Yes, Yes what he said but more than that though, we have to make the youth want to be with us and copy us, we slowly integrate us one relationship at a time, they have to be fan girling over us. We have to be stars.”\n\n“Stars? Giant balls of heated gas? What is fangirling? What is the youngster on about?”\n\n“Esteemed leader, as you can hear from the murmurs of agreement, we all want a better start and going in asking a callous species to simply help for help sake is not going to work. They are killing trees to procrastinate. They don’t want us unless we have something they want. The youngsters can take the popularity path and we elders can approach scientist and offer our superior technology for an outrageous price with codacils to prevent them having ownership. We will connect to their financial institutions and make sure they pay and continue to pay.”\n\n“But we were going to give them all that for free.”\n\n“Esteemed leader, they do not respect anything they have for free. They are cutting down trees.”\n\n“Ah how very sad. Well let us vote on the plan.”\n" ]	2
	[WP] Your feeling pretty good about your third wish, immortality, until later your friend points out that you'll eventually be alone forever.	[ "I sat back and undid my belt buckle. Dave laughed and reached for the fortune cookies resting atop our check. It was Christmas and we were at our favorite Chinese restaurant. Our tradition of Pu Pu Platters and beer made the pain of not having close families easier to bear. Dave tossed me one of the fortune cookies and opened his own.\n\n “A friend’s windfall will lead to a windfall of your own,” Dave said slowly as he read the slip of paper in his hands.\n\n “Well, I’m your only friend so BOOYAH!” I shouted before finishing the rest of my beer. Dave laughed as I opened my own cookie and read my fortune, too. “Make three wishes and say them aloud,” I read to Dave.\n\n “Weird, not really a typical fortune.” Dave said. “Well, go on. I’m waiting for my windfall,” he said sarcastically.\n\n “Good thing I’ve thought of this before! Obviously, my first wish is for infinite money.”\n\n “Nice choice. I could see that benefitting me.”\n\n “Sure, sure. Second, I want the charisma to make everyone in the world like me instantly.”\n\n “Ahhh, always useful.”\n\n “And finally, I want to live forever!” I yelled, noticing my own volume and thinking that Dave should probably drive home. \n\n “I definitely wouldn’t pick that one, but it’s your funeral. Or not, I guess,” Dave laughed to himself.\n\n “Huh? I’ll never age. I’ll master any and every skill. I’ll never run out of time. Especially since I’ll have infinite money and everyone will like me… my life will be the best ever, FOREVER.” \n\n “Bryan, I don’t think you understand what ‘forever’ really means,” Dave said. Dave had been my friend since elementary school, and although we’d grown apart a bit over the years, we had never lost our ability to be honest with each other. \n\n “It means I’ll never run out of time! It means I can do anything and everything I’ve ever dreamed of!” I waved my arms as I yelled excitedly.\n\n “Yes, but you’ll run out of those things within just a few hundred years. Forever is infinitely longer than any amount of time you can even imagine. Everyone you know will be dead-”\n\n “Sure,” I cut Dave off. “It’ll suck losing you and everyone else. But people die. It is what it is.”\n\n “But not for you!”\n\n “Right.”\n\n “OK.” Dave took a deep breath, sucking all the air out of the room, then let it out. “This is the reason the idea of ‘Heaven’ is illogical. What’s your favorite video game?”\n\n “Easy, Goldeneye for the N64.”\n\n “Did you finish Goldeneye?”\n\n “Yep, finished every mission on the hardest difficulty and even earned all the secret cheats by doing the speed runs,” I said with pride in my tone.\n\n “Do you still play Goldeneye now?”\n\n “Haven’t in awhile, no.”\n\n “Why not?” Dave asked.\n\n “Well, I’ve done all I could do.”\n\n “Exactly! That’s what will happen with life in general after some time. Yes, it’ll take a very long time. But if you never die, it will happen, and then you will still have forever left to live. When I said everyone you know will be dead, I left something out. Every human will be dead, period. An extinction event will occur. Whether it’s a meteor, or the sun burning out, or whatever, it will definitely happen and then you’re by yourself. Whatever happens can’t kill you, so then you’re left floating in space or something.”\n\n “Well, that’d be cool in a whole different way,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.\n\n “Maybe. Or maybe it’ll be Hell.”\n\n “Alright, alright. Well it’s just a stupid fortune cookie, anyway. Listen, you mind driving? I’ve had too many.”\n\n “Sure, if you get the check,” Dave said with a grin.\n\n I reached into my pocket and felt a heavy mass that hadn’t been there before. I pulled it out and could hardly believe my eyes. It was a hard brick of one hundred dollar bills, folded in half once and held together with a rubber band. Dave’s eyes went wide.\n\n “Where the fuck did you get that?”\n\n “I don’t know,” I said, swallowing hard. “But I feel like I might have quite a while to figure it out.”" ]	1
	[WP] You are a serial killer. Each murder you commit adds a new voice to your head.	[ "Daring, dashing, and with a dash of cunning. That is how I operate. I like to indulge special hobbies at night... namely, murder. The face of utter despair, fear, and\ntorment is why I do what I do. The pure amusement of playing God. My victims are always full of hope because I pick them ripe and ready to face the ultimate injustice this world has to offer... death.\nToday, my victim is considered to be the pioneer and forefather of Hip Hop. Ahaha! I cannot wait to feast on his despair. His life is finally is starting to peak, but he'll learn that his peak is a climax soon enough. I approach his apartment with bold footsteps. I knock 3 times (being methodical helps) and await his answer. He opens the door with skeptical hands; a sense of hesitation surrounds him. \"May I help you?\" says the bigshot. \"Why, yes. I would like your autograph! I spent 3 months researching your whereabouts so that I could have this moment!\" He looks at me with disbelief. \"At three in the morning?!\" He exclaimed. \"Have you not heard of this saying? The early bird gets the worm!\" \"Please good sir, allow me this one request.\" The bigshot looked at me with analytical eyes and said :\" Fine, just don't leak my whereabouts to the internet.\" He signs his name on my notebook with the pen I gave him. \"Thank you, good sir, you've signed your death at this very moment.\" I strolled into his room with a jolly skip. \"What?! Are you crazy? Get out of here before I call the cops!\" Fool. He does not know that I have drenched that pen with poison that kills on contact. \"Heh, you know not of your own death. You have the world's deadliest poison on your fingertips. A quick death awaits you. Precisely... 60 seconds.\" The bigshot starts coughing blood, unable to sound a letter let alone a word. I observe his face. The euphoria of murder, how magnificent! 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The bigshot's heart stops. His entire life has led to this very moment. I leave the autograph as the contract for his death and go on my merry way. \nThe very next day, I woke up with a headache. This usually happens when I stay up working on my passion projects... however, I hear this strange sound in my head. Echoing \"Hammer... hammer...hammer.\" I have no hammers here, so what could it be referring to? The strange sounds start getting clearer and clearer, almost like a voice. \"U Can't Touch This.\" This is maddening! Touch what? Is this the kind of garbage young people listen to? \"2 LEGIT ... 2 LEGIT 2 QUIT.\" I cannot take this. I am going back to bed. I pass out with these voices chanting \"U Can't Touch This.\" and \"2 LEGIT...2 LEGIT 2 QUIT.\"", "The babbling doesn't stop, it never does. All of the voices in my head agree on one thing. This one will make them stop, then I never have to listen to the voices again. So I stand, above my mother who is sleeping. The knife in my hand feels cold and I hesitate for a moment. No, I need to do this, for the voices to stop, I think to myself, although I couldn't hear it over the other two hundred voices. They make an orchestra of terrifying noises. I pick out parts.\nShe deserves it for making...\nJust do it....\nOne more kill...\nI plunge the knife into her body and feel that it is just as cold as the knife. I flip it over and find a dummy.\n\n\"She told me you would do that,\" A voice from the corner of the room said.", "*\"Why do you kill?\"* The voice inside my head asked. The other voice in my head screamed,*\"I had a life you know!\"* I tried my best to ignore as I lurk around the bushes to kill my next target...\n\nI hate my high school. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I *despise* it. Everyone ignores me and pulls a prank on me. Well I guess this is known as bullying. My parents can not move because they work here and they wouldn't understand what my classmates are doing. They would probably say.\n\n\"Oh they're just trying to get your attention.\" or some bullshit like that. I swear they are so clueless that I am suffering because of that...Anyhow, I have printed pictures of all of my classmates (19 total) that brings agony to me for months and this is the time where karma *strikes.\n\nThere was this guy who pretend to like me and then left me in the dark, waiting in the cold and then there were a group of guys and they abused me...Moving on I simply did the same only I got him to wait in a room, tricking him that there was a pretty girl that wants to hook up with him. He's so stupid for falling for that fake email.* I walked up to him and tranquilized him. I strapped the stupid guy up in a chair tightly as I can and duct taped his mouth. Few minutes later he woke up and blinked a few times and was horrified when he saw that it was me who attacked him. As he tried to speak, I kicked him in his manhood area and he let out a muffled scream. Boy, getting revenge is fun. I'm not going to kill him quickly because that's boring, he deserves more for what he had done to me that stupid plan he had set up. I found needles in my sewing box the other night. I got my hammer and put the needle at the tip of his finger. \n\n\"No NO Mmhpease!!\" he muffled his cry and I simply ignored it and JAMMED it right in his thumb and I continued the rest of his fingers. Pulled out his fingernails like the medieval times with the torture. He was crying and screaming so loud, but it is a shame that no one hear his cries. Just like I was. Then I slashed his throat and I simply walked away with a grin leaving him to die.\n\n\"HEY! YOU KILLED HIM WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? DON'T YOU HAVE PARENTS TO TEACH YOU ANYTHING?\" This irritating female voice screamed. I simply talked back in my head.\n\n\"Well they wouldn't understand. besides this is the only beginning.\" I chuckled and thought to myself that if I continue more voices will be in my head, but it was worth the revenge. 18 more to go...", "The doctor was surprised to see his patient. Not because the patient was back in the hospital for the criminally insane that he works at, but because he was so different.\n\nBefore, he was screaming at the voices in his head, struggling against his restraints. Now, he was calmly sitting there, looking relieved.\n\n\"How are you feeling today, Simon?\"\n\n\"I'm really fine today, doc. The best I've ever been since... you know, the voices in my head,\" he said, managing a weak smile. From years of evaluating people's mental condition, the doctor knew that it was a genuine smile. However, years of experience working on crazy criminals taught him that this means that they could still be dangerous.\n\nThat and the briefing he got about the latest deeds of the patient after he escaped.\n\n\"So, how are the voices, Simon?\"\n\n\"They don't bother me anymore,\"\n\n\"So you have been taking your medication and doing the sound therapy I told you about?\"\n\n\"Nah. I always flushed the pills down the loo,\"\n\nThe doctor knows this to be true. The hospital has footage.\n\n\"So the sound therapy did it?\"\n\n\"Nah,\" he reconsidered for a bit, \"Kinda,\"\n\n\"Well, it's good that the voices are gone, Simon,\"\n\nThe patient just smirked.\n\n\"Is something funny, Simon?\"\n\n\"The voices are not gone,\"\n\n\"Then tell me how you got cured,\"\n\n\"You know how you told me that the voices wouldn't bother me if I have something else to listen to?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Well, I tried your mp3 player, but the voices in my head kept talking to me. I kept pushing the earphones in, but they could only go so far. So I put noises in my head the old fashioned way,\"\n\nThe doctor's eyes just widened at the realization that it was his words that caused the patient to do what he had done.\n\n\"I escaped from this hospital to go to the whiniest school I can find. I locked them inside and burned them alive. One by one as they stopped screaming, they started screaming in my head. Now the voices don't bother me anymore because they drown each other out, like a crowd!\"\n\nThe doctor was speechless.\n\n\"Thanks, doc. Your sound therapy works wonders.\"", "“Oh God, please don’t, please don’t,” wailed the voices in my head. I wished they would shut up for a moment. They made it hard to hear if the girl in my trunk was waking up.\n\n“Don’t do it you sick bastard.” There was old man McAvoy, shouting over the rest. I was pretty sure he yelled so loud because he was deaf. After all, he really should have heard me in the alley behind him. It had been a cloudy night and I’d tripped over a rusty trashcan, but that old coot had kept on fumbling with his keys and stopping to rummage around in his pockets like he had all the time in the world, instead of four hours.\n\nI pulled into the parking lot of the motel where I was staying and cut the engine. As I approached the trunk of the car, the wailing crescendoed. “Cut it out,” I grumbled, rubbing the bridge of my nose, “Or I’ll take it out of her skin.”\n\nAbout half the voices fell silent. The other half were too crazy to listen or too angry to care, but the volume in my head was manageable at least. “You sick motherfucker,” McAvoy railed. “I can’t wait til the cops catch ya. They’re gonna beat your sorry ass and stick you in the chair faster than…”\n\n“Faster than I can kill this girl?” I muttered, lifting her body out of the trunk. “Oh yes, that’s quite true. I’m going to kill her slow, old man, just for you.”\n\nAs I arranged the girl on the double bed by the door, a matronly voice joined the fray. “It’s not too late for you. The Lord can forgive his children any sins. Repent!”\n\n“That’s sweet of you, Mrs. Washington,” I murmured to my freshman physics professor. “But I don’t feel an ounce of remorse.”\n\nI began laying out my tools. Knives, mostly. I collected knives everywhere I went. My fingers brushed against the wooden handle of an old kitchen knife—my first knife, my first kill.\n\n“You know, Mrs. Washington,” I said. “I really have so much to thank you for. Sure, I killed Matilda before I killed you. But that was just one murder—and you don’t become a serial killer with just one kill. Especially not when that kill is your ex-girlfriend.” I shuddered. “How cliche.”\n\nI surveyed my other tools, and though my eye caught briefly on the screwdriver I’d used on the widower in Portland, I kept coming back to the wood-handled paring knife. On the bed, my newest addition to the series was beginning to wake. \n\n“I’d gut you with your own knives, you fascist pervert. Slam that screwdriver in your eye and that saw up your…”\n\n“Murderer! Murderer! Aaggggghhhhhhh murder!”\n\n“Please, James,” Mrs. Washington said again. “Your last murder can be your last. You can end this.”\n\nBut amongst the chorus of voices, I finally heard the one voice I’d been waiting for all night.\n\nMatilda said, “Do it.”\n\nI coiled my fingers around the paring knife’s handle and approached the girl cowering on the bed.\n\n", "Up the stairs, to the left.\n\nI nodded, pushed open the door, and began the climb. \n\nWould it be okay if I go next? Sarah asked, passive as ever. I could picture her before me, same as the day I first met her. Her voice sounded the same as the first words she ever spoke to me, a lot different than the last. \n\n\"Perhaps.\" I whispered back. \"Where abouts are yours?\" \n\nThere was a hesitation. \n\nNext state over. She replied. I know, I know. I just though I would ask.\n\nI shook my head slowly. \"Maybe after Jason.\" \n\nSo I'm still next? Jason asked. \n\nI nodded. \n\nThank fuck. He sighed. I've helped you out plenty you know, I think I'm real deserving of this.\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, slowly panting. \"How many floors did I have to climb again?\"\n\nFive. Giuseppe sighed. How many times do I have to tell you?\n\nI smiled. His accent really shined when he got annoyed, that and the old man in him. \n\nIt wasn't long before I found the number five painted in vibrant red on the cement before me. I looked to the door before me.\n\nRight through there. He said. His voice was quivering. \n\n\"Are you sure you want this?\" \n\nI'm sure. I could almost sense him nodding. She would want it, I'm sure. She doesn't have much without me. Hardly knows the language.\n\n\"No problem.\" \n\nUnderneath my jacket was a shoulder holster, Beretta 92 sitting snugly inside. Suppressed of course. I pulled it free, almost expertly. \n\nMake sure the safety's on. Michelle said. For god's sake make sure the safety's on, that the gun's loaded and that it won't jam. \n\nI sighed, exasperated. \"Walk me through it. I'm not used to these...\" I shook the gun, gesturing to it vaguely, \"...things.\" \n\nMichelle slowly talked me through the steps, one by one. Safety on, plenty of bullets, all ready to go. \n\nIt'll be painless right? Giuseppe asked. Please tell me it'll be painless.\n\nIt'll be fine if Jack gives him a good enough aim. She replied. \n\nHave I ever missed? Jack hesitated. Well, I haven't with you. Not yet anyhow.\n\n\"Jack.\"\n\nYeah?\n\n\"Shut the fuck up, it'll be fine.\"\n\nRight.\n\n\"Now which room?\"\n\n508.\n\nI found it soon enough. Then, holding my gun behind me, I took a deep breath. \"Ready?\"\n\nUh... yes. Yes I'm ready.\n\nI knocked, and before the minute was through, the door was opened by a short Italian woman, well into her eighties. \n\nRepeat after me: Buongiorno.\n\n\"Buongiorno.\"\n\nThe old lady, Lucia, smiled. \"Buongiorno. Come sta?\"\n\nNon c'è male, e lei?\n\nI repeated Giuseppe.\n\n\"Sto bene.\" I could sense the grin growing on this lonely old woman's face.\n\n\"Adesso, sono qui perchè conoscevo il tuo marito.\" I had no idea what I was saying, but I was saying it. Hell, Giuseppe was somehow guiding my accent, I didn't sound half bad. \n\nLucia perked up at this. \"Davvero?\"\n\n\"Si, veramente. Secondo me, lui vorrebbe dire che ti ha amato. Era un uomo magnifico, e lui pensa che tu sia una moglie perfetta.\"\n\nAdesso! Giuseppe called, almost a cry. Now, do it now. I'm ready.\n\nGo ahead. Jason whispered. You're all clear.\n\nI leveled the pistol at the Italian woman before me. As she began to react, I had Jack screaming at me. \n\nHigher! To the left! He paused, and more solemn, spoke. Now.\n\nThe was a short, blunt noise, a splatter of blood, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. \n\nNow, Jason spoke with haste. Get the fuck in there and slam the door.\n\nI did as I was told, moving quickly. \n\nPut your gloves on, and follow my directions exactly. Exactly. \n\nI heard Giuseppe cry somewhere in the back of my head. Lucia! Lucia, sei qui?\n\nGiuseppe, came a response, almost as frail and confused as it was faint. Dove siamo?\n\nSomewhere, in the recesses of my mind I heard the excited chatter of two elderly Italians, long lost and finally reunited. It almost warmed my pitch black heart. Almost. \n\n\"Sarah?\"\n\nYeah?\n\n\"Make sure our newcomer doesn't see how she got here. Give her a proper welcome.\"\n\nSomehow, I knew that she was nodding, and while she did her work, I did mine.\n\n\n\n" ]	6
	[WP] You work for a company that allows its customers to time travel. Your job is to clean up the mess that the customers are making so that history remains the same.	[ "\"So you agree? Remember, there's no way to get out of a contract with Holiday Inc.\"\n\nThey were just rambling at that point. I almost felt bad that I wasn't making this more clear.\n\n\"And then, I'm going to kill Hitler when he was born so that WWII never happened.\"\n\n\"Mmmmkay.\"\n\nThey just needed to get it out of their systems. He couldn't blame them, anyhow. Dystopia was one hell of a drug. The small storefront would serve as a way for the straggly, overwhelmed victims of the oppressive governmental tide to become the masters of their own adventures.\n\n...For a fee, of course. Holiday Incorporated's motto was that \"you're always on holiday, but you never take breaks.\" Clever, eh?\n\n\"Alright? Well, that's... wait. Do you want to kill baby Hitler or just regular Hitler?\"\n\n\"...Regular Hitler. Um, 1935.\"\n\n\"Gotcha.\" I turned some knobs and pressed some buttons. Then I called my boss and told her to activate the time machine.\n\nIn a flash, the adventurer was gone.\n\nI sighed, and walked around to the other side.\n\nOpening a box, I had a small kit. The memory-remover, the healing ray, and the flotation device. Trust me, that last one is really important. I closed the box and also stepped into the capsule-esque machine.\n\nI then activated the catchphrase with a sigh. I swear I heard my boss chuckle, despite no phone lines being on.\n\n\"Vacation's over.\"\n\n---\n\n\"Nothing's changed.\"\n\nThe traveler was back. Didn't look happy, either.\n\n\"Yeah, well.\" I sighed and shrugged. Honestly, why was it my job to deal with the rude customers?\n\n\"The whole point of this was to stop WW2. I didn't agree to the terms so that I could come back to the same hell.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well.\" I repeated, before raising an eyebrow. \"What if some other, greater evil took his place to make society how it was? How do you know the timeline you came from wasn't destroyed by your actions and you were just spit into a new one? You did use our service.\"\n\n\"This was a ripoff.\" They sputtered. \"Give me another chance. One more-\"\n\n\"Ah-ah. There were terms. Perhaps a Nazi time traveler undid your work? Whatever the reason, you're stuck here now. And the payment...\"\n\nTheir eyes widened.\n\nThat's how usually goes. I sneered lightly.\n\n\"Well, I look forward to working with you.\n\n---\n\nI have a confession to make. I've heard the title '1984' at least a thousand times, but I've never touched a copy of it.\n\nAnimal Farm was good though." ]	1
	[WP] You are part of a superhero team known as the five senses. You are ridiculed for having an unrivalled sense of taste and have to prove yourself to the other heroes.	[ "'Yes that's definitely shit,' Roger said, licking his lips slightly. \n\n'You know you didn't have to do that right?' said Barnaby. \n\n'I mean we can see that it's shit, there was absolutely no need to do that.' chimed in Ronald. \n\n'We can even smell it' added Charles. \n\n'BUT WE COULDN'T HEAR IT COULD WE?' roared Lionel. 'AND I SURE AS HELL WASN'T GONNA TOUCH IT.'\n\nRoger laughed nervously. 'It's just I never have a lot to do. Everyone is out there doing cool things like touching buildings and hearing planes take off in the distance, and all I do is grade the restaurants we go to, which even after collating the results no one pays attention to anyway.'\n\n'So you thought you'd eat shit for attention?' probed Charles, sniffing slightly. \n\n'Well, I did send everyone a group email with every CC'd but I've yet to get any replies, if you guys could check you spam folders mayb- \n\nThe groups internal sigh coalesced into an actual sigh and Roger sighed too. \n\nIt had seemed like fate that the five of them had ever been able to meet and form the world's most mediocre super hero group. That was, until they realised that they had absolutely nothing in common with each other apart from eating at upscale New York restaurants.\n\nIt was thus that the group had their first whiff of notoriety as the five had busted a five star michelin restaurant that was selling cocaine out of the kitchen, also carefully dusted over certain entrées. Roger, or Tasty McTasteFuck as he was known in the streets, had been integral in the planning and capture of the criminals, but ended up radically high, so that by the time the police had come and helped out, he was shot five times in the chest for brandishing a chicken drumstick at a cop and shouting 'EVIL GANDALF' over and over. \n\nRoger felt a need to prove himself ever since the subsequent relapse. He had been sober 3 months, a fact whose benchmark was marked by have shit in and around the mouth. \n\nSomeone cried out two blocks away, Lionel the only one turning, black outline against a setting sun, \n \n'Mom?'" ]	1
	[WP] r/Writingprompts has deluded humanity into thinking itself as a special species - whether it being the worst, best etc. When aliens do make contact with us, they have to console the equivalent of an adorable temper tantrum.	[ "All right, let's start sorting some things out guys. We know the subconscious shortcuts you evolved back in the hunter-gathering days saved your lives, but they've given rise to a lot of recurring tropes and we're going to need to put the kibosh on that before we can move on.\n\nYes, that's the first one. We're beings capable of crossing the unimaginably large gulf between the stars. Well, unimaginably large for you, that is, we're quite capable of imagining it. The point is, we're intelligent enough to speak and understand your languages perfectly. We can use slang like \"put the kibosh on\". We will not be asking you questions like \"What is this human emotion you call 'vaguely nauseous'\"\n\nYes, question from the back?\n\n\"Why /r/Writingprompts?\"\n\nTo be clear, we've got nothing against that particular place, or any particular places for that matter. It just happens to be somewhere that a lot of tropes end up being on display and exposed to a lot of people. That same exposure means that others start to contribute along those same lines, which means you'll get stuck in a never-ending cycle of seeing the same subjects on a recurring basis. That makes it ideal for our purposes.\n\nOkay, without further delay,\n\n### Clearing up misconceptions about aliens (and, for that matter, everything) that you've gained from /r/WritingPrompts\n\n* First, of course, like it says in this prompt - yes, we aliens broke the light barrier, breaking the fourth wall is not difficult - you are not special:\n\n * [You did not invent computer viruses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59wfbv/wpaliens_attack_earththey_have_weapon_superiority/). Come on, you called them 'viruses', they're clearly patterned after the natural world. Any world with anything that self-reproduces (which is all of them that harbor life) would have done this.\n\n * [Your environment is not particularly deadly](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/58xzdi/wp_earth_is_actually_the_universes_equalivant_of/?ref=search_posts) - it turns out any species capable of spacefaring had a pretty rough upbringing. Anyone who's had it nice tends to stay at home.\n\n * [You did not kill us off](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5avjc8/wp_in_the_near_future_mankind_explores_the_stars/) - I feel like I shouldn't even have to dignify that one. You can't kill us off. Like, you literally can't. You don't even have the mental capacity to conceive of how we're alive in the first place.\n\n * [We have a concept of fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57hhgd/wp_the_real_reason_weve_never_encountered_alien/?ref=search_posts) - Again, races that aren't imaginitive tend not to go to the stars or, for that matter, survive. You're likely thinking of possible races like vulcans, at which point I have to remind you about that whole 'fiction' thing.\n\n * [We will not destroy you if you don't find world peace](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59uo7i/wpan_alien_appears_on_every_television_in_the/?ref=search_posts). That'd be kind of defeating, wouldn't it? I mean, if you're not capable of world peace we don't really have to do anything, now do we?\n\n * [You will absolutely alter yourself with cybernetics and/or genetic engineering](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59545f/wp_in_the_future_we_finally_meet_aliens_it_turns/?ref=search_posts) - there are many paths to surviving in the cosmos, but none of them involve staying the same. We were like you once, and we changed ourselves to become as we are now. And hey, guess what? We've got the stars now. And that whole 'world peace' thing.\n\n * [You are not](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5a0qgl/wp_in_the_future_humans_from_different_planets/?ref=search_posts). [an elite group](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/596d3a/wp_humanity_has_to_be_put_through_a_variety_of/?ref=search_posts). See above re: the rigors of evolution. \n\n * [This person knows what's what](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5bw0cp/wp_we_finally_made_contact_with_aliens_eagerly_we/?ref=search_posts).\n\n* Let's talk about the big one, shall we? And by that, I mean the Big Guy. Now, I'm not here to dismantle your religions, okay? In fact, as far as we're able to tell, there is in fact some sort of creator of this universe. But, well... imagine how much more advanced we are than you. Now multiply that by ten because you're not actually capable of imagining that. Take that gap and multiply it by a hundred, and you'll have some idea of how advanced you need to be to create a shitty knock-off universe that only lasts a few picoseconds. Keep that in mind as we go through the following:\n\n * We live in a universe that goes unmaintained, as even you should be able to tell using the junk you've cobbled together that you call 'scientific instruments'. The creator does not intervene. This means, among other things:\n\n * [God does not kill you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57fdzv/wp_the_damned_souls_in_hell_crowded_near_the/?ref=search_posts).\n\n * [God does not curse you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/58inei/wp_a_woman_is_cursed_by_the_gods_to_kill_any_man/?ref=search_posts).\n\n * [God does not curse you and then kill you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59i9my/wp_the_gods_have_decided_to_gift_you_with/?ref=search_posts)\n\n * [God does not generate nice reports for you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57vd9h/wp_at_the_end_of_each_month_we_get_a_report_card/?ref=search_posts) or, for that matter, pay any attention whatsoever to what you do.\n\n * [He is not listening to you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5aoz8u/wp_god_answers_every_time_you_call_his_name/?ref=search_posts) or, for that matter, anyone or anything else.\n\n * [He is not angry with you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/58bfvx/wp_you_have_always_had_notoriously_bad_luck_turns/?ref=search_posts). The devil has nothing to do with it, either, but we'll get to that.\n\n * [If it weren't for the angels and the idea that God even thinks of you at all, this would be spot-on](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59ewe1/wp_an_angel_notices_god_intently_searching_for/?ref=search_posts). Do I even need to say there are no angels? I shouldn't. Just in case: No angels.\n\n * Other God-related things of note:\n\n * [God does not slum it](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5a17wt/wp_an_all_powerful_cosmic_god_has_taken_residence/?ref=search_posts). Picture yourself trying to take a vacation by sticking your finger into a pencil sharpener, then realize even that's not an accurate picture. Not only does it underestimate the difficulty of actually experiencing anything in such a diminished state, it overestimates the enjoyment of such a thing.\n\n * [The sun is not a God](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5a6y19/wp_there_is_a_vastly_intelligent_ancient/?ref=search_posts), though, fun fact! Such plasma-based things actually do live in stars. They're very useful, stars. We'll explain how if we ever get to the point where we can trade technology without you instantly destroying yourselves with it.\n\n * [He is not going to meet up with the Devil at the end of the universe to have a chat](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57399s/wp_the_end_of_the_universe_has_come_god_and/?ref=search_posts). And at this point, you're probably saying, \"Look, alien, we know all those things about God aren't true, okay, they're what-if exercises.\" And it's cute that you actually believe that. But the truth is that you're personifying forces beyond your ability to understand, and that can get downright dangerous. That's why this list exists.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a combat medic during WWI, separated from your squad and far behind enemy lines you steal the clothes and weapons off a German soldier and start your journey back to the ally front.	[ "I awoke lying in a pool of mud and blood. Blood, that which I soon realized; belonged to my fallen comrades. Alexia, Vesimov, and Ilia's lifeless expressions, mere feet away, ensured this. My left arm pained me, but this was nothing new. \n\nMy first instinct was to grab my rifle and continue to push west into the setting sun, in hopes to catch another division and continue my battle. That is when I heard the sound of morter fire and gun shots come from the opposite direction. \n\n\"We're loosing the line\", I hollered.\nStill in my animal state of war, I had no time to sympathize for my fallen brothers.\n\nAs I bolted east, thoughts of coming up behind the german line and slaughtering the pigs with ease, raced through my mind.\nSanity managed to slip through my clouded mess of a state, \"how many lives can I take before mine is taken itself, and will it be worth it?\" \n\nSuddenly I tripped over a lifeless body. As I got up, I noticed that the body was that of German \"soldier\", a high ranking one at that.\nKnowing that my 6 O'clock ambush was doomed from the start, I figured that going undercover could add to my kill count. \n\nI switched into the Germans attire, grabbed his rifle, and also his persona, as well as any Russian could. \n\nAs I neared the rear of the German front I heard their screams of war, sounding like Russian with some flem and hate mixed in a blender. \n I was yards away from the German's dig in, it apeared both sides were at a stand still, a stalemate. \n\nI began charging toward the first German in my sights, silently as one could, of course.\nI was not but 10 yards from putting my bayonet between one of the swine's vertabrate, when suddenly, a young German at my 3 O'clock position spotted me.\nTo my surprise he let out a bawl of excitement, \"Kapitan\" which was unmistakable to even the most untrained ear. I however was somewhat famirilar with the dogish tongue, due do many travels.\n\nI slid into the bank, rather than peircing the Germans backside. I thought my best chance to end lives had not come yet. I peered over the ridge to see how far my fellow soldiers had been pushed back; not a hundred yards. \n\nThe soldier, who I was formally going to kill, nudged me on the shoulder and said: \"Who shall we send to meet they're scout? It is time to gather our dead and wounded.\" I roughly translated. \n\nThis still being a common practice in the first year of the war, before the reality and brutality of what we were doing, set in.\n\nIn response, and in fear of blowing my cover, I pointed my thumb to my chest and voluntereed myself.\n\n\"I'll come with, Sir.\" voiced the would-be dead German.\nI replied only with a nod.\n\nA waving hand popped up from the opposing trench, I signaled back, hopped up onto the edge of No-mans-land, and gestured to the young German to lead.\n\nAs we neared my fellow russaian comrade, whom was of all things; a teenage friend of mine from Tilfis. Our eyes met, his wider than the pocket watch in my coat. I gestured with a sort of \"remain calm look.\"\nBut it was to late, the crazed look of my comrade caught the suspiscions of the German soldier.\n\nHe turned around to look at me, only to be greeted by the edge of bayonet inches from his nose. \n\nI couldn't kill him now, not during the ceasefire, it wasn't right and I knew it. \n\"Turn back to your men now.\" I calmy uttered in my best German.\n\nThe German, immedietly hearing my true tongue, raised his weapon in attack. \nI drew to the left and raised my bayonet deep through his intestine, and through some form of bone. The blade portuded out his back.\n\nBullets begin wizzing by mine and Yuri's heads. We bolted the 50 odd yards and dived into the entrenchment.\n\nI was back.\n\n\"Loseb! It's terrible to see you here, but great to see you in general my friend!\" Said Yuri.\nHe questioned me: \"How are you here? I mean; with your arm and all.\"\n \n\"If there is a will, there is a way, comrade! You know this Yuri.\" I responded with a cheeky smirk.\n\nJust then the Captain of Yuri's division walked up and howled: \"What are you doing in that attrocious atire, and who are you!?\" \n\nI replied: \"I fell behind enemy lines, Sir. It was my only oppurtiny to make it back. The name is Stalin, Private Stalin.\"" ]	1
	[WP] While driving you got into the habit of talking back to your smartphone's GPS. Today when you thanked it for a safe trip, it spoke back.	[ "\"Turn left ahead\" or \"go right\" were the words \nmy GPS droned every day. \nWhen my dear wife left me, my only companion \nwas TomTom, who showed me the way.\n\n\"Thanks for the help.\" I said, dreading my work, \nan eight hour cycle anew. \nGrabbing my lunchbag, I put it in park, \n when I heard \"You're welcome. ^I ^^love ^^^you.\"\n", "\"In three hundred feet, turn left on to I95 South.\"\n\n\"Right, three hundred feet...just say when.\"\n\n\"Turn left, then continue going straight for 1.3 miles\"\n\n\"Okay. Also, you have a really feminine voice for someone named TomTom, just sayin'\"\n\n\"Take exit 18 North\"\n\n\"You got it Ms. Manners.\"\n\n\"You have arrived at your destination.\"\n\n\"Great. Thanks for a safe trip.\"\n\n\"Make fun of my voice again and the next one won't be.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Genies never grant wishes the way people want, as a result they now have a customer service department	[ "\"So what did you say?\"\n\n\"So I said to him that if he ever ate from my side of the fridge again I'd set his beard on fire\"\n\n\"Damn man, that's extreme\"\n\n\"Yeah well what does he expect? He pretty much lives on cheap noodles and Nutella sandwiches to save money for a car, yet helps himself to anything nice I put in the fridge\"\n\n\"I guess, but still..\"\n\n\"But nothing, listen, I stuck a chocolate gateau in there last night - it's his favourite\"\n\n\"Well that was dumb\"\n\n\"Was it dumb to lace it with Senokot?\"\n\n\"No...\"\n\n\"Yupp, two bottles of it. He's gonna go like bleeding an old radiator, and I've put all the bog roll under my bed-\" A chirping melody cut me off mid sentence as the phone on my desk started blinking. I threw up two fingers to the small machine and rolled my eyes at Mark, who snorted derisively and turned on his wheelie chair back to his own desk, waving at me to take the call. I had half a mind to let it ring out, but hey, targets to meet. I pulled myself into my desk with a few drags of my feet, pulled the headset from on top of the keyboard and jammed it on my head, adjusting the microphone level with my mouth. It was a piece of crap really, but I dispise trying to type with a receiver clenched in that awkward cocked-shoulder-and-sideways-head-vicegrip. With the headset on, I tapped the blinking amber 'phone' button and sank further into my chair, drawing in a sharp in-take of breath for that sickly sweet voice.\n\n\"Good afternoon you're through to U-Wish, this is Steve speaking, how can I help?\" I spoke through bared teeth. We're told to smile while we talk, apparently it makes us sound more approachable. \n\n\"Hi,\" came the awkward response; male, quavering, hint of adolescence \"I recently rubbed a lamp-\" \n\n\"Okay sir, please tell me the nature of your wish and what you are unhappy with?\"\n\n\"I, well, so I rubbed the lamp right and a Genie came out, proper Alladin looking guy too,\" the caller started. Fuck! What is it with people and giving their life stories? I've heard it all before mate, I don't need to hear it again. I peeked over my shoulder to see Mark spinning on his chair, headset on and head rolling back as he listened to a similar call. As he span I raised a finger and mimed the recoil of a gunshot. He clutched his heart and had a silent seizure of pain, twitching ever slower in his imagined death throes while an indescript voice nattered in his ear.\n\n\"-So I wished for-\" Oh shit, here we go, \"whatever I touched to turn into pure gold.\"\n\n\"A unique choice sir\" I remarked as I rubbed my forehead into my palm, already knowing where this was going.\n\n\"Yeah, right?\" He sounded almost pleased with himself.\n\nNo kid, this isn't a conversation. \"So how can I help?\" I prompted him.\n\n\"Well the thing is, all my clothes are gold?\" I nodded. Naturally.\n\n\"I see\"\n\n\"Well, why?\"\n\nI blinked. Surely it's ovbious? \"Well, you wished to turn anything you touched into gold, correct?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but-\" he started.\n\n\"So your wish was granted\"\n\nI heard an aggravated sigh from the other end and grinned. I could almost feel the frustration through the headset. \"Right I get that,\" he started, \"But this isn't what I wanted. I thought it'd be like, fingertips or hand touches or something\"\n\n\"Then why did you not ask for what you wanted?\" I was toying with him now: I knew the answer, I was just waiting for him to admit it.\n\n\"Cus' I didn't know he'd be so fucking literal about it!\" There it is - Goldisocks didn't think.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, please refrain from extreme language or I will terminate this call\" Even when putting customers in their place, I have to be stupidly nice about it.\n\n\"Sorry, I'm just annoyed\"\n\n\"I can imagine that is a difficult situation sir. So how can I help?\"\n\n\"Well, can you undo it?\" he asked, somewhat impatiently. Right, because it's my fault your there.\n\n\"I'm afraid not sir\"\n\n\"What? Why not?\"\n\nCome on! \"I'm not a Genie\" I have to spell this out to a hundred people a day. The lamps need to come with a guide or something, this is the 21st Century even IKEA are doing pictionary instructions.\n\n\"Well, can't you get one to un-wish it?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately, a wish cannot interfer with another wish due to copyright infringement and intellectual property laws.. and Genie magic\"\n\n\"What-\"\n\n\"Genies are very protective of their granted wishes, they protect their work in every way possible\"\n\n\"But I'm stuck!\" the caller protested. I could just imagine it too, some idiot kid frozen in place, his frame wrapped in a gleaming gold hoodie and jeans, struggling for freedom. Wait a minute. I hit the speaker button and threw a pencil behind me to get Mark's attention. I heard a quiet whistle from behind me, signalling his attention.\n\n\"Sir, please forgive the curiosity, but how are you calling Customer Service if you are stuck in place by pure gold clothes?\" I asked politely, doing my utmost to bury the small contractions in my stomach from a building, repressed laughter.\n\n\"Well, I'm not. I've been standing here for hours.\"\n\n\"Okay but-\"\n\n\"I made the wish in town when I bought the lamp. I was asking people to help but they all think I'm a street performer - They keep dropping change in front of me!\" I had to cup my mouth with a hand, lest a gaffaw escaped. \"Like, twelve pounds in loose change by my feet\" No, no no stop please.\n\n\"A nice gal, Kirsty her name is, offered to call the number on the bottom of the lamp-\"\n\n\"-Hey there\" came a second voice, a cheery female, from the other end of the line. \n\n\"She's holding the phone for me too. She put mine to my ear first and it turned gold\" Oh God! I'm going to burst!\n\n\"And I'm in dire need of a piss\" I heard a thump and looked behind me: Mark had dropped from his chair and was on the floor, one hand over his reddening face and the other wrapped around his stomach as he roared with a muted laughter.\n\n\"So, yeah, you need to help me with this.\" I waved my hands rapidly, stifling the jollies so I could respond.\n\n\"Right, okay\" I managed, \"Best thing to do is rub the lamp again. Genies will listen to reversal petitions for 12 hours after the wish was made\"\n\n\"Oh that's great. Kirsty can you-\"\n\n\"- Please be aware though, we cannot guarantee a reversal, the verdict rests with the Genie.\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah that's fine, thanks!\" The line clicked dead. I tore the headset off and threw it at my desk with a howl of laughter, finally able to expel my pent up reaction. Mark hoisted himself onto his chair, breathing heavily as he cooled himself off.\n\n\"Fucking Genies man, they are twisted\" he croaked hoarsely as he reclined in his chair and wiped at his cheeks for the tears that had accrued. I nodded in agreement, exhaling as the internal shudders died down. Heavy footsteps sounded from down the sparsely occupied office and in a few short moments Aiden's head popped up above the partition surrounding my desk.\n\n\"Hey, guess what?\" he asked eagerly, grinning from ear to ear.\n\n\"Go on\" Mark took the bait. I leaned in eagerly, keen for more.\n\n\"So just had a lass on the phone right, complaining about her wish.\" Mark and I nodded in unison. \"She says 'Well I'm super self conscious so I asked him for the best rack in the world' right?\"\n\nMy hand unconsciously moved toward my face in anticipation. I could already feel my mouth pulling itself into a grin.\n\n\"So he grants the wish and tells her to go home. She gets in and there's a brand spanking new, self-drying plate rack next to her sink!\"\n\nI busted a kidney to that one.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP]You dumped all of your stat points into charisma hoping everyone would like you. Well they do and have formed the newest cult around you and made you their leader. This was not what you were going for.	[ "\"Praise to the lord!\" I hear them say,\n\nAs they begin a brand-new day,\n\nI can not walk away from this,\n\nI see no exits in my way.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI never meant for this to be,\n\nAt fault is my stupidity,\n\nI never should have rolled those dice,\n\nAnd ended with divinity.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nCharm was what I strived to gain,\n\nIt left me with unwanted fame,\n\nMy life is but a burden now,\n\nAs everybody knows my name.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy followers all think me great,\n\nPerhaps I'll turn their love to hate,\n\nFor death is now my one desire,\n\nI choose to disregard my fate.\n\n****\n\nStopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening* by Robert Frost was the inspiration for the poem's rhyme and structure.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You find out one day that whenever you sneeze, you turn into the opposite gender.	[ "Disclaimer: This is on mobile. \n\n\"Nooooooooo! No no no no no nooooooooooo! She's going to be here and I DON'T HAVE MY MANHOOD ANYMORE!?\" Max screams. He then quickly turns around. His thoughts are running rampant through his mind. \n\n\nWho said that? Oh wait, yeah, THAT WAS ME! It's kinda hard for me to listen to myself when my voice goes three octaves higher. Are you serious? This cannot be the most worst possible friggin goddamn motherf'in time for weird bullshit to happen. Okay, okay. Let's think Max, how and when could this had happen. \n\nSo, let's think. Alright so I sneezed last week so no then. Samantha from HR tore her pepper packet poorly the about two days ago so not since then. Wait why did she even have pepper, she had a salad for lunchNEVERMIND THAT. What about last night at the Halloween party? Wait. Are you kidding me? That's so fucking cliché. Whatever, let's think further cause I can't think of any other time. \n\nNow that I think about it, who woulda thought that crazy uptight company knew how to party. I've been working there for only 3 months and the accounting department invited me to their department party, thanks Robby. I still can't believe how fast he saw that I started to like Kim. Then again who doesn't. Her sleek black hair, slim but fit legs, the way she accentuates her slightly squinty eyes, and the ways she presents herself God! What a woman. A woman WHO'S GONNA FIND ME AS A WOMAN IF I DON'T FOCUS. Goddamit Max focus! Alright so I went into the accounting building with Robby cause it was departmental. The place was decked out to the brim with decorations. Everyone was at least wearing something along the lines of devil masks or cat ears or funny masks and all. Everyone was clearly more focused on the booze that night. And how they got that many drinks in the workplace I'll never know. Shit, getting off track. Okay, so I walked in with Robby, we went straight to the drinks, and got wasted immediately. ...fuck. Great start to retracing my steps. \n\nOkay so Robby and I got fucking plastered. Then... then... cmon brain remember. Right! Robby saw, uh, Jessica and ran off to try and score. Right! That asshole left me alone in a completely different department where I knew no one except for Kim, and I've only had small talk with her so no one. Okay, okay. So I was left alone and just stood near the drinks while everyone was mingling. Then a cute woman started to talk to me. It might've been the booze but she was looking pretty hot in that witch outfit. Wait, witch outfit... Goddamit no way.\n\nWe started talking I remember that much. We talked for quite a bit, laughed a little, and then she tried to kiss ME THAT'S RIGHT! That little minx tried to kiss me and somehow my brain overtook my dick and denied her. Yeah... yeah that's right! And when she tried again and actually got tongue in me I pulled her away! Thank you college for teaching me the importance of consent. She looked at me, smiled, and then she started mumbling something. What did she say? Goddamit what did she say!? I think it I heard; something something with please, something something a sneeze. THATS IT. THAT WHORE PROBABLY CURSED ME. \n\nDid anything else happened after that? That's right! That witch walked away quick probably mad and that's when Kim came up to talk to me. We started to talk about how that wasn't cool, consent, blah blah blah, and she asked if we could go out today and I said sure! Okay, so that's how I got a call from Kim confirming our date tonight. ...Aw man, I thought I was the one who did the asking. Oh well at least it's happening. But it probably won't go well considering I'M A WOMAN RIGHT NOW. And considering how fucking cliché this is and it's been hours since she called, she'll probably be here within seconds. \n\ndoorbell rings \n\nYup! Goddamit goddamit goddamit!\n\n\nMax, still as a woman with her D sized breasts slight swaying back and forth, walks to the door at a quick pace. \"Goddamit no wonder bras are an invention!\" Still in his date outfit of a plaid blue polo, slightly loose skinny jeans, and his good boxer briefs. Despite all his clothes now too big for his new smaller defined body, he tries to hold them up as he makes his way to the door. \n\n\"Okay if I pretend I'm a sibling, then she'll believe me right?\" Max thought as he stood behind the door. He takes a deep breath, looks through the peephole to confirm if it's Kim and it is, swallows hard, and opens the door. \n\nMax opens the door to find a young Asian woman in a long,fine scarlet woman's overcoat with a black turtleneck underneath. Despite the volume of the coat covering her body, her outline was clearly defined through the thick material. Not to mention that no one could she the bottom half of her outfit, only her long legs in black tights with high heels. Holy fuck, Max thought, if I was a man right now I would have the hardest boner right now. He did, however, feel a slight tingle for a second in his crotch area. \n\nMax stood in awe for a second. Shit, he thought. \"Uh cmon in!\" He opens the door wider to allow Kim to walk through his doorway. Kim smiled and slowly walked in with each click of her heels making their way in to his apartment. With Kim's sexy being inside Max's apartment, he closes the door behind her. \n\n\"Max will be out soon,\" Max himself said, \"he's still getting ready. Man, and girls are supposed to be the ones who take to long to get ready am I right?\" Is this too obvious, Max thought. \n\nKim stares at Max, not only at his eyes, but at his entirely new body. Almost as if she was examining him. She gives one final up and down with Max's body and laughs. What, Max thought. \n\n\"It's okay Max, you don't need to try anymore,\" Kim says with a smirk. \n\n\"Wait,\" Max says confusingly, \"what? WHAT!?\" Before he could say another word, Kim pulls out a pinch of pepper from her pocket and blows it Max's face. Max sneezes with a large amount of force. When he opens his eyes, he feels his clothes being snug on his body. He looks down at his body to find that he now fills his clothes with a bulge in his crotch area. Yup I knew it, Max thought. Relieved but confused, he looks at Kim again. She is still smiling, but this time she is slightly biting her lower lip. Max tries to speak but Kim puts her index finger over his lips. \"It'll be faster if I explain it without any questions,\" Kim says slowly. Max nods his head. \n\n\"I noticed that you took a little liking to me Max.\" Busted, Max thought. \"And I did too. I've seen you around the company's public areas and I started to like you too. But, I'm a bit a freak though. Not to mention a little crazy. You see, I'm bisexual. Not only that I'm like, 6 kinds of Asian. But that isn't that freaky part. I little before the party I wanted to see if you really wanted me, so I asked a friend of mine to be bait to test you. And you passed! I was so happy when you denied her kiss.\"\n\nMax tires to respond, \"but...\"\n\n\"Wait til I'm finished Max. So you denied the kiss and that made me give the signal to her. Thanks to a lot of 'old Asian recipes' and myths, I found out how to create a cursed powder that changes people gender when they sneeze. Only problem is that it has to be administered with one on one saliva, so my friend took the dive, got it in you, and I set up our date. To be honest, I thought I would need to make you sneeze afterwards to see what you look like. But I can see that the results were great.\" \n\nMax's head is full of confusion. So it wasn't the witch, what about the changes in my body, how long will this last, will she do more, how crazy is she... All of these thoughts and more rush through his head, but could only say, \"I, uh, don't know how to feel about this.\" \n\nKim smiles again and walks over to Max's coffee table where his keys and wallet are. \"Well,\" she says \"I told you I'm a freak.\" She then tosses both to Max and he fumbles to catch them. Kim walks to the front door, opens the door, looks at Max, and says, \"Haven't you ever wondered how it feels to be a woman having sex with another woman? Because only a freak would.\" She walks out the door, leaving it open. \n\nMax stares at the door, looks at his keys, and says, \"Well, freaks aren't all bad.\" He follows Kim out his door. \n\n---------------------------------------\nI know the end kinda sounded like the beginning of a porn, but I'm happy with the results. " ]	1
	[WP] Bear Grylls has just been teleported to a uknown planet. Now he has to survive.	[ "The first conscious thought that slipped into his mind was that it was hot. It was hot and there was a distinctive dull thumping against his left cortex. His eyes were sealed shut by some kind of crusty lining and the sound of his laboured breathing filled the silence. Grylls took a moment to pause, steadying his panting in an attempt to gather what the hell just happened; Etheridge (his cameraman) fell into a ditch, Grylls climbed down after him, a glint of silver in the corner of his eye and then… nothing. And then- this.\n\nWhen the man finally pried his eyes open, plucking out a lash or two, he became distinctly aware of the gelatinous substance he’d been leaning against. He’d been lying on a russet cocktail of coagulated blood, the metallic scent told him so, “Dan?” the weak raspy sound of his voice surprised him, “Mark, Nick? What’s going on?” No reply.\n\nGrylls turned and analysed his surroundings. If not for the glowing, crystalline gems affixed to the walls, he’d have thought he was in an ordinary cave in the Sahara. The rough sand clung to his bloodied forearms as he pulled himself upward to stand- legs felt like inanimate lead blocks and it took all the upper body strength he had to get upright, slouching against the hot cave wall. “Nick!” he called, “I’m not laughing, you bastard! Get out here!”\n\nPerhaps they’d thought it funny to dump him in the middle of the Sahara to start ‘Survivor’ with no previous warnings; the crew were probably outside laughing their arses off. He never even got to say goodbye to Shara or his kids. This was a joke. Somebody was definitely getting a slap or two when he got outside. Right then, shelter was paramount- and he needed to discern a water source. Grylls gathered his bearings and tracked down the cave entrance, stepping outside into the darkness.\n\nHe was not in the Sahara desert.\n\nAnd he was not filming for the show.\n\nThe landscape was completely barren and bizarre save for the shredded chunks of meat littering the sand. A stick-thin, tall creature jerked about as it crunched down on Nick’s horrified face. With a sickening pop, its long appendages gouged out his eye. Grylls stepped backwards slowly; he had to get back into the cave before that thing-\n\nIts neck jerked backward and oh god-\n", "\"Look, Buuuuuuearp Grylls! I don't have time for you to wrap your British walnut around everything! Just help me get some of this mega-juice.\" \nThe survivalist looked uneasy and very out of place. His three day beard and messed up hair and perplexed look was all due to him suddenly falling into this world next to this alcoholic grandfather who was not interested in surviving the wandering monsters lumbering around, but on this juice he was ranting about. Finally his training kicked in. \n\"Look, uhhhh man, we have got to fix a shelter or seek refuge somewhere. Who knows what's out here! I'll gather some sticks-\" \n\"That's planning for failure, Grylls. Even dumber than regular planning.\" chugs \n\"Please tell me there's water in that flask. You know the first 36 hours in a foreign land are the most crucial! We have to conserve our fluids and watch out for these things lumbering around! This is not safe at all!\" \nThe skinny man kept walking, lab coat trailing. Grylls followed behind, intent on trying to reason with him. \n\"Could be worse. We could be trapped on cob planet. But it doesn't matter because look! There it is! The mega-river! With the mega-juice in it!\" Grylls stopped for a moment to absorb what was going on. \n\"Look uhhh\" \n\"Rick.\" \n\"Look, Rick, I think we need to work togethuh to get out of here! Maybe if we can find the portal we came here from we can get out of here! Back when I was in paratrooper school-\" \n\"Not a place for-\" \n\"How to make shelter, defend ourselves, get food-\" \n\"The portal gun to take us back to our dimension is out of battery.\" \n\"This could be a very bad situation-\" \n\"So well have to go through inter-dimensional customs.\" \n\"Look you obviously know how to navigate this world better than I do, but my main concern is getting home in one piece.\" Grylls' British-accented monologue put an end to the overlapping argument. Rick was still walking, getting closer to the yellow river winding its way through the purple world. The liquid in it reminded Grylls of something, but he couldn't think of what. \nRick stopped at the bank of the foamy river. \n\"Buuuuurrrrppppp Ok Mor- uhhhh Grylls, this juice is super valuable for my research. But it isn't allowed in dimension C-137, where we're from. Soooo... to get by customs I'm gonna need you to do me a real favor.\" \n\"Wait were in a different dimension? How is that possible? How did I get here? Look Rick, I don't know who is in charge of space kidnappings or whatever, but the queen will not be happy about this. You need to explain something now or else-\"\n\"Ok fine. Just help me get this juice past customs and we'll get home.\" \n\"Are you serious? This is ridiculous! Where even are we right now!?\" \nRick checked his watch, annoyed at the delay. \"Looks like we're in dimension P-137. Look around. Everything you see is P-137. This is all P.\" \n\"Look, Rick, I don't know if this is a good plan-\" \n\"Look, Grylls, we have to get past customs! I need you to drink some P-137! I need you to drink some P! Do it for the Queen!\" \nRick's hands were on his shoulders, shaking him back and forth and yelling in his face. The bearded Britishman wiped vodka flavored spittle from his forehead and looked at the river full of yellow foamy liquid, steaming and swirling. He licked his lips and realized he hadn't had anything to drink in 3 days. The rest is history. " ]	2
	[WP] It is the far future and technology has prospered. Nanobots have been released into the atmosphere and those who have the knowledge to control them have gained near god-like power.	[ "Kilgor's Respite had once been a thriving, though small community, until Deathseeker All-Consuming Entropy found and despoiled the town. A novice Deathseeker, All-Consuming Entropy was still several magnitudes of power above the local law enforcement, his mastery of the Winds of Magic making him a living engine of destruction and death. The town fell in a matter of minutes, the Lawbringers torn apart and rendered into carbon and hydrogen on the molecular level. The citizens of the town tried to fight back, but none could stand up to a Deathseeker in direct combat. Master of Entropy and Death magic, Deathseekers could tear a person down into base elements with little more then the proper gesture, or turn a fertile field into ash with a wave of a hand. Even an novice could kill dozens of men in a fair fight before being felled by Burnout or Drain.\n\n\nOf course, All-Consuming Entropy might have been above mere mortals, but he was outmatched by a fully trained mage or shaman. He had been fleeing from such a person for weeks now, always just one step ahead of Seeker Kain, a full blooded Seeker Shaman that had been hunting the rouge Deathseeker ever since All-Consuming Entropy earned the attention of the Seekers Guild. Kain was a veteran shaman, an old man by Grey Wastes standards, at near sixty years old. He'd been a Seeker for almost four decades, and despite his age, his magic kept him young and spry. All-Consuming Entropy had slipped out of his Guild Hall and pillaged a trade caravan, and ever since, Kain had been chasing the teenager throughout the Grey and Black Wastes. The teenager was smarter then his age would have led Kain to believe, and so the two had danced and dueled for weeks.\n\n\nUntil All-Consuming Entropy took out Kilgor's Respite and slowed himself down enough for Kain to catch up to him that is. The teenager may have been a demigod of magical power, but he was still a mortal human under the robes and Deathseeker training. He'd gone for weeks without proper sleep or rest, his belly was empty and his throat dry from lack of water. He needed a meal, a safe place to rest and something to drink. It was his hope that he could rest for a few hours at least before he had to move on. But a few hours turned into a full night, the teenagers tired bones not letting him rise from his torpor and giving Kain the time needed to find the teenager. In the predawn hours, the Deathseeker was risen from his slumber by the tell-tale tingle of static electricity that followed all Shamans and Mages. It rattled teeth and bones, made hair stand on edge and let All-Consuming Entropy know he was dangerously close to the Seeker who was trying to kill him.\n\nThe teenager put his boots on quickly and hurried out of the house, dashing out into the chilly desert night, the pale glow of the half moon giving him enough light to see where he was going...and enough light for the spirits of Kain to find their prey. \n\nAs All-Consuming Entropy started running into the desert, panic prodding his tired bones to move as fast as possible, he heard the screech of a hunter-hawk pierce the silence of the desert night. Kain was upon the Deathseeker! The sickly green spirit tore down from on high, finding the Deathseeker and dive bombing the teenager. Before All-Consuming Entropy could even see where the hunter-hawk was coming from, he felt razor sharp claws tear into his shoulder as the spirit tore a chunk out of his arm and keep going, cawing and screeching with a mechanical voice. Blood poured from the wound, staining the sand red as All-Consuming Entropy threw bolts of Death magic at the hunter-hawk, trying fruitlessly to hit the fast moving spirit. Soon, other hunter-hawk spirits joined the first, and All-Consuming Entropy found him swarmed by the sickly green spirits.\n\nHe cut his loses and doubled back towards the house, hoping to find cover from the hunter-hawks. Even running as fast as he could he still was pecked and bitten and shredded by the angry spirits, arms and chest and head pouring blood from a dozen separate wounds as he desperately sought cover. He managed to stagger back into the house, slamming the door close and collapsing against the door as the hunter-hawks slammed into walls and windows of the house, eagerly trying to force their way in and tear the Deathseeker apart. Soon though, the hawks broke apart and formed the spirit of an Flesh Totem, a ten foot tall hulking monster of a spirit that started punching a hole right through the wall of the house. The mana that shaped the hunter-hawks had reformed into a new shape at the behest of Kain and his magic and soon had torn into the building All-Consuming Entropy was hiding in. \n\nThe Flesh Totem absorbed the bolts and blasts of Death magic with grunts and robotic cries of pain as the spirit tore the house apart, and eventually, grabbed All-Consuming Entropy and pulled the Deathseeker out of the house, tossing the bloody teenager into the sand of the Grey Wastes. The Flesh Totem was not gentle, and several of All-Consuming Entropy's ribs were shattered like glass, along with the teenagers spine and legs, bones squeezed and snapped like twigs by the hulking spirit. And again, the mana broke apart and streaked across the sky, finding Kain and his staff as the Seeker followed the hawks that he had sent out to hunt the rouge mage.\n\nIt took several minutes for the Seeker to find All-Consuming Entropy, and while the mage had tried to crawl away into the desert, with several of his broken bones, the teen had no chance to escape. He tried to muster the will to hurl a desperate bolt at his pursuer, but Kain effortlessly deflected the bolt with a swing of his massive metal staff. The grey haired shaman smiled at his battered and beaten target, a dead-eyed and joyless smile, a gesture of victory more then mirth.\n\nA series of gestures and chanted words of power, and the mana formed into a third shape. Several small humanoids, the size of children, descended on the Deathseeker and pulled the teenager apart, drawing and quartering the Deathseeker with mechanical ease. The boys screams filled the air, the once silent town now alive with the noise of torture and death as Kain paid the rouge mage back for all the pain All-Consuming Entropy had caused. Eventually though, the teen passed out from pain and blood loss, and Kain ordered his spirits to tear the boy apart and kill him. The Beholden complied and tore the Deathseeker apart, ending yet another of Kain's chases, with the Seeker victorious and his prey dead and in pieces. " ]	1
	[WP] As a real sorcerer hiding among us, you make a good living being one of the best illusionists. Very seriously you keep every trick subtle and discreet, no one ever suspected a thing. Until now.	[ "I keep my tricks simple. I have always kept. Making small props disappear and reappear, using mind control to make a volunteer do what i want in order to make the trick work. Nobody has ever suspected anything and thought I was just a really talented magician.\n\nIt was a normal show in Vegas. A big audience clapping trick after trick. Being a performer has become a routine, but yet still I always focus on my tricks, except for this one time when I let my concentration drift away. I thought the volunteer was just an ordinary crowd member until I found out he is a magician too.\n\nThe guy walks to the stage and I explain him how the trick is going to carry on. I get into the trick and pick up a deck of cards. A little mind control to make him pick a certain card which I let the audience see and think I don't know what the card is. The trick was to make the card he was holding to change while replacing it with another one. With a bit of real magic it's not a problem, except I made a mistake. I changed the card and by an accident made it be a duplicate of another card that was already in the deck. He checks his card and it has changed. I spread the rest of the cards to the table and nobody in the crowd noticed the duplicate except for the volunteer. He memorised the deck while he was picking a card and noticed something was not like it was supposed to be. Rest of the crowd applauded and cheered, but this one guy didn't. I realised my mistake in an instance but it was too late to be fixed.\n\nAfter the show he saw me giving out autographs and came up to me saying the show was great. I know he realised I'm a true magician the way he said: \"That kind of talent would most certainly make even the government interested. I wonder what kind of ace you've got in your sleeve.\"\n\n\n\n\nPlease be merciful, this is my first story ever. Sorry for any grammatical errors I might have made, I'm also on my phone, enjoy!" ]	1
	[WP]: Ten years after the collapse of a mine, an underground pocket of air is discovered at the site. Within are 15 miners who have miraculously survived being trapped for a decade. A contact is established. They do not want to be rescued.	[ "\"What in God's name happened down there...\"\n\nIt was a town tragedy, the mine. No one spoke about it. Too many spouses were lost. Too many children. My own husband never came back. So we all tried to forget about it, just move on and try to live life without thinking about the sour ending to an expedition that could have made many a family rich. At least, for a while. Not every person in this town is respectable, However, and it was hard to move on with how much superstitious nonsense rose up.\n\nIt was especially difficult to ignore now, though, with the news that had every pair of eyes glued to the screen. People have claimed the mine cursed every tunnel around it, every lost miner has been captured, on and on. I thought it was complete trash. Henry was dead. Plenty of people fell for it though, and another expedition was set to search 'for the bodies.' They had 10 years to search for bodies, this was to find something that didn't exist.\n\nExcept, it did.\n\nI put my hand over my mouth, gently rubbing the right side of my lips. That's where Henry had a scar. I used to feel it as I kissed him. It was such a defining feature that I memorized how it looked exactly. \n\nOn the screen, a short blip of footage is being played again and again. I can feel panic rise as a reporter urges people to stay safe. There was something in the mine. Something that wasn't human. An interview is done with the volunteers, the ones who are willing to relive their experiences in front of everyone. A small clip of something chasing after a volunteer, then veering away as light is shone on it. There's shouting after it, but it's gone. Replayed. Chasing, and fleeing. Chasing and fleeing. Gone again and again. I focus on the clip more than the words coming out of the mouth of the volunteer, because I see it.\n\nA long, jagged scar, attached to the right side of the most grotesque thing I've seen in my life." ]	1
	[WP] You're sitting on the toilet. As you pull down the toilet paper, a secret trap door opens just in front of your legs.	[ "Jones had to go back to his office to get his phone. He only used it to listen music and as an alarm, but the simple man's holy chair was worth nothing without the almighty internet compressed into a small device. \"Smashed Obama and his whole family against the porcelain, after drinking coffee.\" He wrote to the telegram group 'Club Tropica'. Vitalijh, answered in the blink of a second: \"I only have to send some fax in the morning if I had breakfast, which means never.\" Timo, the third in the group didn't read the previous messages and just sent a picture of his new watch. Upon enlarging the picture Jones saw Timo's penis saying 'hi' at the bottom. All this stupidity was too much for Jones, who dropped his phone laughing. It was a cheap smartphone, worth only $80 with a flashing orange cover. The bright salmonlike-color was easy to spot, but it was gone. He bent over to look below the wall, checking both sides. Only then he noticed that the black spot between his legs weren't tiles, but a hole. 1metre large and 2 metres long. Jones formed a ball out of toilet paper and tossed it inside. The ball unfolded and glided down the hole with the beauty of falling autumn leaves. He cleaned his butt, flushed the toilet, stuffed his underwear with toilet paper and threw it down as well. He never liked wearing underwear. At home, both he and his wife were mostly naked. \n\nA spotlight seemed to shine from below at his underwear as it unfolded with the toilet paper and glided into nothingness. Jones was hypnotized and the urge to 'fall' into the hole naked and in the fetus-position overcome him.\n\nA warm wind uncurled his arms and legs in slow motion. He couldn't force them in any direction. The wind took over his body. Only his dong was not affected. He managed to glimpse at it for a split-second before getting flashed by the same light that illuminated his underwear. \n\nHe closed his eyes and opened them again to find out tgat he was wearing a wingsuit; gliding in formation with flying squirrels. The maple trees below had the color of every orange and reddish tone he saw at last year's burning man. They formed an alley with a crystal clear river in between.\n\nJones made a sharp left turn to fly through the crack amid two clouds. The whole formation followed him suit. He was amazed at how the distance between the squirrels didn't even change an inch. \n\nAgent Skippy squeaked behind him: \"Commander Jones, we lost contact to Area 51. Please return to Base.\" Jones interchanged looks between the squirrels and the mountains in front of them. The river and maple trees didn't end at the mountain's foot, instead they spread upward and turned into a forest of what looked like brown bamboo with big leaves. \"Agent Skippy to commander Jones, agent Skippy to commander Jones. We are entering unknown territory. Please return to Area51.\" \n\nJones realized that the brown bamboo was in fact not bamboo and headed straight to it, with increasing speed and the smile of a kid, who received a Nintendo64 for christmas. \"Here commander Jones. My friends, believe me, Today you will bust more than just a nut.\" The squeaking became louder and Jones couldn't understand what everyone was saying. _This is the moment to see how disciplined they are._ He performed a double backflip and bowed to the hazelnut forest. \"Congratulations fellow agents. Your flying and landing was on point today.\"\n\n\n___________________________\n\nHope it's not too NSFW-ish. \n\nE: typos + grammar\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] As the greatest knight of the kingdom, you have always dreamed of living a more peaceful life with no fighting. One day you wake up to some older woman yelling you're late for school.	[ "(Hope you don't mind if I reply with the second part to this)\n\nI entered my chambers in the King's palace. I looked around at the luxurious interior of my temporary living quarters and nodded in approval. Being the champion of the great kingdom of Norwaldia had its perks.\n\nYet, I felt myself slipping into thoughts more somber on this ordinary day. I walked over to the large bucket of lukewarm water that had been left out for me. A dirty looking sponge lay next to it on the floor.\n\nI took the bracers off my arms and began the drawn out process of cleaning the blood from them. I got through the smaller pieces of armor first; they were easier to clean. Then came the chest piece, the legs, and so on.\n\nBy the time I reached my cot, i was already asleep on my feet.\n\nI dreamt of peace and times where war was not a daily occurrence. Yet, even in imagination, peace was short lived; my dreams were rudely interrupted by a shrill voice, sounding like daggers scraped against a stone pavement.\n\n'Get up Gaylord T. Booker! You're going to be late for school!'\n\nThat was not my name, and what an absurd one at that! I rose from my bed, fury coursing through my veins, determined to give this woman a piece of my mind.\n\nTBC" ]	1
	[WP] A hardcore masochist dies and goes to Heaven. However, they really, really want to go to Hell....	[ "Hamish took one look at the pearly gates and sighed. What had he done to deserve this?\n\nIt'd been a particularly dreary English afternoon when he'd finally gone the whole way. Sitting on his couch he had stared out his apartment window onto the bustling streets below. His eyes were unfocused as his mind wandered aimlessly from thought to thought. Slate grey clouds flooded the sky above, pounding out rain onto the streets below. It ran in rivulets down the glass, making quick evolving patterns. A bit giddy from this unusually intense session, he giggled.\n\nHe looked back down at his forearms, as they drained into the bucket he had at his feet. The skin was a mangled mess of shredded meat and blood. Despite all his care to make sure he'd not spill any he'd still gotten some on the tiles around the bucket in a small smattering of droplets. It would appear that in the brief relief of cutting himself, he'd not paid enough attention to the blood. \n\nAnd that had been enough of a reason for him.\n\nSo now, after committing the most cardinal of sins, he'd ended up in heaven. How the hell had this happened? The whole point had been to end up in eternal suffering. Though in truth (and he would never admit this to himself), it was partially to avoid the cleaning up. He hated clea- \n\n\"WELCOME TO HELL.\"\n\nThe sentence bashed through his thoughts. The word hell seemed to resonate like the end of a gong being hit. It was a few moments before he responded.\n\nHamish offered timidly, \"Uh... I-uhhh... I'm here about a suicide?\" to nobody in particular.\n\n\"AHH YES. HAMISH ANDERSON. 24 YEARS OLD, STUDIED AT BRIGHTON BEFORE DROPPING OUT TO BECOME AN IT TECHNICIAN AT A LOCAL ALL-GIRLS SCHOOL. FAILED RELATIONSHIP WITH ONE ELAINE YAKOVIC. SUICIDE BY -\"\n\n\"- umm excuse me. I was just making sure I'm in the right place? It looks a lot like heaven, but you just said it was hell, and I must say I'm a bit confused about the whole thing seeing as I only just died...\"\nHamish wasn't sure if he was being heard. \n\nA few more silent moments passed before he worked up the courage to continue. \n\"...I guess what I'm trying to say is that, if this is hell... and I am about to be sent to my eternal punishment... could you - you know - get on with it?\"\n\n\"IMPATIENT ALSO. VERY WELL, HAMISH.\" And with that, the pearly gates parted and Hamish trekked across the clouds.\n\nOnce through the massive imposing gates, Hamish noticed far off in the distance what appeared to be a man seated at a desk. Driven by curiosity, Hamish made it over to the man. As he got nearer he saw the man was bald, wearing a white business shirt and black tie. His face was set in a concentrated frown, as he stared at the monitor. It wasn't until Hamish was a few feet away that he saw the monitor was blank. It was then that the bald man looked up, the frown fading away to a pleasant smile. \n\"Ahh, thank god you're here - the bloody thing won't turn on.\"\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a tech support agent for a galactic services firm specializing on providing uplift to class one civilization services for low tech worlds. It's Friday at 3:45pm and you just answered a call from the little backwater world, earth.	[ "\"Good afternoon, you've reached Intelligence Solutions, IT department. My name is EJ-90, how can I help you today?\n\n\"Hi, this is Ted... from Earth?\"\n\n\"Hi Ted, how can I help you today?\"\n\n\"So, the government gave us these IQ enhancers, like, these giant-ass machines? I'm ready to use mine, but I was required to make an account to sign in, and I, uh, forgot my password.\"\n\n\"No problem, I'd be happy to reset the password for your system. I just need a couple details, first. For your Intelligence Uplift system, do you own the CR model or the SW model?\"\n\n\"I'm... not sure?\"\n\n\"Ok, does the containment unit - that is, the area that you stand in - have a diameter width of 2 meters or 15 meters?\"\n\n\"Again, I don't know. I don't have a ruler on me.\"\n\n\"Let me ask this, then: in your model, would you be able to fit a fridge in it? Or a... very, very large fridge?\"\n\n\"I could probably just put a fridge inside that glass-looking area. Am I supposed to put a fridge inside?\"\n\n\"No, that won't be necessary, thank you. Just looking for a reference for size. Now, would you happen to have your 20 digit ID number?\"\n\n\"Yes I do, the missus had me write it down.\"\n\n\"Great, simply put in that number using the number pads on your communications device.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Wonderful! Now, Ted, I can see that you've already received an updated password from four previous password requests. Have you tried inputting that password before?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have.\"\n\n\"And did an error come up on the screen?\"\n\n\"No, it did not.\"\n\n\"Then what appeared on the screen when you input the password?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Okay, what information was on the screen as you were entering the password?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"...Ted, the state that your screen is in now, is it the same as when you were entering your password?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What is showing on the screen right now?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Okay, the next step will be to check the auxiliary energy converter, around the back-\"\n\n\"The what?\"\n\n\"The power cable. It should be connected to a reliabl-\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm waiting to plug that in.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry? I... didn't quite hear you.\"\n\n\"I hadn't plugged that in yet. No sense in suckin' down power for a machine that doesn't work.\"\n\n\"...One moment, please.\"\n\n[easy listening music]" ]	1
	[WP] In the year 2187, scientists have found a way for people to transfer, or give others their fears if both people accept. You are paid to take other people's fears.	[ "She leans back in her chair, throwing her dirty combat boots up on the table. It’s not my table, and I know won’t be expected to clean it, but I still wince.\n\n“Alright, here’s what I don’t do.” She counts the items off on her black-tipped fingers. “One, heights. I live on the fifth floor, and I don’t need that shit. Two, snakes. I have a ball python. His name is Charles. Three, people. Having social anxiety, with this job? Not gonna fly.” She spreads her arms out to either side. “Other than that, you’re golden. Hit me.”\n\nI glance over at the one-way mirror. I like to imagine the folks behind it are all in lab coats, pens poised above their clipboards, ready to record my response. It makes me feel important.\n\nThat’s how they get you with these experimental procedures. Take a risk, be a frontrunner! And please sign these forms so your family can’t sue us when you end up brain-dead.\n\n“You hear me, prima donna?”\n\nI turn to face her, frowning. “I don’t sing.”\n\nShe snorts. “It’s L.A., sweetheart. If you’re not a struggler singer, you’re a struggling actress. And with a face like yours?” She smirks as she places her hands behind her head. “I’d say you’re both.”\n\nI squirm uncomfortably in my chair.\n\n“I’m gonna take a wild guess, sugar tits, and you tell me how close I get. You moved here with a big dream, thought you were gonna take Hollywood by storm. You spent all your cash on that boob job--which is really nice work, by the way--but it’s been a few months, and you got fuckall to show for it. So you come here, sign up for some shady gig to earn a few bucks and hope you don’t end a drooling vegetable at the end of it. How’d I do?”\n\nThe room is dead silent for a long moment before I tell her, “I’m an acupuncturist.”\nShe snorts again, and it turns into full-blown laughter. Her boots hit the ground, and she doubles over in her seat. “I’m an acupuncturist,” she repeats, wheezing. “Oh, Jesus fuck. Mary’s tight virgin cunt, that’s hilarious. Acupuncturist.”\n\nI shoot a pointed look at the mirror. “Can we just get on with this?”\n\n“We’re waiting on you, sweetheart.”\n\n“Oh, that’s right. My apologies.” I clear my throat. “I’m afraid of birds.”\n\nShe twists her mouth. “All birds? Even like, pigeons and shit?”\n\nI nod.\n\n“Damn.” She clicks her tongue, jerking her head to the side. “Okay, I’ll do it.” She looks at the mirror and shouts, “Hear that? Come put the things on her face!”\n\nThe ‘things’ are electrodes, and that’s as far as I get into the explanation before they lose me. I just nod, hoping I can pay my bills this month and retain normal brain function. Most people in L.A. aren’t lucky enough to have both.\n\nWhen we’re both hooked up, the scientist--he’s in jeans and a Weird Al T-shirt, not a lab coat in sight--tells us one last time not to move during the procedure. He fiddles with the contraption on the table, and it’s over before I know it.\n\n“That’s it?” I ask, brow furrowing as he removes the electrodes.\n\nHe shrugs. “It’s a fairly simple procedure. We’ll contact you for follow-up.”\n\nUnderwhelmed, I adjust my bag and head for the door. Before I go, the girl in the chair shouts to get my attention. I pause with my hand hovering over the knob and turn around slowly.\n\n“Want to grab a drink?” she asks. “I know a dive with the best motherfucking pickles you’ve ever tasted.”\n\nI stare at her open-mouthed for a moment before pivoting and turning the knob. Just before the door closes behind me, I hear her shout, “I have a motorcycle! And a strap-on!”\n\nI run a hand through my hair as I head out into the L.A. smog, shuffling in the colorful crowd. At least my rent will be on time this month.", "Dr. Rembar slapped the metal cap onto Harold's head and began to turn the screws. Harold only felt a slight pressure, as Dr. Rembar had warned, as the screws pierced his temples.\n\n\"Is the process normally this invasive?\" Harold asked numbly. Something was making his tongue feel swollen, and he was having trouble enunciating properly.\n\nDr. Rembar lowered his head to look Harold in the eyes.\n\n\"Normal?\" The doctor said. \"My God, man. What made you expect something normal?\" He stood straight again and finished screwing the cap into Harold's head then grabbed the mess of wires coming from the cap and started jamming them into a panel on the wall. Harold stared into the screen across the room from him where his bio and brain activity sprang up.\n\nHarold Scott\nAge: 33\nHeight: 6' 1''\nWeight: 86 kilograms\nConviction: Murder of the first degree\nYear sentenced: 2177\nMental Health: Fit for imprint.\n\nHe didn't understand the rolling wave pattern that was supposed to represent his brain activity, but it looked a little too... wonky to him. Sort of unevenly spaced and maybe a little slower than it should be.\n\n\"Doctor, I think something is wrong.\" The words came out in a groggy croak like Harold had just woken up from a deep sleep.\n\n\"Something is always wrong. That's what we're trying to fix.\" Something crackled behind Harold, and he was almost positive it was the sound of sparks bursting out of the panel.\n\n\"Could you just look at this screen and make sure?\" Harold asked.\n\nThe sparks and grunting behind Harold stopped suddenly.\n\n\"Look at the what?\" The doctors voice became low and raspy.\n\n\"The screen. My brain readout looks weird.\"\n\nA screwdriver flew against the wall right next to the screen.\n\n\"This isn't normal, this other thing is weird,\" the doctor mocked. \"What to do you know about weird? You drowned someone in a toilet bowl.\"\n\nHe stormed over to the desk on the other side of the room and picked up a file. A paper file, Harold couldn't help noticing. Harold hadn't seen paper since summer camp in 65.\n\n\"What the hell am I supposed to give you again?\" Dr. Rembar ran his finger down the paper. His head shook while he read, and he held the file close to his face, completely blocking his vision of the screen where it clearly read 'Loaded Imprint: Heliophobia.'\n\nDr. Rembar slammed the paper down. \"Fear of light!\" He yelled. \"Damned inconvenient for a politician.\"\n\nHe walked up to one of the sealed doors leading to the other operating room, where presumably, hopefully, the other person was hooked up to the same system.\n\n\"He's pale too. Looks like someone off one of the lunar cities. There's some kind kind of symbolism for you!\"\n\n\"Oh my God, he's mad,' Harold thought. 'A mad scientist just screwed a metal cap to my head and hooked me up to the prison power grid.'\n\nThe wave form showing Harold's brain activity sped up while Dr. Rembar walked to Harold's chair. He reached under into the tangle of wires looping around the base. Harold didn't know this many wires still existed on this planet. The doctor yanked one of them loose then took something out of his pocket that looked almost like a syringe but with one end made to plug into an outlet. Dr. Rembar stripped the insulation off the wire and wrapped it around the bottom of the syringe.\n\n\"Let's just add a little more to the load, yeah?\" The doctor circled the syringe toward his forehead like he was searching for the right spot then suddenly stabbed it through just above his right right eye.\n\n\"Look at the screen over there, Mr. Scott, and tell me if something else appears.\"\n\nHarold focused on the screen, but his vision was getting blurry. He could just make out the new word that appeared under 'Loaded Imprint.\"\n\n\"What is digiphobia?\"\n\nDr. Rembar picked up two loose connectors lying on the ground and brought them close.\n\n\"It's your problem now.\"\n\nHe jammed the connectors together. Sparks shot out of the wall panel again, and Harold's brain readout turned into a tidal wave. Numbers flew by at a blistering speed and it seemed like all the symbols on the screen were making his heart rate increase. If they kept going he would surely have a heart attack. He looked away from the computer screen and found one of the lights in the roof. A horrible, cold blinking thing that was trying to suck all the sight out of his eyes. The heart rate bottomed out, and his vision blurred and finally went dark.\n\nDr. Rembar stood up and carefully pulled the syringe out of his head, letting a drop of blood crawl into his eyebrow. When he saw Harold wasn't moving he grabbed his arm to check his pulse. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at the computer screen.\n\nHe felt nothing.\n\nThe doctor smiled as he walked to screen and scrolled through the history of the brain read out.\n\n\"Looks like you were right, Harold. Something was weird. Those idiots in prep wouldn't know a healthy brain from a well-baked potato.\"\n\nHe walked to the sealed door and looked through the window.\n\n\"Well, it looks like the other patient survived, so I guess it all turned out alright.\"", "\"I mean how bad can that really be?\" I thought to myself, pondering if I was willing to accept this contract.\n\n\"6 billion credits will be enough for me to buy anything I wanted, hell, I could buy my own island and pass the time sitting on my own private beach.\" In this day and age most people don't even get to see a beach what with the polition and all.\n\nMy inner dialouge had ended. Enough thinking about it, I stared the well dressed man in the eyes. \"6 billion credits?\" I asked to confirmed. \"Is it not enough? 7-8 whatever just.... please I can't do it anymore.\"\n\n\"2 billion credits just for asking a question? Now I am definetly doing this.\" I thought before extending my hand. \"You have yourself a deal!\"\n\nThe contract was signed, it was done. As they began to hook the machines up I started thinking of all the things I wanted to buy first. The doctor told me to count backwards from 8 and the anesthetic would take effect. \"Fitting number\" I thought as I drifted off to sleep.\n\nWaking up I felt..... different.....hollow. All of my thoughts terrified me. What I once dreamed about spending the money on riddled me with guilt. Absolutley everything about myself I hated. I finally understood why he gave me this money, and why he didn't care giving it to me. I was also begining to understand where this fear came from. \"I'm sorry\" he looked at me one final time. \"The fear of yourself is something you never get used to, I never used to be this way, I just hope you can find someone to take this from you before it takes full hold.\" \n\nHe left the room as I stared until the last piece of his coat was visible. I wasnt the first person he had done this too, and I won't be the last. For him this was just a temporary relief at a hefty price. He was the CEO of the largest company on the planet, and as it turns out, the only thing his never ending revenue couldn't buy was self forgiveness for how he earned it. ", "Phobia collecting is a lucrative job, Neeraj. I know it sounds, well, scary to most people - sorry, I joke - but like with any job, it just takes some lifestyle adjustments.\n\nLet me start by clearing up some common misconceptions. You get to choose your clients and what jobs you pick up, meaning you have full agency over what phobias you collect. This often results in different \"types\" of phobia collectors, or PCs.\n\nFirst, there's Alpha-type collectors. Alphas specialize in one or two particular phobias, and will specifically seek out and market to prospective clients seeking to transfer a phobia of that PC's specialty. The thing is, collected phobias stack in intensity. You'll find that this results in Alpha PCs who live out their life fully outside the realm of that phobia, or at least, as separated from it as possible. For example, an acrophobia collector (that's the fear of heights, Neeraj), would likely live out in the midwest, where the flatest lands exist, nary a skyscraper to be seen. Most in this field will aim for the niche, rare phobias, but the daring will take the extra money to collect fears of women, the color yellow, or even the letter Y. You hear many articles about the creative ways that these men live in luxury while still getting by in life.\n\nBut that's not for everyone. As you might guess, Gamma collectors diversify their collections across a wide variety of phobias. They'll pick a little bit of fear of spiders, some fear of the dark, some fear of clowns, and so on. It's an entirely respectable field, and much easier to control for, but Gammas often quickly run into a ceiling - there's only so many kinds of fears in the world, and only so much of a particular fear that a Gamma is willing to accept.\n\nNow, as I've been hinting at, not every phobia on the market has the same price. Costs for fears are based on two factors: rarity and intensity. Fears that are more common, more prevalent, and harder to avoid - like fear of the dark, fear of public places, or even fear of leaving the house - all have a higher cost than, say, a fear of Donald Trump. Who's Donald Trump? That president from early 2000s? Exactly. And intensity, well, makes sense - greater fears mean higher value. This system does wonders for people with intense, yet niche fears that others can't relate to.\n\nSo you might've heard criticisms about PCs, saying that our industry is negatively impacting clinical counseling. People are worried that, if the average joe pays money to no longer have fears, where's the money for therapy go? The answer is that we use it in therapy sessions. That's right, many of us PC's include therapy in our business model, by regularly working with therapists to overcome our fears the good 'ol fashioned way. In fact, with so many of us full-time PC's regularly attending therapy appointments, we've become experts in overcoming fear. This not only ensures that we keep the clinical counseling profession alive, but we also more efficiently deal with the process of overcoming fears quicker. We get fears out of society through phobia collection, Neeraj!\n\nSo yeah, in my experience, it's a wonderful job that supports a wonderful cause. Of course, you're welcome to treat it as a side-gig like many people do, but if you're dedicated, you can make a lucrative career out of it. Give it some thought. Anyway, thanks for coming by to talk. Oh! And if you wouldn't mind, please ask the secretary to lock my door on your way out. I don't want gnomes coming in to steal my things. Thanks." ]	4
	[WP] A famous writer goes back to his gritty urban roots.	[ "\"George, can you tell me the thing again?\" asked Lennie.\n\n\"I told you it countless times you big oaf, how 'bout you start?\" said George.\n\nLennie begins reciting the dream he and George share, he has it memorized he just likes hearing George say it.\n\nGeorge breaks open his double-barreled shotgun and loads a shell in each barrel, he closes the shotgun and raises it towards Lennie.\n\nGeorge waits a few moments and finally yells \"Lennie, duck!\". \n\n\"Where?!\" asks Lennie excitedly.\n\n\"Drop to tha floor Lennie! Now!\" yells George.\n\nLennie collapses face first into the pond water, George fires one shot, then the second. Two bodies slide down the small muddy slope and into the pond next to Lennie, he sits up a little bit and can clearly recognize one as Curly, but the other one's face was torn up from the buckshot so Lennie couldn't recognize him, blood slowly starts turning the water around the bodies pink.\n\nGeorge pushes the lever on his shotgun breaking it and dumps the two hot and smoking emptied shells out of the barrels and into the pond. He grabs two more shells from his front pocket and shoves them into the barrels, before closing the shotgun and aiming back up at the opening in the bushes where the two men he shot came from.\n\nAfter a second Slim shows up in the clearing, he looks horrified as he sees the lifeless bodies of both Curly and Carlson with blood seeping out of them into the now murky red pond water. He aims his .38 revolver at George, while his face turns stern. \"Why would ya do this just because of some fuckin' simpleton,\" he says gesturing at Lennie, \"I thought you were a decent man George, goddamn was I mistaken.\"\n\nSlim pulls back the hammer on his revolver. \n\nGeorge hesitates.\n\nLennie flinches as he fires Curly's .32 revolver, smoke exits out of the cylinder and barrel and dissipates. Lennie looks horrified as Slim's limp body falls over and rolls down the slippery slope splashing into the pond spraying bloody pond water into Lennie's face. Lennie drops the revolver into the water and starts crying.\n\n\"'Cause he's all I got and I'm all he's got lef' in this world.\" whispers George." ]	1
	[WP] 71 years after the end of the World War II, you are the pilot that drops the bombs that start the World War III.	[ "Life wasn't always like this. I didn't always have my finger on the button that could potentially wipe out the entire human race. Believe it or not, life used to be simple at one point or another. \n\nThe fate of humanity wasn't always at my fingertips. I used to be a chef. Different times, different place, different world. Things weren't black and white back then, literally. Since the dawn of what has come to be known as \"The Colorblind Era,\" we've lost our ability to view color. Not just some of us, or newborns, or old, or young, every human being on Earth can only view the world in black or white. Now, that doesn't necessarily mean all living things. Tests were done early on that may have indicated that animals still saw color, but they were never proven one way or the other. Rumors to give hope if you ask me. One thing that came along with the new times was the disappearance of racism, which I'm sure you're thinking is a good thing. Well, what replaced it was worse. A side effect to the colorblindness was what we now refer to as 'extremism,' and refers to the fact that you are either black or white, and that color which is viewed by others is not just shades of gray as you may have seen in the old films, but almost flat black or white. Race prior to the event also didn't seem to have an effect, some who were considered 'white' before were now as black as night, and vice versa, those who would've called themselves black were now almost shining they were so white. Features were the only things which gave some contrast in the color, but only barely and only in the right light. My opinion? It was just shadows playing tricks on our minds to try to make sense of this whole shit show. \n\nWhy was this happening? We have no idea. All we know is that about 9 years ago, the first person to have experienced the phenomenon woke up colorblind. From that exact millisecond forward, every person who woke from sleep experienced the same thing. Once word spread, people who hadn't fallen asleep yet did all they could to stay awake and preserve their colorfilled world. Up until that point, there were no recorded deaths due to sleep deprivation. Your body would simply shut down, put your ass to sleep, and you would wake up some time later. That wasn't the case any longer. People died... and eventually, all of humanity was color blind. \n\nThe most accepted explanation for what color you were after the change was, like lots of things in human history, tied to religion. If you were a believer in some form of creator, you were black, if you strongly believed all this shit was just some fuck up turn of events through evolution, you were white. Was this true? Who knows. People claimed to have varying beliefs, but most of the time, when asked, someone who was white would say they didn't believe and someone who was black did. (If you're into history, it's worth noting that there is plenty of evidence to suggest that before this theory was widely accepted, the correlation between religion and a person's color wasn't as apparent. Reports suggest that responses were much more varied at the beginning compared to present day.) \n\nRegardless, this threw humanity into the biggest us versus them situation we had ever dealt with. Segregation was a thing again, only this time entire countries claimed allegiance to one side or the other and took to quickly and swiftly deporting anyone not of their government's chosen alignment. What religion you identified with didn't matter at this point, either you believed or you didn't, and realistically that didn't even really matter either… at this point in history, you were either a white affiliate or a black, and for lack of a better term, there was simply no gray areas. \n\nAs you can probably guess, things escalated, countries waged war against the \"Non-believers\" or the \"Believers\", the Whites or the Blacks. Treaties were signed, alliances were made and overall, Humanity was on a run away train. And that brings us to me and this moment. A lowly old Chef who was drafted into our allegiance army due to my excellent hand/coordination skills (who said being good at video games was worthless? Take that Ma!) and put on the fast track to aviation pilot. These days, planes are not physically manned, but controlled by those of us hundreds of miles away in a bunker somewhere, eating our Cheetos and drinking our Mountain Dew. (Just kidding… Mountain Dew is owned by the blacks.) I was given a mission packet this morning labeled \"Jughead\" and told to keep my head down, stay focused, and \"do your damn job!\" It was a weird thing… not getting a mission, or being told to hold my focus, but to be told to keep to myself and to do my damn job was unordinary. I'm one of the best in the room and I've never botched a mission or lost a plane. Part of that is due to my ability to use my fellow pilots to my advantage, gaining knowledge and positioning myself in a way as to avoid getting blown the fuck up. (Yes. I used my coherts as shields… get over it.) Quickly I found out there was something… different about today's mission. I saw much more opposition on the way to my checkpoint above a recently captured island off the coast of Asia. I had only one other plane in the air with me, which was at a much higher altitude and which we referred to as a spotter. His primary objective being to do just that, spot the bad guys before they got anywhere near me. As I got closer to my drop point, things got hairy. I had to fight my way threw a ridiculous amount of other fighters, but when I was about a mile out from the objective, all opposition had disappeared. Minutes before I got to my drop point, there was static in my headset. I attempted to contact my spotter, but received no response… that was until I heard her voice. \"Pilot… Sir. I'm not sure who you are or where you're located. I don't know anything about you, or your family, or your past. But I can tell you I know about your future. If you hit that button and release your payload when you're told to do so… it will be the end. We don't have a lot in common I'm sure. I'm black. You're white. And as we all know, there is no gray area. Except… there is. What is beyond those colors is humanity. Skin. Bone. Organs. Heart. And what some believe, a soul. I'm telling you right now, if you drop that payload it's over. Your commanding officers have loaded you with the most deadly weapon in human history. You're not just carrying another bomb. What you've got in that belly is infinitely more powerful than the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They won't just destroy that little island. They consume the water around it. The blast and fallout will reach thousands of miles away and despite what your commanding officers think, this WILL land on White territory. It will kill millions of us. Not us as in Black's. Us, as in human's. And the recourse? We may not have a bomb that is as powerful as Jughead, but it's almost there… and it will be the only option the alliance has. They will retaliate. They will strike back. And it won't be you, but they, who ends humanity as we know it. Think about that.\"\n\nAnd then the line was dead… \n\n((Fun fact. I wrote that introduction 3 years ago after a dream. https://imgur.com/gallery/dN0Vy ))", "I can't believe it. I remember being 32 years young and fighting the Nazi's for the good of the world. And here I am, doing it all over again.\n\n\"Arnold? .. ARNOLD! Snap out of it! Stop day dreaming! We have a mission to carry out, here!\"\n\n\"A what now?\"\n\n\"The mission. You're currently piloting a bomber, Arnold. You realise this, right?\"\n\nThe young kid to my left spoke sense. Here I was, piloting a bomber again. What a thrill. I hadn't done this kind of thing since I fought the Nazi's. 26 years young I was. And here I am doing it all over again.\n\n\"This is Red Fox to mission control.\"\n\n\"Mission control we copy.\"\n\n\"Sir, I think this is a bad idea.\"\n\n\"What's a bad idea?\"\n\n\"Choosing Arnold for this mission, sir. The man is over 100 years old. He's shit himself and won't stop talking about the Nazi's.\"\n\n\"He's the best we've got, god dammit. That man fought in World War 2. He's a god damn hero.\"\n\n\"I didn't want to to tell you this but he stopped to accuse a helicopter of treachery on the walk to the jet, sir.\"\n\nArnold spoke up, \"Son, did I ever tell you about the time I fought the Nazi's?\"\n\n\"He's talking about the Nazi's again, sir.\"\n\n\"The year was some time in the past somewhere. I was 19 years young and fresh out of boot camp. Betty Boop was the hot ticket and everyone was being forced to dance the goose step.\"\n\n\"ARNOLD! THE CONTROLS!\"\n\n\"Oh don't worry about that, son. They have all kinds of fancy fandangles on these space age computer ships. When this is all finished, can you help me fix my phone? I think it's broken because my son can't seem to call me anymore.\"\n\nSirens began to blur in the cockpit. The co-pilot struggled to regain the controls as he leaned over Arnold in an attempt to reverse whatever it was he had done or pressed.\n\n\"Mission control, mission control, we're going down!\"\n\n\"You know what this reminds me of? Fighting the Nazi's. I was 8 years young ...\"\n\n****\n\nI write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Write a dystopian story in which the hero is a college-age guy who has little to no motivation.	[ "The world’s ended, so why should I fucking bother?\n\nI mean, there’s a competitive job market, that’s one thing...there’s a lack of housing, that’s another...but now? \n\nNow there’s no fucking planet left to fight over! \n\nSo why bother getting out of bed in the morning? \n\nI say ‘bed’ but, of course, I mean ‘car’. \n\nI live in my car.\n\n(That’s actually a badge of pride, these days)\n\nChrist, that ‘final generation’ really did a number on us, didn’t they? They squandered the last bit of our inheritance; the planet. It’s like they ate the orange and left us with the peel. But who could blame them? It’s human nature to ignore the iceberg, even when you’re tilting at 45 degrees. There’s no-one left to say “I told you so” 'cause everyone’s dead!\n\nWell, everyone apart from me, anyway.\n\nI don’t know why I was spared: what makes me so special? Am I meant to chronicle this shit? \nWho’s gonna read it – the roaches? And what should I write anyway? \n\n“Dear diary: today I woke up, had a piss, foraged the bins, kicked a rabid dog...”\n\nIt’s hardly Samuel Pepys, is it?\n\nI suppose, if I so was inclined, I could look for other survivors – but, come on, what’s the point? Anyone left is bound to be as fucked up as me. And if we do manage to rebuild from the rubble...well, what then? A new society? It’ll end up just like the old one; broken and useless, guaranteed.\n\nI could spend the rest of my days learning – you know, find a library, teach myself philosophy or some shit. But that seems pretty pointless too. The world’s ugly and real enough, I don’t need a whole load of new words to make sense of it. You can't eat culture.\n\nMy day to day existence is just a series of processes: I shit, I piss, I sleep, and I eat. Well, sometimes I get to eat. Food's pretty scarce right now, and the food I do find tends to glow.\n\nThere was a time when being apathetic was a choice; these days, it seems like the only choice.\n\nSuck a dick, world.", "“You see, we can’t have people just saying whatever they want.” Ben’s father held his right hand in the air, and continued in a deep and pathetic voice. “We need to stop arresting people! It’s not fair! I want my turn! Boo hoo!” He put his arms back down. “That’s what all those illegal protesters sound like, they’re a bunch of whiners that won’t do anything so they can’t be allowed to speak.”\n\nBen grunted, and despite his better judgement he spoke to his dad. “If they won’t do anything then what harm will they do talking?”\n\nBen’s father made a high pitched gasp. “You just don’t get it, people can’t be allowed to say what they want because they’ll be running down the streets killing people. Those idiots think they can do whatever they want.”\n\nThis time Ben remained silent, ignoring his Dad’s ability to contradict himself in under ten seconds. He read through the day’s highlights on his phone. Another block emptied of everybody in it, another protest broken up fatally by the police. He really wished he could do something about it, but he had video games to play.\n\nThey pulled up to Ben’s college dorm, plastered in anti-government and anti-fascist posters. “I can’t believe they let these illegal things stay up. They don’t even know what fascism is, back in my day people had to vote on what to do, that was fascism, we never knew what was going to happen.” Ben’s father tried to kiss Ben on the cheek but Ben pulled away and quickly jumped out of the car. “I love you Ben!”\n\nWalking into the dorm Ben imagined flying through space, seeking new worlds, and blowing up everything he found. Maybe he’ll find some sexy alien babes. He walked through the common area with his head down, a small group of four people had formed that was talking about an upcoming protest. Unfortunately for Ben, Mike, his only friend, saw him. “Hey Ben! We need your help, get over here!”\n\nBen stared at Mike who was wildly waving his arms in what would appear to an outsider to be some kind of mating dance. “God dammit,” Muttered Ben. Still, he was too polite to just keep walking and went over to the group.\n\n“So guys, this is Ben.” Mike put his arm around Ben. “He’s got a lot of great ideas on what we can do and get more people outside.”\n\nNarrowing his eyes, mouth slightly agape, Ben had no idea what Mike was talking about. “I do?”\n\n“Yeah, I read that post you made on DarkField, it really inspired me.”\n\nBen closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh damnit, I didn’t, I mean I meant it but I didn’t mean…” \nHe trailed off as he noticed the group staring at him. “I guess it’s an idea, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”\n\n“Come on, it’s all great, tell them what you said.”\n\n“All I said was that you guys had to work together. There’s a million protests about a million different things, so just have one giant protest that’s about one thing.”\n\nThe people in the group looked at each other, one of them ran off. “How do we do that?” One of them asked.\n\n“Have people focus on the dictators instead of the goal. You can figure out the goal later.\"\n\t\n“They’ll just say we’re violent agitators.”\n\n“I’ve read about sit-ins, you’ll just sit somewhere, that might work. And I guess it doesn’t matter, the cops will keep escalating the violence, letting more people see them for who they are.”\n\nA large group of men and women entered the common area, what was an empty room was now packed with people. Somebody with a chair came over and hands belong to unseen bodies picked Ben up and put him on the chair. The room erupted in cheers.\n\nMike yelled out to the room, “Tell him what we’re going to do Ben!”\n\nFrozen in terror, Ben said nothing.\n\n“We’re gonna work together right Ben?” Mike yelled out.\n\nBen nodded. “Uh, yeah.”\n\n“United we stand!” Yelled out Mike once more.\n\n Ben looked over the crowd, and then back down to Mike who motioned for him to talk. “Divided we fall?”\n\nAgain the the room erupted into cheering, which then let to chanting. “Ben! Ben! Ben!”\n\nStanding in the middle of the crowd, Ben only had one thought, “I’m not going to get to play my game today.”" ]	2
	[WP] In a post apocalyptic world, toilet paper has become of great value. Lucky for you, you were a supervisor at a Charmin factory.	[ "He licked the water from within the small crevice where it had collected with night's storm. It collected in the extreme angle formed where the tip of the roots met rock. Only a mouthful. It was a lukewarm god awful godsend. A pitiful tongue scraped across his cracked lips, a dried up snake slithering across the cracks of oblivion.\n\nHe looked at the sun, fading, dying. He could remember a youthful time when he had tried looking at the sun but failed, asking his father why he could not. Now his gaze was fixed on it, never blinking. \n\nHe had to get the white gold. It was his only salvation. He was close, he could taste it. He was close to the Charmin palace. Home to the emporor of the neverend desert.\n\nIt had a bluish color now, the sun, the skies were incoherently polluted. Clouds also seemed to go by faster than they had in the days past. The wind was a harsh punisher, whipping sand onto his skin in never faltering rhythms of pain. The wind did not subdue the torrid heat. He wondered why his sweat would not dry. Precious water lost.\n\nHis horse died two days before he reached the great Charmin palace.\n\nintermission\n\n\"Oil, I will give you all that you can ever dream of. I am an oil man sir. I have in my possesion a great lake...no...a massive sea of oil!\"\n\n\"Oil is of no use to me.\" I replied.\n\nThe small man grimaced. \"But what of your machines. The machines of the old world. Those are powered by oil!\", he cried.\n\n\"Ah, but you see, I have no use for oil anymore, I have in my possesion machines that can create the magic that comes from oil, directly fom the sun. And this magic feeds all the other machines.\"\n\n\"Sir, have a travlled far. My horse perished from thirst. To travel is a burden, with the sun beating without stop. Could you please spare a few rolls of white gold so that I can travel back to my fields and provide for my family. Please sir, my oil is of no use anymore.\"\n\nI looked at the man before me. \n\n\"Baxter, bring me more wine.\", I barked at one of my servants. \n\nHe started.\n\n \"Wait! Send for Meena to come and feed me!\"\n\nBaxter nodded and scurried off.\n\nI looked at the small man again.\n\n\"You see, my good man, living like this...\" I waved my hand around to signal him to look at my palace. \"costs money. And money, is measured in white.\", I said.\n\nI paused for a moment.\n\n\"No no no, I cannot possibly give you even one roll of toilet paper. Because to do that would be unfair. How would you handle the responsibily. I cannot place a burdon of such magnitude upon your shoulders.\", I said fairly.\n\nMeena meekly fed me grapes and wine.\n\n\"Off with you now oil man, you may drink water from my white fountains before you go. Simply pull the lever.\", I smiled.\n\nThe small man turned away with hunched shoulders, which I did not understand.\n\n\"Be sure to tell everyone of the generosity of the Emperor with the white gold, for I am fair and just.\"\n\nThat should settle it, I thought as I sipped from my goblet of wine." ]	1
	[WP] Let’s explore emotions! The thing that terrifies your character more than anything is happening.	[ "I've been afraid of this my whole life. More than I've feared anything. I would rather face death. \n\nIt won't be so bad, eventually, I know. It's one of those things you adapt to. Stop noticing. Stop caring about. \n\nBut I still care. I still notice. Yesterday, she came, and I didn't recognize her. Her face was unfamiliar. She could have been anyone. I only knew she was someone I should know because of her face when I didn't. Disappointment. Fear. Sadness. \n\nI feel those things too. Everyday, more and more. The sheer terror. \n\nI'm losing my mind. \n\nNot going insane, no. Although I feel I may, sometimes. I'm losing my mind--my memories. Words. Names. Faces. Her face. Her. Everyone. \n\nMyself.\n\nIt started innocently. I'd forget directions to a place I've been before. Forget to pick up milk while shopping. Forget a word in conversation. Forget a birthday. Lose my keys. Lose my car. Lose myself, somewhere. \n\nI know it won't be long before I forget what I used to do for a living. Forget what my parents looked like when I was young. Forget what my children looked like when they were young. Eventually, forget my children. Forget how much I love them. \n\nI don't want this. I wish I would die of cancer. A heart attack. An aneurysm. Die in an accident. Die in a fire. \n\nI wish I was alone. I wish I didn't have memories of people I loved, so I wouldn't lose them. I wish I hadn't been married for 52 years (or was it 53 years?) to the most perfect woman I ever laid eyes on. I wish I had never seen her face, so I wouldn't be able to forget it. \n\nI hope it's quick. I hope I don't suffer much longer. I know I'm forgetting things. I know what I'm losing. I hope, when it's all gone, I'll be at peace. I hope I won't know what I've lost. \n\nBut I know now. I'm losing myself. I'll be gone soon, but still here, waiting. \n\nHer beautiful face will look at me with sadness. I'll see her, but my memory of her will be gone. She will know, and I will not. \n\nI'll already be gone. " ]	1
	[WP] In the format of a diary, write an explorers days on an undiscovered island that contains an intelligent native species and a hostile monster that terrorises them	[ "August 12, 1847 Capt. Samuel Foxe HMS Fenrir, Exploratory Expedition for the Northwest Passage\n74° 15′ 0″ N, 105° 0′ 0″ W\n\nPilot Gregory Statham was right. \n\nI owe him that announcement as my first log entry since the Fenrirs floundering. Greg is dead.\n18 officers and 84 men are also dead. Only two vessels survived, the two small jolly-boats each packed with eight men apeice.\nAlso presumed lost are the HMS Heavensent (14 officers and 102 men) and the transport Holly (15 men).\n\nWe have been on these dinghies close to seventy-two hours. It is just now that the pages of this log were dry enough to survive the scritching end of a pen.\n\nThe pilot's log has been drenched and some of it is unreadable so I will review our voyage from our last stop. \n\nWe last landed at Disko Bay, Greenland where we had our last logs copied and the men sent their last letters home and we resupplied. From there \nwe followed the well known path to the american arctic archipelagos through Baffin Bay. Some of the men, I heard rumblings, were unhappy with this \nchoice since it followed the path of the ill fated Franklin expedition of a few short years ago. Our other path, however, was narrowed an icy according to the \nwhalers at Disko Bay so the decision was made.\n\nThe waters through Baffin Bay were fine. During the next month and a half we traversed the archipelago taking stops when we found land to \ntrade with the Inuit and hunt game to stretch our canned stores. Game was abundant; so much so that we had more meat three months into the expedition than we had\nwhen we left the shores of Greenland.\n\nIt was getting late in the season and we began to worry about the encroaching ice. I gave orders to find a suitably sheltered harbor. We passed some fine ones\nfor hopes of better. We were in no hurry since our stores were full and the water seemed unusually free of ice. A warm season, we thought, praising our good luck.\n\nBut as we moved further west the islands began to change character. They became increasing rocky and barren and their shallows were no different -- vicious stones jutting through the surface like knife blades.\n\nThe sea began to change, as well. The ice thinned and, finally, to our astonishment, disappeared entirely. We were thrilled! I began to think that old Franklin wasn't lost in his expedition but found\nthis strange strait with the warm currents.\n\nGreg, however, became more and more thoughtful. He checked other pilots' notes for the region. None mentioned such a notable feature though, he admitted, he had none from those that had travelled as far north\nand west as we had.\n\nOne night the men reported hearing rasping against the hull as they lay in their bunks. Our engineers reported that our steam engine seemed to be straining for the same amount of speed and that there was increased\nvibration through the drive. I ordered the engine shut down and had the engineers check it over and lubricate it carefully. We would move under our sails until morning. \n\nThat morning was one of the strangest I've ever had in my years at sea. I awoke to a call of 'land ho!' As I came from my room and stepped on deck, I thought I was dreaming. In every direction around the ship\nit appeared grey and solid as if we were sailing on a sheet of slate. \n\n\"What in the devil!\" I cried when I realized it wasn't a dream. \n\n\"Pumice\" Greg said shaking his head, taking notes in his pilot's log. \"It's bad news captain. I've been afraid of this since we stopped seeing ice. There's a volcano spewing this up down there somewhere.\"\n\n\"Christ, man! Might we be sailing over top of it?\" \n\n\"Could be. Probably not. But it does mean this area's unstable. Getting caught in an eruption is the least of our worries.\"\n\n\"What on Earth do you mean, least of our worries?\"\n\n\"Well, there's more than pumice being pulled from the pits of hell out here. Sulfer. Noxious gasses.\"\n\n\"Alright. So we could suffocate. I don't smell anything amiss.\"\n\nGreg stroked his long red beard and sniffed at the air. \"No. But the danger isn't suffocation, it's capsizing.\" He continued seeing my puzzled expression. \"The gasses change the density of the water. It can be like\nsailing on foam rather than thick, salty ocean. Ships fall through and get swallowed up.\"\n\nAs if the world held it's cruel breath until Greg spoke those words we saw a bubble shimmer and expand at breathtaking speed at the edge of the horizon. Smoke billowed from underneath. I had enough time to yell \"ERUPTION!\" before the shockwave hit. \n\nIt sucked the breath out of my lungs and nearly knocked me to the deck.\n\nAt the epicenter of the explosion a huge, billowing cloud reached for the top of the dome of the Earth.\n\nWe stood transfixed. The massive column of water blown to the sky began to fall pushing a concentric wall of furious sea in our direction.\n\nThe distance and the enormity of the explosion, the resulting wave and the time slur of terror conspired to make the danger seem almost remote. That changed when the roar of the column falling hit our ears.\n\n\"Full engines!\" I roared, barely able to hear myself. \"Turn us about!\"\n\nI ran to my cabin to grab the chest of charts and logs.\n\nThe Heavensent was the first hit. We saw it flounder, pushed in our direction a few hundred yards, before falling behind the wall of water. Our little runner ship Holly was instantly swallowed a moment later. \n\nWe had turned fully around. Looking out of my door I saw the men's faces and the shadow of the water race over the deck and beyond. The wave lifted the stern, I was tumbling, then blackness.\n\nI awoke on our small jolly boat. The Fenrir was gone. I had my chest. The men said that the ship was pushed at least a mile by the wave. It ended up twisted, broken, and sidelong but some of them were lucky enough to cut the small crafts free. \n\nThey plucked me out of the sea, floating with my arm wrapped in the chest's straps just near the ship.\n\nWe spent some time assessing injuries and taking stock. We were lucky that the assistant surgeon, James Vale, was among the survivors. None of those that survived were too seriously injured. The water was, and is, freakishly warm so hypothermia was not an immediate concern. We also have one half barrel of clean water and quite a bit of canned food, considering.\n\nWe can see the plume of the volcano where it is bubbling up from the sea, but it grows distant. The conflagration seemed to clear much of the pumice. We are making our way south. With so many men to take shifts on the oars I expect we'll hit land before our water runs out.\n\nAugust 14, 1847 Capt. Samuel Foxe HMS Fenrir, Exploratory Expedition for the Northwest Passage\n74° 15′ 0″ N, 105° 0′ 0″ W\n\nWe are in luck! We have spotted land!\n\nThis island is queer for the area. Volcanic, no doubt, since we can see the peak and crater. The island is sizable. Near the shore seems to be lush with scrub and covered, where the plants do not grow, with pitch black sand. The rest, going up the mountainous parts, are snowy as one would normally expect in this arctic region. Half way up the mountain, however, the snow dwindles. We can see smoke vents here and there and even some lower on the foothills, though some have suggested that the lower ones might be Inuit settlements. We can only hope as the Inuit are a kind people and may help us. Jeremiah Wilson, a young lieutenant, claims that he saw white shapes moving upon one of the beaches that quickly took cover in the brush. When we land, we must be on the watch for polar bears. We have a few pistols and knives among us but I doubt our powder is nearly dry enough to fire a pistol. We must be cautious.\n\n(To be continued)" ]	1
	[WP] Scientists discover what happens after you die and it's nothing like anyone expected.	[ "\"Sir,\" said Nakamura, \"If you'll take a look at the analysis on page 7 of the docum--\"\n\n\"Look, Taiyo, I don't have any kind of advanced degree. I'm an administrator. Now, I don't always need to have things explained to me in small words, but I'm afraid that this is one of those times. So pretty please, just explain it to me in fucking English.\"\n\n\"Well, uh, sir,\" Nakamura stammered.\n\n\"Sir, the study featured 995 American adults over eleven trial sites, chosen as a representative sample of the overall population,\" interjected Evans. He had always been better at cutting through the jargon and the technical details when working with laypeople. \"All of the participants gave informed consent and were tested to ensure that they could survive the resurrection process after an induced death. The participants were separated randomly into an experimental group and a control group. Selection was double-blinded so neither the participants nor the administrators were aware of who was in the control group. The control group was placed briefly into a medically-induced coma, while the experimental group was given a lethal injection. Both groups were revived ten minutes later.\"\n\n\"This is all on page 7,\" added Nakamura, trying unsuccessfully to be helpful.\n\n\"The responses from the control group were varied. Most remembered nothing, others reported seeing a bright light, still others reported dreams of varying intensities and subject matter.\"\n\n\"The control group doesn't interest me,\" replied Jocketty. \"It's the experimental group that I'm interested in.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I was getting to that. All 491 of the experimental subjects had the same after-death experience.\"\n\n\"And that is?\"\n\n\"Well, sir, I don't really know how to say this without it sounding ridiculous.\"\n\n\"Try.\"\n\n\"Each and every one of the 491 subjects, regardless of demographic cohort or belief in an afterlife, reported awakening in a small, non-descript room with walls of brick.\"\n\n\"That sounds odd, but not ridiculous,\" said Jocketty, idling flipping through the document in front of him.\n\n\"No, sir, that's not the ridiculous part. Shortly after finding their bearings, all of the subjects reported one wall of the room exploding inwards.\"\n\n\"Exploding... inwards?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. The explosion was followed immediately by the appearance of a large, cartoonish figure who shouted 'OH YEAAAAAAAH!' at them, then forced them to skateboard and drink Kool-Aid.\"\n\n\"You're telling me that the afterlife is being run... by the fucking Kool-Aid Man?\"\n\n\"It appears so, sir,\" replied Evans. \n\n\"And he forced everyone to skateboard?\"\n\n\"Well, it was the primary option. A few who staunchly refused his demands were instructed to play video games, and one was given a spyglass and allowed to dress up like a pirate. But he refused to allow them to do homework or chores, and he wouldn't budge on the requirement to drink Kool-Aid. Specifically, the red kind.\"\n\nThe room was silent for a moment, but Evans felt the need to speak again. \"Sir, I know how this looks. But the data is solid.\"\n\n\"We're going to lose our fucking funding. All of it,\" muttered Jocketty, looking down at the floor. He gathered himself and addressed the two scientists. \"We can't fucking publish this thing! If any of this gets out, we'll be a fucking laughingstock. How the fuck can the Kool-Aid Man be in charge of the afterlife? He was invented in the 1970s!\"\n\n\"Sir, we'd like to run additional tests to determine that. Perhaps if we prep some subjects, give them some questions to ask him while they're deceased?\"\n\n\"No. What you're going to do is bury this thing. Fucking bury it. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"But sir...\"\n\n\"How are you going to explain to 7 billion people that the fucking Kool-Aid Man runs the show after they die? I don't care how well the study was constructed and what the findings are. I'm not about to tell a bunch of Christians, Jews, and Muslims that the God of Abraham has been replaced six-foot tall anthropomorphic pitcher of sugar water.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Nakamura, \"I don't think Kool-Aid Man would appreciate your characterization of Kool-Aid as 'sugar water.'\"\n\n\"You know something, Taiyo? I don't give a fuck what the Kool-Aid Man thinks about--\"\n\nJocketty was interrupted by a loud crash, followed by a familiar voice...\n\n'OH YEAAAAAAAH!'" ]	1
	[WP] The Supervillain's base was on fire, his minions fleeing or dead, his laser matrix dismantled, his hostages liberated, and he was laying on the floor, bleeding out. "Excellent. it is all going according to plan."	[ "The entire ship turned into one giant furnace. Most of my fleet was either destroyed or retreating. The hostages , who have been strapped with explosives, have been liberated and evacuated. My Flagship, the \"Massacre of Silverhaven\" would soon descend into the planets atmosphere and break apart. \n\nThe last contigent of the United Galactic Council arrived in the system, which was kind of an overkill.\n\nPerfect.\n\nThe door to the bridge was breached and the group of heroes entered the room. They only found some dead officers and me. The rest of the crew has been evacuated almost 30 minutes ago.\n\nThe leader of them approached me with his gun drawn.\n\n\"Emperor Horsa Durheim, you are under arrest for commiting numberless horrible crimes against all intelligent lifeforms in this galaxy. Order all your troops across the galaxy to surrender and they will be spared.\"\n\n\"And how am I supposed to do that? Im on the ground, bleeding from at least 20 wounds, have 2 broken legs and on top of that you guys fried the communication console. But maybe you can scream as loud as your sister to tell my soldiers to surrender. She screamed so loud as I slowly ripped of her skin, I bet her voice was heard at least 2 systems away.\"\n\nI chuckled. \n\n\"Ha, very funny you monster. Do you really think you have any chance of winning? All the 25 spacefaring species including the 4 elder races have united to end your reign of terror. Even if the rest of your fleet is waiting in the next system to attack us they wouldnt stand a chance. Your super weapons also are no match for the elder races technology.\"\n\n\"Then you lack of imagination, boy.\"\n\nHe was visiblly getting angry.\n\n\"Look how pathetic he is, trying to mock us on the brink of his death. Throwing away the lifes of his soldiers, just so he could live out his god complex.\"\n\n\"God complex, what god complex? I AM GOD!!!!\"\n\nI laughed, I laughed so hard that I started to cough up blood.\n\n\"A god who is bleeding out like a lowly pig\"\n\n\"Do you really think thats blood which is flowing out of my wounds?\"\n\nAt first he thought I was joking, but then he slowly realized that I was talking the truth.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"This is just a remote controlled robotic body, mimicking a human one. Havent you guys asked yourself why I would only use a fifth of my fleets to attack one of the heaviest fortified star systems? And why do you think I didnt ordered the rest of my fleets to ambush the pursuing forces?\"\n\n\"Because you are insane?\"\n\n\"No, not at all. As you said, all races have united against me. And as I can see, they send almost all their ships to destroy me. Dont you think its a little odd?\"\n\nHe realized it was a trap. His face was priceless. I definetly need to put this picture on the wall of my bedroom.\n\n\"Dont break your dumb head over this, it will be over soon.\"\n\nI switched to autopilot.\n\n\"So long assholes!!!\"\n\nI pushed the button. Over my VR helmet I could see how they desperately tried to warn their forces.\n\nBut it was already too late. The device inside the systems sun activated itself. It caused the sun to collapse immediately and released the entire energy with one devastating explosion.\n\nEverything in the system was obliterated. Be it ship, asteroid or planet.\n\nI pulled off my VR helmet and entered the bridge of my new flagship, the \"Genocide\".\n\nTime to exterminate and enslave some species.", "Vaxatror lay on the ground, blood flowing from his many wounds. Incredible Man and his Super Kid had accomplished their mission, and were leaving their nemesis on the ground to be dealt with by the plice. The duo were about to leave when they heard Vaxatror speak. \n\n\"Did you say something Vaxatror?,\" asked Incredible Man. \n\n\"Just his last words!,\" shouted Super Kid, still giddy from a job well done. \n\n\"I was saying that this is all going according to plan.\" moaned Vaxatror. \n\nIncredible Man and his Super Kid just looked at each other. Then Incredible Man walked back towards Vaxatror. \n\n\"What did you just say?,\" asked Incredible Man. \n\nVaxatror looked up at his arch foe, \"I said this is all going according to my plan!\"\n\nIncreible man just shook his head, \"No, no, no. That's just not true. We beat you! you're on the ground. You can't even get up!\"\n\n\"I could get up if I wanted to.\"\n\n\"Then get up!\" Yelled incredible man. \n\n\"I would but this is the plan!\"\n\nSuper Kid put his hand on Incredible Man's shoulder, \"Hey it's alright, lets just go.\" \n\n\"No! Vaxatror needs to admit that he lost!\"\n\n\"I didn't lose though. This is my plan.\" \n\nIncredible Man started to speak again when the police burst into the room, led by the Commissioner. The commissioner walked up to the three titans, \"Thank you for defeating Vaxatror for us Incredible Man.\" \n\nIncredible Man was still focused on Vaxatror, \"See! The police commissioner just thanked me for defeating you! We won. It's over.\" \n\n\"That's great and all, but this is apart of my plan.\" \n\nIncredible Man was too busy bickering with Vaxatror to notice that the police officers had all pulled out their guns. Incredible Man and Super Kid didn't stand a chance. \n\nVaxatror rose from the ground. \n\n\"I warned him this was a part of my plan.\" " ]	2
	[WP] - Sick of sinking your time and fortune into fighting the criminal element of your beloved city, you decide to stop crime another way.	[ "\"If there's nothing to steal,\" I mused, \"then nothing will be stolen.\"\n\nI gazed through the glass bubble at the hooded, armored costume in which I had had so many adventures. I looked at the gigantic bulletin board, fully covered by irregularly-shaped layers of newspaper- cut out headlines documenting a decade of my crimefighting accomplishments. The Daily Tattletale; The Infodump; The Holly Inquisitor; all bore witness to my dedication and skill at capturing criminals and leaving them hogtied on the precinct steps. The good people of Holly County and Mainborough had much to thank me for. \"Screw those ingrates,\" I muttered under my breath. \"They've not kept up their end of the bargain.\"\n\nI reached out and ran my hands through the overlapping sheets of precisely cut newsprint from the bottom of the board up. They reminded me of the feathers of a pigeon, drab and grey in the clouded nights of the city. A memory came of my old partner, the Feral Dove. Where did we go wrong? He was living out in Hollywood now, doing stunts for big budget movies. \"I'll be back,\" he had promised, \"when you need me most.\"\n\nBastard. Where had he been when the Black Wombat had snared me in his web? When the Fairy Godfather had trapped me in a pit and menaced me with his Tommy Gun? My desperation had given way to a terrible peace, both times. \"If I only have hope, perhaps he will save me.\" My face twitched into a half snarl, pulling at the scars of my most desperate hours.\n\nGosh there were a lot of headlines on the board though. Albert, my butler, had a keen eye, steady hand and a sharp blade in his X-Acto knife at all times. If only he'd recycle the butchered papers... I glanced over to the bin. It contained nearly a year's worth of multiple dailies, neatly stacked, but already degenerated into a kind of damp paper-mâché at the bottom. Once a year, on the anniversary of my father's death, Albert would take the bin out to the back lawn and dump its contents onto the brick plaza. With uncharactistic wildness, he soak the flayed papers with gasoline and burn them. And again I would see the glowing ashes borne up into the air, swirling and settling in white drifts all over the garden. Again I would storm out of the servants' back entrance and confront him. \"And what else am I supposed to do, Sir?\" he'd ask, remonstrating in that eternally mild voice of his. \"If I put them on the curb, someone would notice that someone in the Laboratorium was cutting out all the mentions of the Labr...\" There I would shush him. It had become something of a yearly ritual, this talk. \n\nMy fingers reached cork, scarred with the marks of a thousand pushpins. A brittle, yellowed slice of an ancient newspaper broke free and fluttered at my feet. \"JEREMIAH JONES JAILED!' blared a 20 point hed. That had been my first big score. I remembered his limping gait, his bloody footprints, the tattered boots bearing the marks of thousands of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. Jeremiah Jones, the Highwayman. \n\nBut things had changed. The people of Mainborough had lost any sense of gratitude. And for all my efforts, I had come to realize, I was not making any headway. Criminals were a renewable resource. Filling the jails had not depleted the supply one whit. The shoplifters I tracked down in the breaks between big cases were sent to jail with the masterminds, and came out bitter and wild to offend again. And again. And soon, they were the masterminds themselves. And the adulation, the praise had simply faded away over time. The people had become complacent, and so had I. It was time for something new.\n\n\"New strategy,\" I declared, and whistled the piercing call to my Kindred. I strode to the glass dome with new purpose and dedication. I wrenched it aside and threw it to the floor. The crash and tinkle seemed to shatter something inside me as well. I donned the red-lensed goggles, and my view of the world changed, morphed. The helmet, with its two pointed ears. The suit with its prehensile tail and white fibrous cover, bulletproof and sleek. \n\nOut of the shadows my children swarmed, tiny claws scratching, voices chittering. I addressed them, my voice penetrating through their keen ears into their genetically enhanced brains. \"My children! It is time for the Labrat to be respected again! Go to the homes of the people of Mainborough! Go to their businesses and their schools! Their churches and their parks! Leave them nothing, not even the clothing on their backs!\"\n\nMy laughter echoed loud and furious through the Ratcave. It was time for a change. \n\nMy laughter ceased suddenly, at the sound of a soft cooing at my back. The Feral Dove! He had returned!\n\nMy face had never felt such a punch." ]	1
	[WP] Satan won't allow his son to attend Hogwarts.	[ "\"And what can I do for you house elf?\" Satan asked, his son in his right, working on making sparks appear out of his pitchfork. \n\n\"The Headmaster of Hogwarts kindly request that you reconsider-\"\n\nThe two of them groaned, and Satan put his arm out and snapped his fingers. In front of him appeared Albus Dumbledore himself, quill in hand.\n\"Albus\"\n\"Lucifer\"\n\"I realize that you think having my son in your school will help your cause, but exactly how stupid do you have to be to want the son of a fallen angel in your school?\"\n\"Magic is magic. You were the one whom chose a witch for a mother for him.\"\nLucifer laughed, throwing his head back. \"As is my right!! I wanted my son to be powerful, if not the same as me, then powerful in multiple ways! No, he is still my son. He would do well to stay here, with me. His powers in the mystical arts will know no restraint in this realm but the restraint he indulges upon himself.\"\n\n\"Don't you think it be wise to send your son to learns what humans are like?\"\n\nSatan laughed with delight. \"One of these days he will find himself a nice American Pie, worry you not Albus. Now, leave.\" \n\nSatan clicked his fingers again, and the old man was gone. The house elf was relived as she smiled and turned away, going back home. ", "Son , what in my name did you just say? You want to join Hogwarts?\nSorry, but i cant allow that, hell is already at its maximum capacity and i don´t want another flock of those wizards coming here just because they saw your disturbing mess, that you refer to as your face. Gandalf here is already enough to keep me busy.\n\nAnd even if you go there, what do you think you could do ? You talent for magic is so little, it should be nonexistent. They won´t even let you join Huffelpuff, because who in the right mind would tolerate a children that is 9,2 Feet tall?. You would probably live somewhere out in the woods, with your only friend, a spider you grew attached to because it got lost and somehow ended up in your little house of all places.\n\nAnd dont even start of dreaming to be a saviour, because you would just be the nice little help that someone could have needed, but truth be told any kind of monkey could have done the same job and it is likely that they would have done a way better job at that. I mean visiting your place must be like the ritual to be accepted in a secret club.\n\nIn order to fit in that Hogwarts world, you would need some backstory that could explain your look. First grow a beard and never shave it, that hobo look somehow makes humans pity you, same goes for you hair, make them cover up those ears, right now they are just screaming at me to put them out of their misery.\nTo explain your backstory, let´s try to make them believe that you are son of a giant and a human. Last but not least always eat as much as you can, you might never know when the truth comes to light.\n\nWould you still go through all those trouble, just to attend Hogwarts, Hagrid ?" ]	2
	[WP] After a terrible accident within the first mars colony, mankind restarts and life on earth becomes just a legend	[ "Markut looked North, and up at the star studded night sky enveloping the World. He traced the constellation his father showed him as a boy, the same way his father showed him and so on back to the Firstborn. His finger came to a halt, hovering over what appeared to be just another star, if just slightly bigger, and brighter. The Great Blue Star. The Great Blue Star, legend had it, was where the Gods came from. Thousands of years ago the Gods had descended into the World from the Great Blue Star, and had given the Firstborn the ability of speech, and the power to create Art and Tools. \nMarkut turned, and walked back to his hut. He lived alone, slightly outside the Community from which he had been shunned. Markut had the Garmlipythy, and thus had to spend as many days as needed to recover, if he could, by himself. Markut understood, and was not bitter towards the Community. Garmlipythy could be deadly if given free reign in a community to spread. So Markut had been shunned for the past few weeks, maybe months. He couldn't keep track of time. So he spent it looking at the stars, the moons, and the Great Blue Star.\nAs of late Markut kept feeling his eyes being drawn to the Home of the Gods, the Shimmering Sapphire of Shaylan, Queen of the Heavens. Whenever he looked upon it he felt like he was attempting to recall a dream he had years and years ago. He felt compellingly close to it, yet so far away as to almost bring tears of frustration to his eyes. It was said by some that the Firstborn were actually themselves from the Great Blue Star, and that they had abandoned it aeons ago. This was considered sacrilege, and those who spread such outlandish, and thus considered by the Pious Circle as dangerous, ideas were promptly removed from public life and never heard from again. \nMarkut of course had never given much heed to such blasphemous nonsense. The Firstborn had been always lived on Woruta. Yet Markut had not been able to shake this strange feeling about the Great Blue Star he had been getting since being moved out of the Community. He struggled to admit it to himself but he had an incredibly powerful feeling that he belonged up there.\nHe laughed. How heady his thoughts, perhaps the sickness had spread to his brain! Considering himself worthy of taking a place amongst the Gods in the Heavens. \nHe was inside his hut now, sitting at the entrance. He rested his red chin on his knees, around which his arms were wrapped. His green eyes looked up again, drawn to that Great Blue Star again. Before too long tears were rolling freely down his face. It seemed to him that he could somehow feel the hopes and dreams of millions, all the love and hate, the violence and compassion, of millions of people at once. He bitterly shook his head at the Great Blue Star, and lay back on the floor, and closed his eyes. \n\"Let this damn sickness pass\", pleaded Markut.", "Brett was never very careful growing up. With a face slightly too large for his head, and a head slightly too large for his body, he often found himself injured by doorways and overhangs, whose reinforced rivets always seemed to jut out just enough to assault him as he passed throughout the complex. Brett alone was responsible for over half of the previous quarter's recordable injuries, and had prompted more than a dozen Galactic Safety and Health Administration audits since his deployment. \n\nSo it was a surprise to everyone when Brett, whom some assumed may have been developmentally damaged from poor nutrition planning by the scientists back home, was appointed to the master control room. In this role, Brett would help divert the various pipelines of finished goods from the complex’s shipping and receiving facilities to and from customers. \n\nAlthough it was one of the oldest of the Mars Manufacturing complexes, recent re-investment had transformed it into the largest fully integrated water recovery facility; an accomplishment, which upon its completion, caused the value of Mars Manufacturing stock to sky-rocket. Although there had been controversy over the consolidation of smaller companies, with the price of water being so low, few could find reason to complain.\n\nPerhaps the generalists in Asset Management believed Brett would cause less harm to himself in the confines of the padded control room. GSHA citations were hurting the company’s bottom line after all. Perhaps they had heard about the newly automated logistics AI and thought the master control room would be a ‘good fit’ for Brett’s competencies (or lack thereof). Perhaps it was the recent emphasis on “just in time” delivery which led to the shortage. An initiative which received many nods of approval in the boardroom. Or perhaps overconsumption of Earth’s resources were to blame. After all, water harvesting on Mars wouldn’t have been so lucrative if humans hadn’t exhausted the clean water on Earth.\n\nNo. \n\nIt's said that God created Earth and humanity in six days; it took Brett three to undo His work. \n", "Thick red dust clung to Erin as he swung the heavy pick against the red stone wall. \n\n\"I'm just saying that it's a just right there. We can't be the only intelligent life in the galaxy!\" Brendon said taking a long drink from his canteen. The melted ice was still cold.\n\n\"I'm the only intelligent life in this mine right now if you actually believe that,\" Erin grunted out as he swung the pick again. Large chunks of red stone fell to the mine's floor.\n\n\"Look we had to come from somewhere. I'm not sure I believe all that superstition the elders talk about. The chosen people and all that. No, I think there is something else going on.\"\n\n\"I think you are doing too much talking and not enough working. We are supposed to have this cleared out by the end of the week. At this rate that will never happen. And all those elders don't care if you believe them or not they are going to have you flogged,\" Erin said trying to wipe the sweat from his brow but ended up just spreading a streak of red dust across his forehead.\n\n\"Fine, you are as bad as they are. How do I always end up getting stuck down here with you anyway,\" Brendon grumbled as he picked up the wheel barrow and began to fill it.\n\n\"Because they know I can keep you on task,\" Erin said with a grin.\n\nThey continued to work in the cramped cold mine steadily carving out a new tunnel. It seemed like they were constantly expanding due to the population boom. Erin's pick struck the wall and burst completely through it. He fell off balance and followed the pick into the wall. With a shout he fell through the brittle red stone wall and onto the other side.\n\n\"Erin you okay?\" Brendon shouted as he run up to the hole.\n\n\"Yeah, I think I might be bleeding a little, but I'm okay. Bring the light in here I can't see a damn thing.\"\n\nBrendon picked up the small lantern and carefully stepped through the Erin sized hole in the wall. \n\n\"Holy...sh....\" Brendon trailed off in stunned silence.\n\n\"What?\" Erin waited. \"Aren't you going to help me up? What the hell are you looking at?\" Erin turned his head and saw it. \"Oh my god,\" he let out in a low whisper.\n\nBarely illuminated by the weak lantern was a large white cylinder. It stretched from end to end filling up the entire cavern. \n\n\"We need to tell the elders,\" Erin said picking himself up off floor.\n\n\"Tell them what?\" Brendon asked.\n\n\"That they were right. That SpaceX is real...\"\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more stories! " ]	3
	[WP] Write a story that starts out normally,but gets progressively more unsettling as it continues.	[ "Stillness. That was all she needed the rabbit to do before she released the arrow. She took deep slow monotonous breaths Breath out... Breath in... Hold it... Now. With her body tense and her arrow knocked she released the string. Time seemed to slow to a snails pace as it soared through the air splitting the space around it flawlessly almost traveling impossibly straight. The small defenseless creature just stood there like it knew its own fate. However it would've of been great if the arrow was actually on target, but instead it careened off to the left landing in a nearby patch of shrubbery. \"Damnit, not again\" she cursed herself under her breath, and if it wasn't for her hair covering her face even a falcon flying overhead would see how red her face was becoming. Tensely she lowered her bow and was about to pull another arrow from her quiver when she remembered something, a presence that she had almost pushed out of her senses all together. Slightly cocking her head over her right shoulder \"you know I can feel you judging me, right\" she wasn't worried of the man that sat on the tree stump behind her because he was simply her mentor 'sir Allen Poviskus' or 'sir Povi' for short. He snickered quietly while she readied another arrow without looking at him \"you know maybe if you relaxed more you could actually get the arrow closer, maybe even hit it\". Great, now he's cracking jokes \"fine then, how would the 'amazing' sir Allen Poviskus hunt\" she said eyes affixed to the rabbit, she wouldn't dare let of escape or else she'd never hear the end of it. \"First rela-\" she jumped slightly, she didn't realize. that he was already behind her \"as I was saying you have to relax don't be so tense\" she did as he said and let her muscles soften \"second\" he was much closer now, standing directly behind her just barely touching her back \"focus on the target never let it out of your sight\" she saw the rabbit and locked in on it following every twitch of its tail to every swivel of its ear, she also felt his eyes burning a hole into the back of her neck. \"Third\" he was right next to her head breathing down her neck somethings not right \"understand your prey\" she heard him lick hips sloppily I remember what was wrong know. She could feel him directly next to her ear it's to late \"you know what the last step is\" she gulped and struggled to find her voice even when it came back it was shaky and weak \"n-no\" he paused for what seemed like minutes \"never... Forget... Your... Surroundings\" she knew that there was a deeper more ferocious meaning \"what do you mean by that\". He giggled in her ear \"you never came hear with your master did you\".", "Hi I'm Macy, I'm 10 years old and today is my first day at a new school. I can't wait to meet my teacher and all the boys and girls in my class. \nI'm on the way to the bus now and I'm going to take a seat next to my neighbour, Rodrick. He has a silly brown dog that always kisses my face.\nRodrick and I like to skip and play in the mud and we are going to be best friends forever. Maybe one day we will get married.\nWhen I get to school I'll meet a little girl named Karen and we will trade lunches. We will play on the playground and we'll become friends.\nBut we won't. Karen will scrape her knee and someone will blame me for it. She won't talk to me anymore and she'll tell the teacher who will tell my mommy.\nWhen the teacher calls my mommy she will drive to the school to pick me up and she will be very angry, but she'll hide it until we get home. \nWhen we get home, my daddy will be off work and he will be furious. My mommy will have already sent me to my room without supper. \nI will lay on my bed in my pink shirt and blue jeans, staring up at the stars on my ceiling. \nThen he'll walk in and it'll go like this. \"Macy,\" He will say with a grin. \"You weren't supposed to hurt that other girl. You were supposed to be her friend.\" \nThis time I won't even argue that I didn't do it, that it wasn't my fault, that some other kid blamed it on me. I'll just take it. It's my fault. \nHe'll go on and on about how I was supposed to get close to her, how I was supposed to be the most popular girl in school and how my time is running out again. He just won't shut up about his plan.\nAnd then I'll be gone again. I'll be back in hell with him. I'll spend another 300 years being lectured about appearing innocent so I can help him take over or something, but I just don't care. \n", "Don was whistling as he biked to work. It was a beautiful day, as usual. Wispy clouds scudded across the sky, a light breeze sighed its way down the street, and birds added the occasional bright note to the air. It was always a beautiful day. Even when it wasn't.\n\n\nHe waved and smiled at the people he passed. They waved and smiled back. Everyone always smiled. Sometimes they even meant it.\n\n\nBut he wasn't going to waste mental space shuffling through these strangers' inner motives. He was busy smiling himself, cheeks stretched by actual happiness. This morning, his neighbor had received a surprise visit. No one was sure what happened if you weren't there to hear the knock; no one had ever been absent to find out. Everyone was so eager to receive a visit of their own that they never left the house unless it was absolutely necessary. The visits usually happened in the dead hours of the morning, accompanied by helicopters lighting up the house so everyone would wake up and know that yes, someone you know has been selected! Yes, this could even happen to you, some day!\n\n\nHe hadn't seen that neighbor since. He was happy for her. Maybe he would be next. Everyone loved surprise visits.\n\n\nDon turned onto a street and shook his head at storefronts splattered with blood. Teenagers and their graffiti. They really should find better ways of expressing themselves. Most kids did perfectly sociably-acceptable things, like practicing death screams in their basements, or learning how to properly cower and hide in the sanctioned Cowering and Hiding After-School Club. But no, blood art was all the rage lately.\n\n\nThose silly teens had really gotten out of control this time. Don had to swerve around several scarlet puddles in the sidewalk. Once free of the art zone, he dismounted and checked his tires for stains. His boss would kill him if he tracked any of it onto company grounds, and his favorite news program had ended with a cliffhanger when the announcer had suddenly uttered a beautiful shriek of horror and switched over to sponsored ads. He hadn't resumed broadcasting since. Don certainly couldn't die without knowing who the new announcer would be, and his boss would be upset if he fought back. Bosses were deadly creatures even in the best of moods. No one wanted to see what they looked like when angered. No one wanted to see what they looked like, period. Don had never met his boss.\n\n\nSatisfied that his tires were clean, and that he would live to see the future of the program, Don continued on to work. In the distance were gunfire and screams. Several government helicopters raced by overhead. He smiled.\n\n\nNot that he'd ever stopped smiling. Everyone always smiled; sometimes they were even happy. But now his smile broadened into a grin. Someone must be having a party. Dozens of mysterious government figures would arrive uninvited and make sure the party was a once-in-a-lifetime event. It was almost as exciting as a surprise visit. So he smiled for the unknown party-goers. He smiled for his neighbor and the missing news broadcaster. Everyone led such lucky, happy lives.\n\n\nIt really was a beautiful day." ]	3
Mainly inspired by some ["Serial killer hitchhiker meets serial killer who picks up hitchhikers"](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3gdbtf/wp_a_serial_killer_who_kills_hitchhikers_picks_up/) prompts.	[WP] A pair of identical twins work as hitmen. Both of them have been hired by another pair of identical twins whom want their other twin dead. Chaos ensues.	[ "Hitmen should not live in the same city. Nor should they have regular contact with each other if their contracts are conflicting, related or share any space together. Any deadlines, tools, targets, prospects should stay as far away from each other as possible.\n\n\nDespite all of this, the Munton twins shared an apartment. \n\n\nBarry walked in with the groceries, brown bag in one arm, a six pack in the other. The crinkling noise of chips alerted Marius, who raised an immediate eyebrow as he walked in. \n\n\n\"Cheat day.\" \n\n\n\"That's what you said yesterday.\" Marius smirked. They lived in the same apartment, convincing the world that only a single professional travelling salesman lived there. Not so successful to be notable, but not so down on his luck that he couldn't pay the rent. Not so sociable that he never held parties, but never so loud that they figured out there were twins present.\n\n\nBarry frowned. \"Yesterday was different.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, because you were talking to two women, one which was your girlfriend.\" Sipping from his mug, he gesticulated with his free hand. \"How do you even manage to have several girlfriends here?\"\n\n\n\"Wouldn't you like to know.\" He ripped open the chips, popped open a beer and sat down across from Marius. \"We might have a problem on the Cray twins contract.\"\n\n\nMarius sipped his coffee. Loudly. \"Go on.\" \n\n\n\"I might have poisoned my contractor.\" Barry munched on a crisp chip, trying to mask the sound of Marius's sipping. \n\n\nMarius sipped again. Loudly.\n\n\n\"Of the two, Elias has the birthmark on the left cheek, right?\" Barry was trying to focus, but there was something nibbling on his mind.\n\n\n\"I was under the impression that Othias was the one with a birthmark on his left cheek.\" He went to sip his mug again to find it empty. \n\n\n\"Well, it is hard to check before the procedure.\" Admittedly, Marius thought, I can't blame him on that.\n\n\n\"If we poisoned the same mark...\" Marius said quietly.\n\n\nThere was silence for a time.\n\n\n\"In all fairness, it wasn't pleasant looking at a rectum when you have no medical training trying to attempt a prostate examination.\" \n\n\nThey shared a laugh before Barry sighed and said, \"We should really check these things.\"", "\"Welcome back, Agent 86! Were you able to-\"\n\nBANG\n\n~~~~~~~~~~\n\n\"Back so soon, Agent 68? Did you do as I comma-\"\n\nBANG\n\n~~~~~~~~~~\n\nLater, back at home:\n\n\"Could you imagine wanting to kill each other?\"\n\n\"No way bro. Twins should stick together.\"\n\n\"Damn straight.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Should've had them to pay upfront though.\"\n\n\"Yeah, probably.\"\n\n\n", "Camden and Eleanor Jacobs sat in their rooms at the Burbank Hotel, only a wall separating them. They both looked into their respective mirrors, brushing their dark hair for the night. So in sync were their movements with the brush that from an outside perspective the mirrors could just as well have been a glass window to the other room. They were so eerily alike that even their parents had had difficulty telling them apart. Not that their parents mattered anymore, they were both dead now, that’s why the twins were here in the first place.\n\nThey both put their brushes down at the same time and leaned back in the chair. “Ah, tomorrow will be a good day,” they said in unknowing unison.\n\nTomorrow was the day they turned eighteen and inherited their parents’ company, and neither of them wanted to share it with the other. They both went to bed, feeling confident that tomorrow they would be the sole owner.\n\nDown in the hotel lobby, Quint Duran approached the sleepy receptionist. He tapped his knuckles on the counter. \n\n“One room on the third floor, please,” he said. “I want a view over the plaza.”\n\nThe receptionist gave him a strange look, but when Quint put a bundle of cash on the counter, he just shrugged and handed him a keycard. He hurried towards the elevator, which was about to close. He managed to get his arm through the door and stepped inside.\n\nAt first, he thought he was alone in the elevator, but then he realized that elevator had no mirror, and what he thought was his reflection was, in fact, his twin brother.\n\n“Vincent,” he said. “What are you doing here?”\n\n“Hello, little brother,” Vincent said. “I’m just here working a job.”\n\n“Right, me too. Want to grab a drink down at the bar when we’re done?” \n\nThe elevator was closing in on the third floor and the brothers both produced a handgun and started screwing a suppressor in place.\n\n“Sure thing,” Vincent said. “Oh, and by the way, are you coming to Lena’s baby shower on Sunday?”\n\n“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad!”\n\nThe elevator stopped with a “ding!” and the doors slid open. The twins followed the corridors in opposite directions then knocked on their respective doors.\n\n“Room service!” they called out in unison.\n\n Camden rolled to her side, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. What the hell was this? She didn’t remember ordering anything. Maybe it was complimentary by the hotel.\n\n“Just a minute!”\n\nShe was just about to open the door when it was kicked in and she got gun barrel shoved in her face.\n\n“Let’s do this the easy way,” the man behind the gun said. “No blood – quick and painless.”\n\n“Idiot!” she said, with a sigh. “Wrong room! My sister is down the corridor to the left.”\n\nVincent subsequently had the door slammed in his face. Eleanor did mention her sister was staying down the hall. He couldn’t believe he had mixed up their rooms, though – how embarrassing. He was usually meticulous in his work. It was probably the daddy-nerves kicking in.\n\nHe met Quint coming down the corridor; he had a distinct blush on his cheeks. “Are you done?”\n\n“Not yet,” he answered. “Technical difficulties.”\n\n“I feel you.\"\n\nThe twin assassins knocked dully before entering the rooms. They were both met by an angry Jacobs twin.\n\n“So you’re back again, what kind of assassin are you?” Eleanor mocked.\n\n“How hard can it be finding the right room?” Camden taunted.\n\nThat’s when it dawned on the Duran brothers that they were dealing with twins. They both cursed through their teeth and grabbed their respective Jacobs sister by the arm and pulled them out in the corridor.\n\n“You bitch,” cried Camden when she saw the man with a gun holding her sister. “You were going to have me killed!”\n\n“Fuck you, Cammie!” Eleanor shot back. “I can’t believe this, your own sister?”\n\n“Watch your language,” Vincent and Quint mumbled together.\n\n“Shut up!” cried the sisters at the same time.\n\n“All right,” said Vincent.\n\n“We can solve this,” finished Quint.\n\nBoth the sisters rolled their eyes and crossed their arms.\n\n“Which one of you is Camden?” asked Vincent.\n\n“Me,” said one of the sisters.\n\n“Liar!” cried the other.\n\n“Let’s just kill both and call it a night?” said Quint.\n\n“If I die you won’t get paid,” said both the sisters at the same time.\n\n“This is exactly why I don’t take jobs without upfront payment.”\n\n“All right, I think I know how we can solve this,” said Quint. “Let’s just ask the receptionist which room belongs to whom.”\n\n“Oh, I like how you think, little brother.”\n\n“I always check in as Miss Jacobs,” said Eleanor.\n\n“Same,” said her sister.\n\nBoth the Duran brothers groaned in frustration.\n\n“I’ve got another idea,” said Vincent, turning towards his Jacobs sister. “What was the name of the hitman you hired?”\n\n“Marcus Derek,” she said.\n\n“So you’re Eleanor,” said Quint, knowing that was his alias.\n\n“Wait,” said Vincent. “I used your alias this time, because of the upfront deal.”\n\n“God damn it!”\n\n“Yeah, sorry bro.”\n\n“You both are incompetent,” said Camden. “I’m calling off my hit.”\n\n“Same,” said her sister.\n\n“That’s not how this works,” said one Duran brother.\n\n“We’re not leaving without our payment,” said the other.\n\nAn hour later the Duran brothers toasted a bottle of champagne down at the hotel bar like they always did to celebrate completed hits.\n\n“So how did you solve it in the end?” asked the bartender, who had been listening to their story.\n\n“We called up their solicitor and asked who was next in line for the inheritance,” said Quint.\n\n“Turns out the Jacobs twins had a younger sibling, who had been picked on by them her entire life,” continued Vincent. \n\n“And who was more than willing to pay us double to off her sisters,” finished Quint. “Upfront.”\n\n“Moral of the story: if you want a job done without complication, always pay a hitman upfront. And don’t stay in the room next to your twin if you’re having them killed. And whatever you do, don’t call him incompetent.” \n\n“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You wake up in an alley with glowing marks on your arm. They glow brighter as you get closer to your destination.	[ "There was no denying it. I circled around the mini mall, constantly checking to see if the illuminated scripture on back of my right forearm was glowing brightly in response to, well, literally any other area. Even though I had no clue about the origins of how embedded, glowing text somehow got infused with my body, there was something about it that filled me with intrigue and wonder. It felt as though it were guiding me to destiny.\n\nInstead, it guided me to the 7-11 on Jackson Ave.\n\nDisappointed, and becoming more and more embarrassed, I entered through the convenience store's automatic door. Being the middle of a weekday and all, the store was completely empty, save for the store clerk, fiddling with a computer. I was afraid to check, but when I looked, sure enough, it was as bright as a flashlight. So much light beckoned out unceremoniously from my body, that the text - even previously indecipherable - couldn't even be seen.\n\nThe confusion and rage built up to an uncontrollable scream in the store's entryway.\n\n\"Holy crap!\" The sales clerk cried, startled beyond belief. \"Calm down, man!\"\n\nNot only did I know absolutely nothing about what happened to my own arm, but it was possible that my hopes about destiny, some heroic journey, anything positive to come out of this, were to be crushed.\n\nI waved my arm in the clerk's direction, the light projecting onto the ceiling. I wanted some answers. \"What do you know about this?\" I demanded.\n\n\"Holy crap!\" he repeated, even more surprised. \"What is that?\"\n\n\"I don't know!\" I responded. \"All I know is that I woke up on the other side of town, in an alley off 6th St., with this ancient-looking text embedded in my arm. And for some reason, it's glowing brighter than ever right here. Why is it doing that?\"\n\nThere was a pause. The clerk stood on in confusion and amazement, still staring at my arm. After a few seconds, he shot up. \"Wait, are... are you actually asking me?\"\n\n\"Y-yes!\" I stammered. \"It's definitely glowing the brightest here. It has to mean something, it has to be responding to... I don't know, something!\"\n\n\"Look, man.\" His tone was more reassuring, but still nervous. \"I just work here. I'm not even full-time. I don't know... whatever that thing on your arm is, or what it means, but this is just a regular store.\"\n\n\"But it has to mean something!\" I shouted, almost reflexively. \"It's weird, it's glowing with some energy that I can't even understand! There's this ancient-looking text! It... just has to mean something!\"\n\n\"And maybe it does, man! But I don't know. I guess, uh... check a doctor?\"\n\nI sighed. \"That's not what I'm talking about...\"\n\n\"Either way...\" he looked down, his voice now sounding more hollow. \"Some things in life just happen at random, with no explainable reason. I mean, it's not like we have answers to everything in life. Like... maybe some day [you try saying 'Open Sesame,' out loud](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5dpq0v/wp_you_jokingly_say_open_sesame_all_the_time_one/), and find that it actually opens something. Or maybe we just... [stop having fire all of the sudden](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5dphe1/wp_one_day_fire_ceases_to_exist_ignore_the_science/). Maybe there's a reason, but maybe there's just no reason. Maybe our life is just chaos, and we have to just accept and roll with it.\"\n\nWhile I was starting to question his sobriety, his rambling somehow felt reassuring. Maybe the sooner we can accept spontaneity and chaos, the sooner we can appreciate the odd and complex changes in our lives." ]	1
	[WP] Pick a random object within eyesight of yourself right now... and go on the angriest rant that you possibly can about it.	[ " While anger is an emotion Narcissus preferred to avoid, for it was unworthy of his gaze, he found himself suddenly and violently enraged by the presence of a most obnoxious square of toilet paper that was about on the roll next to him. Now, this particular square of toilet paper may have seemed harmless, yet Narcissus understood it to be the bastion of all the evils of manufacturing. For this particular piece of paper had an obnoxious yellow smear along its upper left corner, despite having never been touched by human hands.\n Narcissus, in his annoyance, could not help but desire to expunge that square from the face of this earth by means of fire. And so, he took the paper and gently set in in the little trash can he kept next to his toilet. He then proceeded to take a lighter from the pocket of his coat, which was at the time resting on the ground, and he lit the paper on fire. His task having been completed and his rage against capitalism having been expressed, Narcissus flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and proceeded to leave the bathroom in order to go back to sleep.\n Unfortunately for Narcissus, he had neglected to ensure that the paper had totally burnt to a crisp, and as such his house went up in flames during the night. He felt no remorse however, as his flesh was slowly peeled away by the methodical and remorseless flames, as his anger had been fulfilled. That is, until he saw a single piece of toilet paper floating to the ground outside his window. And as he lay there dying, Narcissus screamed his rage to the heavens, but he was alone, and there was no one there to hear.", "This. This fucking furry hellspawn just WILL NOT STOP BEING A DICKBAG. First, it fucking exists, and sheds its shitty ass hair all over my fucking shit and doesn't even seem to care. AND THEN I GOTTA PAY FIFTY QUID A MONTH TO FEED THE FUCKER, WHICH CAN'T SEEM TO HOLD ITS LEGS TOGETHER, SO MAKE IT SEVENTY. AND THEN ITS MINI HELLSPAWN ACTIVATE SHED N' SHIT PROTOCOL AND FUCK UP MY SHIT FURTHER. And I can't even leave this little waste of flesh on a highway fifty miles away, because it's too damn cute, and even if I did it could find my house again and shit all over it in vengeance. I hate this furry fucker, and its furry fucker underlings, and they all deserve to die.", "You know what? Fuck bananas. Seriously fuck these yellow bastards with all the might one could muster for having a dalliance with a fruit.\n\nFirst of all, they are fucking yellow. Literally the worst color out there. Not that fun sunshine yellow or pastel yellow. No they get their own color. Banana yellow and it's fucking disgusting. It's the color of snot, the color of bile, every nasty type of secretion you can think of holds that nasty yellow sickly color to it. \n\nAnd then what happens when they age? They get shit brown liver spots! How unattractive can a food item fucking be???!!!\n\nNot to mention when they get older they give off a gas that makes other fruit and food rot that much faster. What's the matter banana? Can't handle the fact that you are a soul sucking asshole already but you have to bring the rest of the food world with you? FUCK YOU GOOD SIR!\n\nAlso that artificial banana taste? Yeah it's not the banana we know today. Nope not at all. It was made before the current banana, which is why it doesn't taste anything remotely like fucking banana. On second thought? I'm glad you're going extinct you yellow putrid fuckwad of a fruit. You imposter piece of shit. Fuck you banana. Fuck. You. ", "You stupid looking, sweat stained, grime encrusted, fart enshrouded, mandatory communal yellow reflective safety vest. Not only do people wear you into bathrooms and wipe their hands on you, you also have the audacity to not have a breast pocket. Every time I need to write something down, I have to open you up so I can reach the writing utensils in the breast pocket on my clean shirt. Then when I am finished writing, being delirious from the filth and miasma that radiates from you, I go to put my implement back into its rightful spot forgetting that you are in the way. Down goes my stylus to scatter about the floor to be lost amongst the pallets and boxes. Many of my faithful servants you have driven from me. No more!\n\nI will fill out a form, requesting a new yellow reflective vest. One for my personal use. That has a breast pocket!\n\nAnd I will keep it clean! \n\nAnd relatively nice smelling! \n\nAs soon as I find a... Damn you safety vest!!", "This cat is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Where to begin? The little shit meows ALL FUCKING DAY! The stupid animal hates everyone except my wife, attacks our guests, runs over to the carpet when it needs to vomit, and really is an all-around dick-hole. We have to get some expensive catoosa because this furry moron only eats the most expensive kind, and even then looks at us with a grudging look while doing it.\nOn top of everything else, the cat listens to dubstep and has an opinion about everything. I'm pretty sure it has meowed out a solid \"hail satan\" before.", "I'm so fucking tired of this damn laptop. He takes ten years just to wake up. Another five fucking godamn minutes doesn't mean shit to me. Rise and shine bitch because I'm going to open you up harder than I open my girls legs. God damn hes always makes fucking cheesy puns such as \"you enjoy pushing my buttons\" when I type. And the clicking noise. I tap one key and he clicks. Fucking bastard does it on purpose too and I can't focus when I'm typing my damn essay. Then the little shit just starts blasting his fans because the dumbass doesn't know how to keep his gases to himself. Go to the bathroom for God's sake. I'm done with this shit. I'm out\n", "There' s a brick in the corner of the room. A fucking brick. It didn't fly in through the window! Some dumb ass mother fucker, whom I love dearly, decided it was a good idea to have a literal brick in this god forsaken home. Claiming that this piece of shit would be a good door stop. WHY IN THE FUCKING FUCK WAT OF THE UNIVERSE WOULD OUR DOOR NEED TO BE STOPPED? The door doesn't go. Why should it be stopped. Not once! Not one mother fuckin' minuscule moment of precious time has that brick ever touched that door. The door is not christened by that fucking brick. Get that brick outta' my face; just sits there being brick ugly and futile. It's literally giving me eye cancer just staring back. You can't see it on the couch, nooooooo... it fucking hides behind the holy fuckin' pious bookshelf that son of a bitch. When you sit at the table, that fucking brick just laughs at me. Fuck you brick. Fuck that brick, fuck that brick, can't get rid of the fucking brick because someone thinks it looks cool, as if a fucking brick is supposed to be some sort of hippy dippy advant-garde sculpture of SHIT! FUCK IT! ", "This fucking calculator is the worst POS I've ever seen. First of all, I had to buy a \"dumb calculator\" for chemistry class, which sucks because I already have three TI-84s. Secondly, this shitty fucking calculator has no arrow keys, so if you miss one number, you have to start ALL OVER. Worst of all, this fucking cuntulator doesn't know order of operations. If I want to do 6+34 I have to do stop, write the value out, in this case 6, do the other math (34) and then go BACK AND ADD THE FUCKING NUMBERS IN. Also, there's only 10 digits on the display. Anything beyond that gets deleted! If something is 10^-9, then only ONE SIGNIFICANT FIGURE GETS SAVED. THIS IS HORSESHIT!\nFuck! ", "I never liked ACs to begin with. They're bulky, loud and they need to be changed every week.\n\nLike some fucki'n freeloading little shit that doesn't even pay rent.\n\n\nSeriously- he just sits on his ass all day and plays Call of Duty. Do you KNOW how many times a day I hear \"I'M OUT OF CHEESE PUFFS\" and I have to go to the store for that little selfish dickweed?\n\nIf you guessed several times, you're right.\n\nLet's not even talk about the fact that he uses an excuse to stay in the household almost every day. \"Oooooohhh look at me, I keep you cold in the hot summer days.\" Big deal.* \n\nY'know what else keeps me cold? ICE! And that shit's free when you got a freezer. It's just another stupid ass piece of technology trying to stay relevant.\n\nNever you mind the truckton of cash I save per year while keeping this freeloading son of a bitch here.", "I seriously can't believe this fucking thing. Even though it's inanimate it out this smug air, like, \"Oh, I shine light everywhere. Without me you couldn't see.\" Well whoop-da-fucking-do! The sun also shines light everywhere, and does a much better job than you ever could. Just because you can cast a small amount of light inside a building doesn't mean squat to me. The fact that you were a shade makes the light even more pitiful.\"Oh, look at me, I'm so bright that humans put a shade on me .\" No you asshat, we put a shade on you because we couldn't stand looking directly at you. And don't even get me started on how easy it is to break you. One drop and we have to go back to the store to buy another fragile part. All I'm saying is that you need to get off your high horse you little turd. NO ONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT LAMPS!", "\"David's home is 12.53 miles away from the lake and 16.73 miles away from his school. How far is David's school from the lake?\"\n\nThis is homework for my ten-year-old, 5th grader daughter. \n\nI'm not bitching about word problems, I've no issue with them. If you're not seeing the issue, read it again. I'll wait.\n\nFigured it out? Yeah. So... is the lake between David's house and the school, or are they opposite directions from his house? Or is David's house the right angle from which they branch? Or is it possible they are their stated difference in any of the other myriad possibilities?\n\nSee, I don't want to be a dick about this, but it's seriously a dumb fucking question. When my daughter comes to me for help with her homework, I want to be able to help but accept the possibility that I may very well be unfamiliar with the material. Hell, maybe I might learn something. \n\nThis isn't a question of my being familiar with the material, though. I'm great with math and word problems were always my forte. I am saying two things confidently: 1. This is a dumb motherfucking question. 2. Whoever wrote this question is profoundly incompetent. \n\nWe're talking about developing brains, here. All her teachers say she's bright, but I've personally witnessed my daughter being a total dumbass on multiple occasions. It doesn't mean she actually is a dumbass, it just means she can be - all children can be. I mean, play peek-a-boo with a fucking baby and see how it plays out. There's all kinds of simple shit kids won't get merely because their brains aren't developed to that point yet. They're still growing and this shit takes time.\n\nSo, acknowledging all this.. what kind of dumb motherfucker designs a question like this for a kid in this age range/academic group? I know. You want to know? I'll tell you! The dumbest kind of motherfucker. Why? Because whoever wrote this problem thinks it's clearly written. It's not. Painfully not. But they think it is because their brain is only seeing one angle of the problem and therefore they're assuming their problem only has one angle. \n\nThis isn't some random question - it's part of the curriculum. So let's see... If this workbook is used throughout the district for fifth grade math education... fifth grade is part of elementary schools (which go up to sixth in our district)... and our district is home to 28 elementary schools averaging 500 students per school... That's an average of 71 kids per 5th grade per school, which means 1,988 5th graders in the district with this math book, and this math book is $150 a pop, so...\n\n$298,200 for this textbook, for our district alone. With this dumb motherfucking question in it. The fucker who wrote this question has been paid for their incompetence, and handsomely, too!\n\nWhat really pisses me off, though, are all the kids reading this question in their homework packet and trying to figure it out, thinking they're the ones missing something. We're raising our kids to respect authority at the expense of common sense. My daughter came to me for help with this question and she actually expected me to reveal some hidden meaning in this and make it all make sense. What a shock to discover you're brighter than the people trying to teach you! Not always, but sometimes - and that's what makes it all so confusing. \n\nSo here sits the homework packet returned to me after grading. With my help we settled on the answer \"20.9 or 29.26 or 4.2 or something else\". And the worst part? It isn't marked \"correct\" or \"incorrect\". It's merely marked \"completed\". ", "Who the fuck does this piece of plastic dogshit think it is? First, I welcome it lovingly into my house, all fuckin \"so glad you're here\" and \"this is all I wanted for christmas\" and all that bullshit. Makin me look like a goddamn moron for thinkin I would enjoy myself around it. Second, when I try to use it, it's all, \"sorry, you gotta fuckin update the shit, man.\" Like, what the fuck dude, I paid 300 dollars for you to be here and now you're fuckin tellin me I can't sit down and play Fallout 4 and have a good time with my friends and shit? Alright. Cool. Fuckin A-okay. I'll bring you over to my parent's house, where the internet can actually cooperate with your bitch-ass. So, the update is done. I've driven another half hour home. And now, you're telling me youneed an update for your controller? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, DUDE? I'm sorry, I don't mean to yell, but now you're fuckin tellin me to update the headset. The fuckin headset. I've owned it for four days now and have literally seen nothing but download bars and \"go fuck yourself, update me.\" Well, fuck you Xbox One. Update my dick in your fuckin disc tray you slow piece of shit. Not my fault my internet fuckin sucks.", "What. The actual. Fuck. Is the use of a piece of glass on another piece of glass for. I mean, my coffee table is already fucking glass, and yeah, sure, you don't want to get stains from your beverages on the polished surface. But you still have to clean THE FUCKIN COASTER IF IT GETS DIRTY!\n\nI can think of literally anything else that will do the job as well, if not better, than a small square of fucking designed glass. Paper, for instance, and at least I can do something with the paper if it's not being used. And at least paper actually stops spillages, instead of just fucking up and letting the liquid dribble down onto the table anyway.\n\nDo you know what the glass could be used for, instead of a coaster? A bottle, which can actually hold liquids, and leave little to no effect on the table, instead of being just a glorified fucking tiny rostrum." ]	13
	[WP] The year is 2100. Technology exists that translates thoughts into visual and audio format. This results in everyone having the ability to direct a movie by thought alone. This year's Academy Awards are the most competitive in human history	[ "\"Don't be shy Sally, come down and get your award!\" \n\nA thousand smiling strangers looked at the little girl as she tentatively walked down the carpet clutching Mr Pickles, her rabbit. She could feel their eyes on her, watching her every move. She pulled her dressing gown close and forced a weak smile. Shielding her eyes against the blinding spotlight, she stepped up the glass steps, cold against her bare feet. She forced back a shiver and turned to face the eager strangers in the crowd.\n\nShe felt like she was in school, having to read out her homework to Mrs Lyon-20.345/4. She could feel the eyes on her, unblinking and intently listening to every word. Those blank, emotionless eyes of the android, taking in her every word like a sponge.\n\n\"It is with great honour we announce this year's Best Animation title to Sally Pickering, aged 5 years old!\"\n\nWoops and cheers were ripples in the sea of applause that gripped the thousands huddled together in chairs. A couple of VIP booths hovered, making little figure 8s as the boosters rippled the air. Sally flashed a wondrous glance their way before picking up the trophy, surprised at its weight. Her hand trembled as she stumbled slightly, still not used to the whole spectacle.\n\n\"Thanks, I guess. I love my Mummy and Daddy lots and lots.\" She said, nodding matter-of-factly before stepping away from the podium. She turned in time to see part of her dream on the large projector.\n\nThe colours were bright and vivid. Lush blues for the water and a pink sky, like someone had burst the sun and painted its remains across the horizon. Swollen, bruised clouds menaced from the West but on the calm water a lonely boat. A brown vessel dwarfed by the enormity of the ocean before it, with a bed sheet hanging lazily against a warm breeze. \n\nMr Pickles, her hero, had an eye patch on and held a wooden sword. Accompanied by Sanders 3000, her robot friend at home, and Porkers, her plush Pig, they were fighting off a giant sea-snake. It looked exactly like the Loch Ness Monster and dipped and dived over the boat, splashes of sandy water crumbling like pastries in the boat. This was a particular delight to the crowd, having experienced the horrible scenes of the real Loch Ness dying several years ago. It was on the holograms at home and everything. Even Daddy stopped watching Mars football to come and see.\n\nSally was finally ushered from the stage and she hurried back to her seat. She could feel her eyes growing heavier like Timmy was pressing down on them like he did at school, \"just another dream Sally\" He'd whine \"This time dream about me as a soldier or something!\"\n\nEveryone everyone told her she had 'such an active imagination' and now with the new rules around the Academy, she was supposedly one of the most talented Directors in all of Hollywood.\n\n\"And now, ladies, gentlemen and Zyborgs. It's time for the nominations for Best Picture. Here there are.\"\n\nSally looked up in awe as she watched the other talented director's pictures flash up. First, there was Xavier Chao. He was a well known Chinese drug addict who's LSD trips were so extreme and vivid, he was labelled a revolutionary of his time. His homelessness just \"added to his charm\" many people said.\n\nThe screen flickered and a pulsing eyeball walked across a barren, wooden floor. Strobe lights, a flicker. Another eyeball landed and from it's rank flailing tendrils a hand reached and crushed it. The camera panned out to show hundreds of eyeballs in some strange lottery-like machine from the 21st Century.\n\nSecondly there was Morgan Freeman. The crowd-funded robot was an exact replica of the 21st Century actor who plunged the film industry into a dark age upon his untimely death in 2017. This was his seventh nomination and, like his human counterpart, worked tirelessly to feature in as many films as possible. This year he featured in 107, down from 110 the year before.\n\nThe other nominations were, as her Mother called them, \"Arty Fartys\". They were boring. A man and woman talking and then a woman running away crying. A robot looking in the mirror trying to find out why it's memory banks were erased and others. Sally must have drifted off as when she awoke, they were announcing the winners. \n\nClutching the trophy in her hands, she looked up at the screen as the presenter spoke the words. \"And the winner is...\"" ]	1
	[WP] The wealthy can afford genetic modifications, and the gene for monogamy has been discovered. You're about to marry into a rich family, but having it implanted is part of your pre-nup…	[ "\"Don't think of it as manipulation,\" said the lawyer, his grey eyebrows raised to reassure me, \"Think of it more as insurance. It doesn't matter anyway. It's not like you were planning on having another partner anyway, correct?\" \n\n\"Oh, no. It's not that. It's just that I - \"\n\n\"Well then it's settled. Go back inside and sign that contract with your lovely wife.\" His interruption was rude, but he had a tone of dismissal, and I could not argue. I opened the door and reentered the room. My lovely, rich wife sat patiently on the sofa - I made my way and sat besides her. The lawyer placed the contact on the coffee table. \"Everything is settled, just need signatures from both the bride and groom.\" \n\nI take a cursory glance at my bride. First at her hands, then at her gleaming silver watch. Her lips, then her pearl necklace. A gene to ensure monogamy, I thought, as I picked up the pen and scribbled my signature. I hand it over to my wife, who briskly signs her name without a moment's hesitation. \n\nMy lover, my only lover, till death do us part, beams a radiant smile at me. \"I love you,\" \n\n\"I love you too.\" I whimpered, catching a glance of myself in her gold-rimmed sunglasses.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write a horror story about making a sandwich.	[ "I had just comeback from the super market, the whole drive back the only thing I could think about was making the most ridiculous fattening sandwich.\n\n I had it all, bacon, 3 types of cheeses, salami, bologna, turkey, chicken, roast beef, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, the list goes on.\n\nHell, I even crumbled up chips to put on my sandwich too.\n\nI arrived home, thought to myself there is no way I can make such a ridiculous sandwich. Its just so insanely dumb what I am thinking of making right now.\n\nI figured I need to lose some of my inhibitions so I take a couple shots.\n\n I start to think about how fat I am. How disgusting I feel and look. That the reason I'll never find a girlfriend, the reason I'll never be truly happy is because of my poor eating habits. The fact I am spending so much time thinking about making a fucking sandwich.\n\nI drink 3 more shots, now I'm considerably wasted. I forgot the fact that I have an empty stomach that the alcohol hit me a lot stronger and faster than I planned on.\n\nAfter a moment, I am rejoiced. I am drunk enough that I have lost my inhibitions and can now make my ridiculous sandwich, a sandwich that I could not simply buy because, well, it would be embarrassing.\n\nI take out all my ingredients, it felt like climbing up half a mountain. Holy shit, I can't believe how ridiculous this sandwich will be.\n\nI pull out the toaster, plug it in, and then it hits me. Suddenly I have tunnel vision, like the first time I smoked salvia.\n\nI forgot to buy bread and I am too drunk to drive. I think to myself...this is the most horrifying experience of my life....when it came to making a sandwich. \n\nEdit - woah did not expect this to get so much hype haha\n\nEdit 2 - whaaaaat thanks for my first gold stranger!" ]	1
	[WP] mythical creatures are common and have been domesticated in modern day. You work at an animal shelter.	[ "Most of the animals at the shelter were relatively docile. Well, as far as docile could be. It was Sarah’s job to ensure they stayed docile. And apparently, it was her job today to show some new part-time employee the ropes. The student walked into the building with a sense of curiosity, as opposed to the regular apprehensiveness that came with seeing these kinds of animals. Management defended their decision to put the Chimera at the very front of the building, calling it “An eye opening introduction to the mythical world”. Sarah just thought it turned people away. \n\nThe student in question had been a few times now, mostly coming in for “Therapy sessions”, where people played with the mermaids or the fairies for a little while, then left to go back to whatever they had been getting on with in their lives. Usually, he was quiet. This time, he had nothing but questions.\n\n“So how many species do you house here?”\n\n“We’ve taken in at least 30 different species as of last month, if we’re counting goblins, hobgoblins and brownies as separate species. You’ll be working outside mostly with the…larger and more relaxed creatures; we wouldn’t throw you in the deep end Mr…” \n\n“Solomon. Mike Solomon,” Mike Solomon replied, gesturing out of the window. \n\n“What can I expect then?”\n\nInquisitive. A good trait in this place. Sarah spoke up, showing him a ledger with various animals and creatures, each with a name. “You’ll be working around the alicorns and Unicorns. That one…” She gestured to a particular unicorn, which was stood under a tree in the impressively large field behind the shelter. “Is Mia. She’s pretty docile; her rider simply couldn’t afford to keep her anymore. The other one is Lucia,” Sarah tapped her own head as they approached the outer doors. “Don’t look at it, she’s self-conscious about it. Abandoned just in the fields over the road,”\n\nLucia was another Unicorn, but lacked the majority of its majestic horn. Instead, there was but a stump. Mike seemed slightly taken aback and confused, an expression Sarah noted as they went outside.\n\n“Mike I’m not going to lie to you,” Sarah said, smiling and waving away a group of Pixies from her face. “A lot of the animals here don’t trust humans. A lot of them were abandoned, or injured, or even attacked. They’re here because they have nowhere else. Not every house hold can take a Cerberus in…” She commented, picking him a large stick and throwing it as far as she could, where a three-headed dog chased it, the left and middle heads fighting the piece of wood, while the right craned its head just to see. Mike nodded solemnly, and then silence fell over the two as they walked.\n\nSarah continued to tell Mike about the various creatures, about what they liked, about their personality, how he should “just stay away from the sirens, some old habits die hard so I’ll deal with them” and how all the animals were stuck here, but at least they were safe. \n\nMike helped along with the work as well, brushing fur, changing water and filling feeding bowls. Eventually, the minutes turned into hours, and it was time for him to leave.\n\nSarah flagged him inside, handing him a bottle as they neared the door, when he stopped. “Who’s that one?” Mike asked, pointing to the highest point on the hill, where a shape seemed to be stirring slightly. Sarah nodded. “That’s Tarrok,” She said solemnly, shaking her head as Mike went to move closer.\n\n“Abandoned here a long time ago now, his owners thought he was just a wyvern. You know the difference between a dragon and a wyvern?”\n\nMike looked on in awe as, almost like he had heard them, Tarrok flapped his wings, stretching them out before resting again. The beast was probably as long as a bus, nothing to be said of his impressive wingspan, the leathery red of his wings reflecting in the lake below his hill. \n\n“Y-Yeah. Wyverns have two wings, two legs. Dragons have 2 wings, 4 legs,”\nSarah nodded. “Well his owner didn’t. Left him here when he was very young, or so I’m told. Big lizard predates even me working here,”\n\nMike nodded again sadly, and then attempted to change the mood. “Well thank you for everything, I felt like it was so natural!”\n\n“Oh?”\n\n“Yeah, the animals trusted me so fast; it was like they didn’t even care I was there,”\n\nSarah grinned. “Well, you have been a couple of times before, they probably recognised you,”\n\n“Well, at least I won’t be starting completely from scratch getting to know them. So am I hired?”\n\n“Of course, the manager saw your work today and told me to tell you your next shift is this Friday,”\n\n“Well, I’ll see you then. Thanks again Sarah,”\n\nSarah waved him off as the young man got into his car, and drove away from the property, and went back to finishing her own business. As she finished checking animals off of the list, she made her way up to Tarrok’s hill, where a deep gravelly sound filled the air. She scowled at the magnificent beast, removing her jacket and throwing it onto a low hanging branch. \n\n“Don’t give me that all knowing, never telling crap. You thought he did well?”\n\n“The boy has skills, I’ll admit,” The dragon said, mouth unmoving as he turned his head to Sarah.\n\nThe woman sighed as she removed her shoes, hopping on one foot as she tried to remove her heavy combat boots.\n\n“You never hire people after one day though, why the change of heart?”\nThe dragon chuckled as Sarah removed her shirt, stretching her arms. \n\n“It’s the safest place for him. Why, I remember when a young girl was fascinated by the unicorns and phoenixes flying over her head,”\n\nSarah laughed as she kicked her pants off, leaving her only in her underwear as she walked down the hill. “I was a girl with too much time on her hands, and I’m not going to want to go paint my toenails with my gal pals, am I,”\n\nTarrok nodded. “Of course not. He reminds me of you in that sense. He’d rather by where things are familiar,”\n\n“Are you going to tell him what he really is?”\n\n“Perhaps after his first full moon?” The lizard suggested as the young woman’s bra was thrown into the chest at the edge of the river. Sarah rolled her eyes as she slipped into the water. The cold was pleasant on a day as warm as today had been, and a crescent moon had began rising in the sky behind the shelter. \n\n“Looks like that won’t be very long,” She replied as she felt the familiar warmth of her legs fusing together, bubbles coming off of her body.\n\n“Indeed. We’ll be seeing more of him soon,” He noted, settling his head again to sleep after he surveyed the area, searching for any threats as a green-blue tail broke the surface of the water, and Sarah moved to descend below the depths.\n\n“Good. Someone else can finally deal with the damn sirens,”\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nLonger than I thought it would be. If it's not good please give me pointers on how to make it better :D\n" ]	1
	[WP]: There are three things whose power you should never underestimate: The hysteria of large crowds, the buildup of a thousand tiny changes, and an angry peacock cornered in the printer room	[ "There are three things whose power you should never underestimate: The hysteria of large crowds, the buildup of a thousand tiny changes, and an angry peacock cornered in the printer room.\n\nThat last one might need some explaining.\n\nSee... peacocks might look pretty, but they are vicious, evil little mofo's... especially when cornered. I know most animals are, but there is something distinctly humiliating about getting your ass handed to you by a flamboyant turkey. How do I know?... It started about six months ago.\n\nThat was when we hired Lenny. Lenny was... an interesting guy. If interesting meant dull anyway. He was pernickety. He got into a routine, settled into his routine and got VERY upset when his routine was interuppted. It wouldn't take a whole lot- He reamed the accounts girl out when she out her lunch on HIS side of the fridge shelf. She didn't eve know- she was only using the space in our fridge because hers on the fourth floor had blown out somehow. He reduced the poor girl to tears.\n\nNeedless to say, we all hated him after about a month. So...we started thinking that maybe if we... messed... with him a little, he'd quit. Guy was a good worker- wasn't likely he'd get fired, and we couldn't take him any more. So we started out small. Started swapping his blue pens for black ones, moved the wall clock over a couple inches. Little things, but you could see him twitch subconsciously. He kept saying something wasn't right, but we all ignored him, played it off as him being paranoid. A wireless mouse in the back of his PC to mess up his cursor. Switching the pots for decaff and regular without telling him (although everyone else knew).\n\nHe got visible agitated. Started...twitching. We were sure we were close to beating him. We got braver. Someone wrote a script on his PC so every so often the keyboard map would swap- Q became P and so on. Swapped his blue chair for red. He knew something was wrong... but no-one cared. \n\nWe probably should have.\n\nHe got paranoid. If anyone was behind him, they'd get yelled at. If anyone came within 5 feet, they'd get a death glare.\n\nAnd then, that one thing too far. And that wasn't even us. Some new guy in the IT department deleted Lenny's emails- server purge or something. Got a whole bunch of people, but Lenny took it personally. He stormed down to the IT office. It took four of us to talk him down from choking the terrified kid. He left... but we all knew something was coming.\n\nAnd here's where the peacock came in. Lenny decided that we were all out to get him, that something was trying to destroy him. Being fair, he wasn't wrong. His reaction to this though was... unusual. Instead of the expected freakout, mass email or just plain walkout.... he somehow managed to sneak eight pigs, two cows, twelve chickens, nine goats, and a peacock into the meeting room on the third floor. \n\nThere was a board meeting that day. They opened the door to absolute pandemonium. The animals all escaped, scaring the crap out of everyone, including themselves. (Poor janitor). They got everywhere- There were pigs in the canteen, goats eating the filing, cows crapping on the new computers...and the peacock preening on the fax machine. Everyone went mad- there was a stampede for the elevators. People pushed each other down the stairs trying to get away. Kinda ridiculous really, they were just farm animals, but a terrified cow running at you tends to trigger the whole fight or flight without much input from the brain. People got trampled.\n\nI was one of the few who didn't lose their shit. Me and the other three who'd helped restrain Lenny the day before. We made a plan- Eric would grab the chickens and stuff them into filing boxes, Nick and Kyle would try and get the cows back into the meeting room, doubling back for the pigs that hadn't gotten down the stairs and I would snag the peacock. We left the goats, for now. Goats are smart, and a little evil We figured we'd need all of us to get them gathered up. Little did I know that the Peacock was worse. Sharp beak, unforgiving claws and my god can they screech.\n\nBy the time I got the thing in the mailbag we'd agreed would work to transport the thing in, I had a hole in my cheek, deep gouges in my arms and I was never more glad for casual Friday when it went for my gentleman vegetables. I'm sure my jeans took more off of that blow than my trousers would have. The nurse at the hospital wasn't that sympathetic though.\n\nIt took us hours to gathered the rest of them, then animal control took over. Lenny was fired, obviously. I don't think they ever worked out our part in it, but we all agreed we wouldn't try anything like that again.\n\nSo like I said- There are three things whose power you should never underestimate: The hysteria of large crowds, the buildup of a thousand tiny changes, and an angry peacock cornered in the printer room." ]	1
	[WP] You live in a world where coffee is perceived the same way marijuana is in real life. You've just been pulled over, and you've got an ounce of medium roast in the glovebox	[ "'STEP OUT THE MOTHERFUCKER NOW' yelled the policeman incoherently. \n\nJohn lowered his shades and looked at the raised firearm. \n\n'Lower your firearm officer before I get hurt.' he says calmly. \n\nThe officer looks at him, and when he does, realises that it is the face of his long lost son Albert. \n\n'Oh my god, Albert! It's been so long, why don't you return my c-'\n\n'Because you're an old cunt' John replies smoothly, pushing the shades back up his face. 'Besides, you can't even make a good cup of coffee.' \n\nWith that, he pulls away, his father firing parting shots at the vehicle.\n\n'Stop!' he shouts, 'Not again.. not again..'\n\nThe police officer sinks to his knees and beats the ground with a balled fist. Why good lord, why? Why must we walk this good Earth with our backs bowed under such lofty burdens. Why? \n\nUgly tears stream down the officer's face. \n\nThey then stop. \n\nHe regains his composure and replays the image mentally. He knew the suspect had coffee, but the question was, where? The glovebox was too obvious, it definitely wouldn't be there, only an idiot would even slightly suggest that was a good, logical place to but illegal grade coffee. \n\nThe policeman pulled out a blunt, sparked, and took a long draw. This was going to be a long night. \n\nA woman pulled up alongside the policeman. \n\n'Mom?' \n", "-“This is a premium Brazilian roast dude” my sleezy dealer said. \n\nThis guy had been my coffee supplier for a while, he was the worst kind. I had at several occasions busted him mixing my beautiful roasted coffee with plastic coffee beans to increase weight.\n\n-“Roy, if this shit it mixed, will personally kill your ass!”\n\n-“Relax, relax, its premium. Imported inside a pregnant Brazilian woman.”\n\n-“Du..de, I don’t want to hear that shit! Alright here’s your money”. My financial situation had plummeted at the ban of coffee. This shit gets you addicted, I had promised myself I wouldn’t get addicted, but the mornings man! Not getting my morning coffee makes me a grumpy grandpa for the rest of the day. \n\nI was listening to some good old Led Zeppelin whilst sipping on the gorgeous coffee. Every single sip, I gradually became more and more awoken. This thing keeps you on your toes! Everything was going smooth, until I saw something in the corner of my eye; the glistening glow of a blue and red light. I panicked. Threw out the coffee, but in my haste, I forgot to open the window; resulting in a giant splash of Brazilian medium roast all over me and my leather seats. I had stopped on the side of the road. Covered in an illegal substance. I even had an ounce of some Cuban in the trunk. “FUCK” I shouted. \n\nThe police man gestured me to open my windows. “I believe I smell some coffee here mister. Have you been drinking, sir?”. \n\n-“Ohh… Not me, hate the stuff, makes you too hyper.” \n\nHe slowly slid his sunglasses off and said “Dude, you reek of Brazilian medium roast. Listen, “I’ll cut you a deal. Brew me an espresso, and I’ll let it slip.” \n" ]	2
Surprise me, reddit !	[WP] You die and your soul is taken to the afterlife by the Reaper. You discover that Heaven and Hell do exists. The trick ? You get to chose where you are going.	[ "Do you eat bacon?\n\nThis question haunts me to this day. \n \nI was just a normal teenager like you or anyone else. I was just going to one of those phases. You know, rebelling against mostly anything coming my way. This time it was the meat-industry.\nI had seen a truckload of pigs from the passenger-side of my dads overpriced Humvee. The truck stopped just beside us on the way to the oilfields.\n\nOne of the pigs gave me that sad, lifeless look that only a sad pig can give you on its way to slaughter. Thats when I decided to stop eating meat.\nOver the course of six months I lost 15 kgs and most of my muscle. Apparently living on spinach alone was not an option. This forced me to widen my meals to something more. I started walking over to my neighbours and stole some carrots at night. The rebel in me stopped me from paying.\nOne night I tripped on some tools he had left outside. Big misstake.\nI didn't hear the shotgun as much as I felt it.\nThe lead pellets dug deep into my chest and I fell like a rock in vacuum towards the ground. \n\nAs the blood slowly left my body I felt the warm breath in my neck.\n\n\"I thought I'd have to wait a year longer before I would have to get you\" a deep voice said.\n\nI rose up from my body, feeling more free and alive than I had been the last months. I turned and faced HIM. I knew it was the Reaper as soon as I saw the darkness in his eyes and the foul breath of death.\n\n-\"Do you eat bacon?\" he said slowly.\n\nNO! I said. Im vegan.\n\n\"The choice is made\" was the Reapers reply as the world around me darkened and I fell. For an eternity.\n\nI am here now. \nForever without bacon.\nIn hell.", "\"...Choose?\"\n\nYES.\n\nSam looked behind Death and at the two enormous double-doors behind him. \"Is this some sort of catch? Some last-minute trick to decide if somone deserves to go to heaven or not?\"\n\nNO. NOT REALLY. YOU JUST CHOOSE.\n\nSam looked into Death's eyes... or so he attempted to. Death's eternal, rigid, grinning skull of a face simply stared back with empty eye sockets. Sam realized he wouldn't be able to use facial expressions to discern the truth from that timeless creature.\n\n\"Okay... so someone who chooses to go to heaven is arrogant and does not deserve to go to heaven and instead goes to hell.\"\n\nDeath tilted its head towards him. MAYBE?\n\n\"So then I should choose hell... but what if choosing hell means an admittance of guilt? And in doing so you actually DO end up in hell?\"\n\nDeath raised one bony finger and scratched his cheekbone with small, agonizing sounds of bones grinding against bones.\n\n\"So then I have to choose heaven... yes...\" Sam took one deep breath. \"...But maybe heaven is not what it is made out to be. Maybe heaven sucks, just like in that book of Neil Gaiman.\"\n\nNEIL GAIMAIN WROTE MANY BOOKS. Said Death. Sam did not notice the small hint of approval in his voice. \n\n\"The one where he wrote with someone else...\"\n\nTERRY PRATCHETT?\n\n\"Yeah.\" Sam turned to Death. \"Wait, you know them? How accurate are their depictions of heaven and hell?\"\n\nDeath's shoulderblades hunched with agonizing screeches. OH COME ON, YOU ARE STALLING. MAKE YOUR CHOICE ALREADY I HAVEN'T GOT ALL OF ETERNITY.\n\n\"You're trying to rush me? This is the biggest decision of my life.\"\n\nYOUR SOUL.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\nYOUR SOUL. YOUR LIFE ENDED... Death looked at his bony arm to the digital watch loosely hanging there. ...ZERO POINT ZERO FIVE MILLISECONDS AGO.\n\n\"Wait, we've been talking and discussing for that long?\"\n\nDeath sighed. For some reason Sam wasn't too bothered by the fact that it sounded like a thousand wailing banshees. LOOK. IT'S SIMPLE. YOU GO TO HEAVEN OR HELL. NOW MOVE THE LINE IS ONLY GETTING BIGGER.\n\n\"I see. I see. I know what I will do.\" Sam turned to the two enormous double doors. \"I choose... neither!\"\n\nDeath's grinning mouth opened and closed with the echoing sound of teeth clacking against each other. WHAT?\n\n\"Yes! I am not falling for your trick and your mindgames! I will not choose either of them! Now what? Do I just live in purgatory?\"\n\nYOU CAN'T MAKE THAT CHOICE. PURGATORY IS NOT FIT FOR HUMANS LIVING IN IT. THERE IS SIMPLY NO INFRASTRUCTURE FOR PERMANENT HOUSINGS.\n\n\"Well, time to make some! I am not moving.\"\n\nIF YOU WILL NOT CHOOSE THEN I HAVE THE POWER TO CHOOSE FOR YOU.\n\nSam's smug smile evaporated. \"Wait, wait, I changed my-\"\n\nFOR SELFISHLY MAKING THE REMAINDER OF DEAD MANKING WAIT WHILE YOU MAKE A DECISION, YOU ARE GOING TO HELL. Said Death, waving him off. NOW SCOOT BEFORE I HAVE TO CALL THE GUARDS.\n\nA few fractions of a millisecond later and more yelling Sam found himself dragged off to Hell's double-doors by an angel and a demon on either side. Death shook his head. SILLY HUMANS OUTSMARTING THEMSELVES. He turned to his list. HE IS GOING TO LOOK LIKE A DAMNED FOOL WHEN HE REALIZES HE CAN APPLY FOR EMIGRATION ANYWAY." ]	2
	[WP] In the near future, in order to control population, we are installed with kill switches. Anyone over 18 is equipped with this switch. At random, your cell phone will alert you when it's your time to die, you will have 72 hours. You just received your alert, what do you do with your time?	[ "The last time that Mark saw Peter was in high school. He was even taller, bigger and his dark blond hair was a bright yellow now. They walked through a narrow hallway and two people passed them. One was bold and had a serious look. _I remember you from a few month ago_ Mark thought. _Yes it's me._ The bold guy answered telepathically. They both stood still like statues facing each other. Time seemed to freeze around them. \nThe bold guy disappeared and behind him Peter looked down at the hobo, whose head was lying in a red puddle. Mark tried to grab his phone to call the ambulance, but he couldn't get his hand out of his pocket. Everything faded to black and was replaced by a ringing.\n\nIt took Mark some time to realize that the alarm rang. _Stupid phone, did it update itself and reset the alarm tone again?_ He tried to hit the snooze button without success until he realized that it was a countdown instead of an alarm. The countdown for his last 72 hours. \n\nMark wasn't impressed. No one knew when it would happen and everyone always went into panic mode when it happened to them. Mark just shrugged, turned around and closed his eyes again. \n\nHe didn't see any reason to make a fuss about it. It was common knowledge that kill switches were installed into every human and activated once they became 18, giving them a random amount of time before being alerted of their own death 72 hours in advance. It was a measure that had to be taken in place in order to conserve earth, after the people in the 21st century ignored global warming until it was too late.\n\nMark didn't manage to sleep. It wasn't the kill switch, but this bold guy in his dream. He saw him before, in another dream. _Who is he? They say you have to have seen every person in your dreams before. Even if it was just elusive._\n\nRegardless of the limited time he had, Mark went to work. His collegues were surprised and kept suggesting him things he could do, to make his departue 'legendary.'\n\nHe perfered to be alone eversince and wasn't too happy that his supvervisor leaked the news about his upcoming death. Like the years before he didn't go in the canteen for lunch and headed to the nearby park instead. This time he put away his headphones, listened to the birds and observed the falling colorful autumn leaves.\n\n_So.. That's it. I have three days left. They should just kill us instead of giving us this stupid alert. What am I supposed to do? Turn my life around in 72 hours? Try to become some kind of legendary figure, everyone will talk about for eternity? Life is ok as it is and I will go on as I did until my heart will stop._\n\nA squirrel stopped in front of him for a second, as if it tried to get his attention. It climbed up a tree, jumped onto another taller one and pointed with his face to a balcony. \n\nMark thought the squirrel's time was also about to expire. It would never manage to collect enough nuts for the winter by climbing apple trees. Then he saw a man in a moss-green bathrobe smoking on the balcony. It was the same bold guy from his dreams. The man looked at mark, tappped at his watch several times and made a running gesture with his fingers on the railing.\n\n_Time is running out?_ The squirrel's work was done and it dropped down with a heart attack, while the bold guy disappeared once again, leaving Mark behind on the bench with his face resembling a question mark.\n\n________________________\n\nCan't continue right now. Wife is waiting. Might continue if creativity hits me on this one.\n\n", "Day One\n\nConfusion. I now have have three days to become what I want to become, to do what I've been planning. I've been on this earth for 53 long years, and have been waiting for 20 of them. Waiting for my time. My last three days are all that matters, the rest was just filler. I had a wife, I had kids. I was happy. But it wasn't meant to be. She got sick, my children, my two sons had fallen ill. Then the whole world...But I prevailed. Life had never meant much to me, I was never very happy. Now I'm alone, so very alone. Only nature to keep me company. I decided, 2 months ago, to use the rest of the gas in my car to drive to New York city. It broke down halfway, but I didn't mind walking. I arrived, and what greeted me was a cell phone. A cell phone with no damage done to it, screen lit up with full battery. Right in front of the Empire State Building. Obviously, I picked it up, a message alert lighting up the screen. The message said simply, You have 72 hours, three days left. Then you will be taken, like billions before you. Do what you must, you cannot change this.\n\nSo I picked up my pencil, my chisel, my paintbrush. And made sure the rest of time would remember what I had done, what happened to the world. And how humanity was snuffed out, nature prevailing once again.\n\n", "I looked down at my lovely wife, Kelly. 12 hours of labor and an amazing baby girl was born. \n\n\"Samantha\" She said. \"I want to name her after my mom. Please\" \n\nI looked at her. We had agreed to leave out the memories and create a new name with a new history. Samantha was one of the first to be passed on with the switch. Not the first, but one of the first. She was also Kelly's grandma. \n\nDamn that switch to hell and back. 20 years ago, they installed them in all humans, at the age of 18. The population was too large they said. It was the only way to save the earth they said. Randomly, you might get a text stating that you have 72 hours to live, and then it's activated. You die. \n\nI looked down into the bright eyes of my newborn daughter. She came with a full head of strawberry hair. Stunningly beautiful. \n\n\"Samantha it is. The light of my life she will be.\" \n\nKelly smiled at me. She fell into sleep, exhausted. \n\nI held our newborn, thinking of the future. \n\nAfter a while of cuddling with Samantha, I placed her in the bassinet. \n\nMy wife's phone beeped indicating a text message. It was a tone I had only heard once before in person, and in my nightmares ever since. It was the death-tone. \n\nI looked at the screen.\n\n\"Level 3 bio metrics required to Access message. Ignoring this message is only possible for 30 minutes, and then goes in to effect regardless of acceptance of receipt.\"\n\nI sat and stared at that horrible screen for 28 minutes, debating. 28 agonizing minutes while she slept the sleep of innocence. I stared at Samantha, my wonderful newborn. I cried at the unfairness. \n\nAfter 28 minutes, I took her unconscious hand and placed her finger on the ID reader. The first level security light flicked green. I placed her hand on the slot on the back of her phone, and the tiny needle flicked out and took a bit of her blood. The level two light flicked green. I pried open her eye and let the phone read it. The level three light flicked off and it went to her home screen. \n\nInstantly, a screen popped up I had never seen before. \n\n\"Congratulations on giving Birth! \nSadly, due to recent failures to \ncontain population growth, \nyou(or your significant other) \nmust pass on. As a new mother,\n you have the choice. Do you want \nto activate your own Switch? (please \nnote - Clicking NO will activate your \nSignificant others switch automatically.)\nYes/No.\"\n\nI stared in horror at the message and the implications. How could they even ask that of any one. \n\nI looked in despair at my wonderful wife, and my newborn baby. \n\nTheir was no choice. \n\nSeveral minutes later my own phone beeped.\n" ]	3
	[wp] Your former high school bully that drove you to attempted suicide years ago turns out to be your soulmate later in life.	[ "\"So... remind me one more time. Remind me, after everything you did to me, what makes you think you have the right, or the nerve, or the... anything to be sitting in front of me and asking for help.\"\n\nHe looked over the table, sheepishly, like a child in a Year 7 class being called to the principle after setting a table on fire or something.\n\nSort of reminded me of myself, way back when. Only difference was, I felt guilty for things that weren't my fault.\n\n\"Look\", he said, looking away to avoid the daggers - well, maybe closer to claymores - I was staring at him. \"I know... I know I fucked up back then, and-\"\n\n\"Well that's one fucking way to put it!\" I interupted. \"Considering all the scars I've still got on my arm, and let's not mention the time I put a gun to my mouth and very nearly-\"\n\n\"COULD YOU - Could... Could you stop mentioning that? ... Please.\"\n\nI decided to relent. Not for his sake, you realise. It was more that the memory bothered me about as much as it seemed to bother him. I wasn't done twisting the knife, but it wasn't worth hitting the same part twice.\n\n\"So what brought the sudden change on, huh? What, ran out of friends?\"\n\n\"No, I just...\" He paused, as if attempting to come up with a single better way to put his net thought, before seeming to surrender to his original idea. \"I realised I was acting like a dick back then.\"\n\n\"Fuck, you've become the king of fucking underexaduration while we were apart, didn't you? What did you think was your nadir? The fat comments, the nerd comments, do nothing, oh, no, maybe the gay comments, you'd think of-\"\n\nHe tensed up, just enough for me to notice. Just enough to make me pause.\n\n\"Oh, getting a response, huh? What, did you hate yourself for those gay comments?\"\n\n\"... Yes.\"\n\n\"Well hey, it was just calling someone a faggot, it's totally cool! Look, I can do it too, faggot! See, simple! Queer! Faggot! Fucking stupid, discusting, abolition-before-God fucking homos-\"\n\nCRASH.\n\nHe slammed his fist down in the table, loud enough for the entire resturant to hear - especially since he missaimed, managed to hit the salt shaker, and smash it to pieces, quite a few of which found themselves embedded into the base of his hand. All of that, combined with a single yell, louder then any of the yells he gave back on the playground.\n\n\"I KNOW! ... I know. Just... D-Don't... ow... I just...\"\n\nI wasn't going to take pity on him. I really wasn't planning to. But a lot ended up happening at once at that point - for one, everyone, 20 plus people, were looking over, and the situation needed to be defused. Second, he was bleading over the table, and his face was constricted in pain, both from the glass, and from the litteral salt in the wound.\n\nThirdly, he was crying. Not blubbering, mind - that would imply some sort of lack of dignity to it. Somehow, even through all my hatred for him, I couldn't help but notice how... nobel he looked.\n\n\"Christ, get a grip. You'll want to marry him tomorow at this rate of change.\"\n\nHe managed to compose himself, after a few seconds, and spoke, as low as he could manage. \"That... I... It's complicated. It's... My father, he... I just...\"\n\n\"... Your father was... homophobic?\"\n\nHe gave a snort, shaking his head a little. \"He didn't fear them. Fucking hated them. Would have shot me if he found out I-\"\n\nHe seemed to suddenly realise what he was saying, because he suddenly shut his mouth at the speed of a crocodile, and seemed to focus on his hand instead.\n\n\"Well, at least that explains why he punched one of his own guys the once. Might explain why he was angry in general, honestly.\"\n\nAgainst every effort in my mind to keep seeing him as a monster, I started to see what he really was - still as much as a scared, angry kid as he was at least ten years ago.\n\n\"... Fuckin'- hold out your hand. C'mon.\"\n\nHe did. It shook a little, almost as if he expected me to dig the glass in a little deeper - hell, almost as if he wanted me to dig it a little deeper, as repentence or something. The look of surprise on his face when I simply tugged the glass out was worth the small ammount of eff-\n\n\"There you go again. Why not just suck him off at this rate? Under the table, why not, it-\"\n\nGreat. Now my own brain was bullying me more then he was.\n\n\"There we go... One last shard, and... Ok, we're good... ... Shit, I'm startin' to think I should have left those in, I can't remember how you're supposed to work smaller glass shards like this...\"\n\n\"Y-Yeah, you... fucked up a bit there.\" he chuckled, softly, as if his hand wasn't almost spurting blood over the table.\n\n\"You're not helping your case, wiseguy.\"\n\n\"H-Heh, elevated to wiseguy, OK, I'll take that as a good sign.\"\n\n\"Mother fucker. Wrong words.\"\n\n\"B-But no, it's...\" He continued, wincing a little as he flexed his hand slightly. \"My fault too, should have... I kinda forgot, no, erm... shrapnel wounds, that's just... loose dressing around the wound, get to a hospital...\"\n\n\"Well this isn't a shrapnel wound, is it? It's a salt shaker, not a hand grenade.\"\n\nAnother laugh from him. \n\n\"kind of a cute laugh.\"\n\nGreat. Now my brain was working with me.\n\n\"W-Well, anyway... Hey! Erm, owner? Could we get a dressing here? And some water. For my, er... my... ... Friend's hand.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm a friend now?\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\nI washed out his wound as soon as I was able, and he wrapped the dressing around himself.\n\n\"... You do that pretty well.\"\n\n\"Heh, thanks.\" He responded. \"Ever since I kinda realised how much of a... well, ya know...\"\n\n\"Dickhead you were being?\"\n\n\"You gonna keep calling me that? ... Anyway, I... decided to go into medical work. On the field, you know? First aid and stuff like that. Please, don't ask how many people I've seen die, it-\"\n\n\"I wasn't going to ask that. Why do you think I would?\"\n\n\"Well, you know... cause me more painful memories? As revenge?\"\n\n\"... Well, you know... even for a dickhead, you've... gone through enough today, I think.\"\n\n\"... Thanks. ... Must be hard to admit, huh? I can tell, you've got a face like you just swallowed a lemon.\"\n\n\"Fuck. He has you pegged.\"\n\n\"... You nearly made me kill myself. You know how hard it is to see you as-\"\n\n\"Anything other then a monster? ... Yeah, I do. I had the same trouble.\"\n\nThere was a pause, as he rubbed his dressing a little, and I started to clean up the remaining glass and spilt salt.\n\n\"... So, erm... You're...?\"\n\nHe clenched his fist, and I leaned back a little - an instinct honed for at least 10 years, now. He must have noticed, because after a brief pause for breath, he unclenched it again.\n\n\"... Maybe a little.\"\n\n\"Kind of hard to be a little gay. Trust me, I tried.\"\n\n\"FUCK. YOU JUST GAVE YOUR OWN FUCKING SEXUALITY AWAY, YOU DENSE FUCK.\"\n\nHe gave a long laugh, mixed with one last tear. \"Heh, if you did, you never tried when I was looking! All that joking around about wanting to suck on a massive-\"\n\n\"Say it louder, let the whole damn resturant here, why dontcha?\"\n\n\"Sorry man. Just... ... Fuck. I got jealous about how... open you could be about it. Still... You weren't joking? Everyone else seemed to just assume you were joking...\"\n\n\"Well. When I was talking to you, I was mostly joking, yeah. Just trying to get under your skin so you and your crew might leave me alone. Thought it made you feel uncomfortable.\"\n\n\"It did. ... Might have said yes to it, if I wasn't around them, but... ya know. They liked gays about as much as my dad.\"\n\n\"Eh. They were kids.\"\n\n\"So were we.\"\n\n\"And we hated each other. Your point?\"\n\nAnother long pause. He seemed to have gone into deep thought, so it was up to me to restart the conversation.\n\n\"... ... ... So you want me to help with... What? Just... How to be friendly? 'Cause you have the remorse act down, at least.\"\n\n\"No, erm, it's... more...\"\n\n\"More the part where you cope with being not straight?\"\n\n\"Yeah. ...You think you could?\"\n\nI thought about it for a while - felt like a century of thought, culminating in a single moment. Then, I gave him the warmest smile I could manage.\n\n\"Sure. Just for a little while.\"\n\n\"Hopefully\", he responded, \"A little while's all I need.\"", "How did I get in this situation? I thought. Across from me was Isabella, the sole reason I ended up in State. She was cruel yet tender, cold but warming, calculating but daring. I don't know why on earth that I fell in love with her but i did. \n\n\"Did you hear me Alison?\" She asked.\n\n\"Sorry dear, I was in thought. What were you saying?\" I explained. \n\n\"Maggie and her dreading of a husband are on their way.\" She repeated. I groaned.\n\nMaggie was my younger sister, while she was nice and loving; her husband on the other hand is cruel. I have seen him hit her when he thought no one was looking. Hell he even forces her to have sex even if she doesn't want to. The only reason (from what I was told) that she stays with him is because he takes care of the kids. \n\n\"Hey love?\" \n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Can you come up with a way to separate them?\" I asked.\n\n\"Of course.\" She said.\n\nThe gears started turning in her head. This is why I loved her, and the reason why I forgave her. ", "\n\nShe was never one of those girls whose laugh sounded like the ringing bells of heaven, whose friends followed them around like ducklings, whose hair could go through a tornado and a landslide and still manage to fall perfectly on her shoulders. \n\nBut for some reason, I was always mesmerized by her, completely in love. \n\nThose soft brown tresses and captivating sapphire eyes reeled me in time after time again, and while I wish I could say that she saw me in the same light, she didn't.\n\nAnd that's why I absolutely despised her.\n\nDay after day, I made her life a living hell, and I relished those moments of superiority that only she could give me. Her existence enthralled yet infuriated me, and instead of simply coming out with her to how I felt, I found other... ways, to show my affections. People say that girls are the nastier of the two genders, capable of sending ANOTHER into the depths of hell, driving each other up the spire of insanity. I couldn't agree more. \n\nBeing an attractive male in a high school full of attention thirsty girls, it wasn't exactly difficult to spread lies and rumors about \"the girl that professed her love to me, yet had sex with the weird kid in art class the next day\" and things like that. It wasn't hard to convince the others at school that she was a lesbian, that she enjoyed the screams of children, that she had recently had an abortion because she was pregnant with Andy's child. \n\nThroughout the years of high school, the effect all of this had on her was blatantly obvious. She no longer curled her hair, no longer kept it groomed like it once was. She ditched the contacts, instead opting for the thick glasses that she had had since elementary, thinking nobody would care since everybody hated her anyways. She stopped wearing all of the cute, expensive clothes, quit all of her clubs and sports, instead finding solace within the other wallflowers in the school. Even then, she was an outcast among them, forced out among the edge of the circle. Still, deep down the allure of her kept dragging me back, no matter how hard I tried to stay away. \n\nIn the end, she tried to take her life. \n\nIt was the day before graduation; I still remember it as clear as day. \"Jason, dude, Mia might be like, dead.\" Everything around me seemed to melt as I listened to those words escape from the phone pressed up against my ear. \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Mia Buttreeks?\" My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, my breath faltered.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I questioned, trying to hide my panic. I had always loathed and loved the girl at the same time; even I was still unsure of what my feelings towards her were.\n\n\"She's like, dead. I heard she swallowed a bunch of Aspirin and bam, her parents heard a bang in her bedroom and ran upstairs and she fell onto the kitchen sink, and they rushed her to the hospital where my sister works, and I guess she's in pretty bad shape and they don't think she's gonna like, make it out alive. I guess we did it, huh?\" The voice on the other end of the phone started off the story with a slight chuckle in his voice and a sense of glee, but gradually faded into something that almost resembled... guilt. The world started to cave in on me.\n\n\"Really? Yea... I guess we did. I'll see you later, buddy,\" I responded in a dull tone, brain not fully comprehending what I had just found out. Gray shouted something about graduation before I slammed my phone shut, throwing it against the kitchen floor of the party I was at. What had I done?\n\n\n\n\nAfter high school, I had attended a large university on a football scholarship. I'd rather not say for both safety and privacy reasons. I talked to many, many psychiatrist and psychologists about everything that had happened, in fear that I was possibly a sociopath or something even worse. While I had nothing wrong in that sort of category, I did receive counseling over what I had done. It was the best decision I ever could've made. I never did find out what came of Mia; instead, I just used her as a martyr to better myself every day. Ten years after graduating from grad school, after many apprenticeships and side jobs to pay off my debts, I opened up my own clinic and became an official psychiatrist. Since then, I've helped a multitude of people. Some of them are teens that remind me of myself, some remind me of Mia. The latter only fuel me to help them as best as I can so no other teen will have to endure the mental pain I have from knowing what I had done.\n\n\n\nThe cold beer felt good on my throat, aching from the tears I had held back. One of my closest, most dearest patients had passed, leaving me in deep despair. I could only rejoice that her passing was peaceful, and not that of a suicide. As expected, the crowd was thin at the bar, considering Thursday's aren't exactly a prime time for going out with the lads. Still, most of the seats in the bar portion of the small pub were filled by various kinds of people. \n\nSipping on the cold brew and reflecting on the past few weeks, I barely noticed a presence next to me. Not that I cared, really, until the girl brought herself to my attention. \"Do you mind if I sit here?\" Her soft vocals asked, soft yet friendly. I froze for a few moments, then slowly lowered my glass to the mahogany in front of me. That voice was so familiar, so familiar that I almost thought I was having another nightmare. The lack of an answer must've agitated her, because she picked up her wallet once more, preparing to move. \"I'm sorry- it's just...\" she skipped a beat, obviously looking elsewhere. \"...that guy over there is eyeing me up, and it's really making me uncomfortable. I can le-\"\n\n\"No. Stay.\" I knew it as soon as I saw her. It was Mia. Her hair had grown long and silky once more, spilling over her shoulders like the most beautiful of waterfalls. All of the weight she lost through the torment had been found again, cheekbones less obvious yet still carving through the porcelain skin. Speaking of which, was no longer the pasty paleness I had remembered. The most significant change of all was her eyes. The glasses must've been discarded somewhere and replaced with contacts once more. Those piercing sapphires were back, more warm and comforting than I had ever since. No longer were her demons swimming in her own tears, eyelids barely staying up because she hadn't slept in days. It was the Mia I had fallen in love with, and the Mia I had always wanted. I braced myself for the worse, knowing that the moment she laid eyes upon my face she would either smack me across the face or flee the bar in terror. Instead, she did neither; she only batted those luscious eyelashes innocently, wondering why I had changed my mind so quickly.\n\n\"My names Jason,\" I greeted. Most of my life, I would've considered myself a pretty smooth guy. But now, for some reason, all sense had been stolen from me.\n\n\"I'm Mia,\" she reciprocated, corners of her pink lips curving into a gentle smile. I almost wanted to respond with 'I know', but I bit my tongue before it could escape my lips.\n\n\nTwo and a half drinks later, Mia and I were laughing with each other like old friends. I suppose that's half true. After telling yet another hilarious anecdote, her smile and eyes fell, mood becoming more somber. Uh oh. This is what I'd been fearing the whole time. \"What's wrong?\" I questioned, lowering my voice so that others around wouldn't hear.\n\n\"It's just... I don't know if I should tell you. It'll probably sound like I'm a stupid cry baby.\" I simply shook my head at this because I knew what was about to come. Instead of spilling everything out to me, like I expected, what came next was far more shocking... and likely to my benefit. \"I was bullied in high school to the point of attempted suicide my senior year. I never walked across the stage, I...\" a single tear fell from her eye, and I gently wiped it away with my thumb. \"I don't remember any of it, I can't, because when... when I tried to kill myself, I fell onto the sink and hit my head. Sometimes I'm not sure if I would rather remember or not, but...\" her voice faltered. I placed my hand on her chin and delicately lifted her face so her eyes looked into mine. Staring into those eyes I had always longed for, things were said that were never said out loud.\n\n\"Mia... tomorrow night? I'll pick you up at eight.\"\n\nShe smiled, nodding her head. The water pooling in her eyes seemed to disappear instantaneously.\n\n\"I think I'd like that.\"" ]	3
	[WP]Update Poe's Telltale Heart, but instead of an offending blind eye it's a modern annoyance.	[ "\nNervous, how very woke I am. But why do you say I am mad? The blue light has sharpened my mind, not dulled it. Above all, my reasoning as acute. I have read all things liberal and conservative. I have heard many things. How, then, am I dull? Observe how smartly, how succinctly, I tell you the whole story. \n\nIt is impossible to say when the post came back to me. But once seen, it haunted my wall, day and night. Objections? There were thousands. Comments really. Logic? There is none. \n\nI loved the Old Man. He had never wronged me, though his politics I did not desire. I think it was his candidate. Yes, that was it. He had voted for a vulture, a pale orange monster with film over his soul. Whenever his rants came to my attention, my blood ran cold. I made up my mind to block the old man, to rid myself of his posts forever. \n\nNow at this point, you fancy me a bore. You know nothing. But you should have seen me, saw how calmly I proceeded. I had the foresight to walk away from my problems. I went to work. I was never kinder than the week before I blocked him. And every night, at midnight, I would turn on the computer and open it, oh so gently. Then when I had logged into my account, I would type in his name and go to his page. \n\nYou would have been shocked at how calmly I read. I would type slowly, very slowly, so my clicks would not wake up my boyfriend. It would take me an hour to get through his ramblings, to look at his pictures. Him lying on the bed with his dog. Him eating ice cream with his wife. All normal pictures, hiding the nasty racism within. \n\nI did this for seven long nights. Every night. Just at midnight. It was not the man who vexed me, but his candidate. And every morning, I would go boldly into work and speak courageously to him. I would call him by his name, I would crack jokes. I would bring him coffee. Boss, bossman, sir. \n\nHe would have had to be very prolific with computers to know I stalked him every night. He would have to know more than just “the Google.” To suspect I was watching his vile rants take place, looking down on him as he slept away his hatred. \n\nUpon the eighth night I was more cautious. Tonight was the night! The watch hand moved more quickly than my own. Never before had I felt the extent of my own boredom, power, passive-aggressive assholery. \n\nThis time I typed in his e-mail address. I could hardly contain my feelings of triumph when I hacked his page. He had never dreamed of my thoughts or deeds. I chuckled at the idea: he wouldn’t know what hit him. \n\nI had it in my head that he wouldn’t know what happened. And if he did, he would ask the world, “Who is there? Who did this?” I would not be suspect. I was too good to him, too kind and shy. \n\nFor a whole hour, I went through every detail of his page, from his likes to his friends. I grew bolder with my mission. I knew what I had to do. \nWith a click of the mouse, like a knife to the heart, I changed his political affiliation to democrat. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You have the ability to experience the last moments of a person's death.	[ "\"Was it painful?\"\n\nThey ask me through tear filled eyes, holding my hand tightly. Underneath the emotional storm I can see that one emotion that overcomes all else in those darkest of moments.\n\nHope.\n\nEveryone hopes the same things. Hope that they died peacefully, that it didn't hurt, that there was meaning to it, that they are somewhere better now.\n\nI can answer some of those questions better than others.\n\nNo matter how many times I do it, how often I carry out my burden, it doesn't get easier.\n\nShe was cold and afraid in those moments before. She was scared of the dark that she could feel closing in around her but she tried to be brave. She clutched the soft fur of a teddy bear in those little fingers, held it to her chest and whispered to it.\n\n\"Protect me,\" she asked, so quietly that no one heard.\n\nThe cold turned to numbness and the darkness filled her eyes. She couldn't feel the fur anymore, she started to panic, wanted to hide from the darkness but there was no light.\n\nThen she heard a voice.\n\n\"It's okay baby girl,\" he whispered into her ear, cutting through the fog and darkness, \"you let go now. I'll see you again.\" \n\nHis voice caught in his throat and he choked out the last words.\n\n\"Daddy loves you. Forever.\"\n\nThen she wasn't scared anymore.\n\nI'm standing in a room with the family and they all look at me with expectant eyes filled with tears. I clear my throat and hold back my own.\n\n\"It didn't hurt her.\"\n\nHe smiles just a little through the tears and while the others embrace he takes me into his arms and whispers into my ear, that same voice I'd heard not ten seconds before.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nI nod and leave them to their pain, I can't help anymore.\n\nIn the hallway, alone and out of sight, my tears come as I collapse against a wall and sob into my hands.\n\nNo matter how many times I do it, it never gets easier." ]	1
	[WP] Contemplating existence, you come to the realisation that existence is contemplating you.	[ "Why do I live? Why do I love?\n\nWhy do you love? Why do you live?\n\nWith every question of existence, I realized that existence questioned back. It brought a bout of euphoria, it was an answer at last. But there was no answer, only the reflections of the questions asked.\n\nWhy do I live?\n\nWhy do you live?\n\nReflections of questions of questions reflected. My mind began to slip. To ask the questions teases the soul, but to be answered with the questions is torment.\n\nWhy do I love?\n\nWhy do you love?\n\nMy addled brain began to add answers where answers were questions. My addled brain began to believe the questions as truth.\n\nWhy do you live and love?\n\nThe answer was clear. Where the reflections met there was no question, there was no answer, there was no reflection, there was nothing.\n\nNothing.\n\nNothing.\n\nIt was in nothing that the answer was found, and the answer was nothing. It was in nothing that I was to be found, so I was to find nothing. \n\nAt last the words stopped hammering; the questions and answers ceased.\n\nI was as I had always been and will always be.\n\nNothing." ]	1
	[WP] Hamlet consults the skull of Yorrick for advice	[ "\"Yorrick, what do you think I should do?\"\n\n\"Aahraah araahara.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Aahraah arahara!\"\n\n\"I don't know what disturbs me more, the fact that I can hear a skull talking, or the fact that its lack of tongue and lips mean it can't make fricitive consonants, thus making it almost impossible to understand.\"\n\n\"Hahahahaha!\"\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] John has suspicions that his secretary is actually senior United States senator John McCain.	[ "I stared at the prompt, feeling a vague sense of deja vu. I had seen this prompt before. But I had more pressing matters to see. \n\nThe man I was making love to seemed to be about to reach climax. But my mind was on the prompt still. \"AHHHHhhhhh!\" The man yelled, convulsing on the bed.\n\n\"That was nice,\" he said, smiling at me. \"Allow me to return the favour.\" He took my hard member and started to work on it with his hands, mouth and elbow. But erect as I was, I could only wonder about the prompt. Where had I seen it before? \n\nBut I had underestimated the skills of the man. Before I knew it, my seed was flowing out in bursts into the man's mouth. And I forgot all about the prompt. \"Secretary John, that was a mouthful.\" he said, swallowing and winking. I wanted to take him there and then again, but knew I had work to do. \n\n\"Put on some clothes, Mark. And get your cute butt out of my office.\" I said, staring at his hard cock as he adjusted his tie, and then put on some pants, and then left.\n\nI watched him go, noticing his stride for the first time. Funny, he walked with a familiar gait. I turned on my computer and the news feed started playing. \"3 Months and still no sign of Senior Senator John McCain.\" The headline read. Curious, I clicked on a video from the feed. It was a video of him walking up on stage to deliver a speech. I paused and rewinded to him walking, and nearly gasped. The familiar gait, the fact that Mark had been working for me for 3 months. Could this mean.. I was fucking the Senior Senator all this time. \n\nAnd another piece fell in place. The prompt! I had seen it two days ago. But my name was not John then. It was some other generic name. It was John now, though. " ]	1
	[WP] You're just been inducted into Overwatch. Problem is, you're an accountant.	[ "Snowflakes \n&nbsp; \n\n\nHere's a special hell, \n\nOverwatch. No-one counts clips \n\nwhen ammo respawns. \n&nbsp; \n \n\nThey say, \"Hey, Snowflakes, \n\nhire a blimp or fly a drone; \n\nclick for every kill.\" \n&nbsp; \n \n\nIt's no wonder Mei \n\nis ill-equipped. The climate \n\nchanges each minute. \n&nbsp; \n\n\nSweat, shiver and strain, \n\nuntil I check in the Brit \n\nwith a smile. \"Cheers Love!\"", "Hero: Mr. Smith\n\nOccupation: Accountant\n\nRole: Defense\n\n\"I don't care if it's a warzone, someone's gotta keep this place organized.\"\n\nPrimary fire: Staple gun\n\nYou wouldn't think that a staple gun would be a lethal weapon, but you clearly haven't had to deal with superheroic levels of paperwork. When you absolutely, positively need to fasten two objects together, accept no substitutes.\n\nShift: Briefcase\n\nWhen work takes you on the road, don't get caught without your office supplies! Mr. Smith pulls a medkit out of his briefcase, which his teammates can use.\n\nE: Red Tape\n\nIt's the future, even the office supplies are super durable! Mr. Smith lays a web of tape across an area, slowing down anyone who tries to move through without destroying it.\n\nUltimate: Caffeinated\n\nWhen you've got too much work and not enough time, Superhero Coffee is the only solution. Smith takes a drink of his special brew, and enjoys enhanced speed and fire rate for several seconds.", "Harvey leaned his head against the driver’s side window, eyes closed, and sighed. There was a pregnant pause. “Okay.” He muttered, sitting up slightly. “Okay, okay, okay. Tell me again, are you sure this is going to work?”\n\n“Sure.” offered Winston from the passenger’s side seat. “I mean, you told us to be creative in finding funding. You said we are operating at a budget so far in the red that it might as well be Russian. Which, I would remind you, is the group of people we are trying to save from the Omics. I think this is pretty creative.”\n\n“Yeah, but not like this. Creative doesn’t have to be illegal.”\n\n“But it can be.”\n\n“Yeah, yeah, okay. Okay. I just wish you hadn’t gotten me involved. Why am I driving the car again?”\n\nWinston adjusted his glasses and took a breath of patience. “Because Sombra is inside shutting down the bank’s security system. Ana is putting the guards to sleep. D.va is using her mech to help carry out the cash. Reinhardt is breaking open the lock. So we need you to drive.”\n\n“Why isn’t D.va driving?!” Harvey sputtered. “Wasn’t she a big shot pilot?”\n\n“Is this a plane?”\n\n“I--, no, but--”\n\n“Well there you have it.”\n\n“And where are all the others right now? Why aren’t they doing the driving?”\n\n“Hanzo and Genji are helping their brother move, Roadhog is at a hot dog eating contest, McCree is getting his watch fixed, Lucio is making a mixtape with--”\n\n“Why aren’t you driving?”\n\n“I’m a monkey. That would be illegal.”\n", "Epstein loosened his collar, looking nervously at the motley band of heavily armed lunatics around him. \"First thing's first,\" he said, flicking through his notes. \"I have no idea where the funding's coming from. Overwatch is, officially, disbanded, all government funding was cut off six years ago -\"\n\n\"And now we've re-formed!\" Reinhardt boomed, bringing the hilt of his rocket hammer in a resounding clang against the ground. \"To once again bring justice to the world!\" \n\nEpstein winced, and backed away from the hulking mass of armor. \"Yes, but not in any official capacity,\" he said carefully. \"As far as I can tell, this is, uh, an informal gathering, thanks to Winston here reactivating the old Overwatch communications network - I don't know why that was still active, by the way, that was obviously UN property, it should have been repurposed years ago, there's definitely some financial improprieties going on there -\" \n\n\"Look at the state of the world,\" the gorilla insisted. \"The second Omnic Crisis in Russia -\"\n\n\"Ah, so it's the Russian government funding us?\" Epstein said hopefully.\n\n\"Well,\" Winston said, grinding his knuckles into the ground. \"No. But given that Overwatch's original mandate was to deal with the Omnic Crisis, I felt it imperative that we reassemble the old guard, free of the government supervision that last led to the conflict and -\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I get all that,\" Epstein said. \"But without government involvement ... where is the money going to be coming from?\" \n\nWinston grunted and suddenly became very interested with a loose wire on his tesla cannon.\n\n\"I mean, it's sort of a volunteer thing,\" Tracer said, bobbing on her heels. \n\nEpstein looked up. \"You're not salaried? And by the way, I have to point out there are a lot of improprieties on the membership roster - some of you are legally dead?\" He shook his head. \"So who pays for - for the headquarters, the equipment, the - the -\" His voice rose to a screech. \"Where's the money coming from???\"\n\n\"Well,\" Tracer said, and shrugged. \"You're the accountant.\" \n\nEpstein pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut and silently counted to ten. \"All right,\" he said finally. \"We can look into sources of funding. What exactly is Overwatch's new directive? You plan to go into Russia, and aid them in the Omnic Crisis?\"\n\n\"That's a possibility,\" Soldier 76 said. \"We plan for a more global scope.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" Epstein said. \"You've been all over the place. Voskalya Industries, Eichenwald, Hanamura - even Hollywood! So, what are your goals, precisely? What exactly is Overwatch trying to achieve? How do you plan to generate income?\" \n\nThere was a lot of shuffling and clearing of throats. \"It's complicated,\" Winston said. \n\n\"Hm!\" said Epstein, his mouth pressed into a rigid line. He looked desperately around the group. \"No one? No one? Not anyone?\" \n\n\"Look,\" Tracer sighed, \"we're practically superheroes. Does it really matter what we do? Just be flashy enough, fly around, blow things up, keep ourselves visible, couldn't we license out our images to help pay the bills, guv'nor?\" \n\nEpstein released the tension from his neck with a long and drawn out sigh, his entire rigid body slowly deflating. \"Sure!\" he said, and threw up his hands. \"Just fight each other for no reason! Whatever! As long as it balances the books!\" " ]	4
	[WP] You are in a bar that has a list of rules on the wall. It starts off normal but becomes more and more ridiculous. Things like "no flying indoors", "no disintegrations," and "no magic in the bathrooms." You laugh it off but then start to notice things.	[ " HOUSE RULES:\n\n-No smoking.\n\n-No credit card.\n\n-No talking to the driver.\n\n-No flying indoors.\n\n-No disintegrations.\n\n-No magic in the bathroom.\n\n-No talking about the bar to people in the dark magic business.\n\n-No unauthorized use of the Crystal of Destiny.\n\n-No mundane in the bar.\n\n-No breaking the next rule.\n\n-No listening to the last rule.\n\n-No reading the house rules with human eyes (mammalian eyes in general).\n\n-No adding rules to the house rules.\n\n-No leaving the bar under any circumstance (except to pee).\n\n-No trying to find any secret message in this list.\n\n-No spreading rumors about a secret message in this list.\n\n-No talking about the content of the secret message.\n\n-No killing of non relatives (blood relatives idiots!).\n\n-No playing with the relativity of time or space.\n\n-No addressing people in any old cursed languages or in french.\n\n-No ownership is valid in this bar (no complaining about 'stolen' body part).\n\n-No summoning of ANY creatures of the outer realm (even turtles).\n\n-No summoning of ANY creatures of the inner realm either.\n\n-No saying the word 'huji'yfyhthi'ôpdkirozl'poiplù' out loud OR in your head.\n\n-No saying it even in second, third or fourth person either.\n\n-No saying it even in past, futur, conditional ,hhuio'pgf or other tense.\n\n-No writing the next rule.\n\n-[Empty]\n\n-No cooking any meat of the 'duplicated' kind or 'recycled' food.\n\n-Smoking is now allowed for homunculi.\n\n\n-No reading the list more than one and a half time.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The year is 5612 and Humans have now met millions of civilizations with their FTL technology. They all have one thing in common. Basketball. Scientist start to wonder if "Ball is life" actually means that basketball is somehow connected to all forms of intelligent life.	[ "Jim Wortzman of Earth rushed through the intergalactic academy, knocking over anyone who stood in his way. His running felt very unnatural; he wasn't used to the gravity on Mars yet. Despite being extremely out of breath, he started shouting. \n\n\"Professor! Professor!\"\n\nHis galactic history professor, Mr. Odenlox of Betelgeuse-5, stepped out into the hall.\n\n\"Calm down, calm down. What is it, boy?\"\n\nJim gathered himself. He could barely speak, but he urged himself on. He had to tell the professor of his discovery.\n\nLong ago, Jim's species, the Humans, encountered their first \"alien\". They greeted each other kindly, and began to share their species' history. It was a long and tedious talk- great historians were flown to the planet \"Mars\" in the Terran System to discuss historical events. They even founded the school that would eventually be used by millions of different species from all over the universe- the Intergalactic Academy. As more species visited Mars, their history was recorded into a database, and a computer scan was run to find common historical events. The computer always came up with the same result- Basketball. Scientists and historians had spent decades trying to understand why this was the case, but to no avail. That is, until the 3rd-year Human student named Jim Wortzman figured it out. He had rushed to tell his professor, who in turn, told the great historians of the galaxy. Jim was awarded highest honors for his discovery. His report was as follows:\n\n\"The common phrase, \"ball is life\", has been shared amongst all species, because of one mysterious historical event. Aliens had spread the idea of basketball across the universe from an event regarded as fictional on Earth- an event that had even been turned into a movie. A movie called Space Jam.\"\n\n(My first story on r/WritingPrompts, hope you guys like it!)\n(EDIT: Spacing and wording)" ]	1
	[wp] You have married 3 spouses all have died in one way, or another. Now you are about to marry your 4th.	[ " They say that the third time's the charm. In a way, I would agree. Ross was certainly charming. Roses, dancing, romantic walks along the beach under the moonlight. Oh yes, of my three previous husbands, Ross was definitely the charming one.\n I stand here once more, gazing at my reflection in my pretty white dress. Three times before have I donned this same dress. Three times before have I stood in this spot, staring into the mirror, filled with emotions of one kind or another. On the outside, all that has marked the passages of time are a few white hairs and wrinkles I now wear with pride. Inside my mind, however, things have changed drastically. The first time I stood here, I was filled with hope and joy and expectations of the future. Each time I stand here, the hope and joy and expectations fade bit by bit. Now, as I prepare to walk down the aisle for the fourth time, I wonder how much of them are left, if at all.\n Stephen was my first. He was my first kiss, my first love, and also my first sorrow. He loved his classic cars more than he loved me, and one day his \"baby\", his 73 Dodge Charger, pledged her love in return... by running him off a bridge.\n Josh was the second man I pledged to love until death, and I did. Oh, how I loved that man. Unfortunately, I discovered too late that Josh's true love was heroin, and she was the one he followed to the other side.\n And Ross. Oh, Ross. Sweet, romantic, charming Ross. Everyone loved Ross. Maybe too many...\n The memory of how I lost Ross was still fresh. Too fresh.\n And so I stand here today, in my pretty white dress, about to pledge my love and devotion to another man. Andrew is a good man - steady, reliable, faithful. And I know he loves me more than life itself.\n Or at least he had better, for I take the words \"Til death do us part\" seriously. Very seriously. Too bad my previous husbands didn't understand that. If they had, maybe I wouldn't have had to kill them." ]	1
Prompt idea inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1RvO3XcGgA	[WP]What Reason Have They To Dance?	[ "They look upon the world with a grey tint in their eyes. They see the same old thing day in day out and they wonder, \"What's different about today?\" From the tubs and the beds, under the blankets and at the foot of the stairs. They wonder. \n\n\n\"I want this to be different. I want power. To get dressed. To wake up. To dry off. To lift my foot.\"\n\n\nThey snap their fingers and click their tongues. They bang their fists and stomp their feet. For they might not have the power, but the rhythm does. \n\n\nThe rhythm does. They stomp and bang and click and snap and they hear it, a beat. It moves their feet, lifts their arms, opens their mouth, and holds their hands.\n\n______________\nSorry I don't feel like editing this. I'm not having a good enough day for that.", "The fires that burned in the distance reflected the fire in her eyes. Her smile, however, was guileless, as if the red on her cheek was but paint. But, she had never known paint, had she? She had never known art. She had never known beauty or luxury. Her education, what that it had been, had been prosaic and focused only on readying her for ceaseless toil in the hollowed out factories, still glowing with the embers of revolution behind her. \n\nHer arms, thin as they were, held onto the runt of a child. Her gnarled fingers encircled his wrists, which were thin enough that it seemed that the centripetal force might break them. But, the child laughed as his legs flew out into the night air behind them, where ash slowly floated downward like snow. Her feet, bare, blistered, and bleeding, twisted in the mud beneath. She turned, like a ballerina in a music box.\n\nHer voice, vivacious and melodic, called out the tune that quickly was caught by the others in the square. The words were in the coarse, guttural language of the plebes, but the song was light and airy. It was a tune for merrymaking and for dance. \n\nHe had not heard it before, not in all the years he had grown up near the factory, not in all the years he had overseen the plebian work. \n\nIt was hard to breathe through his broken nose, although it seemed generous to call the lump of flesh a nose at this point. His teeth decorated the ground, like fallen pearls. Blood burbled at his lips as he wondered the worth of fighting for air. He wouldn’t be able to see their dance—he wouldn’t be able to stand—if they hadn’t tied him that way. The bullet holes drooling blood in his pants had seen to that, or perhaps the shovel they had used to beat him. He didn’t know. He supposed he probably never would. The dull cloudiness encroaching upon his thoughts was likely death, yet that shroud seemed welcoming when all there was was pain.\n\nYet, he watched. He watched their dancing and their singing. He watched the woman, twirling in the square, her laughing brat stretched out before her. He watched the stars approaching from the distance. When they would land, they would belch out soldiers who would raze these pathetic, proles to the ground. The men of women of justice would put down these ungracious, foolish simpletons, who would bite the hand that feeds them.\n\nThis risible display of revelry would be brought to an end as soon as it began. \n\n“You laugh.” The woman stood in front of him, the fire still in her eyes. The throaty words of their language left its mark even as she spoke the high speech. The child, hugged her hip, pressing tight the fabric of her thin dress to reveal the bones jutting beneath. \n\n“The soldiers are coming,” he coughed, pointing with a chin broken in two places. “You will die, don’t you see? You and your boy.”\n\n“Of course we will,” she said amiably. The child seemed likewise unperturbed.\n\n“What reason have you to dance?”\n\n“Because we are free,” the child said, smiling to reveal his missing teeth.\n\n“For the rest of our lives,” the woman agreed. \n\nShe resumed singing, and the two rejoined the dance, free as jaybirds, for the rest of their lives." ]	2
	[WP] Virtual Reality has become so advanced, it can alter your perception of time. Your entire life has been a 5 minute simulation. You've just woken up.	[ "\"Now, are you going to give us another reason to bring you back here?\" \n\n I laid in a pool of my own sweat, cradling my feet in the fetal position. I had never felt so weak, or so broken. An entire lifetime in prison. An entire lifetime in five minutes. Years of solitary confinement, beatings, violations, cold tasteless food. I couldn't speak. I couldn't do anything but weep. \n\nI had been in simulation so long I had forgotten why I had been taken for cleansing. As I climbed to my feet, I collected my affects from the arms of one of the members of The Veil. Their dark suits were layered with strips of Kevlar. Only their eyes could be seen through their helmets. They held assault rifles, and their eyes never shifted from me. I wondered what I had done to warrant such a long time in simulation, although I knew they would never tell me. The whole point of The Veil program wasn't to educate you on your past mistakes. The only goal was punishment. The process was only ever intended to inspire fear and subservience. \n\n The last item in my personal affects was a large buck knife. It looked different than I remembered. No wear-and-tear in the coloring. It seemed to shine in the light. I was also curious as to why they granted me this item back outside of the door, as if I were a dangerous animal. I left with no malicious intent. Only grief filled my heart. I promised myself that once i remembered, I would never forget. I left curious and determined, but far too bewildered to know if rage was a justifiable emotion. How severe could my crimes have been? Suddenly I realized I hardly remembered my life before the simulation. Had I even had one? I knew my age, 22, and my name, Ivan. \n \n Suddenly, I didn't feel reformed. I felt provoked. I left with my identity restored. ", "George opened his eyes -- a moment of disorientation before the real world came rushing back at him.\n\n\"Jeez....\" he grumbled as he staggered out of his VR pod, clutching his head as his room's light sensors dimmed the lights to a dull blue for him. Snapping his fingers, he bought up a holographic menu and deleted the game he had just played. It had cost him a whole bunch of money, but once was more than enough.\n\n\"Yeah, I don't think I'm that much into the horror genre...\"", "\"Oh what a performance, ladies and gentlemen please, give it up for Jim Jefferson!\"\n\nRapturous applause pierced his ears as the man tumbled out the virtual reality booth and shivered as he hugged himself. Cold sweat clung to his face like a protective cocoon from the onslaught of sound and picture around him.\n\nBreathing was alien to him, he felt clear. His lungs didn't rattle when he breathed in and out, his rib cage wasn't showing and his skin didn't sag from his bones. It took him several minutes to gain his bearings before he looked up into the intrusive red light of a camera.\n\n\"What...\" His voice trailed. Somehow, the pitch of his voice had changed and it oozed charisma. The camera eagerly lapped up every movement, every slight nuance of trying to grip reality again.\n\n\"That was a great show!\" A voice sounded again, coming from behind the camera. A man stepped forward then, grinning like a cheshire cat with unnaturally white teeth. His long, curly brown locks bounced off his shoulders like he'd stepped out of a hair commercial. He clasped his manicured hands together and trained his eyes on Jim, a hint of pity in his look.\n\n\"You did scare us around 46 when you almost had that collision with another driver but you did well, you managed to last 87 years. Very impressive.\" He applauded then; somewhere in the invisible depths of the darkness, other hands applauded the valiant effort.\n\nJim Jefferson looked around, continuously glancing at his youthful hands and arms, feeling his wrinkle-free face. He had 87 years worth of memories bubbling around that were slowly fading from him. Marrying and then eventually losing his wife to cancer, the war, his failed writing career, his successful career within Car Sales, he had had an eventful life and he had lived his life to the maximum but this, this didn't feel right.\n\n\"What's goin' on?\" He said, scratching the back of his head, surprised again to feel thick, sweat-soaked hair.\n\n\"Why, you've just supplied us with enough material to last an entire season, you, my friend, are about to be rich!\"\n\n\"Wait, hold on...where am I?\" \n\n\"The BBC of course.\" The man laughed, looking somewhere in the distance and pointing a thumb at Jeff.\n\n\"Boy did you have an interesting journey!\" Jim realized then that the man kept looking at an adjacent camera just behind him. He spun round in time to see a red blinking light and the cold all-seeing lens of the camera.\n\n\"Would you care to see your statistics? See how you got on Jim?\"\n\n\"My what?\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" The man hurriedly waved away his protests before pointing to the camera behind him. It immediately projected a series of numbers and statistics on screen.\n\n\"Okay...let's see what we have here. Oh, very interesting...hmm...yes that's a cause for concern...that's very, very interesting...\" The man looked down a long list of barely readable words. One thing that hadn't changed in his 87 years was his lack of decent vision. Despite the unpleasantness, it was a welcome relief that at least something was familiar.\n\nThe man pointed to a series of very large numbers on screen. \"So it appears you have a fair amount of hours clocked for sleep. Your meals eaten during life is pretty average considering age of mortality and same goes for drinking. Time spent watching television is surprisingly low though. Most people clock in an embarrassing amount of time in front of the box.\"\n\nThe numbers continued and the tone changed slightly as the man reached the more intimate questions, reading out the private parts of his life like it were a simple memo. Jim felt like his head was going to explode but truth be told, he was utterly exhausted trying to come to grips with what had happened and now had no energy to pursue it. Despite the youthfulness of his body, his mind felt old.\n\n\"You...you violated my life? You mean to tell me that you've seen every part of my 87 years on this planet?\"\n\n\"We've seen 87 years of your artificial life inside the machine which belongs to us but you, I mean the real you, you're 23. You signed the contract saying you wanted to be on TV and now you will be. Your story is with the editing team right now.\"\n\n\"The editing team?\"\n\n\"They take your life and cut out all the boring bits and leave the good stuff. Judging by your life, you've had a pretty good one to be honest so it's going to be a lot harder to pick out 10 hours worth of material for our new series.\" He stopped then as a phone buzzed in his breast pocket. He sighed and clicked a button without looking. He continued.\n\n\"New series?\" Jim called after him. He stared into the red light of the camera and quickly looked away.\n\n\"Oh yes, it's called \"My Life\" and the best ones get to stay on for a second season. Now we've just had confirmation from the editing team that this will not be renewed with us for a second season. I do apologise.\"\n\n\"What? Why?\" He said, as two armed guards approached and grabbed him. \n\n\"Stick him in this one,\" The man said to the guards, pointing to another empty Virtual Reality machine. The crowd applauded and laughed, a bitter laugh that sent chills down to his spine.\n\n\"You're an interesting character, people like that, but you're just not as..well...idiotic than the last ones. They like idiots and you are most certainly not an idiot.\"\n\n\"What? Next time? What's going on?\" The door to the machine whined to a close and a the momentary banging quickly subsided as Jim was thrust back into an alternate persona.\n\nOne of the guards approached the man and rested his gun on the ground. \"Permission to speak?\"\n\n\"Permission granted. What is it Sergeant?\"\n\n\"Well, it's just...\" He removed his helmet and sighed, shaking his head. \"It's just you've been doing this all day. The poor guy can't remember who he is and you keep throwing him into alternate lives. I appreciate this is all for television but damn, the kid's getting his brain fried.\"\n\nThe man grinned, leaning up against the wall before grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. \"My arse is on the line here Davies, if I don't give the network decent stories they will never allow this show to continue to operate.\"\n\nHe took a drag of his cigarette, breathing the twinges of guilt out in tiny wisps of smoke in the air. \"So we go again until we find a good narrative for Jim to work with.\" He clicked a button on the machine, and Jim was catapulted back into another full human life on Earth, the previous 5 minutes just a distant dream by the time he woke up.\n ", "Mathias quickly turned the sly-drift's stealth gear down as the vehicle slowly approached it's target.While his partner Jaco sat in the seat beside him breathing deeply checking the plasma cartridge in his service issued pistol.\n\n\"Hold on Mathias?.\"\n\n\"what\" Mathias asked .\n\n\"Are you sure the informant wasn't lying,this time around too.\"\n\n\"it's been three days now,we have been looking for this guy like forever.\"\n\n\"Last four guys we blown were not even close to the real suspect.\"\n\n\"you need a new informant,probably one which isn't a stoner.\"\n\n\"hey jaco zorgo may be a stoner but he is the most clean stoner the agency has. Have you looked at some of the other dicks the agents use as informants all of those little shits are nugget-heads.\"\n\n\"Anyway mathias i was wondering why the agency is so up our asses about this one guy.\"\n\n\"24 counts of manslaughter in 2 months 5 cases of vehicular homicide last week this little shithead is responsible for shutting down 4 broadcasting towers and burned a commercial building down last month\"\n\n\"That's why when the boss sets up a debriefing you come to it\"\n\n\"You know i can't stand her mathias she is so uppity and high on her own shit all the time.\"\n\nThe slydrifter started it's descent into the mad headrushing traffic below it,As it wayward on into the floating traffic mathias quickly turned up the siren of the drifter hearing the blaring sound of an bureau vehicle the automated halt systems of all the vehicles kicked in pausing them all in mid air,All but one.\n\nThe floater with the sapphire tint.\n\n\"That's the guy!\" shouted mathias.\n\"Be ready to take the shot jaco.\"\n \"oh my finger's were getting a little itchy without the action.\" \n\"it's been so long since i used her Mathias.\"\n\nMathias unlocked the roof of the drifter, jaco stood up from the seat and started to get in position to take the shot with ease pointing his gun in the direction of the sapphire floater.\n\nHe took the shot but missed the mark from a few inches\n\n\"Shit !get me close mathias he is moving to fast.\"\n\n\"I am trying but this thing won't budge that fast he is using an mod.\"\n\nOnce again jaco aimed his pistol at the floater again and just as the drifter got slightly close to it he took the shot.\n\nJaco missed again,the guy nose dived the vehicle down the lower levels of the layered traffic system the city followed for flying.\n\n\"Noooooo!\"mathias cried \n\n\"Fuck it !jaco get back in.\"\n\n\"Mathias what are you doing!\"\n\n\"No we don't stop until we get him.\"\n\nThe slydrifter nose-dived in to the depths too.\n\n\n\"Check the scanners he might be using cloaking device.\"\n\n\"There he is hiding behind that streaming tower.\"\n\nThe slydrifter continued it's pursuit and quickly covered the distance between the two vehicles.\n\nThis time the guy didn't move and just as they approached the sapphire floater the screens of the drifter were hijacked. Mathias stopped the vehicle quickly. Mathias and jaco both heard a sinister loud laugh of the guy they have been chasing all along. After the laugh faded they got control of the vehicle back and saw that the floater was preparing to dive down again.\n\nThe guy knew he could no longer escape so he devised a plan to go down with a bang. He suicide dived into the automated commercial vehicles route.So he could blow up the vehicles aboard the route.\n\n\"Mathias also dived to stop him before he could crash into one of the vehicles down there.\"\n\n\"We have to stop him now he wants to crash the vehicle in the automated route so many would be off.\"\n\n\"What do you think i am doing jaco?\"\n\nThe floater was nimble than the sly and despite all their efforts to stop it they could not reach it in time.\n\nMathias saw the vehicle diving to it's doom and of those on-board the automatic vehicles.\n\n\"We are too late.\" jaco \n\n\"No!No!\"\n\nAll mathias could see was darkness before his eyes nothing but empty dark.\n\nHe tried to sense his surroundings and just when he realised that his brain was still attached on to his body he pulled the gear off his head.\n\n\"Mathew! Mathew! i have been screaming into your ear for so long you never listen.\"\n\n\n\"It's just been a few minutes since i went in and you are already screaming usually i hear you scream when ten days have passed in game.\" \n\n\"Dinner is prepared!!.\n\n\"So you turn it off, you have no idea what you did you just literally killed me and hundred's of people.\"\n\n\"it's just a fucking game mathew.\"\n\n\"Don't get so edgy with your mother over a game.you can resume it from the check point after dinner.\"\n\nThere is no checkpoint here how many times have i told you?\n\nYou killed my character account is off which is equal to death. you have wasted off my five years worth of career as an agent and got hundred's of people off their accounts too.\n\nHalf the playerbase might be off because of this incident\n\n\"Well it's probably for good anyway's now that you loser's are back to reality you would actually think about getting a job and getting out your parent's basement.\"\n\n\"Oh mom you fucked everyone up.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] During a war, an individual that has been arrested on suspicion of espionage has a unique explanation of why he or she is actually behind enemy lines.	[ "\"I want to see my wife\"\n\nThe words were spoken clearly, and in fluent French as well, despite the speaker's bloodied lips. He was a young German male, couldn't be older than 20. \n\n\"What?\", I asked of him.\n\n\"I told you, I want to see my wife\"\n\n\"Are you sure you aren't lost? You're a long way from Germany\"\n\n\"My wife isn't in Germany, she's here\"\n\nMy heart sank. As I looked closer, I realized I knew the boy. We had lived in the same village, before the war broke out. I remembered seeing him work the fields of the adjacent farm, and seeing him with who I knew to be his wife, obviously pregnant. How long had that been? The last time I had seen him was in 1914, score the war broke out. I watched as the customs officers sent him to be deported back to Germany. How coincidental that I had spotted him sneaking through our trench, 4 years after his deportation and many miles away from German lines. If I had recognized him sooner, perhaps I could have called off the men who beat him viciously and tied him to a chair, all the time screaming \"spy.\" As I looked him over, uniform bloodied and missing some of the brass buttons. I suspected some of the men beating him had stolen some, most likely ripping them off.\n\n\"Please, I just want to see my family\"\n\nHe kept getting more and more desperate in his tone, almost pleading with me now. I sighed and looked around. Nobody else was looking. His eyes went wide when I pulled out my knife, but he stopped struggling when he saw I was cutting him loose from the chair. He excitedly whispered his thanks in what seemed to be German before giving me his iron cross medal and crawling up over the trench, keeping low to avoid attention. I smiled to myself, knowing our town was not far away.", "The interrogation room was just like any other. Two metal chairs sat opposite of each across a metal table. Above, a single lamp that illumined the entire room. The room was barren of any wall decorations minus a laminated poster of the Miranda Rights. A group of investigators stood behind the one-way mirror, trying to figure out what brought the intruder into the city. \n\nThe man in custody, was 3 feet tall, beefy, and green skinned. The goblin sat in the chair handcuffed and bruised. The door opened once again, but this time it was a woman officer. Pale skinned, short brown hair, and hazel eyes. The goblin caught of a glimpse of her badge ‘NYPD: Magical Division. K. Blackburn.’ She sighed and opened the file. “What are you doing here gobby?” The goblin shook his head, “Gobby? That is such an offensive term for my people, I’ll sue you for that!” The detective pulled out her chair and sternly looked at the goblin with hatred. “Well you haven’t been the most forward with us. You are well aware of the truce agreement between our kinds. You are not permitted to be on the island.” \n\nThe goblin looked away at his feet, swinging them gently as they did not reach the ground. Detective Blackburn leaned back in here chair. “Well what was is it? You obviously broke through our magically barriers, were you looking to find more weaknesses in our defenses? Are you transporting bombs in?” The goblin snapped of hearing all these accusations. “How many times do I have to tell you people? I am not a spy! I’m not in the military, never have been. I’m not any special training. I’m a baker! I bake bread and cookies. My business is struggling and I was hoping to gain some inspiration here. I came here looking for the Mythical Cronut!” The detective unraveled her arms asking, “the mythical cronut?”\n\nThe goblin looked at her with a sarcastic look. “Yeah! The Mythical Cronut, apparently some wizard lives here in Manhattan and has found a way to combine the croissant and donut. All of the benefits they both bring minus their flaws, well except for the calories. It is magical item, and if I sought out the wizard my business would surely boom and my family wouldn’t have to eat stale bread ever again! NOW CAN I PLEASE GO HOME NOW!” The woman touched her ear piece and listened for a few moments. She nodded and sighed. \n\n“Alright Mr…” she flipped through the packet, “Mr. Megnurguff, we have decided to release you. One two conditions. First, you will show us where you entered from and second, you will never step foot in New York City again. Do we have an agreement?” The goblin leaned in, “If you can get me a cronut, you’ve got yourself a deal.” The detective rolled her, “Fine. One cronut added to agreement.” The goblin nodded in excitement “Good my trip was not a complete waste then. Thank you Officer Blackburn.” She stood up and walked towards the door, “An escort team will be in shortly for you.” With that she closed the door, leaving the goblin tied to his chair. Even though he was constrained he had a large smile across his face, not because he was getting the cronut that he so desperately desired, but rather because the foolish humans actually believed that goblin ate bread and cookies. \n", "My face burned, head hurt, body ached. I'd been here for at least a week, I was sure of it. I was sure we were in Berlin now, I was always hearing the bombs loudspeakers, planes, radios. Radios... The guard always perked up whenever the city was mentioned for a raid. I didn't know much German, but I gathered they think I was a spy. The man before me hit me again. This time in the gut. the chair creaked, bonds not giving way and only dug in. He screamed something German at me, all I caught was \"spy\" and I think \"Tommy\"? They thought I was an American spy, funny. The man must have gotten I didn't speak German, he stormed out, shouting something to another officer.\n&nbsp;\n\n I sat for awhile, listening to the buzz from the radio in the other room. Screams from down the hall. A man in a coat entered, carrying a case with needles. A doctor perhaps? He injected me with something, and the soreness went numb. Outside gunshots, running. Dust was heavy in the air. This felt like day 8. \n&nbsp; \n\nSome time later, three men entered, two soldiers and some kind of lab rat, from the looks of the wingmen he was important. Shorter, glasses, unkept hair. He came over and spoke many different sounding languages, scribbling away on his board. I stared at the floor, shaking my head when he'd say some gibberish and pause. I thought I heard the word \"man-whore\" and snickered despite myself. One of the guards must not have liked that, it got me a solid haymaker to the side of the head. I fell over, kicking up dust. I coughed, spitting out blood. I heard the man yelling and saw boots walk over. I was straightened up, set right by the guard that hit me. I was dazed, but aware. The man looked at me with piercing eyes. He called the guard over, and whispered something. The guard ran off, returning with a piece of raw meat. Slicing a small bit off, he approached me cautiously. It was no bigger than a table scrap, but I was so very, very hungry. \n&nbsp;\n\n8 days. \nCloser he came, why was he hesitating? Did he know something? I looked up and saw his shaking hand an inch from my face. I lunged for the food, sinking my teeth into his hand. I didn't care anymore, they'd learn sooner or later. Filthy pigs always had a habit of finding out. He screamed and hit me again, loosening my bite and letting him have his now bloody hand back. The man must have seen it. His lab rat definitely saw. He walked over. He spoke in broken Romanian, a semblance to what it was 500 years before his time. \n\"Why come to this city, Germany thinks you are a spy\" he said.\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I was hungry\" I spat. \"My name? You know me as Vlad\"\nThe guards were livid as I bared my teeth in a bloody smile. My enlarged canines visible to them all. Flithy pigs should have left me to my meal 8 days ago. Twisting, snapped the twine around my wrists, and was no longer hungry.\nEdit:Formatting", "\"I'm a hooker.\"\n\nThe general raises an eyebrow, taking another long puff of his cigar. \"You're a what?\"\n\n\"A hooker. I have sex for money.\"\n\nThe old mans brow furrows and he glares at the young man. \"I know what a hooker is. I just want to know what the hell a filthy commie like you is doing on American soil.\" He leans forward on the desk, staring deep into the soldiers eyes.\n\n\"Bigger dicks mostly, can't find those in China.\"\n\nThe other man in the room turns bright red, trying his best to keep his composure. The general, clearly not amused, turns and grunts angrily. \"Do you think this is a game, you traitorous scum?\"\n\n\"No sir, I take my job very seriously.\"\n\nTHWACK. A roundhouse catches him square in the jaw, snapping his head sideways and sending a splatter of blood onto the dimly lit walls.\n\n\"H-hey common.. don't break the merchandise...\"\n\nTHWACK. He spits blood onto his lap, head now hanging low as the last punch clearly rang his bell.\n\nThe old man tilts his chin up, looking him in his now blackened eye. \"You say one more clever thing and I swear i'll take your head off, clear?\" A hot wave of smoke billows into his face.\n\n\"I've gotta say general... your pimp hand certainly is strong...\"\n\n______________________________________________________________\n\nUnfinished, but I had to write something.\n\n\n " ]	4
	[WP] scientists have finally found the perfect lab rat. A human whose body reconstructs itself to age 21 upon death	[ "My eyelids were heavy -- glued shut, and I could feel a hot orange light burning near my face. The room swarmed with buzzing electronics, frantic footsteps and the shouts of men. I was laying on top of a hard table, I was naked. The muscles of my arms were burning, my legs leaden. For what must have been several minutes I simply laid still, my brain was drowsy and processed the sensory input around me slowly. At first I could only make out a few words at a time:\n\n\"Alive!\"\n\n\"...Sho-\"\n\n\"Complete?\"\n\n\"monitors.... now!\"\n\n\"out o-\"\n\nBut each newly understood word seemed to spark a portion of my consciousness back to life. I parted my lips slightly, scraping my dry tongue against a set of smooth teeth. I was so thirsty, I tried to call out for water but only a hiss of air escaped my throat. I could just begin to flex the tips of my fingertips, but the joints blazed with a painful heat. \n\n\"She's coming around\" - a woman's voice. It felt familiar and at once terrifying. \n\"A blanket, get me one, now! Everyone else out. And dim the lights.\"\n\nA cough sputtered from my mouth. My entire body was now overtaken with fever. I felt someone spread a woolen blanket across my body and I wished they would take it off again. The lights blazing inches above my eyelids snapped off and I felt as if I had suddenly been plunged into a dark depth. \n\n\"Iduna, can you hear me?\" called out the female voice gently. \"Open your eyes darling. It's alright, just a little longer and the pain should subside.\"\n\nAcid poured from my stomach and into my throat, I choked and burning liquid leaked from my nose. Hot tears rolled from the corners of my eyes. I was drowning.\n\nI heard someone whisper a few feet behind me, \"It's a good sign, production of bodily fluids has picked up. Mark the time.\"\n\n\"Iduna... I know you're confused darling. My name Alessa, and I'm here to help you. We've met before, do you remember me?\"\n\nI tried to swallow the sour mixture of bile and mucus inside my mouth. I felt the weight of my eyelids slowly subside and I opened them to a world swimming with blotches of swirling color. \n\n\"That's it, try to sit up now. Drink some water if you can.\"\n\nA cold hand slipped behind the bend of my neck and lifted my head upwards. The contents of my mouth spilled out onto the rough gray blanket spread across my chest. My eyes darted frantically, attempting to make sense of the world whirling around. The woman pressed something cold and wet to my forehead and eyes. I took a few slow breaths of air and felt the heat beginning to dissipate from my body's core. When she removed the compress from my face my eyes were able to focus much more clearly.\n\nThe walls of the room were painted a dusty orange and the floors were composed of chipped off-white tiles. I took in great breaths of air open-mouthed, and stared forward with wide eyes. The woman before me wore a baggy turquoise shirt and had her black hair pulled up in a tight bun. Two young girls stood a few feet behind the woman and were wearing similar outfits. I felt petrified under the harsh gaze of the woman before me. She wore a small smile on her lips that read more like a smirk. \n\nI tried to speak, \"W- whe- ahk.\" The words couldn't form inside my scratchy throat. I tried to tug the heavy blanket from my body but another person standing just beside me reached for my hand and lifted it over my head. \n\"Yes I think she's just about finished now. Let's use the restraints.\" Stated the woman who had called herself Alessa. \nPanic welled up in my chest as my free hand was taken up by a stranger standing at my other side. My arms were drawn up above my head and fastened with fabric loops. My body pulled to an upright sitting position, and the blanket fell away from my skin, exposing the front of my body to the room of strangers. More tears sprang forth from my eyes as I felt my feet being bound together and secured in place. My heartbeat grew stronger, I sobbed - \"No!\"\n\nThe woman smiled at me and shook her head. \"Now calm down dear, everything is alright. You've had a long journey, but just look at you! So beautiful, a sight of envy for us all.\"\n\nI whipped my head from side to side, a dozen men and women in turquoise stared at me. I squeezed my eyes closed, flashes of emotion and pain flicked across my forehead. I was screaming now, biting my tongue, the voice of the woman with black hair shot through my ears; a thousand different words and phrases spoken simultaneously. Visions of the woman's smirking face flashed behind my closed eyelid. The feel of her clammy cold hands against my neck, pressing my wrists hard. Sharp pains spiraled through my limbs as the memory of needles bored into my veins. My head felt as if it was plunged underwater; I remembered my own frantic thrashing as my lungs screamed for oxygen and my mind grew fuzzy. \n\nI remembered the weeks of starvation. Memories of the months I was kept strapped tight to a wheelchair, forbidden from lifting an arm or taking a step, and how my muscles withered. My bones had always ached, my skin grew pallid, blotched and yellow. Months, maybe years of restraint and restriction as this woman, Dr. Alessa Charvice, attempted to push my feeble body to the breaking point. My hair had grown lank and stark white. My nails had crumbled away, exposing raw beds of flesh. My teeth had rocked unsteady in my shallow white gums. I had hungered for death, for sleep. Eventually, it had come.\n\nBut I was never able to stave off the dreadful reality of life for long. This was not my first reawakening, and I knew with certainty that it would not be my last. In the brief respite of my most recent death my body had begun the process of regeneration again. I was to be reborn in the flames of youth again and again. I have no memory of freedom, only the taste of fear and the familiar companion of pain. \n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write a short story about a German soldier in the second world war, in the absolute middle of the battle, takes a moment to think about the morality of his countries and his actions.	[ "The man ducked as a few bullets zipped over his head and hit one of his comrades in the upper chest, who fell over and was dead within a few moments. Hanzel took his gun and fired it at the legs of the enemy soldier, jumped out, and fired another round into the male to finish him off.\n\nHanzel sighed and rummaged through the troops belongings, no extra ammo on hand which made this man a fool but instead he had a picture of a woman, a child and the man. \n\nHis eyes widened, \"What did I just do? Kill a man with a family. \" He thought to himself before looking around, the war had been right here just about thirty minutes ago but both sides had slowly began to move west. \n\n\"Why am I doing this? I've killed so many people for the sake of one man. Why does anyone listen to him? We've let him hurt so many people and we kill more people so he and his men can test them and kill whoever they don't need. Is this war really worth it? Maybe I could go and help the Americans take Hitler down a notch but they may kill me\" He sighed at his own thoughts and began to run to all the soldiers, friendly and enemies, \"Screw it. I'm going to fight for what I believe in. \" He shot at the German soldiers. \n\nThanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated. " ]	1
	[WP] You're one of Santa's elves on Christmas Eve. Santa's nowhere to be found, and someone's gotta take charge.	[ "Whispers flooded the halls of the Elven workshop. \n\n“Is he ever coming back?” \n\n“What will we do?”\n\n“The kids will never forgive us.” \n\nWork was supposed to begin several hours ago, but Santa is nowhere to be found, and the Elves haven’t a clue as to who’s naughty, nice, or Jewish. Suddenly the wooden double doors swung wide open and banged against the walls. All the elves looked up in anxious anticipation. \n\n“That does it!” It’s Alabaster. They shot back down in disappointment. “I’m sick and tired of that old loaf! Every year, every single year, it’s something new.” Scurrying along with him is Klaus, the new human secretary. \n\n“Again? You mean this happens often?!”\n\n“You better believe it stretch! And I’ll tell you what, I’ve for one had it up to here!” Alabaster gestured up to his neck. \n\n“Um, that’s not very mu...” Klaus quickly caught himself. Alabaster shot Klaus a murderous look. Alabaster continued down the hall. \n\n“Two years ago he said he thought it as the leap year. Last year he blamed it on his dog's funeral...he's never even owned a dog!” Alabaster yelled though the workshop. \n\n“Unbelievable!” Exclaimed an elf from the crowd. \n\n“He’s a bloody hack!” Yelled another.\n\n“No, you’re the hack Bismarck, you can’t even get the darn teddy bear eyes on straight!” Another retorted \n\n“Oh yeah? I’ll not get your eyes on straight either you half-cup of a woodland creature!” The whole house broke out into fights. The anger building up in the workforce had taken full effect, all thanks to good Ole St. Nick. \n\n“Saint prick!” yelled another. Alabaster and Klaus stood on the deck looking out onto the crowd. They were at a loss.\n\n“Klaus, let me tell you something about us elves.” Alabaster said in a serious tone, loud enough that Klaus would hear, but quiet enough that the other elves wouldn’t be distracted from their fighting. \"We’re generally a calm and docile people.” Klaus scanned the room to compare to Alabaster’s claim. “Because generally, Klaus” Alabaster started again “we’re not plagued by the demands of this volumetric anomaly of a pseudo-wizard. You see, we volunteer to do this work because we are plenty, we are secret, we are magic, and if not us no government would pay for this amount of labor. Socialism just isn’t there yet.” Klaus nodded in agreement. “But this man...this sad and fat...very fat, unappreciative, fat man...owns the only magical reindeer ever created by god.” \n\n“And magical sleigh” Added Klaus. \n\n“Right and magical...actually no, the old sleigh was magical, but he lost that one over the Siberian farmlands back in 1941. The Russians had an increased amount of German spies dressed up as Santa that night and we had to bail him out of a Soviet war prison. Ever since we’ve been using a regular sleigh and storage bags made from the material used for magicians hats” Klaus nodded again jotting down that note. In fact, Klaus had been jotting a whole lot down. He was making Alabaster nervous. \n\n“What are you doing?” Alabaster asked. \n\n“One second...” Klaus replied without looking. He’d look up at the elves, then back down at his notepad, then back up. He was counting them, then scribbling, then scratching his chin. \n\n“Well out with it stretch!” yelled Alabaster. Klaus motioned him to wait for one second. The elf began tapping his foot impatiently. \n\n“Aha!” exclaimed Klaus. \n\n“What!? What is it!?” Alabaster was sweating with anticipation. \n\n“Well, I did some calculations...” Klaus paused. The elf tapped faster. “And I think I know what we can do. We have nine reindeer, twelve hours until the first midnight, and about a thousand elves. If we split up two elves per reindeer, two magic bags per elf, and some jerry-rigging to keep the elves strapped in, maybe a gift cannon for the rear elf, then we can still make Christmas happen.” Klaus finished and looked at Alabaster for approval. Alabaster looked serious, he held his hand to his chin, his tapping slowed. He began to pace. \n\n“What about presents? We still don’t know who gets them or not. Without that list we have to make four times the number of toys.” Said Alabaster. \n\n“True, you’d have to deal with that somehow.” replied Klaus. \n\n“O.K. Klaus, I see where this is going...I see what you’re getting at. Some wonderful Christmas miracle. It’d be great wouldn’t it. The old elves to save the day and bring Christmas joy to all! It’d be nice, real nice...but I don’t see it happening.” Alabaster looked grim. \n\n“What?!? Why the heck not?! What do you have to lose? Besides, if you don’t do something now, you’ll never shake Santa Clause. You’ll always be underappreciated by that old bloke!” A fire was burning inside of Alabaster. He knew the pale and lanky new secretary was right. Something had to be done. The elves had to take action. They had to take Christmas back! \n\n“ENOUGH!!!” Alabaster’s yell flooded the workshop and adjacent corridors. The building shook and snow slid off of the roof. The reindeer momentarily stopped their mindless grazing to peer up at the windows of the building. “Elves! Brothers! We must put an end to this! Don’t you all see? Our quarrels are not with each other. They are with the humanoid toaster strudel that goes by the name Clause!!!” The elves had calmed down and stared keenly at Alabaster. “You see folks, we are the bringers of Christmas, we always have been. Though we’ve been treated as second class magical creatures, we keep this place running like a well oiled machine. If not for us, no teddy bears would sit at tea parties, no bicycles would waddle down the street with training wheels, no future football players would kick their first ball in the yard, and no future astrophysicists would peer out at the planets through their first telescope. We make that happen!” \n\n“Nu-uh! Not for the Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and members of the rest of the world’s hundreds of other religions!” retorted an Elf from the crowd. His friend slapped him in the back of the head. \n\n“Not to mention Atheists!” The group snickered. \n\n“Enough! All children get gifts today!” yelled Alabaster\n\n“What!? We don’t have that kind of man power!” replied another elf. \n\n“Find it within yourselves...elves!” The crowd shuffled around silently. Alabaster looked at them all in dismay. But suddenly an idea struck him. “Or...get it from the limitless supply of coffee, soda, and amphetamines that Klaus here is going to steal from the fat man’s basement in a few moments!!!” The crowd went wild. “Christmas is coming folks!!! Get the list of children’s interests and make every single child a gift!” Alabaster smiled deviously at Klaus. Klaus smiled nervously and waved at the crowd. The tension was coming off of Klaus's neck in sweat. Alabaster tapped him on the back and each pat felt like a knife stabbing him. He gulped. \n\n\"Welcome to the North Pole stretch.\"\n\nTo be continued?...\n", "The timers counting down, the sweat is pouring out, the doubt is thick in the air and the blame will be stout.\n\n\nI've spent my whole life trying to gain favor in the eyes of the red father, using others as stepping stones to get where I am. And it's hard to go high on the backs of small Elves. \n\n\nBut I'm a fake, an imposter. I can only delegate responsibility. I've made no friends and I can't scare anyone bad enough to take this cup from me. This is it, this is the price I pray for gambling with souls.\n\n\n\"SIR! IT'S TIME! YOU EITHER DRIVE THIS SLEIGH NOW OR THERE'S NO CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR!\"\n\n--------------------\n\nThat night, the children and the children at heart mourned. Had Santa died? Had love and selflessness left the world for good? A war of morals was coming and humanity had already lost. For if there was no god to reward the kind, there was no point in being kind anymore.\n\n\nSanta's still gone. I can't blame him. The pressure.. I can hear their hearts crying. \n\n\nI've been exiled for failure. My name will forever be burned in history next to Judas. The Elf Who Ended Christmas. The elf who killed god in the minds of the innocent. Santa needed me, the world needed me, and I couldn't do it.\n\n\nMy last meal. I hope it tastes like candy cane. I hope it tastes like comfort and joy. I hope it tastes like penance accepted." ]	2
	[WP] Anansi, Loki, Coyote, and Hermes all get together to plan their next big prank.	[ "2015, an unknown location. But they serve good pie, and decent coffee...\n\n\"Okay, okay, okay, alright! Shut up, I got a plan.\" Coyote made sure he had the attention of all present. \"This one, guys, this one is going to be yuuuge...\"\n\n2016, Early November. Say a Wednesday, perhaps the 9th? Yes, the 9th...\n\nLoki sat in the corner, rocking back and forth. Hermes sat staring blankly at the TV and Anansi was intermittently eating little snack cakes and chainsmoking cigarette after cigarette after cigarette. Finally Hermes snapped out of his fugue and screamed. \"Where the fuck is he!?\" Anansi dropped his cake and cursed. Loki spasmed, and then began to cry.\n\nThe door opened and in shuffled a rather sheepish Coyote. Without a word Hermes grabbed him and wordlessly slammed the other Trickster into the wall. Then he did it again. And again. And a few more times before he started screaming his rage, it was simply noise and fury and fear. Finally the mercurial messenger slumped to the floor as well after releasing Coyote.\n\nTo his credit Coyote took it in stride. The slamming had damaged the wall no small amount, and Coyote took a moment to wipe away the bits of blood trickling from the corners of his mouth and nose. He craned his neck until a resounding crack came forth and sighed. The pause had served its purpose, he made sure he had the attention of all present. He only said one thing before the rest was lost as the entire world went mad. \n\n\"So you know how sometimes a Trickster's pranks come back and bite him in the ass?\"" ]	1
	[WP] Evangelical Christians discover the number 666 on their 6 month old fetus, but refuse to have an abortion. They must wait it out to confront the antichrist...no matter how odd the mother's cravings	[ "\nThe nightmare began with the ultrasound. There he was, baby William, healthy and happy, except for a strange mark on his chest. As the weeks went by, and William grew bigger and bigger, the mark revealed itself to be a number: it was 666.\n\nThis terrified his parents. Abigail and Stuart were both members of the Westboro Baptist Church; they believed in the Bible, that is, the entire Bible, even the bits that God forgot to write in the Bible. \n\nThey held the unshakeable belief that God was on their side. \n\nBut now, for the first time ever, they weren’t so sure. \n\nThey considered their options. On the one hand, abortion was a sin, yes, and all baby murderers deserved to burn in hell. But on the other hand: what if the Dark Lord had taken root inside of Abigail? What is she was the vessel that would bring forth the Antichrist?\n\nThey decided to let nature take its course. \n\nBut nature decided to get really weird.\n\nAbigail began to crave meat: in fact, she refused to eat anything else, she’d even eat it raw. Stuart would come downstairs to find the fridge emptied and Abigail laying there, gorged, her mouth dripping with meat juice, muttering Latin verses under her breath.\n\nShe’d rant about how the end-times were coming. Of course, this was a part of her normal rhetoric, but Stuart detected something different. For a start there was that low voice she spoke in...and the parts of the Bible she quoted, bits he didn’t even recognize, strange passages about seven-headed beasts and rivers of blood...\n\nStuart didn’t dare mention any of this at congregation. After all, he’d ostracized everyone when he joined the Church, he couldn’t risk the Church ostracizing him.\n\nSo he kept quiet and pretended all was well.\n\nWas God testing them?\n\nWas God punishing them?\n\nIt was too late to consider aborting William – so did God want him to kill Abigail?\n\nBut God said nothing and Abigail swelled.\n", "\"Mary.\" Paul's voice was calming, placating; it contrasted only with the greasy sprays of scarlet on his face. \"This has to stop.\"\n\nMary swallowed her latest mouthful and burped quietly into her napkin. \"I'm sorry, honey,\" she said apologetically. \"I like saving the heart for last. I should have been more careful.\"\n\nPaul shook his head. \"That's not what I mean. Your appetite is getting out of hand.\"\n\nMary scoffed. \"Please, dear. It's natural for pregnant women to crave strange things.\"\n\nPaul paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was strained. \"'Strange things' means pickles and pineapples-not...\" he trailed off, gesturing to his wife's meal.\n\nAs the old saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and right now, the picture of Mary's dinner was weaving a gruesome story. The table was splattered with viscera and scuff marks, courtesy of the struggles of the kid offered up for dinner.\n\nMary shook her head and picked up a bone, gnawing on it in a bored manner. \"Please, dear,\" she said. \"You're overreacting.\" She frowned. \"What are we having for dessert again?\"\n\nPaul opened his mouth to protest, but noticed the abnormal sharpness of his wife's teeth and the faint waves of hellfire in her eyes, and wisely backed off. \"Senguinaccio dulce, Mary,\" he said glumly. \"Made fresh.\"\n\nMary clapped her hands. \"Great!\" She leaned over and planted a kiss on her hisband's face. \"You're going to be a great father.\"\n\nPaul laughed nervously, swallowed, and wiped the lip-shaped smear of blood from his cheek.", "\" We pray today, around this duvet, to save this family from the mark of Satan. Here lies Alice, your humble servant, whose knick-knacks and tchotchkies I told her not to purchase from yard sales, but who didn't listen, and-\"\n\n\"Hey!\" yelled Peter at the priest. \"Unfair.\"\n\nThe priest begrudgingly tossed some holy water at Alice, who lay nervously under the covers.\n\n\" I say throw em out, son. Who knows what evil things you let in with your 'discount grabs'! \"\n\nAlice chimed in. \"Fine, okay, we'll throw them out tonight. Would you please, please finish, though?\"\n\nThe men grunted. The priest continued.\n\n\"Dear Lord in heaven, unfurl the greasy grasp which Satan hath over this child. Bless this family, excluding any and all demonic entities within this poor woman's child's body. \n\nAs a sign of good faith, I, on your behalf, pledge that they will commit a TWENTY percent tithe to your earthly kingdom, of which I am the ordained liaison.\"\n\n\"What in the- get out, you greedy son of a gun!\"\n\n\"FINE. I'll see you at the baby shower.\"\n\n\"Git!\"\n\nAnd with that, the priest left their home. All was quiet for a long, long time. Alice, in a deep sleep, candles flickering at oblique angles towards her stomach, Peter on the couch, trying desperately to think of some way to see this baby into the world safely and with love.\n\nA pile of goat brains sat thawing in the sink. \n\n***********************\n\n\"Honey, baby, I think we need to prepare for the worst.\"\n\n\"Whaddya mean?\"\n\n\"Let me put it to you this way: I have a cross. On that cross are carved etchings from monasteries across the country. Its tip was sharpened by a Buddhist priest-\"\n\n\"Judas Preist?\"\n\n\"No hun, you're hearing evil things again. That's a band unfit for christians. I said Buddhist preist.\"\n\n\"That's not christian at all!\"\n\n\"Yeah, that was more of a coincidence, I just needed it sharpened. Now- shhhh. Here me out. Yes, sharpened. Who knows what sort of shenanigans'll pop out of this here body? We need to be prepared. You just leave it all to me.\"\n\n\" Isn't this just like an abortion!?\"\n\n\"No. Once it passes through the gates of flesh and tries to attack, it's self-defense!\"\n\nAlice was worried, rightly so. This was her baby, after all. \n\n\"Pass the goat brain, then.\"\n\n*********************************\n\n\"See? He's alright. Just a cute little baby boy.\" Alice said.\n\nPeter was still wary, but he knew he had to bond with the little sucker or he downright couldn't call himself a man.\n\nHe lifted the little boy with warm, loving attention, bringing him to the hospital window. The branches of a cherry tree were dropping blossoms onto a boy in a wheelchair. An elderly woman took a walk with an elderly man, quietly, in the morning sun.\n\nThen he had a thought.\n\n\"Alice. Alice, what if he really IS the antichrist, but he just hasn't shown it, yet?\"\n\n\"Then we'll lub him all da same, Peter.\"\n\nTHE END. :\|", "\"What should I do in this situation, Steven?\" - John asked his brother. \n \nThe man in front of him sighed heavily, crossing his arms: \"I don't know, John. Maybe the Lord is testing your beliefs, to see if you're going to go against his word. Maybe that's just a coincidence and what we're seeing is nothing but a peculiar birthmark\". \n \n\"I sure hope so\" - John replied. \"I pray that it is like that, but why would He do something like that to me? To my family? Haven't we been nothing but faithful? Hasn't it been said that 666 is the mark of the Beast that shall bring forth the Apocalypse? If everything is in his will, then why would he confuse me like that?\" \n \n\"Remember the bible, brother\" - Steven said. \"Abraham was told to sacrifice his son, and he went with it, because he had faith in God, and when the Lord saw his determination he spared young Isaac. Stay faithful.\" \n \n\"I am!\" - John exclaimed. \"I still am, but what does it mean to stay faithful in this situation? Even though an abortion is a great sin, many people in the commune think that it is the right thing to do to kill the child before it is even born. Even the priest can't give me a definitive answer, telling me to listen to my heart. But I know that he just doesn't want to take a responsibility for any of the outcome. Some pastor he is!\" \n \n\"Calm down, John. I think that the priest is right: it's only your burden to carry, and your call to make\". \n \n\"Thanks a lot for your support\" - John mumbled. \n \n\"Try to think reasonable: it is said that the Beast shall come from the sea, so-\" \n \n\"Sarah's father is a fisher\" - John said, embracing his head. \"And so was his father\". \n \n\"Well, that's just a coincidence-\" \n \n\"And what if the star falls from the sky on the night the child is born?\" - John roared: the conversation with his brother was not going the way he hoped it would. \"What, should I just grab the knife and slaughter my firstborn to please the Lord? To please those who are willing to step away from our faith?\" \n \n\"Don't panic, John. Remember, the Lord doesn't send us challenges that we can't overcome\". \n \n\"I'm not sure about that\" - the man replied, covering his eyes in grief. \n \n\"What do you mean?\" \n \n\"I mean that there are things that I can't explain. Sarah, she's... she's like an entirely different person now\". \n \n\"Well, that's understandable\" - Steven assured him. \"Remember, she's going through all of this with you. It can't be easy for a mother to hear such things about her child\". \n \n\"I'm not sure it's just that\" - John replied. \"I've noticed that she's started eating more meat recently\". \n \n\"It's common for pregnant women-\" \n \n\"I'm not sure that she cooks it beforehand\" - john hastily interrupted him. \"She wakes up earlier than me and by the time I reach the kitchen the meat that has been in the fridge is gone. But there are no signs of her cooking anything\". \n \n\"Well, you must be-\" \n \n\"There's fur in the bathroom drain after she takes a shower. I clean it out in the morning and it's there again in the evening\". \n \n\"John, what are you-\" \n \n\"And she's not the same as before\" - John concluded impatiently. \"She used to be so sweet, so innocent, and now... she's just vile and aggressive. She's never been like that, even when we were arguing.\" \n \nThere was a moment of silence, and then Steven, clearing his throat, asked John: \"John, what are you implying?\" \n \n\"What I'm trying to say\" - John said, fighting back tears - \"is that it is prophecized that the Beast will be born by a wolf. And I see that my wife is becoming one\". \n \n\"So... what are you going to do?\" \n \n\"I'll be waiting for my son to be born. And I'll bring the priest along. it's time for him to do some real work\". \n________\n[This subreddit, and I must say it's a really great subreddit, it really is. So, this subreddit is all about stories, and they're all great stories, they are just great, and - the are. I've been doing them for years, and I'm really great at that, you know, I am, I'm probably smarter than the rest of the people here, and I deal well with readers. And, I don't know if you saw that, but I showed my stories to people, and they all agreed that they are great, just great, and those people - you know, they're just people. Thousands of people, I provide stories to thousands of people. And if, you know, some losers or whatever, if they just don't get it then what are you going to do? it's just a great subreddit, it is.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Scandalist/comments/4n4iu6/authors_message_welcome_new_readers/)" ]	4
	[WP] Write a two chapter story told by two diferent characters. The first chapter makes no sense until you read the second one.	[ "\"BANG BANG! Bullets! Shotgun! Enemies! War! Tanks! Sir Yes Sir! Explosions! Asia! Trenches! Parachutes! Bunkers! Japan! Bullets! Parachutes! Sir Yes Sir! Pow Pow! Explosions! Russia!\" The young boy howled energetically.\n\nHis mother apologised to me, \"Sorry! He's been playing video games again!\" She said trying to be enthusiastic. \"Come on Johnny! Time to go home now.\" She said while dragging him away.\n\n\"That's Sgt. Johnny to you soldier!\" I heard in the distance.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write an Autobiography as person from an Alternate Universe.	[ "I could remember it like it happened last night. The night, we took back our nation. Summer of 31. I was a little kid then, maybe twelve. I could hear them yell and shout. The gunfire came down. My Mom told me to go to the basement downstairs. I remembered what she told me with the clarity of glass.\n\n\"Mommy?\" I asked her as she and my uncle came into the basement.\n\n\"Yes Darling?\" She said to me, she was making sure my brothers were with us. Johnny and Chad were the best kids I knew. I was wondering what she was afraid of.\n\n\"Why are we sleeping down here?\" I asked. \"Where's Daddy?\"\n\n\"Daddy's Outside, he's fighting for our family. He's probably not going to be back tonight\" she said.\n\nShe had begun to pray with me and my brothers. We prayed that my dad would get home safe after the storming of the capital.\n\nI could barely sleep at all that night. I heard explosions and screaming from above us. You see, My father was a Christian man, he told me tales of the end days. He had felt that America had sold it's soul to Mammon. He would read the Book of Revelation to me. So when the noise from above echoed into my room. I thought it was the end days.\n\nI couldn't have understand what the Revolution would mean for people like me. I had no idea. We would have food on our tables. We would have money and job's. Back then we actually had to deal with poverty. We saw crime. We saw hate and corruption. But not again.Our Government would now care for us. This was my first experience of the 2nd American Revolution.\n\n\n\nAfter the fall of D.C, My family thought that life would immediately get better. However that was clearly naive. Communist Prosperity is grown, not taken. So for the first few years of my life, things didn't immediately improve.....\n\nJack Flint (The Moneylender's Temple, 1989)\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Two people match on a dating website and meet for a date. Unbeknownst to each other, they are both serial killers who were using the website to find their next victim.	[ "Oh good, a nice burly beard, plaid shirt, jeans, work boots, slicked long curly black hair. Probably got some sexism and preconceived notions that small equals weak. I wonder what his last words will be, haha. \"Please no\"?, \"Don't!\"..? Nah, probably along of lines of, \"you crazy bitch.\" Should be an easy night.\n\nDamn. Look at that frame, I could hang that on my wall and look at it every day. I always had a thing for brunettes. They always have some dark freaky shit brewing in their heads. Hmph. Fuck, that smile is just like Chloe's. \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Phil, right?\" Laughed Monica. She brushed back some of her hair so her smile shone brightly in the low light of the Applebee's restaurant. \n\n\"You got 'er,\" answered Phil. His blood rushed with a mixture of adrenaline and testosterone. He regretted what he wanted to do with her, but he couldn't help but kill those that resembled Chloe. There was only one of her in his mind and the world had taken her away. Something had snapped that day. Anyone that looked like her was 'an impostor sent from Heaven to terrorize him'. Killing them was his big middle finger to the sky, so to speak. \n\n\"I gotta say, I was a little concerned when you suggested Applebee's. Never been to one for a first date,\" said Monica. She sat down at the table and hooked the strap of her bag on the top of the chair. Inside rested her knife, taser and morphine syringe. She liked ii when her victims started to get a little loopy from the drugs. It reminded her of all the nights her father came into her room and beat her. Every kill felt 'like sticking a knife into that fucker's heart'. \n\n\"I'm a simple guy. Breadsticks make me purr,\" said Phil. He then made an obnoxious purring sound. Monica pretended to find it charming. \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Damn, this is going to be easy.\"\n\n\"Ha ha, this impostor is good as dead.\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Lobster looks good,\" Monica said slyly. Phil chuckled. \n\n\"I know I said I was a millionaire, but a plumber don't make lobster wages,\" he said. \n\n\"Oh, but tonight's a special occasion,\" said Monica. \"It'll be a celebration.\" Phil was intrigued. There was something incredible about this girl, so he caved and they ordered lobsters. \n\n\"I'm glad you came around,\" she smiled. \"Despite not being known for seafood, this was quite good!\" Phil happily nodded. \n\n\"So what turns you on, Miss Monica? I feel like most girls like you don't want a man like me,\" said Phil. Monica smiled, brushing her hair back and then reaching for her glass of wine. \n\n\"I have very refined taste, you could say,\" she said before sipping. \"I know what I like.\" \n\n\"Mmm,\" hummed Phil. \"You want to know what I do to woman that I like?\" \n\n\"Oh, do tell,\" charmed Monica. \n\n\"I show them God,\" he said, but a too seriously. Warning bells started flying in Monica's head. This wasn't going to be a cut and dry kill. Something was up with this guy and she needed to be on alert if she was going to get him. She needed him. It had been awhile since someone reminded her of her father so vividly. \n\n\"To a wonderful night,\" she toasted, pushing more wine onto him. He happily obliged. \n\nThey then finished their meal and made their way to the parking lot. It was a dark and cool November night. The air wasn't terribly cold, but the wind stole the heat from Monica's thin frame. Phil pressed closer, waiting for the right moment to render her unconscious—he liked to choke them out. Monica was sifting through her purse with her taser prepped. She just needed to throw out a bit more charm and he wouldn't be able to resist her. That's when she would strike. She bit her bottom lip. \n\n\"You know what I haven't had in, just, far too long?\" she began and paused, waiting for him to answer. She raised her eyebrows a few times when he didn't respond. \n\n\"A real man in your life,\" joked Phil. Monica blushed. \n\n\"Mmm,\" she hummed. \"And a good fucking.\" That was enough for Phil, he went in and pulled her in by the back of her neck, tightly. As he pressed her face into his chest he felt his grip let go. He couldn't control his body as his nerves ran amok, surging with electricity. With the other hand, Monica stuck him with a syringe. Phil's large body went limp, crashing against the truck beside them with enough force to set off the alarm. \n\nIt rang loudly. Any second now the owner would be out. \n\n\"Shit,\" thought Monica, running back to her car. She looked back at the ringing truck. \n\n\"Fuck. He was perfect.'\"\n\nPhil sat in a daze, unfazed by the urgency of the man asking him what happened.\n\n\"Fuck. She was perfect.\" " ]	1
	[Wp] You meet a stranger and quickly realize you recognize their voice. It's the voice in your head.	[ "I heard it from across the room. Sweeter than a pomegranate, richer than Knox, holier than the stigmata bleeding from innocent hands. \n\nI froze and my skin crawled. I knew who it was, I just wasn't all that sure what to do about it. Every fiber in my skull desperately wanted to look - put a face to the voice, to the name. \"...And white toast, buttered thick,\" she said lightly, in the same tone I remembered from our last discussion. \n\nI clutched a dirty hand across my mouth and sat as still as I could, hoping that ignoring it would make it disappear. The waitress passed me carrying a pot of coffee, her stained apron brushing against my shoulder as she walked down the aisle. I tapped her arm with a trembling hand. \"More coffee,\" I muttered.\n\nShe was old but didn't know it yet, her make up highlighting her wrinkles rather than hiding them. She eyed me disdainfully, clearly suspicious of whether or not I could pay the bill. The waitress poured it while I turned my head. \"Oh!\" the voice called out, \"And some bacon on the side, greasy not crunchy please.\"\n\nEvery word she said was more evidence, more fuel to the fire, but one look and it exploded into irrefutable flames. She was a couple years older than me, early thirties. Freckles bridged one cheek to the other over a delicate nose. Her hair glistened like wet leaves, same color and smell. Wild green eyes looked after the waitress, playfully watching her movement as she warmed her hands on the coffee mug, bouncing her crossed leg up and down to a rhythm I couldn't hear.\n\nShe looked better than I could've ever imagined.\n\nA high heeled shoe dangled on her manicured toes as I twisted my torso for a better vantage point. She smiled as she sipped her coffee. Silver coated hands placed it back on the table, and she looked up at me with an amused expression. \n\n\"Feel free to keep wasting my time,\" she said with a raised eyebrow. Her shoulders leaned forward and I tried to avoid making eye contact with her cleavage. \"I thought we were going to have a little chat but feel free to keep staring.\"\n\nMy heart slammed against my rib cage repeatedly. \"I'm sorry,\" I said hoarsely, \"I don't know-\"\n\n\"I'm not having this chat across the diner, Charlie,\" she said with a hint of impatience. \"And I'm not walking to you, these heels are murder.\"\n\nOn uncertain feet I rose from my booth and moved toward her. I caught a glance of myself in the diner window, and had to admit I couldn't blame the waitress for her suspicion. I looked like shit. My eyes were sunken, my clothes unwashed, food from the day before had never found its way out of a beard I couldn't remember growing. In a couple steps I stood over her, her little black dress shining in the fluorescent light above. \"You wanna sit down?\" she asked, \"you're freaking out the rest of the clientele.\"\n\nI looked up to see the other half dozen or so patrons staring at me uncomfortably. I sat down. There were a thousand questions I wanted to ask, but I had to remain focused. I couldn't get lost - \"What do you want from me?\" \n\n\"What do I want from you?\" She asked. \"Honey it's been a while - maybe you forget how this works. You want from me- not the other way around.\"\n\nIt took me a couple tries to respond. \"How can you be here? I don't-\"\n\n\"You really think you're in the headspace right now for me to go through all the mumbo jumbo?\" She slurped her coffee and wiped her lip on her napkin. \"You thought you could get rid of me. You can't. So we might as well talk business. Now, you want-\"\n\n\"I want you out of my head,\" I hissed. \"I want you gone.\"\n\n\"For starters, I am out of your head - clearly. And I don't believe you.\"\n\nMy words were caught in my throat but not trapped. I pushed them out one by one, though I knew there was at least a singly letter of truth in what she said. \"I am better,\" I growled, \"Without you.\"\n\n\"Look at yourself, Charlie,\" she said softly, almost compassionately. \"Remember what we were? What we accomplished together? We had so much power and you're ready to let it drift away. We were creative, we had strength, and we knew things no one else dared to know.\"\n\nI was agreeing with her far more than I wanted to. It had been two weeks, so long but it felt longer- it must've been longer. There was no way to fit so much pain in two weeks. I felt tears rising but I bit them back along with my tongue. \"They say I'm sick,\" I whispered.\n\n\"I say you're not,\" she said. \"Who are you going to listen to?\"\n\nShe placed her hands on mine. They were warmer than a fresh kill, sweeter than raw flesh, and kinder than a painless death. I sobbed quietly as I grasped her hands back. \"Good,\" she cooed. \"Now get back to work.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Your 10 year old woke up last week with omnipotent powers. What misadventures have you had together since then?	[ "\"David, it's time for bed!\"\n\n\"But Daddy, I'm busy rearranging cells to cure cancer!\"\n\n\"You already solved world hunger yesterday, now it's time for bed!\"\n\nBeing a father was hard enough. Finding out that your son was the human host of some ancient god of wisdom did not at all ease the stress of being a parent, favors to humanity aside.\n\nDavid levitated towards me, his eyes glowing the fury of a thousand suns. I always tell him to wear sunglasses in the house, but he's always so busy with some world-changing discovery or another. He's been hailed as the Messiah, so many people have started religions in his name, although most of them are just weirdos. \"How do you expect to become the savior of mankind if you don't drink your milk?\", I said handing him a warm glass. David yawned, and the familiar thud of all the animals in the house falling unconscious from his voice alone resonated through our house. At first, I was understandably shocked by my son's latent abilities, but I've grown to get used to them. On our first day alone, my son accidentally blinked ISIS out of existence in an intense game of cops and robbers. David drank his milk, though he didn't really need it at this point, I just liked doing it for him. His body no longer needed earthly sustenance, and yet he conjured sweets for himself everyday to gorge on. Ever tried to take a god to the dentist? Half our house was trapped in the fifth dimension during that, but David was able to contain the rift in our attic. \n\n\"Dad, you think we can find the answer to life by next week?\"\n\n\"I'm not so sure I'm qualified to answer that, son.\"\n\nIt was strange that despite his omnipotence, he was still insanely curious. Omnipotence is less knowing everything, and more having a book that knows everything at the ready. Right now, my theory is that his 10 year old mind is processing the information at a much slower rate, so as to keep him sane.\n\n\"Well, whatever, I'm going to bed\"\n\nHe drew a door with his finger and a portal appeared. On the other side was what appeared to be the inside of a Panzer tank with air-conditioning and plenty of cushions.\n\n\"Good night, Dad\"\n\nHe floated down and hugged me. His touch was extremely warm.\n\n\"Good night, son\"\n\nHe floated into the rift and closed it behind him, leaving me in a house that's only half real at this point.\n\nI managed a sigh. He may be a god, but he'll always be my David. \n" ]	1
	[WP] In an office, there is a phone that is not connected to the network, yet it rings every day at 3pm. No one is allowed to answer it, but no one who still works for the company remembers why...	[ "\"Let me go,\" I gasped as the old woman held me against the wall by my throat. A bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated a bright circle of large, whirring machinery that made my iPhone look like a thing of science-fiction and cast the woman's face in terrifying lights and darks. With her skirt, blouse, and permed hear, she seemed ready to serve me a milkshake on roller skates, but the wrinkled, bony hand clutching my esophagus suggested otherwise.\n\nPerhaps I should explain: I started a job at a call center. All day the phones are ringing, but at three o'clock when the phone in the left corner sounds its familiar chime - dead silence. The boss forbids anyone from even working at the desk. Day after day we stop everything we're doing and count down each ring before returning to work. After a month of it, my curiosity and/or frustration got the better of me. I began looking at phone records, interviewing previous employees, traveling up and down the East Coast. Eventually I was traipsing through the woods in New York State not far from the big city. The phone company had pointed me in that direction, and, after cross-referencing some old maps of the area, I was then engaged in finding myself a forsaken Cold War bunker. According to an older gentleman who had retired from the company and once answered the mysterious phone, a woman was on the other line. In that time, the company also utilized volunteers - women, girls, boys - to help the government decode Soviet communications. I was on my third day camping in the wilderness when I came across the bunker's entrance, nearly grown-over, beneath a rock outcropping. I had not taken a dozen steps into the pitch darkness before a light clicked on and a hand wrapped around my throat.\n\nSo there I was, and, despite my choking and overall extreme discomfort, I realized what this must be. \"The wars over,\" he said desperately. \"The Cold War - it's done. Ended long ago.\" I could feel my eyes rolling backwards when she finally loosened her grip. I dropped to my weak legs and, when they failed to support my wait, slid to the floor. She looked at me with a stunned, lost expression, moving her mouth like she was chewing invisible pudding. Then she turned from me, fled from the bunker, and vanished into the woods. Suffice it to say, that phone never rang again.", "The minute hand seemed to rotate faster and faster. I peered back and forth, like watching a tennis game between the mounted clock and my cell, making sure it was almost time for that infamous phone call - 2:59 - Now I’m having an existential crisis. Do I pick it up? What’s the harm? No one knows why you don’t answer it. Rules are meant to be broken. I have other internships waiting in the wing that would love me. I get fired, so what. I’m a smart guy I’ll figure that out. This is just an internship. 30 days on the job and this phone is just crying out to be picked up. The second hand gliding closer and closer to the top of the clock. I feel a bead of sweat flow out of my lower back and trickle downwards near my boxer brief tag. I adjust my posture and quickly rub my lower back to dry up my sweat. Ring Ring* How many rings do I allow? One more and I go for it. *Ri – Nope not even gonna let this one finish I’m tearing this bandage off. I jump out of my seat and pull the phone like Excalibur from the stone and I answer with such hesitance I can’t imagine the other line even heard me say “Hello?” A mere moment passed of silence and then a chuckle or two, and a familiar voice I’ve heard speak a few times say “Yes is your refrigerator running?” I realize what trap I just fell into and submitted to defeat replying through my anguish “Yes…” with the immediate response of “WELL YOU BETTER GO CATCH IT BAHAHAH” I returned to my cubicle with shame and a slight grin knowing I was bested by the stupidest of tricks. At that moment I heard Manager Associate Jenkins open his door and shout “Phil take those numbers down and set her back to zero!” The entire office bellowed with laughter as the 3 and 4 on the Days without an Incident was replaced with a pair of zeros and I sulked for a moment and then let out a nervous giggle. I thought to myself, I kinda like it here. Stacy the secretary came over to me after all had settled and laughingly said “On behalf of the office, sorry we all lied to you, such a dumb prank that honestly never works, but thanks for the laugh.” " ]	2
	[WP] "I spent most of the morning coughing up blood. The trouble is I'm not sure whose blood it was."	[ "The morning sunlight shimmered brightly through the edges of the undersized curtains, I knew it was time to awake from my deep slumber. I reluctantly pulled my self upwards, it had been a heavy night before. I looked around the dimly lit room and thanked the lord that I'd woken up at my own flat for once. I slowly stumbled towards the bathroom, I had an all too familiar taste in my mouth. I looked at myself in the unwashed mirror, I looked unwell, my skin was ever paler, darks bags surrounding my barely opened eyes, sideburns starting to show, dried blood on my parched lips and an overall depressing countenance. I could feel food stuck in my teeth - if you'd call it food. I picked the flesh out of my teeth and spat it out into the sink. I splashed water over my face and started to try and recollect the events of last night. \n\nI thought I could control myself, I've spent so long suppressing the urges that even I had tricked my self into a false sense of security. Who could it have been? After a while no answers had revealed themselves to me, I decided I'd try to get some more rest.\n\nI woke up to a loud repetitive bang on the door, I could hear my landlord bellowing through the door. I, for the second time, reluctantly stumbled to the front door, my head even groggier than before, I undid the bolt and yanked open the metal door, met by a right hook straight to my nose, he got on top of me a continued the barrage of punches, when he finally ended his assault he stood up, he had a huge bandage across his face. Could have been worse I suppose." ]	1
	[WP] "Careful traveller, the world is big and the water is deep."	[ "\"Careful, Traveller. The world is big and the water is deep.\"\n\nFor the first time, the Traveller hesitates. Their face is concealed behind the opaque mask of their enviro-suit, so you can't see it in their face, only in the lines of their body, the way their stance shifts.\n\nYou've seen so many Travellers off on their journeys. Seen so many off, but seen so few return. This one, though, gives you new hope. This one hesitates, only for a moment, and you almost can't explain why you know this one will be different. This one will go, and explore, and learn. And then return, a new person built from the tiny, young frame they are now. \n\nMost of the Travellers are foolish. Brave, but lacking wisdom, and unwilling to heed the advice of those who have gone before. They see you now, old, withered, and frail, and they cannot imagine you were once in their place. Young and foolish, ready to take on the galaxy and all the worlds it contains.\n\nThis Traveller knows. This Traveller hears your words of caution, and knows that the one who spoke them stood where they are now. Stood there, and jumped into the abyss. You experienced the possibilities and did not return unharmed, but did return. And they hesitate, briefly. Feeling the fear, then squaring their shoulders and facing it head on.\n\nThey nod, and you nod in return, understanding everything in that gesture. They step into the airlock, the door slides down behind them, and they are gone. This Traveller will return, though, and your heart aches to think of everything they do not yet know, and the endless possibilities laid out before them in that vast galaxy. \n\nThe world is big, the water is deep, and the Traveller will see.\n" ]	1
	[WP] In the modern day, wolves were never domesticated into dogs. You become the first person in history to befriend a wolf.	[ "Marcus went alone to the surface. He knew that he was probably going to die, but he had to test his theory. Story tellers in Hunter's Corpse told legends of wolves being tamed a millennia ago. The tamed wolves would help their masters and care for them, but this art of taming was lost long ago. Thought about his lost art as he grew into a young man and observed. He watched the livestock eat and be eaten, and he watched people and their motives. He found that food was the commodity of animals and people and Marcus theorized that it was also the key to taming more sentient creatures. \n\nWhen a wolf was reported to be roaming above Hunter's Corpse, Marcus immediately purchased a gas mask and slabs of meat, and made his way up the stone staircase to the outside. Alone.\n\nThe surface was covered in a fog up to eight feet. Some blue sky could be seen through the fog above, but Marcus tried not think about his first time seeing it. Instead he listened. He listened and listened until a feint howl pierced the air. Marcus ran as quiet as he could among the fog as to not alert any other beasts or monsters. And when the howling seemed but a few meters past where he could see, Marcus stopped and took out a slab of meat from his pack. \n\nHe waved the meat in the air and let it slap his skin slightly. A ruffling in the grass could be heard. The fog parted in front of Marcus an a wolf as tall as he was bared his teeth at him. Although scared, he tried not to show it as he stood tall and threw a slab of meet at the wolf. It caught it in its mouth and munched on it without taking its eyes off Marcus. Another slab, and another and the thing put its teeth away. Marcus began walking away and the thing growled at him. He threw it meat as he walked toward the hatch again and the thing followed him. \n\nWhen he reached the hatch he left the rest of the meat with the wolf and went back down below. Each day he brought more to it and each day he found it closer to the hatch. After three weeks it followed him down bellow with Marcus' hand on its back. A tamed wolf like the legends Marcus dreamed about.\n\n--- \n\nThis work takes place in the world of Etharas. If you are interested in checking out other stories from that world come visit /r/Etharas!" ]	1
	[WP] There he was, conducting an orchestra which could not be seen.	[ "A drunk, out on a breakwater where the sun had long since died on the horizon and the icy black waters crashed against the coast, waved his hands manically. There he was, conducting an orchestra which could not be seen. It was twenty out and the drunk was bundled up in this oversized purple parka. Every few minutes a spray of saltwater misted the air around him and he recoiled. I always thought he’d fall in when this happened, but I’d watched him for the past six or seven Saturdays. He was still there, after each rogue wave, twirling his hands against an ocean of darkness.", "There he was, conducting an orchestra that could not be seen. \nHe wasn't crazy. He knew they were right there. He could hear them in the darkness, playing to his tune. \nAnd somewhere, out there... She was getting ready to dance.\n\nThere she was, dancing along to music only she could hear. \nThey were wrong to call her mad. The rhythm was there for those who listened, ready to her join in her dance. \nAnd spread far, across the seas... They were about to play.\n\nThere they were, Playing from sheets nobody had ever written. \nAnd the public lorded them as visionaries. But they knew they were following the directions of some other man. \nAnd there, sat in his room... He was setting up to conduct again." ]	2
	[WP] When you die and before you enter Paradise, you have to relive your single greatest regret as punishment for your greatest sin. And depending on what sin it was, you may have to do this more than once.	[ "I keep reaching for it, and she's right before me. I'm caught in a loop, and I don't know how long will this take to sink in. I already hate every second of it, I've been trying to forget it for years now. I'm holding the box, I can feel it in my hand, she's right before me with that bright beautiful anticipating smile, and I'm moments away. I can't get the box out no matter how hard I try. The sense of anticipation deflates, so much for the grand dinner and night. Six years together and it came to this, and I let it drift by. She has someone, and I still wish it was me." ]	1
	[WP] I'm a dangerous man with some money in my pocket.	[ "(My first post here, so be gentle with me!)\n\n---\n\nIt’s amazing what a hundred and forty million Euros can buy you. Winning the Europe-wide lottery opens doors – friends, cars, women, houses, holidays, and even celebrity status if you want it.\n\nBut that was never my style. I’ve always preferred to stay off the radar.\n\nI guess you could call me a misanthrope, and tell me that I don’t like people. But it’s not that. I don’t like what we have become: the disposable society; the cult of celebrity; the vacuousness of TV; all the politicians with their empty words, empty threats, and even emptier promises; the societal pressure to always upsize everything – coffee, houses, cars, jobs, sex even.\n\nAnd I despise how shallow this has made many people.\n\nSo instead of investing my money into property or stocks and shares, I choose to invest it into cleaning up the human gene pool.\n\nFour years of conducting my little hobby has only proven me right time and time again that there is nothing certain people won’t do for money.\n\nWhich brings me to tonight. Time for a little more amusement.\n\nI walk around the drab, dreary streets in the centre of a drab, dreary town in the south of England, watching the nightlife come and go. God I hate Slough. It’s a Saturday night, and the pubs and clubs are full of bright, pretty young things – gaggles of giggling girls, brave young bucks swaggering and posturing – all out on the pull, all hoping to find a mate, or at the very least, to get laid tonight.\n\nThey’re not my target. The area is too well lit, and besides I merely seek to augment confrontation, not to start it.\n\nSo I walk around a couple of corners, where the back of the clubs are quieter, and chance upon the exact scenario I was hoping for.\n\nTwo very drunk teenage men are circling one another in a deserted car park. They’re still at the bravado stage of the conflict, squaring off, trying to get the other to throw the first punch, but neither charging in.\n\nNot yet.\n\nI saunter up, close enough that they can see me in the glow of a street light.\n\n“Evening, boys”.\n\nThey both turn to look at me. I can almost smell the adrenaline coming off them, can almost hear their racing hearts.\n\n“What the FUCK do you want?”\n\n“Easy, easy!” I spread my hands in a placatory gesture. “But I can see that the two of you obviously have a difference of opinion, and I wondered if I might be able to help”.\n\nThe first young buck spits at me.\n\n“Fuck off. This is between me and him, we don’t need no goodie two-shoes getting in the way”.\n\nI laugh, in what I hope they take as a friendly gesture, and spread my hands further apart.\n\n“Ah no, sir, you misunderstand me. You see, you are obviously going to fight, and I wouldn’t dream of trying to stop you. It’s just that I wonder – if you’re going to fight, you might as well make it over something worthwhile, eh?”\n\nI pull a tight roll of 50 pound notes out of my pocket. Their eyes widen.\n\n“So here’s the deal. I love watching a good scrap, and I’m prepared to pay you for the privilege … shall we say ten grand each, plus another five for the winner?”\n\n“You’re fucking kidding me”, the second young buck pipes up.\n\n“Not at all. I mean, if you’re going to fight anyway, you may as well make a few quid out of it, eh?”\n\nI flash what I hope is my best winning smile as I see them glance at each other, and then back at me. This scene has played out over and over in the past four years, so I know what comes next.\n\n“Oh, and please don’t think you can just both gang up on me to mug me. I really wouldn’t recommend it”.\n\nI open my coat to show them the taser. I may be rich, but I’m not stupid.\n\nTheir faces drop.\n\nTo get them back in the game, I exaggeratedly drop two large rolls of notes at my feet, and a smaller one just in front of me.\n\n“There you go, boys. There’s ten grand each, plus five for the winner. Unless … of course, you’d like to make things more interesting? Care to make it twenty grand each, plus ten for the winner?”\n\n“Why? How?”\n\nI smile. “Well, in my experience these little tête-a-têtes are always more dramatic when chemically enhanced, hmmm?”\n\nI get two little bags of white powder from my pocket, and toss one to each of them.\n\n“Ever heard of PCP? Angel dust? Care to double up?”\n\nI drop three identical rolls of cash at my feet, to entice them.\n\n“No way, you sick fuck, I’m not taking that”.\n\n“I’ll do it”, says the other almost simultaneously.\n\n“That’s the spirit, dear boy! So that’s twenty grand for you right there”. I turn to the first teenager. “Now you see, if you don’t copy your companion here, you will be at a grave disadvantage. But on it, well – you’ll be stronger, meaner, and more powerful than you can imagine. Like a god!”\n\nHe dithers.\n\n“Twenty thousand pounds, remember? Plus another ten if you win”. I nudge the rolls at my feet to emphasise my point.\n\n“OK, fuck it, why not”.\n\nEyeing each other up, they open the bags and snort their contents. \n\nThe change comes over them almost instantaneously.\n\nWith a roar, the one on the right puts his head down and charges full speed at the other’s body, knocking him to the ground. He falls on top of him, landing punches and kicks wherever he’s able.\n\nBut the downed teenager isn’t out of the game. He grabs his opponent’s head with both hands, brings it close to his face, and bites down hard on his nose. Blood pours from the wound, covering them both in red. \n\nThe game is on.\n\nI stand, and I watch, as the scene plays out in front of me. I hear bones break. I see ears physically ripped off. And of course, I watch the blood flow.\n\nThis is just like all the other times, but I never cease to marvel at two things. Firstly, at just how psychotic someone becomes under the influence of PCP. Secondly, at just how stupid the human race is. That there are people out there who are willing to risk injury, facial scarring, paralysis or even death for twenty grand. And it’s not just these two – I have seen this scenario play out hundreds of times across numerous countries, and it’s always the same.\n\nMan is stupid. And by removing the stupidest of us from the gene pool, I like to think that I offer a public service.\n\nI’m brought out of my reverie by a howl of triumph. One of the men – I can’t tell who now, they are both so covered in blood that they are virtually indistinguishable – has laid out his opponent for the final time. The loser lies motionless on the tarmac. I can’t tell whether he’s unconscious or dead.\n\nThe victor staggers to his feet with a possessed grin on his face, and starts to shuffle towards me.\n\n“There, I did it, now give me my fucking money”.\n\n“But of course, dear sir. There are your winnings”.\n\nHe laughs dementedly, and I wait until he’s just bending down towards my feet before I taser him. He shakes and jerks, then falls to the ground, thrashing. I make sure to keep the taser firing a few seconds longer – there’s no way I want some drug-fuelled crazy coming after me.\n\nHis body goes limp, and his eyes roll up into his head.\n\nI bend down, and pick up my fifty grand. Tucking the rolls back into my pockets, I head off towards the train station.\n\nI’m bored of Slough. Tomorrow, I think I’ll try Birmingham." ]	1
	[WP] You're an immortal Welshman named Hugh Williams. In five days you have to sail just off the coast to face your only immortal enemy.	[ "\"Are you ready, my lord?\" Was I ready? How does one ready oneself for a battle they know will last eternity? I shook my head and raised my eyes. My gaze traveled over the dust covered tiles of the ancient Welsh castle that had been my home for a thousand years, over the inlaid designs, to the road weary boots of my only friend, up into the deep set eyes of his face. William looked so old, barely 90 and already he was so wrinkled. Humans were such a fragile bunch. \n\n\"Why not? Might as well get this over with.\" I slowly rose from the throne which had been my rest for these long years, feeling the creaking of age and time as my long still bones shook off their slumber. I stood with a heavy sigh and grabbed my hammer, a simple block of Heartsteel on a haft of True Oak, feeling the trusty grip of the tool that had forged empires at my hand. As I stood, William backed a step and dropped to a knee, his hand over his breast in a simple salute. The move was well practiced, but he couldn't hide the grimace of pain as he bent his old body. I scoffed and waved him up.\n\n\"Get up, William. I haven't deserved that in a long time.\" William stubbornly remained kneeling, his bowed head revealing a bald and liver-spotted cranium. \n\n\"As my ancestors knelt, so I kneel. Until the world ends.\" I groaned. His family, the last of the true children of this land, were my first servants; and even now they served, cowtowing to the whims of a statue, immobile for hundreds of years. Such a burden. I never should have left my home. \n\n\"William, you know where I am going?\" He raised his head then, but remained kneeling, a pose that could not have been kind to his old bones. \n\n\"Yes, my lord, to face Him. For the last time.\" I sighed again and nodded, swinging my hammer in a slow arc to move the muscles.\n\n\"Yes, and I shan't return. I leave the castle to you now, to your sons and their sons.\" William bowed his again in acknowledgement, still stubbornly kneeling. \n\n\"Until your return, my lord.\" The stubbornness of this old fool. He would do it too, he would hold a throne that could conquer the world, and never believe it his. He and his line would be reagents for a lord that would never return. \n\n\"I won't return, William. You know this.\" He knew. His father knew. His mother before that. All of them knew, from the first moments of our pact, that I would eventually leave. Still, they chose to worship a Father that they knew would abandon them. Fools. Lovable fools. \n\n\"As you say, my lord. We shall wait.\" I groaned, but nodded nonetheless. \n\n\"So you say. Farewell, old friend. Now get up, and bid me the farewell I deserve.\" William rose then, a slight grunt of pain passing his cracked lips as he stood. His blue-green eyes met mine then, and suddenly I saw him as a small child again, his tiny hands grasping mine as I sat in silence. We had never spoken before this moment, that of my departure, but I knew every moment of his life. He would come to me, first as a babe, and then frequently as he grew, telling me the stories of his life and the World. As his Grandfather, and his Grandather's Grandmother, and all of his ancestors had done, William was my Memory. Every day he told me his day, and when he was gone, he would come first to me on his return. Before he even held his child for the first time, he came to me and told of its birth. In the last year, his granddaughter, a babe herself, had accompanied him, her tiny hands grasping mine. It was the only sadness I felt as I left, that I wouldn't get to hear the life of Olivia, the 33rd Memory. \n\nWilliam was the first Memory in over a thousand years to hear my voice, and he would be the last. As he stood formally, I dropped my Hammer with a dull thud and embraced the old fool in front of me. His face betrayed his shock, but then he hugged me back, and for the first time in 1200 years, I felt the warmth of humanity, and remembered again why I had come, and why I had to leave. As we parted, his eyes were filled with tears, but his gaze was strong, bowing deeply.\n\n\"Goodbye, my friend.\" I patted him on the shoulder as I picked up my Hammer and walked past.\n\n\"Goodbye, Hugh.\" My name... I had nearly forgotten it after all this time. Hugh... How many ages had it been since I heard that name? I nearly faltered then, nearly turned back to talk with William, but I couldn't. His family deserved that much. Their sacrifice deserved nothing less. As i walked past the great stone gates of the throne room, I passed row upon row of William's clan, their formal armor gleaming. The castle outside the throne room was unrecognizable, but that was to be expected after all the centuries. A bustling mansion full of life and light. His clan had done well for themselves. As I passed, each of the honor guard that William had brought bowed formally, and I nodded to each. \n\nAs I passed through the Grand Hall, and the Entry, down the Stairs of Fate into the city itself, I was still flanked on either side by gleaming sentries. It wasn't until I was through the now bustling city and past the Doors of Night that my honor guard fell away, not extending their reach into the wilds of the Welsh countryside. Their domain was the Hidden City. Just before I left for the last time, I heard a baby's cry, and turned to see little Olivia, clutched to the breast of William. Tears filled his eyes, and he held Olivia up to me. I reached a gloved hand out and gently caressed her head, tracing the mark of hope across her forehead. There was a brief glow as the rune activated, and her cries were quieted. As the rune faded, she beamed up at me with the same blue-green eyes of William. I smiled down at her, and then at William. With a last nod, I turned and set out, towards my destiny. Towards Him. \n\nOur fight would last till the end of time, but while we fought, William and Olivia would live in peace. It seemed a fair trade to me. ", "A day of reckoning is at hand. My day of reckoning, and how I've longed for it. Thrice on the 5th has my ship sank, and thrice on the 5th I walked away alive. But not this time. This time I die.\n\nPoseidon himself pressganged me into his service, to deliver soul after fucking soul in exchange for a few more years with mine. I led countless men to their death, chasing the sirens call to glory; no glory. No siren. Only death.\n\nThe rain falls and stings my cheeks. The rum burns my throat. My eyes set steady on vengeance, or vindication. Today the real devil dies, and that devil is me. Blood will flow freely and I'll ride this sea whore to the locker and shove it into Davy Jones myself.\n\nWaves. Winds. The screaming sky and the wailing sea. In the black of night; I'm going home." ]	2
	[WP] you are walking through a forest and feel a sudden pain in your chest. You collapse as your skin starts to darken, hardening and cracking, a scaly pattern forming along with a very leathery feel. Your bones are heard breaking and shifting in some sort of metamorphosis	[ "Danaë had tried to throw the hunters off her tracks. It was difficult. Thus far her aunt had predicted her every move. Like a giant chess game in which her aunt held all the power, she had cut of Danaë's attempts at retaliation before any had fruit. Now it was just Danaë. Alone. In the woods. Leading her aunt's hunters in a merry chase.\n\nThey weren't far behind. She could hear their calls, and felt the blood rush to her face when she discerned their words. Having them catch up to her was not an option she could afford.\n\nWith nimble feet, Danaë cleared a pile of fallen trees. As yet another branch tore at her skin she charged through the pain and deeper into the forest. It was clear why the hunters could track her so well, she had little time to obscure her path. Her priority was speed and distance over concealment.\n\nThe changes were subtle at first. The trunks she dodged were growing larger. The ground beneath her feet was softer and a healthy blanket of moss covered the floor. It was close. The one place that her aunt couldn't account for. If the hunters knew what was good for them, they wouldn't follow Danaë here. She tucked her head down to avoid a low hanging branch. Soon. She just had to last a few more minutes.\n\nHer face flushed again as she heard the men invite her to 'join them'. The sour tang of blood in her mouth made her realize she'd bitten her lip in frustration. Turning her head she spat into the shadows, trying to clear her mouth. Several heartbeats later, she spotted it: the border, rather large boulder on the edge of a brief clearing, just ahead. Danaë didn't stop to think about the impending consequence. She would accept it when it came, so long as the hunters didn't get her.\n\nThe first few steps past the rock and nothing happened. The delay was misleading. It gave her hope that she'd have time to take shelter on the other side of the clearing. It also caused her to panic a moment. If nothing happened to her, how could she guarantee her aunt's pawns wouldn't follow? Danaë let neither of these thoughts paralyze her legs.\n\nShe'd just about reached the other side when it struck. A pain through her chest, simultaneously coinciding with numb feet. Danaë slipped, landing heavily on the uneven moss.\n\nFor a second she was disoriented. The shock of her collapse caused her brain to erase all memory of her flight. Then it was back. She scrabbled at the twigs and stones hidden beneath the green around her. She was so close. So very close.\n\nIt was a struggle to pull herself across the floor of the clearing. There were no good handholds, the moss just ripped away in her hands. Even now, the pain in her chest threatened to sabotage her efforts. Finally, she managed to roll enough to the side that she wasn't in the immediate line of sight coming into the clearing.\n\nWhich was good, because the numbness was spreading." ]	1
	[WP] You're 99.999% sure you have superpowers. Obviously, if you were 100% sure, your life would be completely different.	[ "\"So like, I'm 99.999% sure I have superpowers. I call it the Schrobob's superpower. So I learnt in class this schrodonger's cat theory today in class, about this donger guy putting a cat in a box and then it's alive and dead cos nobody knows, but if you open the box and you know then it is confirmed. Then I thought, what if it's alive and dead and cat and not-cat at the same time? Then I thought even more! What if I had superpowers but because 100% I'm sure, I don't have superpowers? That means I have to be 99.999% sure and not 100%. Obviously, if I were 100% sure, my life would be completely different, but I'm a genius. So I'm 99.999% sure I have super powers. What do you think?\" \n\"Bob, you're an idiot.\"", "\"There's just no way I don't have superpowers, is there?\" I question to myself as I get on the sidewalk to walk to my local convenience store. \n\nAs I'm about to cross the street, I stop for a moment and fix my hair, only to have a car miss me by inches. \"Oh, I MUST have precognition or something! I can see the future, of course!\"\n\nSo I cross the street, dead set on the belief of my power, I attempt to use my power once more as I get in front of the seven eleven. \"An old man WILL be at the front counter! I can see it!\"\n\nWell, let's just say I was wrong.\n\nInstead of an old gentleman handling the counter, it was a young girl, no older than 21, with a nameplate that said \"hi, I'm \"Ashley\".\"\n\n\"Hmm, I guess I don't have precognition...\" I thought quietly to myself, walking slowly into the convenience store with a loud \"ding-dong!\" accompanying my steps.\n\nI decided to get myself some gum, the cherry type I love so much.\n\n\"Oh snap, lucky me, last pack in the box!\" I say quietly to myself, happy about my slight luck.\n\nI decided to also get myself a bag of ice, as I needed to fill my cooler for a party I would attend later, fortunately they had an 8lb bag for 6.99, coupled with the gum that was 1.29, I had exactly the amount of cash on myself to pay for the items; tax included. \n\nWell, I was having a good day.\n\nA guy that was no taller than 6 feet walked into the store in a large jacket and a baseball cap for the Texas rangers. I saw him approach the young girl and pull something out of his jacket.\n\n\"Money.\" He said, with a gruff yet authoritative voice.\n\nImmediately the girls eyes grew to the size of an anime characters. She didn't seem to take pressure very well, as her eyes immediately welled up with tears.\n\n\"O-O-O-Ok! D-d-don't hurt me p-p-please!\" She wailed out, covered in tears.\n\n\"This is my moment!\" I thought to myself, ready to unleash my power to save this damsel in distress.\n\n\"Sto- WOAH!\" I attempted to say, but I slipped and dropped my bag of ice on the floor, fortunately for myself and the girl at the counter, the ice bag broke and the individual pieces went far enough to slip on to the ground underneath the robber.\n\n\"Hey, what are you doing!?!\" Shouted the robber, but his words didn't matter, as he slipped on the ice and fell to the ground, dropping his gun which conveniently fell in front of me. \n\nInstinctually, I grabbed the gun and told him to put his hands behind his head.\n\nAs the police later arrived the girl came up to thank me for acting.\n\n\"Thanks, you were pretty \"cool\" there.\" She said, dropping an obvious pun.\n\n\"Heh, yeah, thanks...\" I said fairly weakly, I didn't exactly expect to stop an armed robbery today.\n\n\"Uhh, I feel like I've seen you before, do I know you?\" I asked, since she appeared familiar.\n\n\"I go to Place College, do you?\" She asked.\n\nWhy yes, I do.\n\nAfter some chatting, we exchanged phone numbers, we actually had some classes together and we started dating a few weeks later.\n\nAs I left the store, I found a twenty dollar bill on the ground.\n\n\"Man, this is great, I must be a magnet for stuff, that must be my power!\" I thought to myself, smiling intently.\n\nOf course, I was wrong, it would take a long time, but I would eventually find out about my power of ultimate luck, but that's a story for another day.", "I shouldn't be here right now. \nThere is no reason I should be alive. At this point, it can't be a coincidence anymore. \nMy first attempt was back when I was a young teenager. My life was a living hell. Some of the kids called me their \"friend\" to my face. They pretended to like me, but they didn't know me. Nobody actually knew me. If they had to deal with what I did every single day, they would have broken just as fast. At least they tried. Other kids were awful. Or just more honest, I'm not really sure. They'd tease me, push me around, make fun of me. It was all a joke to them, I guess. They'd say hurtful things, and laugh it off. They'd get pleasure from my pain. After a while, it stopped hurting. I didn't feel anything. Everything felt pointless. When I looked into my future, I just saw grey. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing to get excited about. Just, nothing. It became too much. I felt my life wasn't worth the space my body occupied. \nOne night, I stole a big bottle of alcohol from my parents and drank the whole thing as fast as I could. I passed out, but I woke up the next day, just fine. \nAnother night, I took every pill I could find from the medicine cabinet, and downed them all at once. The next day I was fine. \nI tried cutting myself deeper than I ever had before. And again, and again, and again. Still nothing. I never even got a scar. \nI tried everything, and still I was fine. I jumped into an icy river, and washed up on shore unharmed. I survived a fall from a considerably high height. I dangled from a noose all night. I survived being hit by a car, a city bus, and even a train. Nothing. \nI watched a bullet entry and exit wound on either side of my head slowly heal over the course of a few weeks, without even a scar. \n\nToday, not much has changed. My life is as much a mess as it ever was. At this point, i'm 99.999% sure I am invincible. On my bad days, it's a thought of despair, like being trapped in a dark tunnel with no way out. On my good days though, it is a spark of hope. I imagine what I could accomplish if I truly was invincible. I could do anything I wanted. I could commit any crime. Steal anything I wanted. Get rich and famous. Or, if I really wanted to help people, I could get some scientist to pay me to study my genes. Maybe they could cure diseases and shit, I don't know. I could even put on tights and fight crime. I wouldn't wear a mask. I already wear a mask every day, hiding who I really am. It's called a smile. \nAfter every attempt, I get more and more sure that I can't be killed, and the spark inside me grows. You'd think it would make me feel safer, but it doesn't. The surer I get, the more afraid I am. Afraid that it's not true. Afraid that it's all just a big coincidence. Afraid that the next time I attempt, it will be the time I finally succeed. \nIf I were totally sure, things would be different. If I was totally sure, I could live my life however I wanted. If I was totally sure, I could be happy. \n \nOr, at least that's what I keep telling myself. ", "I guess I should explain; I have really good luck. Not the kind of luck that involves me finding a twenty dollar bill when I'm broke or someone paying for my meal unexpectedly, but the luck that involves me almost dropping my grandmother's plates and catching them all before they hit the ground or when I just happen to out swim a shark the one and only time I went swimming at a beach. This luck is logical though, I mean once I ran out of gas in the middle of some train tracks and I was able to push my car and myself out of the way in time but you hear stories like that all the time about someone's adrenaline was pumping and they did what they had to do to survive.\n\nI guess if I had a power then it would be survival because my grandmother would have murdered me ten times over if I had even chipped those plates and I'm not exaggerating. This one time I was walking home at night, minding my own business, and I noticed a person was following me. I would turn a street and so would they so instead of going home I tried to see how long they'd keep it up. I walked all the way back to the downtown district and so did they. I stopped at a gas station to get some gum, they bought a soda. I stopped to look at pamphlets at a nearby theater for a local production for that following week and they stopped to admire the mannequins in a closed studio next door. Eventually I walked down a dead-end, I don't go downtown all that often, and the next thing I hear is a gun click and my heart stops. I turn around and they fire at me. I swear to you, I'm not sure what the fuck happened. One moment I'm frozen and the next I'm dodging this damn bullet. Then I run because the jig is up and playing follow the leader is fucking overrated.\n\nThe thing is nothing has ever happened to me, I didn't get bit by a spider or jumped in hazardous chemical waste. I have pictures of my mom pregnant with me and I look just like them, and have my dad's asthma to boot.\n\n I'm not doing anything specific like climbing walls or even flying and there's no televised superheros on tv that prove that powers actually exist. What would mine be anyway? Good reflexes and sometimes strength? I should pursue a career in baseball then. \n\nSo when Danielle asked me out, I knew it had to be a joke and nothing special would happen to me to make me this great guy or even popular in some way for a girl like her to go out with me, I'm just a male Carrie - call me Carl.\n\nWhen I see buildings on fire, I stand back and let the professionals handle it because who wants to be the guy that died being fucking stupid? Oh poor kid! Didn't his parents tell him to not run into a burning building without the proper protection? He must've been on drugs, to bad we can't do tests since his body is burnt to a crisp.\n\nMy life could be different if I knew for sure I had powers, but it's 2016 and I'm not taking chances with fate.", "'What do you mean?, do you have superpowers or don't you.\"\n\nSigh knew i should have kept quiet about this but i needed a second opinion.\n\n\"I'm 99% sure, but not a 100%, i mean i have powers of course, but are they my powers. Who knows.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well lets say i lift up a bus, is it then me lifting up the bus, is it some being simply decreasing the weight of the bus for me, or even some kind of unknown possession on me that's doing it.\n\nWouldn't it be silly if i tried to lift a bus and it turned out i couldn't because some change in my pocket gave me that ability, or whatever being that toys with me simply decided not to help this time.\"\n\n\"But couldn't you test for that, i mean lift a bus naked or something just to see if you could.'\n\n\"And find out halfway though it was some prank, as i stand there in the buff trying to lift a bus, wouldn't be able to show my face around town anymore now would i.\"\n\n\"Well has there ever been a time where your powers didn't work?'\n\n\"Not that i know of, i mean i don't use it all the time, but there could be a time it doesn't work, do you think its time based?'\n\n\"No, i'm just trying to find out what brought this on.\"\n\n\"Wouldn't it bother you?\"\n\n\"Not really but after all i don't have any powers.\"\n\n\"Sigh well thanks for listening anyway.\"\n\n'No problem.\" \n\nThat was close, he almost caught on to us." ]	5
	[WP] People have five luck points to spend during their whole life as they choose. You realize, after spending all five of yours on a drunk night on the town, that yours recharge.	[ "\"Holy hell. This is amazing!\"\n\n\"What is it Brett?\"\n\n\"I just found out that those luck stars recharge!\"\n\n\"You... didn't know that?\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"It's like I've been telling you for years, man. You're life's just boring. You went 13 years without needing 5 luck stars in a day. Do you have any idea how hard that is? I burn through all of mine damn near every morning.\"\n\n\"It may have taken me a little longer than most to realize this, but you're right. From this day forth, I'm gonna be a new Brett. A different Brett, a more spontaneous Brett. You just wait, it's gonna be fantastic.\"\n\nAnd from that day forth, Brett was a new man. He was trying things he had never done before, and was more successful in his life than he had ever been. This success carried through the rest of his days, even after the \"Positronic Star\" system was recalled for \"facilitating unsafe risk.\" His story was one of inspiration to those who knew him, a message that every once in a while we should all count our lucky stars.", "Congratulations! You've gained the Gambler's Blessing! Due to this Blessing, you will gain five new points to spend every morning!\n \n..What? Why? How?\n \nBy spending all your luck points in one shot, you became lucky enough to earn a Blessing. The type of Blessing you receive is dependent on the circumstances around the expenditure of your points and what type of luck you spend them on. In your case, you received the Gambler's Blessing because you decided to frivolously and foolishly spend all of your points in an all-or-nothing gamble to improve your luck at gambling!\n \nNo way. I just got 5 more points? And I'll get another 5 tomorrow! And the day after that, and after that...\n \nholy shit. People would kill for this kind of power. And what's worse, I'll-\n \n\"Oof!\"\n \nI bumped into someone and looked down, only to find a young girl sprawled on the ground. She didn't look too badly hurt, but was on the verge of tears nonetheless.\n \nWell. Crap. Guess luck at gambling doesn't apply to much else.\n \n\"Um, excuse me, are you alright?\" I said, as gently as I could.\n \nShe shook her head quickly, as she slowly tried to get up. It was at about that moment that I realized she was alone.\n \nWhere were her parents?, I wondered. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm kinda thankful. If her guardians were here, I don't know how I'd deal with their anger. Considering my luck with social interactions, they'd probably sue me.\n \n\"Um, excuse me? Where are your parents?\" I asked politely. She was wiping her face clean, trying to get rid of the tear stains. I guess that was an improvement? At least she wasn't bawling.\n \n\"Don't haf' any.\" she exclaimed with a huff.\n \n\"You don't have any? So you just live alone on the street?\" I asked incredulously. Was this kid an orphan, a street rat, or both?\n \n\"Nope. Just me and the nice man!\"She proclaimed.\n \nHer demeanor just took a 180 degree turn. That's both relieving and disturbing. Wait...\n \n\"Nice man? Where is he?\" I was cut off by the sound of giggling.\n \n\"No, silly! Nice man's here!\" she laughed, tapping the side of her head.\n \n...Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. It's just her Inner Voice.\n \n\"Oh, I see! Did the nice man tell you anything?\" I asked, trying to play along as best I could. I think it worked.\n \n\"Mm-hmm! Nice man told me he could make me good at stuff-\" she babbled, pausing to take a breath.\n \nOh. Oh wait.\n \n\"so then I asked if I could be good at anything\" Breath.\n \nDon't tell me she-\n \n\"and he said yeah so I told him I wanted to be good at making friends\" Another breath.\n \nOhhh, this is bad news.\n \n\"so then Nice Man asked how good I wanted to be so I said I wanted to be the best at making friends\" Breath.\n \nWait. But the-\n \n\"and then later I bumped into you and that hurt but we're friends now so that means Nice Man was right!\" she finished.\n \nYep. This was Bad news, with a capital B. This girl just wanted friends, and she found me in under 30 seconds flat. What chance did I have against people like the Web?\n \nThat settled things. I had to get out of here, ASAP. Probably specialize in hiding and running. Definitely putting some luck into dealing with social situations. \n\nBut there was a problem. I couldn't just leave this girl here all by her lonesome. They'd come after her just as hard as they would against me, since she'd be so easy to use in order to manipulate. 5 points of luck in friendship? They'd be all over it; probably befriend her and just keep her around for the secondhand diplomatic benefits of her luck. I had no choice but to bring her along with me. Not if I wanted to sleep at night, anyway.\n \nI snorted. 5 luck points of friendship indeed. I'd barely known her for a minute and I was already resigned to bringing her along with me. Oh well, with her around, I'd get better at making friends, and she'd get better at gambling. It wasn't exactly fair, but it was a win/win.\n \nI immediately spent my newly minted luck points; 2 luck points into staying safe, and 3 luck points into hiding. Hopefully this would keep us somewhat safe for the time being, as long as we stuck together.\n\nI looked down at the girl. I really hadn't noticed it before because of my rampant paranoia, but she was absolutely disgusting. She looked like she hadn't taken a bath in months, maybe years.\n \n\"Hey girl, what's your name?\" I asked, trying my best not to gag.\n \n\"Samantha!\" she declared proudly.\n \n\"Well, Samantha. Nice to meet you, I guess. Sure wasn't expecting it. My name's Colin. I'll be honest with you, there are some bad people chasing me right now, and I think they might be after you too. I can't believe I'm saying this, but...come with me if you want to live.\" I finished lamely.\n \n\"Oh. Okay! Let's run away!\" She said conspiratorially.\n \n\"Wait, really? Just like that? You're a street rat, don't you know better tha- actually don't answer that, you'll probably say something inane like \"You're my friend, and that's what friends do\".\" I said frustratedly. \"Anyways, come on, my house is that way.\"\n \n---\n \n\"Wow, your house is soo big, Colin! How much money do you have? Lots?\"\n \n\"Eh, it's nothing much. Come inside.\" I said calmly.\n \nWhat's sad is that Samantha was probably my first guest in years. Family etiquette dictated that I treat her with respect despite her age, and that I give her a proper meal.\n \nYeah, well, first she'd have to take a shower at the least, then we'll talk about that. And after that, well...\n \nThis house probably wouldn't be safe for long. We'd have to pack up, and head out on a bus.\n \n\"Colin, what's wrong?\" Samantha asked, breaking me out of my stupor.\n \n\"Hm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the future.\"" ]	2
I'd like to see what you guys make of this :) EDIT: the one new post is on Reddit. Forgot to clarify.	[WP] You wake up one morning and find that everyone in your house is still asleep, and won't wake up. Only it's not just your house; it's the whole world. You decide to hop online and see if anyone else is awake. You find one new post, titled "Anyone else awake?" It has 3 comments.	[ "John was slicing open a body, preparing it to be eaten. He ripped out the bowels, and put aside the heart and liver. He then separated the skin from the meat sliced from the ribs and stomach area, his favorite. This wasn't to be eaten immediately, but for dinner, with his disemboweled family. \n\nJohn's sanity was still in there, but it was the cry of stranded people yelling to an airplane. \nAbout a week since waking up, the voices started encouraging him to prod at the sleeping. They promised it would make the screeching go away, and it did! Surely it was a victimless crime, and it was only fair to assume the world wouldn't wake.\n\nIt never did.\n\nWhen everyone else fell asleep, only five awoke again, and they were connected. They couldn't contact each other, but there was a pulse, and each pulse were different than the other. This bothered john. The world was his now, and the rest had to die.\n\nOn occasion the pulsating got stronger, and John guessed he was getting closer to the others, so he would have to follow it. After dinner he would leave his family and search for the others.\n\nThey were nearer than he thought.\n\nJohn finished eating, and set off. To the east was where the pulse got the strongest. He moved across the field that was two blocks from his home, then into a neighborhood right across. The pulse was the strongest here since it stared. Before the mass coma, John actually never left the home. His mom was a bitch, and his father never failed to reach new extremes. John never got to leave the house, so this was exciting for him. He walked down the street right across from the field. Every yard had wired fence, and the houses were littered with graffiti. One house interested him in particular. The front lawn scattered with all sorts of dead animals. Cats, dogs, all killed in the most inventive of ways. John smiled. \n\nIt was getting dark, and he could see someone lighting a candle through the living room curtains. He blatantly walked to the front door and knocked. A woman opened the door.\n\n\"Hello\", he said.\n\n\nInside the house was surprisingly well kempt. The inhabitants seemed jittery, an uneasy, excited kind of jittery. It's been awhile since another person walked through their front door. Inside were two women and two teenagers, both male. John guessed the ages were fifteen and sixteen. They didn't speak, and they were dirty and full of blood. This is going to be easy, john thought. He excused himself to the bathroom where he got his knife and bat out. With his mouth watering he open the door, and moved in on one of the women. She turned around, and in an instant all four were packed on him, the two women stabbing at his throat and the children at his stomach. They heard the voices too, but only when John entered the room.\n\n(Two notes I can think of right now is 'show don't tell!!' and some of the rhythm is a little off too. Any other notes? I probably made some tense mistakes too, as I'm not a native speaker, so I'd like some advice on that too. Thanks for reading!)", "I woke up this morning at 6 am, very scared from a nightmare. I tried to remember my dream, but just one thing came to my mind: I was in a forest. I didn’t think too much about it, and fell asleep again soon. About one hour later I heard my father’s alarm, and it would not stop ringing. So I got up and went into his room to turn it off. He was still asleep. \n\n\nI got ready and headed for the high school in my bike, as always. It is a pretty long way, because I live in the outer part of the town. However, I didn’t find anyone in the streets. When I got there the door was still closed, and there was no one in the building. I texted some of my friends, maybe there was some event today which I didn’t know about, but no one answered. So after waiting there for almost half an hour, and a bit worried already, I went back home.\n\n\nWhen I got there my father was still asleep. I tried to wake him up, but I couldn’t. He was breathing, though. So I decided to search the internet about what was happening, and of course I entered Reddit. There was just one new post, which read: “Anyone else awake?”. Instead of easing me, it scared me even more. That meant that almost everyone in the world was asleep! Furthermore, it had just three comments. So I decided to look at it.\n\n\n“Am I the only one awake? I don’t know what happened, but I came to work at the school (I’m a janitor) about an hour ago and there is no one here yet. I’m worried”. That was the main post. Then I read the first answer, which started to freak me out: \n\n\n“Something is happening, I’m really scared… My sister just died, in a car accident. She was driving me to my workplace at the bank, and a girl was standing right in front of us. She tried to avoid hitting the woman, but we crashed. And my sister died. I could not reach an ambulance, or the police, they would not answer the phone. I didn’t see anyone else in all day. My sister woke up this morning, from a nightmare, but when I asked her what it was about she could only remember that she was driving. I don’t understand what is happening, I’m really worried”.\n\n\nThe next comment was from the janitor. It said: “Man, I’m really sorry about that. I remember that I dreamt something tonight too, but I can’t really tell what it was”.\n\n\nThe last answer was from some other person, and it said: “You all know what is happening. You need to remember”. Then I thought I was really getting crazy. I looked at the user name in this comment, I had seen it before, but I didn’t know where. After searching for that nickname, I found a post that I read last night. It was a little story, very bad written and with no real sense. It hadn’t been read by many people.\n\n\nThe story was about a young girl, who was a serial killer. She had some voices in her mind, which told her to kill several people. First, she caused a car accident to kill a taxist. Then she went to the woods to kill a lumberjack with his own axe. She also shot a teacher in her school. And finally she robbed a bank, just to kill one of the cops that came to stop her. I did not see the point in the story, but I had to read it for some reason. \n\n\nMaybe the anonymous person was talking about this when he or she told us to remember. In this moment my head was spinning around. I thought about the rest of the people: one that worked at a bank, one at a school and one who died in a car... Just like in the story!\n\n\nIn this moment I was really scared. What was my part in the story? Then I thought about my dream. I understood it then, and started to run towards the cabin where my father kept his tools.\n\n\nBut when I arrived she was already there, holding my father’s axe.", "Okay. This is weird. She isn't waking up, but she seems to be alright. Still muttering in her sleep, so it can't be too bad, right?\n\nI tiptoed out of my mom's room and made my way to the kitchen.\n\nGot to drink some tea to kick-start my brain. Open up the doors, go greet the dogs outside. Great. They're asleep too.\n\nI returned to the warmth of my kitchen, and put some water on the stove. \n\nRight. The whole street seems to be asleep. Let's check the news to see what's happening. It's been a while since I've updated myself anyway.\n\nNow for Reddit\n\nI've seen these posts yesterday. Why aren't there any newer posts?\n\nRefresh\n\nRefresh\n\nFinally! A new post.\n\n\"Anyone else awake?\"\n\nDafaq?\n\n\"3 comments\"\n\nTap\n\n\"-Taketimetobreathe\n\nForgive my terrible formatting and spelling mistakes, but my hands are shaking as I type this. Everyone around me is asleep. The dorm is quiet. They aren't waking up. I've been trying to wake them up for nearly an hour and nothing. I don't know how much time I've left. Please, if anyone is out there, PM me!\"\n\n \"-b00b-inspector-25\n\n Hey OP, I'm awake too. Don't worry, I think \n this is some kind of elaborate prank. Let's \n just wait it out.\"\n\n\"-All_hail_our_Lord_Harambe\n\n This is it. 2016 was so full of shit, that we've \n finally given up. Good. Good riddance. I'm off \n to bed. Night y'all\" \n\nRight. The world's asleep, apparently. And only 3 are awake. 4, including me. Well, at least I've the day off. Best to catch up on some much needed sleep.\n\nI turned off the stove, left everything as it was, and crawled back into bed. Maybe the next time I wake up it would be to my mom yelling at me to get off the bed and do some chores.", "My eyes open. My feet hit the floor.\n\nI drag my barely functioning limbs to alertness. Grasping the door handle, my shuffling legs come to a stop. \n\nI wander. My sister's room. My parent's room. \n\nThe same silence. \n\nMy fingers shake. \n\nMy phone is in my hands. Reddit, the homepage. \n\nI see the words- the only activity online: \"Is anyone else awake?!?\"\n\nMy eyes flick downward. \"Three new comments\".\n\nOne circular thought pings through the mental fuzz:\n\n...it worked. \n", "I wake up like any other morning, before the crack of dawn. I didn't really realize anything else that was strange. I was usually the first one up (aside for the few times my housemates pull all-nighters). \"Everyone must of gotten sleep then?\" I thought to myself. I put on my tie and headed for work. I stopped and took a deep breath of that morning air. I then immediately gag from inhaling smoke. There was a big white truck with two workers putting long lumps in bags into the vehicle. I wasn't weirded out. Nothing can be as weird as what happened yesterday. The pair of workers approached me.\n\n\n\"Argh, this fcker is still awake\" one worker said to the other.\n\n\n\"Excuse me? Fcker? Still awake? What is this\" I asked.\n\n\n\"Please stay still.\" the worker said as he pulled out a device.\n\n\n\"Wait what?\" I said as I backed up.\n\n\n\"Come on! Stop being a little bitch!\" I quickly ran into my house and locked the door.\n\n\n\"Don't worry about it, they'll get him later\" I heard them say. To make sense of any of this, I went online. I found only one thing. A post on Reddit. The post read, \"Anyone else awake?\" Three comments: \"ikr, everyone near me is asleep like wtf?\" \"I'm awake\" \"Oh shit! Everyone else is really asleep!\" I added a comment, \"Did anyone else see the people outside?\". I refreshed the page. Wow, a response. \"Holy shit! They're knocking on my door!\" After I finished the sentence, there was an extreme banging on my door. Quickly putting two and two together, I figured out that the people who would \"get me later\" were at my door. I quickly hid under my bed (which seemed like the best hiding spot). The door was broken down and about five bodies walked in. The five bodies were walking through the house. One by one, the rooms leading up to mine were being searched in. Heavy footsteps came into the room I was in. Two black stumps stopped right in front of me. The body crouched down to where I got a good look at the sleek black helmet. \n\n\n\"Found him!\" it said.", "It's Saturday morning, and I woke up way too early, about 5-ish. I can't get back to sleep, so I decide to get up and do the normal things that I do. When I get downstairs, everyone is still asleep, which is normal, but some people were asleep in weird places. My mother, who was visiting, was asleep on the kitchen table. I tried to wake her up, but she didn't budge. I didn't think about it too much, though, because she's a deep sleeper, and it was 5 in the morning. Next, I decided to turn on the news. Nothing. Just \"TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES\" in big letters on most stations. Some had their cameras turned on, but there was no one there. I started to get freaked out by this point. Checked my Twitter and Facebook, and the last post had been at 1:27 AM.\nI was scared at this point, as I wasn't sure what the hell'd just happened. At this point I decide to go to my last resort and consult the internet on Reddit. Once again, the last post had been at 1:27 AM.\n\nAll except one posted at 5.\n\nI decide to open the post, as that was the only form of communication I had with anyone. \nHere's how the post read:\n\n\"I just woke up and no one is up. No news, no people, absolutely no one. This is freaking me out.\nIs this happening to anyone else? Not sure if this is just local.\"\n\nsubmitted 1 hour ago\n\n3 Comments\n\nThis is terrifying. At least there were other people that it had happened to as well. I begin to read the first comment.\n\n\"Thank god, I thought I was the only one. Do you think this may be a dream? This is really freaking me out\"\n\nThe next comment explained the situation about as well as everyone else had. The last comment was just a bot.\nIt was at this point that I decided to write a comment, asking people questions that might help link to the reason that only 4 people were up. The first question I asked was \"Do you remember what happened last night? I can't think of anything. All I can remember is some sort of hectic celebration that I got totally wasted at.\"\nThe reply came a few minutes later. It was from the writer of the post. They said\n\"I remember a hectic party as well. I don't remember what it was for, but what I do remember is that i got wasted, and I have a wicked headache now. What about the other people in here?\"\nThe second person came soon after, saying that he had the same exact experience as the rest of us.\nBy now, all of us are freaking out, having no idea what to do, since to us the world had ended.\n\nThen the last guy came along, and told us to look at the date.\n\nIt was January 1st.\n\nIt was New years day, and we all got wasted and stayed up late last night.\n\nNo wonder no one was up.\n\n(First time writer here, I just wrote this for fun. Not sure how you guys feel about it, but I had fun writing it. Sorry if the end isn't fulfilling.)\nEDIT: some minor fixes to the text", " \"Everyone can't really be asleep, can they?\"\nThat and a million others questions were rushing through my head as I logged into my computer to see if there was anybody else out there who was awake. \n \n My day started out like any other, convincing myself for an hour that getting out of bed was worth it, planning to make a nice healthy breakfast only to give up after an intense staring contest with some eggs only to end up pouring a bowl of cereal instead, take a shit, shower and head on to my luxurious job as a sandwich artist (my degree in graphic design really came through!) Everything was totally normal despite a distinct lack of any traffic at all but I wasn't complaining, then things got a little weirder when no one showed up to my work, neither sandwich eater or artist. So I left after about 30 minutes of standing around like an idiot and figured I may as well not question my impromptu day off. \n So I get back home feeling a little concerned at this point considering there was once again literally no people in the streets. I decided to check Facebook to see if there was anything going on like an event or holiday or something that I was missing that would explain it, but there wasn't a single new post, not even my aunt sharing shockingly outdated memes. Then I figured screw it, let's see what's happening on Reddit. There was only one new post.\n\n \"Anyone else awake?\"\n\n My heart started pounding as I clicked on it faster than I've ever done anything, and I started reading. \n \n \"I'm really not sure what's going on, I'm freaking the fuck out my parents my siblings and everyone I know is just asleep and no matter how hard I try I can't wake them up, I tried calling the police and didn't get an answer. Am I alone? I don't really give a shit about internet privacy at this point, my name is Ava, I'm nineteen, and I live in Redmond Washington. Please let there be anybody else out there.\" \n \n I sat there in utter shock. Could the only two conscious people in the world be a nineteen year old girl and a 23 year old guy whose greatest accomplishment was putting creamy sriracha sauce and ranch together in one sandwich? I scrolled down to comment and felt immediate relief at seeing three other replies. The first two were from a guy named Jayden and a girl named Samantha, both of them with similar stories and scared out of their minds. \n \n And then there was the third comment. \n\n \"Congratulations Ava Riley, Jayden Anderson, and Samantha Cross! You have been given the opportunity as the only three conscious civilians on Earth to participate in an experiment that will change the very course of human life! In approximately 26 hours your lives will become more interesting than you can possibly imagine! Please standby.\" \n \n Once again, utter shock. He said three. As in I'm totally not supposed to be seeing this shit? I could just pretend like none of this is happening and just hideout until whatever the hell this is ends. I'm not a special person, I haven't done anything great. But dammit I convinced myself to get up this morning. So I started typing. \n\n \"My name is Alex Reyes, and uh...I'm here too.\" \n\n\n(Chapter 2 is finished and a few comments down)\n\n(There's now a subreddit for this! r/AwakeStories)" ]	7
	[WP] You finally agree to invite your daughter's boyfriend to your house for dinner. Soon you begin to suspect he's a vampire.	[ "Mother of God, is this kid polite. \nHe won't come in without an invite. \nHis hair's a mess as there was rain. \nWon't look at a mirror, so not too vain. \n\n\nI ask if he believes in God. \nA silence followed by a nod. \nI show him my crucifix collection. \nHe turns in the opposite direction. \n\n\nIt's dinner time, we're saying grace. \nI take a peek, look at his face. \nHe sits in silent resignation. \nI'm puzzled by his indignation. \n\n\nI see he's barely touched his plate. \n\"Son, what's wrong, you barely ate?\" \nHe says he's sorry, he already fed. \n\"Well at least take some garlic bread.\" \n\n\nHe looks like he's going to be sick \nand shakes his head: \"I'm allergic.\" \nI notice the mirror on the wall \nand except for him, a reflection of us all. \n\n\nI suddenly realize: granddad was right. \nAgainst vampires he actually did fight. \nI called them his mind's constructions. \nHe forgave me and left instructions. \n\n\nFrom granddad's crate I swiftly take \nholy water and a wooden stake. \nI throw the water on the boy's face. \nHe screams, my heart begins to race. \n\n\nHis face is consequently burning. \nMy ears are ringing from the screaming. \nI apologize to my crying daughter: \n\"I'm sorry, hun, your friend's a monster.\" \n\n\nWith the stake I take a swing. \nHe deflects my strike with his ring. \nStrike two and he's out. \nHe turns to dust after a shout. \n\n\nI give my daughter an explanation. \nSaving her soul a good consolation. \nForgiven, my mind's as light as a feather. \nSoon we're fighting vampires together. " ]	1
	[WP] Everyone remembers of Solders who fought and died in war, Few think about the animals who fought by their side. Write a eulogy for the animals who didn't have a choice in war.	[ "Today we commit Oliver (German Shepard, age 3) to the great beyond. He was shot and killed by an enemy sniper while on patrol in Helmand Province, Afghanistan. A war dog born and bred, he fought beside our soldiers until his death on the fourth of April, thousands of miles from home. He could not hold a rifle or throw a grenade, so instead he saved the lives of soldiers and civilians alike, hunting for weapons and IEDs. A favorite among the soldiers, his loss will be felt deeply by those he left behind. Today, we mourn not just Oliver but all noble beasts who have fallen in battle. Countless creatures have fought and died alongside us but one has stood with us from the beginning, through peace and war. The dog is truly man's best friend. But sadly their sacrifice, like many other animals is overlooked and forgotten by most. They fought wars that were not their own and died for causes that they could not know. So let us take a moment to remember: the heroes who had no choice. \n\nOver 9 million animals gave their lives in service during the First World War\n\nDuring the Vietnam War it is estimated that over 10,000 human lives were saved by K-9 units, of which 232 dogs were estimated to have been killed in action along with their human handlers.\n\nCurrently several hundred MWDs (Working Military Dogs) are actively engaged in combat in areas like Iraq and Afghanistan and about 2,000 are stationed all around the world. \n\n[Took inspiration from](http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-27186205)" ]	1
	[WP] Your dog invites you to poker night at the dog park	[ "Its a chilly night, colder than normal. I've walked around this road so many times before, except it feels different this time around. The air is still and there isn't a car in sight. Not surprising considering the time of night. \n\nHe told me to meet him there this evening. \"Odd.\" I thought to myself. I've known for years I could communicate with Bruno, but he's never asked for me to go anywhere to \"meet\" him. \"Oh, well. We've been together for nearly 10 years since I rescued him from that drain pipe near the park. No reason not to trust him now.\" \n\nI continue my walk towards the park, thinking to myself the nature of the strange request. Bruno and I would always go to the park together to play. ALWAYS. Hardly a week went by where we didn't come here. It was home. For both of us. He'd tell me when he wanted to play and we'd walk over together and have the time of our lives together. \n\nApproaching the park gate, I see that its locked. Not surprising considering its nearly midnight. Not really the type of time you bring you dog to the park. I hear a whisper in a low, gruff voice, \"keep walking along the fence.\" I can't tell where its coming from but its close. Its not Bruno's voice but it doesn't sound like a human voice either. Something tells me to turn around and go home. \"No way\" I think to myself. This is my dog and I trust him. He wants me to play poker, and damnit, I'm playing poker. \n\nI walk along the fence, albeit a bit more cautiously this time. After a minute, I see another gate. Not one I've used before but it leads into another park of the dog park for the bigger dogs. This one is unlocked and slightly ajar. A slight sense of apprehension overcomes me and I grab the handle. I pause, thinking the trust between a human and dog is as strong as you can find. \"Oh screw it. I trust my dog.\"\n\nA couple steps in, it looks just like the small dog park next door. Full of picnic tables, half chewed toys and empty water bowls. I relax slightly being in a familiar looking place and step toward one of the picnic tables to take a seat.\n\n\"Hi Kevin.\"\n\nI turn around, stunned and frozen in place. It's Bruno. He's walking on his hind legs, holding his choke collar. He's not alone. " ]	1
	[WP] You are a serial killer without real motif. But one day, the police hypothesizes a very creative motif and you just go with it...	[ "Huh.\n\nThey were calling me the Snowflake Doily Killer.\n\nI.. hadn't noticed this. Very strange. I mean, to me, it's easy... I made a computer program that took all the known addresses in the County Assessment database, used a random number generator, based on the exact time of day that the Today Show's third segment started. Simple, easy, and yet random as heck, right? No pattern whatsoever.\n\nBut... somehow... there was a doily placed on the victim. A bloody doily. The snowflake kind for using under a glass or cup.\n\nI have no idea how they got there. But there they were. \n\nOooh. Perhaps I have a stalker. I hope she's at least pretty when we meet. Maybe we'll hit it off!... if I don't pull her name up next in the program...\n\nAnyway. Now it's sorta a thing, so I guess, just to be sure that they know it's me, I'll have to make these things. Can't have them store bought, they'll trace it. I think I can remash the paper so that can't be traced...\n\nUgh. Doilies. Whatever." ]	1
	[WP] When I came home from the vacation I saw all the chairs in the living room were standing in circle like the group meetings. By the way, i live alone.	[ "It's been too long. Nearly 6 years...and I can't imagine changing any time soon. I'm used to it now. People will always disappoint...I've been hurt by everyone who has ever been close to me...it's just easier this way, no more pain.\n\nEvery day is the same; Monday-Friday I go to work and come home, Saturday I stay home, and Sunday I get groceries and come home. With the internet I can do almost all my shopping without human interaction. I only go out to get groceries because I fear I might completely lose my humanity otherwise. \n\nLast week I put in a request for vacation time, for the first time ever. I asked for 7 days. My boss was happy to grant me the time off. He said it was the least he could do, because I had never missed a day of work in the 10 years at the company. He had to ask for my name twice during our conversation.\n\nI went to Seattle, for 3 days, and stayed in the hotel the entire time. If I had to guess why I went on the trip, I would say it was a last-ditch effort to break free of my antisocial habits. It didn't work.\n\nWhen I arrived home all the chairs in my apartment were moved into the living room, arranged in a circle. There was a note on one of the chairs. It read:\"This would have been an intervention, but nobody cared enough to show up, you fucking ass hat\". I suspect this is a prank perpetrated by the neighbors across the hall. This small gesture solidified my views.\n\nI have 3 days left to build the bomb. I've been stockpiling the materials for the last 14 months. I have gone over the projections at least a hundred times. It will infect everyone in the building, and will quickly spread throughout the city, the country, and eventually the world, killing everyone within the span of 2 years, except those inoculated with the vaccine. I will finally be alone forever." ]	1
	[WP] The world has 90% female inhabitants. You are a mildly attractive man, trying to survive.	[ "I remember when I was growing up, it was the year 2016 and it was just about when my first memories were beginning to form. It sure was an interesting time to be alive equality was spreading rapidly across the planet and even though people were worried that certain political events were going to turn the world back 100 years I knew we were headed for a society where everyone was treated fairly and behaved morally. \n\nBoy was I wrong about that one. People were right to be worried about those events because they were the direct cause of world war 3. I was too young to participate in the war, even though most of my male counterparts in school still joined up because they knew what it meant if we were to lose the war. Now the war is over and people are trying to deal with the outcome of 90% of the male population being annihilated from the face of the planet. \n\nNow before the war people probably would of considered me \"mildly attractive\", not someone that all the girls talked about around the high school lunch table but I could at least get a date to the winter snowball. Now after the war I have move girls chasing after me than Leonardo Dicaprio ever did. These are the same girls I remember calling themselves feminist and saying all people are equal no matter what there sex is. You would be hard pressed to call these woman feminist any longer. It is incredible the actions people will take in order to find a mate. The stuff I have seen since the war has been unspeakable, I now have to live under constant security supervision because that is how dangerous it is to be a man in this current time. \n\nIt is amazing what people turn into when they are put into such desperate situations, I can only hope that one day things return to normal." ]	1
	[WP] Aliens have finally arrived but instead of bringing war or enlightenment, they are all refugees.	[ "Spring, 1985, Washington DC.\n\n\nI stood in front of the President with a thick Manilla Folder, waiting for Reagan to get off the phone. I was sweaty and trying really hard not to look nervous. All around him were people of some kind of importance or another as they waited for the phone call to end.\n\n\nFinally, The President said goodbye, and put the phone on the receiver. \"I just got off the phone with LI Xiannian, before him I was on the phone with Mikhail Gorbachev. I just had to both confirm that it wasn't from them and reassure them that it wasn't from us. Now, what can you tell me?\"\n\n\n\"well\" I said as I opened the folder and pulled out several pictures \"We can see here that there are several crafts of varying size.\"\n\n\n\"Do you think they are planning a military action?\"\n\n\n\"Unlikely, If you look at this picture\" I said as I produced another picture. \"this one appears to be trailing some kind of gas and almost all of them look like they've got some kind of damage done to them. Also they don't seem to be in any kind of formation. They are all just randomly spaced.\"\n\n\n\"Alright so why are they coming?\"\n\n\n\"Well, there could be a few possibilities. This could be some kind of garbage dump. They just took a bunch of space junk and sent it off so now it's our problem. But this seems unlikely based on how fast they are moving.\"\n\n\n\"Why would their speed matter?\"\n\n\n\"Well unless the civilization that sent these craft is advanced to such an insane level that such tech is so easily produced as to be used to get rid of trash it seems unlikely.\"\n\n\n\"Okay what's another possibility?\"\n\n\n\"Well, they might have ran into some kind of danger and are hoping to stop and make some repairs, or they could be refugees. Either way we've sent a few transmissions. You know, saying hi. giving some material that might help them communicate with us. That sort of thing.\"\n\n\n\"Refugees huh? Well, even still we need to Mobilize. They could potentially be dangerous.\"\n\n\nPeople started moving around and I stepped out. I had given them the info and speculation I had. I wonder what they would do with it?\n\n\n\n(I can't finish right now but Ill do the rest at some point tomorrow if anyone is interested.)\n", "\"What do you mean ref-u-gees?\" asked General Becket in a way that implied he was unfamiliar with the concept.\n\n\"If you'll let me finish General, I can elaborate.\" I retorted; overtired, overworked, and ready to crack at a moment's notice.\n\n\"Go ahead\" signalled the Prime Minister, apparently the only person in the room not seconds from experiencing a mental breakdown.\n\n\"The specimens that we have recovered from the Lancashire crash site all appear to fit into two groups; the very young, and the very old,\" I announced, pausing as my assistant fiddled with the nearby projector, successfully triggering it to cover the far wall of the conference room with two separate x-rays.\n\n\"Please direct your attention to the images shown. On the left is an extra-terrestrial displaying a remarkably low bone density, similar to that of a human infant. On the right, is a being exhibiting a lack of cartilage between it's joints, something that we would diagnose as arthritis here on Earth.\"\n\n\"Yes yes, get to the point\" ordered the General, once again, pushing me rather close to the edge.\n\n\"The point is, these aliens, monsters, whatever you want to call them; they're vulnerable, potentially at risk of extinction , and clearly desperate enough to trek half way across the universe to a planet they thought might grant them a smidge of sanctuary from whatever God-forsaken-hell-scape they've been driven from!\"\n\n\"What a load of bollocks,\" said Becket, \"you're telling me, that we've made first contact, not with an advanced space faring race, but with alien fleet compromising solely of babies and the elderly?\"\n\n\"Our visitors fit into both of those categories you enormous bellend, something which you appear to be having trouble understanding.\" I roared, or more realistically screeched, unable to keep my frustration in check.\n\n\"What did you call me boy? Where the hell do you get these so-called experts Jo-\"\n\n\"Enough, both of you.\" instructed the PM, cold an calculating. \"If what you say is true Professor, how do you suggest we handle the situation?\"\n\n\"Well respectfully Sir, I really hoped you and your colleagues would have some sort of bloody idea.\" ", "Groggily, I sit up from my bed. I hear the \"imminent arrival\" sirens wailing on. I wipe my eyes, weary from another night of sleep cut short by the arrival of yet another alien spacecraft. The first few alien ships didn't make it onto the planet's surface; they burned up in the atmosphere. I grab my comms unit and turn on the HUD.\n\n\"Another wave of alien spacecraft are approaching our planet. There are 14 crafts in total. The Planetary Defense Force has been mobilized in the event that any of these crafts make it into our airspace and threaten a landing.\" \n\n\"I might as well get up and head to work\" I think as I roll up onto the edge of my bed. My work as an interspecies communications analyst has been drawn upon more frequently as of late with these recent events. I seem to be always inundated with messages when I get to work, and getting a head start on those certainly couldn't be a bad thing. \n\nAfter grabbing my things, throwing on some clothes, and scarfing down a quick breakfast bar, I trotted toward the door heading to the transport hub. No sooner had I closed my door behind me, when another round of the \"arrival\" sirens went off. I felt my comms unit buzzing from inside my bag. \n\n\"Hello? Yes, this is he. I understand. Yes, I will be there right away.\"\n\nThe call was brief, but the implications were huge. This alien species had managed to land six of its spacecrafts and its inhabitants were being detained by the Defense Force. The alien creature appeared to be communicating but in an unknown language. Being that I was the Chief Analyst for Interspecies Communications, I had been tapped to attempt communications with these creatures. \"Route me to Planetary Defense Force Gate 17\" I told the transport hub operator. It was finally time to realize the potential of all my research.\n\nI arrived at Gate 17 and was promptly escorted to a secured briefing room. The Prime Minister, Secretary of Defense, and several of my colleagues were already present. \"Now that Alec has arrived we can begin,\" said Prime Minister Jaenke. \"As you all have heard by now, the alien species which has bombarded us for days has landed a group of ships. We have detained the creatures, who are by all accounts not dissimilar to our own species. They seem to be an advanced bipedal species with access to high order technology. Our goal in the detention of these aliens is to learn about them, understand them, and understand why and how they arrived here. We must first communicate with them. This is why most of you have been called here today. We want you to study these aliens, understand and learn their language.\"\n \nAt this point I was vibrating with excitement. \n\nThe Prime Minister continued, \"Alec is the leading researcher of interspecies communication. He has devoted his life's work to the study of communications between species on this planet. Now we are asking him, and you, his fellow scientists, to appply this knowledge to a new species. I'd like for Secreatary Forgrave to brief you on what we know. Mrs. Forgrave...\"\n\nSecretary Forgrave rose to her feet. \"The six ships which landed have markings similar to ones we found on the probes intercepted many years ago. The golden disks on those probes which has been the study of many including you Alec, contains representations of these characters.\" The Secretary turned to a display and punched a button on a remote. \"These are the markings present on each ship.\" I could make out the charred markings. These characters spelled out \"N.A.S.A.\" Although I could not yet confirm it, I thought this must have been the alien civilization's equivalent to our Defense Force. The Secretary went on, \"We need to communicate with these aliens quickly. They were reckless with their arrival, not heeding any warning blasts, nor making any attempts to slow their crafts' entry to a safe descent. We need to know why.\"", "I could see the sky above me fill up with millions of mismatched spaceships each carrying what I could recognize as families composed of these foreign creatures. They were barely humanoid with long slender limbs. They were taller than the average human but not by much and they were covered in a light layer of slimy liquid from head to toe. \n\nThere was media coverage all over the situation. It was obvious once the aliens landed that they were not here to harm up. No one could understand what they said, rather they gestured roughly. The worlds top linguists were invited to the landing sight and after hours of galactic charades, it was deduced that the aliens were mere refugees from a planet ruined by climate change. They gesture aggressively towards the sky almost to say they were worried about how we treat our own atmosphere.\n\nThe aliens were transported to the White House to get the presidents opinion. He'd dealt with issues like this before and could do it again. I was watching a live report from inside the White House. There was a deafening silence throughout the house after the hushed whispers of experts and governments officials trying to explain the situation to our president died down. \n\nNobody knew what to say.\n\nThen, the doors to the oval office swing open, and with it, a rumbling shout\n\"BUILD THAT WALL\"", "I was there that day, when this never-ending war began. I still don't know why, but I'll tell you how it all started.\n\nThe spindly gray humanoids that stepped off the craft onto the grass were easily identifiable as aliens. Too identifiable, in fact: They looked exactly like the \"little gray men\" from so many tales of UFO abductions, which made it all the more disconcerting that their all-too-recognizable saucer-shaped craft was likewise ripped straight out of those same stories. Chills ran up my spine as I watched the proceedings unfolding before me.\n\nThe aliens stopped a respectful distance from our welcoming party; they had of course contacted us before they landed to announce their arrival. Aside from a group chosen by the President himself to be Earth's ambassadors to these aliens, the field was filled with press and curious onlookers, all of us all too aware that we were watching history unfold before us. If only we had known!\n\nOne of them stepped forward and raised a hand in greeting. \"We bring greetings to the kind people of Earth,\" the alien said in clipped, slightly affected, but otherwise perfect English. I was surprised, but realized that I really shouldn't have been -- they must have spent decades studying us, why wouldn't they be able to speak our language? \"We come to this world now not as the explorers and scientists of before, but as a desperate people seeking safe refuge from a terrible blight that has ravaged our home world and left it uninhabitable.\"\n\nThe leader of the human delegation stepped forward then, and raised his hand in greeting as well. When he opened his mouth to speak, however, all Hell broke loose.\n\nThere was a blinding flash of light, and deafening sound like thunder. I had to avert my eyes and cover my ears, instinctively dropping to one knee. As I blinked away the after images and gingerly tested my ears again, I looked back toward the delegations.\n\nThe humans and the aliens still faced one another, no one moving, everyone seemingly in shock, but one delegation was now one individual short: The lead alien, the one that had spoke such eloquent English not a moment earlier, was gone; in his (its?) place was a black scorch mark, looking like it had been smeared from where he had been standing back toward the rest of his delegation.\n\nThe human delegation was quickly ushered back by Secret Service agents, their guns drawn as they looked around frantically for the source of the attack. Some agents had their weapons trained on the aliens, seemingly thinking they were responsible for one of their own being killed. The aliens were backing away slowly, chattering in what I presume must have been their native language, looking around nervously.\n\nSuddenly a voice boomed out across the field, seeming to come from everywhere at once. I again brought my hands to my already-abused ears, but still had no trouble hearing the words. Words that I still remember today, as if I were still standing there on that field: \"We are the Krithdeen, and this world belongs to us! Your kind, which banished us to this rock so long ago, you are not welcome here!\"\n\nTo this day, I have never laid eyes upon one of the Krithdeen. I'm told they live in massive underground cities, and have since the dinosaurs went extinct, when the ice drove them down there. Some say that they have been subtly manipulating humankind for centuries, if not longer; I don't know if that's true or not.\n\nWhat I do know is that after that pronouncement almost 7 years ago, I saw three dart-like objects fly in from the hills at incredible speed, coming almost instantly to a halt directly above the field. The gray aliens were now seemingly in a panic -- though to be fair, the humans were as well -- and were fleeing toward their ship. I stood, transfixed, and watched as the three ships destroyed the gray aliens' ship, and then disintegrated the aliens themselves.\n\nThen they were gone, apparently uninterested in us humans, despite the several Secret Service agents that had fired on them.\n\nI don't know why the gray aliens don't simply go to another world. Maybe they expended all their resources to get here, or maybe there isn't another one. All I know is that both they and the Krithdeen have decided that our world is their home, and that the other can't have it. So far as I know, neither side is particularly interested in sitting down with us humans and explaining things to us. We're just caught in the middle of this war they're raging on our planet.\n\nMy advice to you is to just stay clear of aliens. They don't seem interested in hurting us, but neither do they seem to care if we get caught in the crossfire, either. So keep your head down, keep your eyes open, and maybe we'll see the end of this war.", "We loved the Aeronautic party, they promised peace and prosperity --but most of all, alien rights. When we pitched up on Earth some seventy years ago the offer was simple --cohabitate or move on. They welcomed us with open arms and at first, they seemed to really love our people. I've got pictures of my great grandparents learning English, being taught the rules of society, and how to communicate via written mediums. \n\nWe never thought twice. \n\nCompared to life on Planet Sodara, Earth was sensational. The old Sodara had housed explosive earth mounds, sinkholes that could appear overnight, and inter-galactic beings who only wanted to destroy and pillage our growth. It was great luck that the founding beings captured an enemy mother ship and were able to commandeer it to Earth. \n\nAnd now, with three of our kind on the Aeronautic party, we had been integrated and welcomed into society, at least, that's what we thought. \n\nMardolga an elder alien paced the front of the room. His grey skin worn from years of age, his big eyes covered with human spectacles, and his long muscled body now concealed with clothes. \"They promise you care, support, and the right to have your voices heard.\" \n\nThe room of alien's and human supports nodded in agreement. We had hired out the church hall for this particular 'community' meeting. However, I had a feeling that if the media got a hold of this they'd have a field day. \n\n\"Let me ask you then,\" Mardolga said, \"why is it that while they invest billions in our society, nothing changes?\" \n\nThere were murmurs throughout the room. Personally, I didn't believe that nothing had changed. Our minds had shifted from where they were seventy years ago. \n\n\"Six billion in the seventh district alone. Our town. The place of our people. One man or alien raise his hand and tell me what building or place of gathering they are referring too?\" \n\nNo one budged. Despite not being able to point out a piece of infastructure, I was sure the money had been used for something else. Maybe public relations or to fund schools. Six billion was a lot, though. \n\n\"Then they give us labels,\" Mardolga went on, \"minority, space stayer. There isn't a kinder way to tell a man that he is weak and different.\"\n\nHe was right on that note. I never liked it when the news officials used the term minority, it made me feel like we had less numbers then them and were therefore in danger of something. Space stayer was even worse, were they implying we were going to one day go back? Our planet was dead, everyone knew that. \n\n'Then they say, that even if you are an alien you can call yourself human.\" \n\n\"No discrimination!\" someone shouted from the crowd. \n\nMardolga smiled. \"But you do not see them encouraging humans to call themselves alien. It's clear that one way is considered better than the other.\" \n\nThe room remained silent. And I let the cold wash over while my mind battled uneasiness. \n\n\"The problems of the world do not lie with government or the different people. Refugees now citizens must play their part to help. So I look at the you here and say do not leave it to the system. You must look deep, because the problems of our community lie within your mind.\" \n\nIt was with sullen hearts and tired minds that we left the room that day. The old members, although wise, always wanted to make things difficult. It was easier to just live, not to worry. But there was a truth in his words, maybe there were bigger things at play. I was just happy to be an alien on Earth, for now I would remain thankful that things were that way. \n\n\n\n", "They were the size of five year olds, uniformly gray, with two expressive hands and three rigid legs. The running joke was whether the third leg is used for procreation. \n\n\"We...come in...\" the translator croaked. \n\n\"Peace?\" I offered. \n\n\"...times of utter distress. Yelu is after us and Yelu kills and Yelu is unsuitable.\" The boss of the five-year-olds gestured elaborately and with lots of zest as the translator deciphered his language. \"Unstoppable,\" he corrected with a gesture that involved both hands, one punching into and through a circular gap made by the other. \n\nIt's a pretty apt gesture, I have to admit. But like every other engineer in the room, I was strugging to give our grey space faring friend the attention he deserved rather than succumb to the urge to take apart the state-of-the-art translator which somehow managed to sound like a radio in the eighties. \n\n\"Who is Yelu?\" I asked the translator, which sprouted two hand-like extensions and gestured in crisp, too-quick movements. Our grey friend began to reply with gestures that told of horror and disgust. \n\n\"Yelu was once one of us. But Yelu ate the Navzak Crystal in Year 37,458 and became Yelu. Yelu is now big, humongous even against you monkeys. Yelu is always hungry and Yelu eats only two things: crystals and minds. Yelu ate all of us and we are the only known survivors. Yelu is unsuitable.\"\n\n\"Where is Yelu?\"\n\nThe machine did its work, then began to croak. \"Yelu is 5 hours away. That is why we will stay for 20 more minutes before we set off.\"\n\n\"What?\" The translator handles the conversion of units exceedingly well, despite how it sounded. The time period cited is based on Earth's clocks.\n\n\"Too many of us have already fallen. Yelu should take 2 years to finish all you monkeys. And then maybe he would be full. Even if he is not, we would have bought time to locate the next planet of minds while he embarks on this magnificent feast.\"\n\n\"What the...\" the machine gestured immediately, hanging in the last position while waiting for me to complete the sentence. I didn't. \n\n\"Please help us by dying. Yelu is unsuitable.\"\n\n---\n\nI am world-building, prompt by prompt. Selected work goes [here](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com).\n" ]	7
	[WP] Write an action packed story, ripe with drama and tension, only to have it finish in the most anti-climactic way possible	[ "\"We have to hurry!\" I shouted. Above us, the sky was painted red as a shadow began to cover the sun.\n\n\"The total eclipse will happen in less than three minutes! If we can't stop him...\"\n\n\"I know,\" said Lain, the rogue. \"You don't need to give me the inspiring speech, Abram. I'm with you all the way.\"\n\nThe infernal ziggurat loomed above us, its tiers swarming with zombies and skeletons. The Vampire King was pulling out all the stops to stop us.\n\n\"All we need to do is get to the top of those steps. We can do this!\" I pulled my greatsword from my back and held it with both hands.\n\nSabriel held up her staff, tipped with the symbol of Pelor, and it started to glow with white light. \"Evil spirits, begone!\"\n\nThe zombies closest to us reeled back, screaming in pain. Taking the opening, I charged in, bisecting two of them with my first swing. I waded into the horde, clearing my way up the ziggurat, one step at a time.\n\nArrows rained down on me as I reached the first tier of the ziggurat. I leapt back, nearly falling down the steps in order to evade. I looked up and saw two pale, fanged figures, each one armed with a black longbow, firing with inhuman speed.\n\n\"Vampires!\"\n\n\"On it.\" Lain raised his crossbow, loaded with a wooden bolt. He fired, and I was rewarded to see one of the snipers crumble into dust.\n\nBefore the first vampire had finished crumbling away, the rogue had reloaded his crossbow. Just then, a skeleton burst out of the horde and made for Lain.\n\n\"Look out!\"\n\nI split the skeleton in half, but I was too slow. It grabbed Lain's arm, spoiling the shot. The bolt went high, over the archer's head.\n\n\"We're not going to make it!\" Sabriel shouted. The moon was almost covering the sun completely. We couldn't have had more than a minute left.\n\nLain finished off the sniper with his third shot. \"Don't give up now!\"\n\nScreaming a battle cry, I charged up the steps, trying to push the zombies aside as much as kill them. If I could reach the vampire king at all, maybe I could disrupt the ritual.\n\nSabriel slammed her staff on the ground, clearing the ghouls from my path with a shockwave of holy magic.\n\nThe world went dark as the moment of total eclipse arrived.\n\n\"No! We're too late!\" I reached the top of the steps, one hand outstretched towards the...\n\nWait, where was the Vampire King?\n\nAt the top of the ziggurat was an altar. At the base of the altar, we saw a small pile of dust, with a wooden crossbow bolt sticking out of it.\n\nI picked it up and tossed it to Lain.\n\n\"Well, that was a lucky shot.\" " ]	1
	[WP] When the greatest generals die they are placed in an eternal war against eachother, you are one such general	[ "\"Pleaaaaseeee, let me go to a different afterlife!\" I say, \"I've never done anything to deserve this! I don't belong here! I'm no warrior!\"\n\n\"Of course thou art,\" King Arthur says, \"Thou hast bested numerous foes from far and wide, of a greater breadth than even I could have achieved. Thou art undoubtedly suited for the task.\"\n\nOff to the side, some elderly Chinese warrior nods his approval.\n\nWe're on a precipice overlooking a great canyon. Below, horses and riders are charging into lines of machine guns not a half-mile away. The sight is grisly, but the number of riders almost certainly outnumber the amount of bullets those machine guns have, and the army in green are soon routed by the crimson horsemen. I gulp.\n\n\"These art but the daily sights thou must acclimate thineself to, young one,\" King Arthur says, \"But I am quite sure thou hast seen far worse in thine travels prior to this point.\"\n\n\"I'm sure you're quite mistaken,\" I say.\n\n\"Hah! Such modesty,\" King Arthur continues, \"Go on, sit at your device. Let us warriors see thine dastardly schemes!\"\n\nSo saying, a dozen or so men and women clad in every type of armor from metal to camouflage huddle about me. \n\n\"...Alright, fine,\" I say.\n\nI've given up. I open up my laptop, miraculously connecting to the internet here.\n\n\"Time to 4pool.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Now, darkness is your only hope.	[ "The beings fed on light. No, more then that. It feasted on it, like a Thanksgiving turkey.\n\nDarkness was my only hope. It was humanity's hope.\n\nFor the beings never ventured in the darkness.\n\n***\n\nI smelled the air, picking up many senses. A faraway smell of gasoline trickling out of a old gas station pump. A burning fire. Human waste, both fresh and decomposing. Piss. Corpses. \n\nCorpses. That made meat. Sure it was cannibalism, but we needed meat. Juicy, fresh meat. I licked my lips in anticipation of my meal, as I sulked towards the rather small office. The air blew hard today, and the clouds covered the sun. The streetlights still worked, and the beings surrounded them like moths to a flame. My eyes darted, looking for a sign of their hideous, skinny torsos, and their grey skin.\n\nThe beings were here to stay, no matter how many times we shoved them away. Not many of us were left after the last struggle. The beings feast on organs. Not skin, they throw away those. The organs is what they want. I still have nightmares from seeing the organ farms, with corpses cut open and organs hung out to dry like laundry. They loved the heart the most, which they ate like apples. No, get that out of your head. You don't need that anymore. You're on your own now.\n\nI used to bunk with survivors, going from place to place. Merchant, bodyguard - nothing was impossible for me to comprehend. No towns existed, due to the need to use lighting, so trading was done by just almost everyone near their own small homes. The land was always vacant during the day, unless you wanted to make a early hunt or receive a death wish. Maybe both. I never thought about many people.\n\nI heard one, off to the corner in a streetlamp. Skinny, grey, and breathing. Hard. It's eyes stared at me from it's corner, where it's arms hung down like tree branches. It's legs were almost useless to them. They aren't human, and they aren't zombies either. They're something else. And that's much worse then the last two answers. It made a small, low guttural moan. It saw me.\n\nOh god, it saw me.\n\nIt screeched. It's hairless body began to twitch, and screeched some more to bring in more of it's brothers to feed. I heard it's bones snap. It's hands cracked backwards, and it started to go down on the floor. In only a minute, the transformation was finished. It's body was backwards, cracked and twisted into so many odd shapes. It's long neck and head hung upside down, and looked at me. I was stone cold, and couldn't move.\n\nIt started scattering towards me like a spider.\n\n", "\"So, you're a terrorist.\"\n\nHilary Flint's grin was anything but warm, the ruddy cast of the fire throwing waves of shadow over his features. He more animal than man, like some feral wolf or half-starved fox. \n\n\"Sure, if you want to call it that. Ranger, Mage-hunter, murder, terrorist... It's all different words for the same thing. I'm a killer.\"\n\nFaith sat opposite him, leaning against a worn stump. \n\n\"And that doesn't bother you?\"\n\n\"What, killing? Shit, I've been killing since I was twenty, reached triple digits by my twenty-fifth birthday. By now it's as effortless as breathing. If I wanted to I could pull out my knife and slash that pretty little throat of yours right here and now and go to bed as sound as babe. Killing doesn't bother me in the slightest.\"\n\nDespite the implied threat against her Faith pressed him. \n\n\"But surely you regret the loss of life, the children who will never see their fathers, the sheer potential lost forever. All the doctors, and teachers, and parents...\"\n\n\"And that's the point, kid. How long does it take for a Fae to reach reproductive age, two hundred? For a Human it's twenty. We will drown you in a sea of dead, our dead. And every dead Fae saves a hundred human lives. Now I know I'm not a good man. But that doesn't matter anymore. Perhaps I'll burn in Hell when I die, but at least then I'll be satisfied. I've sold my soul to the cause, and considered the bargain square.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Aliens have landed, but at comicon. You are a government agent trying to figure out who is a alien and who isn't and then eliminate them.	[ "######[](#dropcap)\n\nThe tagline for the text briefing was:\"Two highly complex lifeforms. Location: Comic-Con.\" My partner sniggered. I admitted that the situation did seem a bit unlikely, but took it seriously. First-contacts made with humans tend to involve a lot paperwork.\n\nI took the booths, my partner the panels. If there was one thing I gained from this mission, it was an appreciation for amateur SFX makeup. I've seen less convincing pointy ears on real aliens, for Christ's sake!\n\nEventually I got tired of striking out, and being complimented on my \"Kay cosplay\" (whatever that means), so I called base and ordered a temporary temporal halt on the entire San Diego sector, with a few favors left over.\n\nMy partner and I probed every single stiff in the main hall before we noticed the words on the sign hanging over our heads: \"Daft Punk, Main Theater, 12:30 AM Saturday.\"\n\nApparently, both of 'em went on a holiday to Alpha Centauri the weekend before, and in true synthilian fashion had forgotten to change back to their human forms. \n\nAssholes." ]	1
	[WP] Write about what happens the day a girl stops believing in fairy tales, and happily ever after...	[ "There was always something about a good book or movie that allowed Omani to get lost in a world without the everyday obstacles. She would escape to this new world with hope, and linger until as long as possible.\n\nYou either love or hate those of us who possess this 'child-like wonder' and 'naivety'. There are a few of you who mildly tolerate our existence, but you could certainly live without us.\n\nWe are the ones who believe in 'love at first sight,' 'soul mates', and 'happily ever after'. We are told to 'wait' and the right person will find us. We are patient. Omani had perfected the art of being patient. She was the master.\n\nShe was also everything she was supposed to be...beautiful, kind, intelligent and compassionate. So, everyone kept telling her that her 'prince' would surely find her soon enough. But, Omani, was also an introvert and wasn't as social as many of the other girls. Which meant, it was much more difficult for her to even meet boys, much less get to know them. \n\nOmani was also terrible at reading signals from boys. She always seemed to think there was some type of connection, when there really was none at all. Sometimes, she believed that a boy liked her when he did not at all. In fact, he didn't even know she existed sometimes, but Omani didn't seem to understand this. Her knowledge base of relationships consisted of movies and books she read, so considering this, it made perfect sense to her. \n\nThe years went by and Omani grew frustrated and sad. The longer this lasted, the worse she felt about herself, which lowered her self confidence, so when she did actually talk to a boy, it was an epic disaster each and every time. It was after one of these such disasters that she came to a realization. \"I don't know there is any real connection here.\" She realized it was all in her mind, and not a real connection (most likely generated out of need).\n\n\"This is probably not going to happen for me,\" she said to herself, and it hurt (as the truth tends to do). \n\nOmani decided she would rather swallow a painful truth than live a moment longer with a beautiful lie.", "\"what's wrong?\" he asked... I could tell he was genuinely concerned. A considerate young guy named Alex (he is). Alex would be, the first intimate connection, and the last. I say this, not out of a stirring kaleidoscopic I-found-my-soul-mate collection of feelings, but ironically, because I don't think he'd want to hear, the reality of my answer.\n\nWhat's wrong? Where do I begin? From the beginning? I'm not even sure if I could even bookend what's wrong with me. Starting with the 'Car Accident' (The Book of Genesis in the Volume's of 'What's wrong with Alice?'). I think it was the steering wheel that snapped my father's neck and the front end of the oncoming vehicle that severed my mother's torso from her seated (buckled) position in the passenger's seat. The police report had measured a thirteen foot blood trail from my parents car to the final resting place of my mother's torso. I guess it could be comparable to when God divided Heaven and Earth, my parent's in Heaven and I, left here on Earth. To a child, your(my) parent's are(were) God. The distance between Heaven and Earth, for a child (maybe anyone?), is immeasurable, incomprehensible... In fact, so distant, it might not even exist...\n\nAlex, touches my right shoulder... 'Please don't' I think...\n\nWhat else? What else is wrong with Alice? Book Two of the Volume(s), (Oliver Twist: with a twisted twist). There's nothing obscene about the idea of gender reversing Oliver Twist. Especially if it is to play a metaphor for my story, in which, after my parents death, I was somehow, by the strength of the system's incompetence, I wound up in an orphanage. Which, for a while, seemed (in hindsight) like paradise lost. It was a short stint, but too short to truly remember. I was lost in my emptiness, I was 7 years of age at the time. Around the time when thoughts of meeting my parents became a daily occurrence. Does heaven accept suicidal kids? Could God be so cruel? He certainly has been up to that point.\n\nCruel? Just getting started. When my 8th birthday, came, it came with a gift, my uncle. Uncle Frank. With his plaid V-neck sweater (he wore daily). Through some actual Court hearing and money paid, my Uncle was able to adopt me. Is this what God wanted? Is this a girl's dream come true? A man, come to save a hapless orphaned 8 year old out of the depths of smelly bunk beds, depressed and abandoned children? The lawyer thought so. The State thought so. No one asked Alice. They never ask Alice. \n\n(Alex was the first. To ask Alice.)\n\nAnd neither did Uncle Frank (ask Alice). Not the multiple times in the bathtub or the times in his car after school. The gagging and hair pulling and biting of my shoulder. Smacking and spitting and even urinating. I've seen my Uncle Frank, very Frank, on multiple occasions. And each and every time, I wish God, if God was listening, to kill me. Just kill me. Snap my neck like my father, or tear my torso apart. I was 8 at the time. \n\nThe brain does magic when something horrifying is happening to you. It tunes out. It detaches. Problem is , is learning to shut it off when one is out doing normal things like walking the school hallways, or talking to a teacher about homework. Or even having a simple friendship with another school mate. The brain doesn't budge, the brain doesn't know how to turn itself off completely. Some external force has to do that. Like maybe a bullet? Or a hammer? Or a really tall building? The brain is a beautiful piece of biological torture. \n\nWhat's Wrong? Alex, I want to tell you so bad what's wrong. I want to tell you these horror's and these thoughts and these feelings, but, you wouldn't understand. Not that you should, you're only 17. You have your dreams of kissing a girl in the rain, or losing your virginity in the backseat of your dad's Lexus. Maybe you hope that I may be a little naughty but shy and that I'm playing hard to get, and that you rubbing my shoulder is going to 'open me up...'. What's Wrong? My dream's consist of dying in that car with my parent's. Of becoming a nun, if I only could believe in a God...My dream's consist of not feeling terrified talking to each and every boy in class, or walking down the hall's and not wanting to scream, of being able to kiss you on the cheek because, you're very sweet. Of growing up without these nightmares and flashback's and being deathly afraid of\npeople... Those are my dreams. \n\nAlex sits in silence. He looks out the window, the dew building on his dad's Lexus. He acknowledges my muted demeanor as a sign that, this, whatever this is, isn't going to happen. \n\n\"I'll drive you home then...\" he says softly. \n\n\"Okay.\" I say." ]	2
	[WP] The year is 42069. A force is spreading across the universe and wiping out planet after planet. You alone are tasked with sending a message to the past to warn of the impending doom.	[ "Is this on? Oh, okay.\n\nH-hello. This is an urgent message sent via retrograde frequency. Depending on where you are... when you are, that might not mean much. If that's the case, let's just say this is a message from the \"future\".\n\nAssuming this reaches earth, the year over here is... 42069 I think, assuming my calculations are correct. I'm supposed to deliver a message. The message is this: there will be no years after this one. It's the end of the world, baby! That, uh, sounded much cooler on paper. Sorry.\n\nThis isn't really a warning. There's nothing you can do to stop it. It will be the end of time, for all times, no matter when or where you are. We tried to stop it, kind of... actually we didn't.\n\nNo matter what frequency we tried, there was music emanating from a specific point in deep space. Arias, in the most beautiful voice you'll ever hear. One after one, our colonies went silent. No, not silent. They chimed in. They sang. No coms, no code. Just planets after planets in choir. Then they went silent. Really, really silent.\n\nI made peace with my maker today. Depending on when and where you are, you'll have plenty of time for that as well. Heh, soon, I'll get to see my nan again, tell her the lemon tree is doing just fine. Just like I promised. This year, right now, the year of 42069... Let it be known that this is the year of the rapture. I hope you'll sleep at ease with these news. For I have never heard anything more beautiful. \n\nGood bye.\n\nOh, and we have a gift for you as well. T̸h̛e ̧original coordinates ̢f͝r̨ǫm ͢which̶ we ̢f̠̥ͅì̞̳̩̝̱̳r̶̪̘̳̹s̻͘t̞̼̗̳ ̘h̡̦ea͚̗̖͠r̝̤͎̜̬͎͔̕d̤̞̲̝ͅ ̖t͕h̼͔e͔̬̝̜͠ ͇̻̜̝̹arias ͔́is ̕6̨̩̳̟̻̲̜̩͡0͇͍̯͈͈.̡̖͔͘͠4̨̹̳͖̲͓̲̫͝͝5͍͘͝4̴̧̜5҉̣1͉̺̣̘͝0͕̫ͅ,̦̺͇̯̜͕̟͞2̢.̰̣2̮̠̰̖6͔̫̪̦4͎̘͓8̰͖̖̼̬2̨͖̱̰2̴̣̠͇̀͢͟͝4̸̴̧̨̘̫͉͖͙͚.̶̷̟͉̥̝̻̲̯̠̳͠͝\n", "The most important thing, it was decided, was to show solidarity with the people of the past. To let them know that, though we were doomed, we would not stop fighting for us and for them. Our greatest musicians and poets created an ode, one which communicated the core values of our movement: That we would not give up on the people of the past. That we would not disappoint them. That we would not seek to escape the universe and abandon them to their fate.\n\nOf course, the entire reason we made it a song was so that we could give them this dire news without inciting sorrow. To let them know what, though our communications might grow ever-strained, we would never sign off. That we were being ever-truthful, and only interested in their own well being.\n\nIn retrospect, we should probably have picked a [different song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ)." ]	2
	[WP] A man with a trench coat on walks out of an ally and says to you " You either die tomorrow or live forever, the choice is yours."	[ "\"Oh yeah right and I guess that my choice will change the universe, right? \" I was walking home from a long day at work when Mr. Crazy stopped me and told me I either die tomorrow or live forever, what a load of bull. \n\nThe man in the trench coat gave me an angry glare and when he spoke, his voice was deeper with a growl to it, \"You'd be wise to speak kindly to someone with powers like mine unless you want tomorrow to come today so choose or get it chosen for you. \" He said. \n\nI looked around for anyone to notice or hear this guy and come to my rescue but to my surprise, nobody was on the sidewalk and no cars were in the street, \"I don't like to be bothered so I took us somewhere a bit more private also you're running out of time Mr. Jones so I suggest you hurry. \" The male's voice came out calm, smooth, peaceful, nothing like what he sounded like when he was angry. I thought for a few short moments, was living forever as great as it sounded? Would death leave me with more peace or would it worry me only more? Death was meant to be random, that's why it never bothered me, living forever however sounded better than a seeing your death coming. I cleared my throat, \"I choose to live forever. \"\n\nThe man's left eyebrow raised a little as though he were caught off guard, his eyes narrowed and stared into mine, were his eyes glowing? No I was simply seeing things. \"You are immortal now and Mr. Jones. You surprised me. It's been four hundred years since someone chose immortality over death. Enjoy your forever.\" His voice seemed toe echo as I looked around, the man was gone and there were people in their cars and on the sidewalk again, none of them seemed to pay attention to me and I smiled ask began to run home. Time to test this immortality out. \n\nI hope you enjoyed this prompt and as always your opinion is appreciated. ", "A white man with close cropped messy hair walks quickly down the darkened street. His sleeves are rolled up. The clicks of his heels denote his hurried purpose.\n\nA man with a trench coat on walks out of an alley and says to him \" You either die tomorrow or live forever, the choice is yours.\" \n\nThe hurried man stops and looks at him, square in the eyes and says \"I hear they burn for murder. Well, they say it just takes a second to die.\" \n\nThat was the counter-phrase that was agreed upon. It was just a final check-in before the big show. The walking man leaned in and talked in an angry whisper:\n\n\"In this case, it isn't murder, it is a re calibration of the spoiled American way. The capitalist society, where the workers are the slaves, they need this. They are under the thumbs of their oppressors and I shall remove that thumb and I shall help my brothers to rise up and revolt. I WILL live forever. You will see. I will do what has to be done. People a thousand years from now will know the name Lee Harvey Oswald and historians will say \"November 22, 1963 was the day he changed the world and took it out from under the thumb of John Fitzgerald Kennedy and the rich aristocracy and restored power to the people.\" You can bet on that.\" \n\nHe turned and continued quickly on his path, heels clicking on the sidewalk as the trench coated man retreated into the shadows.\n\n", "So. This is it. The Choice. It should be the easiest decision you ever make. Life or death. Right or wrong. Black or white. And yet, I was struggling. I was standing face-to-face with my own death, and it was giving me a choice. I should have chosen life. It should have been immediate. Like saying my own name. Life. Right. White. Life I could have chosen instantly. But forever? To be forever a creature of earth, bound to a world where there was pain, grief, and anger. To condemn my heart to infinite beats, my lungs to infinite breath. \n\nCould I face the world? Could I step away from this person, step into the street knowing that I was condemned to live? \n\nI thought about coming home. Opening the door to Adela. To my wife. The feeling of her body as she embraced me, knowing that I had made the choice to stay. To stay with her. Could I leave her? Knowing she would choose life, could I abandon her to live forever? Could I render her a widow for an infinite life? \n\n'Live. I choose to live.' \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI walked in the door. My breathing raced. I was nervous, panicked. What would I say? How would I explain my choice? Would she believe me? I called her name. My voice shook. \n\n'Addy?' \n\n'Adela?' \n\n'Adela? Where are you?' I could hear something in our bedroom. The wireless was on. I could just hear the words, the classic BBC voice reading something off. 'All over the nation... reporting mysterious encounters with strange... offering a choice between life and death. Reports... those who chose... died suddenly...Apparently painlessly. For those looking for... about loved ones...' a phone number followed. In the second it hit me, I was relieved that Addy had probably encountered one of these men as well. \n\nI called put again. And again. I called her name over and over. I called her cell phone. I called her even as my voice failed. I called her until I found the note. The note saying that she couldn't live without me. The note saying she had chosen wrong. Chosen black. \n", "What is happiness if not shared, what is immortality if not experienced with. So I thought at least as I prepared, and tailored a clean linen trench coat. It ought to be a clever disguise, borrowed from the detective plays of this millennia. This form should suit me well; a trench coat, an unassuming stale look, and a mid-low male voice. The rest did not matter, for it was not going to be seen. I picked the easiest place, filled with most possible targets and landed myself in a giant yet brittle ‘megapolis.’ I told myself, I would make one offer and one offer only. It was albeit too generous anyways, no gift ever presented had been so eternally giving. \n\nSo I jumped, and I landed, in an alley of the higher-up financial district. I saw the man, and I treaded lightly, not to spook him. His physique seemed worthy; his mind left a thinking trail.\n\n‘You!’ He turned back with a heightened brow,\n\n‘You!’ Hah, I did not expect that response, I did not think.\n‘If the choice could be yours, to make now; die tomorrow or live eternally, what choice would you make?’ \n\n‘Huh, you are an interesting one. I would choose to die tomorrow, for choice to be born was not mine, and in death at least I could be my own judge.’\n\n‘Are you serious? This is not a poetry match, tread lightly and choose carefully.’ \n\n‘I am waiting for my death, to find peace in nothingness.’ \n\nMy being collapsed and I reappeared in the other abyss, I sat, pondered and wondered; what world had I created? How one so unwilling to be lived even momentarily?\n", "Things get hard here. In the vast expanse, things get cold. They get quiet. There's a lot of thinking going on. A lot of nothing going on. I wonder if I chose correctly. Was this really the best decision.\n\n\nI had been drinking. I had been shrugging off my responsibilities. It's been so long now that I can finally admit it. The world had gotten too heavy and I didn't have the shoulders to carry it anymore. I just couldn't.\n\n\nI was drinking and people watching. I don't think anyone saw me, but I saw it all. I felt it all. I heard the words and their thoughts. I felt their joy and their sadness. It was too much. I drunk with them. I drowned it all out with whatever they were serving.\n\n\nI watched the night grow. Far away I felt the heat of a million stars burn as they twinkled in the sky. I felt the Earth turn and the shadows grow longer. The night wore on and I grew expectant. It was only a matter of time. There was an odd silence then, just before. I don't know how humans do it, if it is some instict that you've gotten over the years, but you can sense when something bad is about to happen.\n\n\nAnd they sensed it then, even if it was too late and they didn't know what was happening. They all grew quiet and then there was the loudest rattle I have heard in a long time. Screams and gore and dead hopes splattered in the atmosphere. The guns blared in bright flashes, twinkles of death, just like those dying stars that I could feel. They came in and did their work. They had their fun. \n\n\nA few of the patrons were underaged. I felt them die. A few were pious. I heard their pleas. A few were atheistic. I felt their sadness. Then it grew quiet and I was alone. I don't know what motivates man, and I don't know what motivated those gunmen. I finished my drink and walked outside.\n\n\nThey shot at me and screamed praises to me. I wondered if to laugh. I wondered if I should have done something. Maybe if I had been younger, I would have. But I am old now and I was old then. My feelings were clouded and unhappy. I fell in the alley outside, drunk and looked up. My mind raced. It raced forever and past eternity in a second. It drew a blank and all I felt was regret and sadness. Sirens blared in the distance and some of the gunmen had killed themselves. One followed me and pointed his gun at me. I knew my options then.\n\n\nHe spoke but I did not listen. I knew what I could do. I could live and repent as all the books about me say to do. I could become anew and change things. I could be who they all expected me to be. But I knew I was too old to fool myself.\n\n\n\"Do it,\" I told him.\n\n\nThis time I let go and I felt death for the first time. I felt the life drain and knew it would not be long before my body died. Then I would be gone forever.\n\n\nAnd so now I roam here. I think sometimes and enjoy the quiet. I no longer hear the cries and screams and feel the immense pressure of a world gone wrong. Now, I feel nothing and nothing swirls in my head and nothing ever will. I roam alone, cold and forgotten. I wonder if I have made the right decision, but thinking is useless. Nothing can change now. It is as it is.", "I look him in the eye \"How will i die?\"\n\n\"Im..... Not sure.... Youll just die.\" He says a bit confused. At this point in life, i really stopped giving a fuck.\n\n\"You know what. Fuck fate. Im too fucking depressed.\" I pull out my concealed carry and shoot myself in the head. I die instantly.\n\n\"Oh fuck...\" The guy says in his last moments as the universe implodes.", "\"I'll take the death then please\" I said to the man with a smile on my face. \n\n\"To gain immortality y ... wait, what?\"\n\n\"One death please. Thank you\"\n\n\"No, thats ... you're suppose to pick living forever\"\n\n\"Yeah, nah. I'll take the death\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"First half of this film has been shit, I don't want to stick around for the rest\"\n\n\"I ... well shit, sorry. Not sure what to do here. No one has picked death before\"" ]	7
	[WP] Your mental disorder has been personified, and you are waiting outside a room where you will be allowed to go in and have a conversation with him/her. The door is opened, and what do you see?	[ "I wake up to the sound of a deep hum. The complete darkness that had surrounded me is slowly being dispersed by a long, thin light all around me, shining through what looks like a crack. Suddenly, a flood of light temporarily blinds me as the top part of the pod I am in is opened. I slowly sit up as my eyes start to adjust to the light. I go to scratch my head and feel that the EEG is still hooked up. \n\"Can someone please remove that for her,\" a familiar voice had said. \n\"Dr.Keene,\" I said, \"Is it done?\" \n\"Yes, Jane. The analysis was a success. The downloading took longer than expected, but we were able to extract about 97% of your memories. Within these memories, the machine was able to analyze any situation in your life that may have led to your long-term depression.\" \n\"Can I go into the room now?\" I asked, partly dreading what was coming. \n\"It's ready when you are, Jane. Remember, the machine's job is to analyze your memories and to create a personified...\" Dr.Keene pauses, \"character of your mental disorder. We do not know what the machine has created, nor do we know what to expect. If for whatever reason, things get too intense for you, remember that the Holographic Termination Switch is near the door. We'll be right outside if you need anything else.\" \nI look from Dr. Keene, to the two nurses on either side of him. The woman on his right had a reassuring, almost motherly smile on her face. The man to his left was unable to hide his concerns for me. He waved me over, and he led me through the plain white room to the Holographic Simulation Room. \n\"Good luck,\" he managed to say with a weak smile as I walked in through the doors. \nI turned on the lights to the small, but quaint room. There was a red sofa directly to my left, and two stocked bookcases on the opposite side. A few plants, a coffee table, and some surprisingly beautiful paintings gave the room a nice feel. \nI look to my right and see the two switches labeled \"Holographic Initiation Switch\" and \"Holographic Termination Switch.\" \nI put my hand on the metal Initiation switch, but find my self reluctant to pull it down. \n\"Please don't let me see my brother,\" I said to myself as I initiated the hologram and made my way to the sofa. \nI sat down and waited. \nNothing. \nSuddenly, the coffee table in front of me kind of flickered, like static. \n\"Huh.\" \nAnd the whole room started to fade away like static. A crackling noise was accompanying the changes of the room as the walls began to fade away. The floor had already turned to grass and the coffee table was no longer there. The ceiling pulled away and was replaced by a dark, cloudy sky. I heard the wind before I felt it, and I stood up as what looked like a small child was starting to take form in front of me. \nHer back was to me. A child of 10, maybe 11. The cloudy sky had produced rain and thunder by now. We were both on a grassy, rectangular field, with trees and a small fence around the perimeter. On the ground in front of the little girl was someone else. \nIt was me. \n10 years old, covered in mud and softly crying. \n\"Sofie?\" I said to the girl who had her back to me. She turns around, wearing the sly smirk she always had. \n\"Hi Jane. Do you remember this day?\" She started to walk towards me. I stepped back, completely surprised by how real everything looked. \n\"Today was the day that you finally fought back, isn't it Jane? Years and years of me teasing you and calling you fat. Calling you ugly. Pushing you down.\" She kept walking towards me, speeding up her pace. I kept stepping back. \"Remember that time when we all played hide-n-seek in the forrest? We told you to count to 400, because it's a big place and we needed to find a really good spot to hide. You were so happy when we invited you to play with us.\" \nAs Sofie got closer, she stopped and pointed back to where my 10 year old self was on the ground. \"Look, this is it.\" \nI look up and see myself stand up from the puddle I was laying in. Off into the distance, I see another copy of Sofie walking away. She had just finished spitting on me. \n\"Remember?\" she continued, \"Remember, you had gotten to 300, and we were all standing behind you.\" \n\n I unexpectedly have to go. But if anyone really wants me to I can come back and finish this later. I feel like I'm too far into it to delete anything. \n", " \"I-it's me.\" I gasp as the door opens to reveal what seems to be me sitting at a metal table. I'm frozen to the spot, the real me, not the other me. The overhead light bulb buzzed and flickered. I couldn't stop staring, as in both me's. Our, my?, eyes were locked. She looked just as surprised. Surly she knows what she is?\n \"Are you really me?\" She asks. My eyebrows furrowed, maybe she didn't.\n \"No, you're me.\" I say as I slowly walk into the room and sit in front of her. \"Wow, it's like staring in a mirror, except you don't move with me.\" She's looking confused now.\n \"How am I you if I'm me?\" She asks. I shake my head at her.\n \"No, you're not real. You were made in a lab. You're a manifestation of my... of my anxiety. This is supposed to help me deal with it by making it-- you, a real person, but I didn't know you'd look like me.\" I explain, still in awe of myself.\n \"I think you have some things backwards.\" she says, crossing her arms.\n \"Don't you feel anxious? Terrified of everything? You're supposed to talk to me. Explain why I'm anxious all the time. Help me be normal.\" I say, maybe a little more desperately than intended. She eyes me suspiciously.\n \"I don't feel anxious in the least. I feel like I wanna get out of here and get something to eat. Plus my boyfriend and I have a date later.\" She says while examining her nails. \n \"Wait, your boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend...\" my voice trails off as I realize I don't remember where I live, or my name, or my age.\n \"I think this experiment was a success.\" the other me says. \"You've gotten rid of my anxiety, I gotta go now. Do whatever you want with her.\" \n I stare in horror as the other me gets up and leaves the room. Everything is quiet for a few minutes as I slowly come to terms with not being a real person. Then the anxiety that makes me up overwhelms me. The tears come fast and hot, the shaking is next, rapid breathing, the edges of my vision start to darken. I know I'm going to pass out, I know this will be the rest of what ever life I'm going to lead. \"No...\" I whisper as I fall from the chair and white coated doctors fill the room to collect me.\n", "I sat in an empty waiting room, wringing my hands around an imaginary wet towel. The room had been full an hour ago when I sat down, but one by one, each other patient went through that solid white door to confront their own enemies, and I haven’t seen them since. I couldn’t hear a peep from beyond the door – and so, I waited, and waited, and waited, in silence, until The Doctor came to get me.\n\n“It’s your turn.” He said simply. He wore garb similar to what a pastor wears, and I felt as if I were being given the OK to pass through that door and into the afterlife – but no, that isn’t what this was at all.\n\nHe opened the door for me, and after a deep breath and some last minute silent, mental convincing, I stepped over the threshold. I looked back at him – this was nothing but a hallway, full of doors.\n\n“You’ll know the one that’s yours.” \n\nNodding, I looked forward, and took my first steps. A blank door to my right, a blank door to my left; another blank door to my right, another to my left – so on and so forth. Some had a dim light escaping from underneath the crack between the base of the door and the floor; others appeared pitch black, but I knew they weren’t empty. Surely each room was filled with a patient and his or her Disorder – and soon, I would meet mine.\n\nIt felt like hours, but I know it was mere seconds before I reached the far end of the hall. I looked back to see the door closed, and I wonder if The Doctor was still on the other side, waiting for those of us who had come in, or if he’d gone, knowing this could take some time. In front of me was what had to have been my door, although now that I saw it, I knew it must have been similar to at least two or three other doors that I had previously passed – or at least, similar to what others must have seen, for each other door remained blank to me. On the very front, in black bold letters, and even with braille underneath it, it read: DEPRESSION.\n\nI placed my hand on the cold door knob and opened it with ease - it made me wonder if all of the other doors would have been locked if I’d tried to open them. Too late for that. \n\nThe room was empty, save for a table with two chairs… and in one of the chairs, there she was: So pale in skin tone that she was almost blue, and dressed in various shades of black and blues that were far darker than her nearly see-through skin, with only the faintest hint of what may have been a smile attempting to dance on her lips, there she was – Depression. She looked up at me through long eyelashes, longer than mine – and while there were no tear stains on her cheeks, her eyes appeared as though they were going to overflow with them at any second.\n\n“Um….Hi,” I managed. Although she was a part of me, I felt sorry – that because of me, she existed; and yet, it was because of her that I often felt so hopeless and empty. \n\nShe didn’t reply. She simply stared at me, and what I had thought had been a hint of a smile was gone – she was only sad, now. Without warning, she burst into tears, sobbing, putting her face into her hands, perhaps so that I wouldn’t see. And though she was separated from me, I could feel what she felt – the sudden drop and the brokenness in my heart that tore at me every day, every night – but she was doing what I could never do, what I was never brave enough to do; she was just letting herself feel it openly, while I struggled to hide it.\n\nShe looked nothing like me; and yet, I could see myself in her, somehow, somewhere. She was certainly younger than me – but then, I imagine, she must only be as old as the diagnosis itself. In her teens, if she smiled, she would have been pretty; but because she was so sad, it was hard to see anything else aside from that. \n\n“I…” She said between sobs, “don’t want to live anymore. Please…”\n\nFirst I was alarmed, as is the standard reaction when anyone makes such a claim. But then, I realized, I didn’t want her to live anymore either. \n\nI didn’t want her to exist; not within me, not anymore. Because the pain she was exhibiting, the pain I knew she was feeling, the pain I was feeling right now…the pain I felt everyday… I’d wanted nothing more in the last few years than to not feel it anymore at all.\n\n“The pills you take… they only calm me down a little, you know. And they don’t last forever. Then, when they’re gone, I only feel worse, worse than before you took them!” She yelled at me, as if I’d committed some transgression against her. The tears never stopped, but her face contorted into one of anger. “You never pay attention to me – and then I’m alone, just like you! And no one is there to care about me, to make me better, and I have to feel alone and hurt and empty and sad and angry all at once, all the time, and you just IGNORE ME!”\n\nShe stood up and through her sobs, she hurled these accusations at me – and while I angrily thought about how she could have the audacity to be mad at me, I realized… \n\n“So the only reason you’re still here… is because… I ignore you?”\n\nAnd like a child whose been caught doing something wrong, or a deer in head lights, she looked at me, and her verbal assault came to an abrupt end. She sat back down, and the tears welled over, coming down her face as rain does a car window.\n\nI had never tried to embrace the sadness I felt – I only tried to ignore and push it away. To silence it with pills, or wine, or a combination of the two… but for years, it had only continued to plague me. Rather… she…had continued to plague me.\n\n“If…I acknowledge you…you’ll…eventually go away? If I let myself feel, you’ll go away?”\n“I will die.” She said, smiling through tears. “I want to die.”\n\n\nThe way she said it was disconcerting but… I understood. She was depression, after all. I knew precisely what she felt, because she is what I felt.\n\n“I’ll help you.” I said, because I knew it was what she wanted to hear, and because I wanted the same thing. I wanted her to disappear from me, eventually. “I’ll acknowledge you from now on… I promise.”\n\nWith the smile still glimmering through thick, bubble-like tears, she suddenly… evaporated. And I was in an empty room, and it was as if there’d never been anyone else in here at all. Suddenly, I was weightless, yet somehow, my heart that had been nothing but cracked and empty for years…felt full. I stood up, and took a final look around the room, before exiting. The other rooms, too, had been left – each door left ajar by its former occupant. \n\nI closed mine.\n\n\n", "The monocle was a surprise.\n\nThe pipe and the plush-looking smoking jacket wasn’t so much a surprise, though. I hadn’t smoked for years, although I had cravings quite often in the morning, usually as my mind figured the taste of tobacco would complement the coffee perfectly. I had only smoked a pipe once, and at the time I delighted at the purity of the taste and the skill required to keep the thing puffing along.\nIt stood to reason that my disorder liked the pipe. His face was partially masked by the curls of smoke that orbited his head.\n\nBut the monocle was a surprise.\n\nHe turned to me, and seemed to appraise me, scanning his eyes up and down my casual clothes before he glanced over to the nurse beside me. He snorted at the nurses scrubs, \n\n“You can leave us now.” my disorder said to the scrubs.\n\nThe nurse turned to me and offered me a reassuring smile. He gave me a pat on the arm with the clipboard he held, as if to say, “All the best.” before he strode from the sterile room and closed the door.\nI turned back to my disorder and began to speak before I was interrupted.\n\n“Are you not pleased?” my disorder asked.\n\nThe question surprised me. Had I been wearing a monocle myself, it would have fallen from my face as my eyebrows leapt upwards. It was a strange question, as though my disorder was expecting me to have been in awe of him. At least that was the feeling I got from his tone. His accent was a little more plumb than mine, and he enunciated each word with an assuring cadence. He carried far more confidence than I could muster in my everyday life, so I started to wonder if I had been shown the right room.\n\nBut he looked like me, save for the monocle.\n\n“Are you allowed to smoke in here?” I started.\nThe disorder huffed in amusement, “I think they can permit me this one luxury considering how amazing it is that I even exist”. He turned away from me to pace about the room. He inspected the walls, which were decorated with simple accoutrements. He passed his hand over the economic chairs that were sat in the middle of the room, “I guess it’s a decent enough room in which I can do my first walk alone.” he said absently. As he wandered the room, he spoke again to me, although not giving me his full attention, “Many months of counselling, and you are unsure of who I am?”\n\nI racked my brains for any kind of idea of what it was I currently faced, “I thought you’d be different.” I started.\n\n“I’m a marvel of modern medicine!” Disorder exclaimed, “They have surgically removed me from your personality, which is a feat that no scripture has ever mentioned before. Not even God’s work has described the ability to remove a facet of personality from one’s being. How else would I be?”\n\nI wasn’t sure of the truth of Disorder’s claim, but he said it with such confidence, I was inclined to believe him.\n\n“I guess,” I said, “But I guess I didn’t know exactly what I was expecting. I started counselling because I was feeling depressed, so I...” there was a pause as I considered what I would say next, “I guess I thought you’d wear blue, at least.”\n\nDisorder snorted with amusement, the sound chuffing inside his nasal cavity, “Depression is a black dog, don’t you know?” smoke emanated from his nose as he spoke, and I wondered how he kept his composure without coughing. He must have detected some annoyance on my face, because Disorder continued, “If you ever got past your cowardice, you could be like me, you know?”\n\nI felt the frown on my face dip further between my eyes. It stood to reason that I wouldn’t necessarily get along with my disorder, however I was surprised at the amount at which this guy was turning up my consternation. I felt like slapping that monocle off his face.\n\n“You are my problem, you realise?” I said to Disorder, “The reason they removed you from me was because I wanted to be rid of you.”\nDisorder laughed, “What makes you think that I’m the problem? Ever stop to think that the problem is with you? Ever think that you were removed from me, and now you’re seeing the kind of great person you were holding back with your doubt?”\n\nI felt the blood drain from my face. He said those words so confidently and with such firmness that I paused the conversation. Each passing moment of silence seemed to resonate around the small room, and I could feel the thrump of each heart beat in my chest. Was I the disorder? Was I crippling self-doubt?\n\nNo, I assured myself. I remember paying the bill. I remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I remember uploading my Youtube video. Disorder was the disorder. He was a jerk. I felt numb as I started to realise what was happening.\n\n“God, you’re a wanker.” I said to disorder.\n\n“I’m you, you know.” Disorder said.\n\nI lowered my hand to a nearby chair to steady myself, “I’m not a wanker.” I said through the fog of my startled realisation.\n\n“Well, I prefer Narcissistic Personality Disorder. It has such a complicated-sounding descriptor that it makes you feel intelligent just by saying it.” Disorder puffed on his pipe.\n\n“I was a narcissist?” I asked. It didn’t seem to make sense in my head. I was depressed because I had very few friends, and that my Youtube channel wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever project I started seemed to just fritter away to nothing, eventually slipping away unnoticed. I just kept failing over and over again, “That can’t be right.” I reasoned.\n“Why not? Haven’t you always thought that the world deserves your voice?” Disorder asked, “Haven’t you always just blamed everyone else for your failings?”\n\n“I… no.” I started, but I kept looking inward, feeling Disorder’s barbs hitting home. With each past project I raised in my head, and with each of their failings, I rationalised things by looking at the problems being borne outwards, and not stemming from me. I never stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, what I did I was actually rubbish at. My Youtube channel wasn’t anything remarkable, really. Just another smarmy response video channel that would openly mock those with whom I disagreed. Just like everyone else.\n\nDisorder kept puffing on his pipe, looking at me through that accusing monocle. He looked pleased with himself, a smug smile appearing with each rhythmic puff he took.\n\n“I guess it’s a good thing I had you removed then.” I said.\n\n“What will you do without me?” Disorder asked, still smiling, “I was what kept you going. I was that deluded belief in your head. Without me, you’ll have no drive to achieve.”\nAgain, his tone emanated confidence, and I found myself believing him. That frustrated me. I was just so willing to go along with what he said.\n\nI then had a moment. Disorder might have been right, but I then realised that he was the stem of the problems I had faced. It was his actions that lead to what I thought was my depression. The disgust I held toward this monocled jerkface was the same feeling that my previous friends must have felt. From all of Disorder’s bluster and confidence that was meant to make me feel inferior, I started to realise was just a veneer.\n\n“I think I’ll cope.” I said to Disorder.\n\n“You think?” Disorder asked, that smug smile still attached to his face.\n\n“Well, it’s not like you can go back in me.” I replied.\n\nDisorder’s smile faded.\n\n“Besides, I don’t know what they plan on doing with the disorders they remove from people.” I said evenly, “It’s not like people want disorders.”\n\nDisorder’s monocle dropped from his eye and he coughed slightly from sharply and incorrectly inhaling from his pipe.\nAt that moment, the nurse came back into the room. He ticked off some items on his clipboard and smiled to Disorder, “Alright. I think we’re done now.” The nurse regarded me for a moment, “Thank you. I hope you feel better.”\n\nAs I started to exit the room, I heard Disorder speak, “Wait? Where are you going?”\nI paid him no mind as I strolled from the room. I started to feel lighter with each successive step. As I pulled the door closed behind me, I only heard the nurse speak, “Down to the holding pens with you.”", "Sitting here, I can’t help but think this isn’t normal. Not just sitting here in the lobby twiddling my thumbs, dreading entering a room that might as well be hell. No; it’s this… injustice. I’ve done my job faithfully for 20 years. I’ve done the best with what I have. I like to think I’m a good person. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to. I should be the President by now dammit. Yet, here I am. Maybe I am broken.\n\nThe clock chimes, signaling 6am. I stand, but hesitate in front of the office door. The polished wood returns my reflection, nearly distorted past recognition. With a deep breath I open the door and enter the room. On the far side sits a leather chair turned to look out a glass wall onto the city. An ornate wooden desk sits between us, and in front of it a far simpler chair.\n\n“You’re five seconds late, and I’m already running out of patience with you.”\n\n“Yes sir,” I quietly reply while taking a seat, careful to keep the legs aligned with the carpet’s pattern.\n\nHe turns around in his chair, looking me in the eye. He’s me. His hair’s trimmed short and tidy, his beard masterfully styled, and his suit without a wrinkle or stray hair.\n\n“Are you trying to make me look bad? When I negotiated the Arts and Literature Act through congress, do you think this is what I had in mind? NO! The request was so simple even you could understand it. We’re competing with Leonardo da Vinci, Van Gogh, Dali, amateurs. What did you have us make? Garbage. Don’t get me started on the ‘writing’, either. Now the whole thing is going to be repealed. Do you have any idea how bad this looks?”\n\n“We don’t…”\n\n“Yes, we do. I expect perfection, and with good reason. Now I look like a fool. You look like a fool. We all look like fools, and this fact is going to be in the archives for years. Let’s be honest here; if I could fire you I would. However, my position here isn’t symbolic. If you pull a stunt like this again you’re going to regret it. Now, get out of my office.”\n\n“Yes, Mr. President.”\n\nDefeated, I quietly leave. The alarm clock is going to go off soon, and I’ll have to wake our body up. Maybe this time I’ll steer it right. Maybe we’ll get something done.", "I entered the room, where another person was being talked to. They tilted their head, then looked at me. Smiling:\n\n\"Fine, fine. Golden, even.\"\n\n\"If you say so. Remember, you two: Any lasting damage to your psyche is your own responsibility, not ours.\"\n\nThe man left. I put a more careful eye to the man in the room. He was smiling, constantly even. Exuded confidence and charisma in a somehow rotten way.\n\nHe dressed in my clothes, but the fabric was gold. The hair was gold, the skin was gold. Not in a particularly sparkly way, but they still glowed.\n\n\"So. You're...\"\n\n\"You already know.\" He said. I didn't know if he knew what I knew, which was something I was half expecting. I wasn't sure what I could say without messing up.\n\n\"...Alright, are you going to say anything?\" I opened my mouth, but he shot me a look. \"No? Well, shut up and listen. You have to accept me. Everyone wants to be larger than life.\"\n\n\"U-um-\"\n\n\"You just have to listen to me. Where will you be without me? I keep you balanced. It's like...\"\n\n\"...wrong.\" I finally spoke. \"We can't think that we're the center of the universe forever.\"\n\n\"Are you sure? The world functions on self-interest. You're either on top of the world or nowhere good. Don't you want to stand out?\"\n\n\"...no...\" I mumbled.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah you do. Egomania isn't the worst thing to have. Without me? You would have been found drowned in a bathtub years ago.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Are we in agreement?\"\n\nA click. I wanted to say more, but I looked toward the noise. He did, too.\n\nThen?\n\nThe door opened.\n\n---\n\n\"Give us another minute, doc!\" He said.\n\nBut he wasn't looking at us. He turned away from the door, talking to someone else.\n\n\"Sir, social anxiety and egomania don't normally come hand in hand, so I'm rather impressed. They've already met, so you can talk to both of them.\"\n\n\"Got it. Thank you, sir.\"", "I walked in, and she was beautiful.\n\nHer face looked just like mine, even. But prettier. Her cheekbones were more defined and her jawline was sharp as the edge of a knife. She looked at me and smiled, I could feel myself falling in love with her instantly. Then she stood up, up off the bed where I had spent so many nights with my stomach cramping in hunger, and walked towards me.\n\nAs she walked, I could see the slim lines that defined her body. Perfect legs clad in tight grey jeans, legs that I both admired and envied. A tiny waist, accented by a loose-flowing shirt and braided belt. Everything that I had wanted from my own body, once upon a time. And her face, her face could outshine even the best picture of me with the perfect filter on at the best moment even when she was sobbing. Those perfectly pink lips, flushed and rosy cheeks, the perfectly straight teeth. Everything I had once envisioned for myself. She speaks first.\n\n\"I'm Anna. You're Rosalie?\" I nodded, surprised by her boldness. She walks closer. \"You have so much... potential.\" And by the last word she was close enough that her lips were up by my ear, her eyes fluttered shut in a move that would be cheesy on anyone else and worked perfectly with her. \"You could be so much better...\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" The venom in my words surprised even me. \"Shut up, shut up, shut up, you don't know anything!\" She laughs with a smile like broken glass and a voice like rusty nails. \n\n\"You're disgusting, though, look at yourself!\" Her voice is like a bell. That's what it is, a bell that dings and chimes so prettily but breaks the second you drop it. She's just a bell, and I'll sweep her right off the table.\n\n\"I'm not.\" I say, but I'm lying. I'm always lying. I'm lying to myself, that I'm not fat, I'm lying to everyone else when they ask me if I've been eating right. How could I be eating right with these... rolls?\n\nShe laughs again, with that easy self-confidence and assuredness, everything I've wanted. She's perfect and poised and her voice is like tiny bells as she say, \"Don't worry, I can help you.\"\n\nI take a deep breath and hate myself for letting her.", "“I don’t know, isn’t that a bit extreme? I didn’t think it was even available to the public yet?”\n\n“It isn’t. I have some friends in the Crestfield Institute. I read over the trial paper before they published, and it was fascinating. I truly think you would benefit from it.” Dr. Kelly had a way of telling me what I should do without changing his tone. The instruction in his words was clear. I could say no, but good soldiers don’t say no. “SIR, YES SIR” was reverberating through my brain before I could think of an answer. Act, don’t think. Think, don’t act. It’s difficult to remember who I am, and who I’m supposed to be. \n\nI smiled, unsure if the weakness was detectable. “I’ll try anything you recommend.” \n\nI was uncomfortable with my progress. Talk crap for 100 minutes a week. Waste the 9,080 other minutes. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I’d do anything to break the monotony. Another session over. No homework. Homeostasis at “fucked in the head”, because they would rather that than the instability of change.\n\n\nIt was another wasted 4,600 minutes before I was at signing in to the overly fancy Crestfield Institute. The security guard doubling as a desk jockey eyed me wearily after I requested Dr. Palmer and the DNT group. People always treat you differently when they know you’re a little crazy. Smile. Be polite. Don’t do anything startling. Statistically, I was far more at risk in that situation than the chap with a loaded gun. I clicked the pen just once, loudly, before I put it back down on top of the sign in sheet. I pretended not to notice the twitch and slight flinch of the security guard as I thanked him brightly for the directions he gave me. \n\n5th floor, left. I guessed that meant Palmer had an entire wing, and as I stepped out of the elevator I knew I was right. There were double doors to my left and to my right, both secured by keypads. I knocked and waited. I smiled, I filled out forms, I consented, I acted normal. A reflex, like tapping your break when you see a cop car.\n\nDr. Palmer herself was a lot colder than I was used to with Dr. Kelly. She didn’t shake my hand or introduce herself fully. She only spoke directly to her assistant, who had gone through the forms with me. “We don’t take NOS.” “We do now. If this is going to go public we have to test NOS” Not otherwise specified. There’s something wrong, but we don’t know what exactly. A cop out diagnosis. A waste of 100 minutes a week. \n\nGuinea pig. Great. I hoped I wouldn’t drown like those SSRI mice. Typical, the only clinically significant information I might provide is dying. A data point on the “how crazy are you?” chart. I was being hyperbolic and arrogant. The chart would be about how effective the treatment is, realistically. \n\n“Do you understand what we’re going to do? Dual Narrative Therapy?” Dr Palmer asked me. She had stopped bickering with her assistant. Suddenly I was relevant again. \n\n“You’re going to inject me with some drugs and ions, attach a VR headset and monitors, and direct psychotherapy on a chemical and interactive level.” I’d bet anything this treatment was going to end up on the black market once people realised the potential for pleasure from it.\n\nI went back to being irrelevant as they continued discussing the merits of treating me, while also preparing me. 5 minutes later I was in a dentists chair, hooked up to a bunch of equipment. The assistant was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. \n\n\nI was sitting in a waiting room, similar to the one I had filled out forms in earlier. The assistant appeared, just as he had done earlier. Unlike earlier, he took me by the arm and walked me to new door. “Remember: you’re facing the illness,” he whispered as he pushed me in.\n\nIt was a small, tiled room. Utterly blank, apart from the kid playing in the far corner of it, and now me.\n\n“You shouldn’t have come here.” The kid turned around, unprompted. I was too taken aback to respond. I stepped forward, not believing the thing eating me up was just a child.\n\n“Why did you come here?” The kid was angry now. But it wasn’t just a kid. It was me as a kid. Was that normal? I didn’t know any kids. Maybe I was just projecting. A fucking kid.\n\n“I’m, I’m sick. You’re making me sick.”\n\n“No, I’m not. I don’t even know you. How am I making you sick?”\n\n“No, I’m you, and you’re making me sick and it has to stop now.”\n\nHow do you reason with a child? How do you reason with insanity? I was not fucking prepared for this. \n\n“I’m not you. You’re old and weird and fat”\n\nIt clicked. My condition was hiding in me like HIV. It was hiding itself as me. That’s why I couldn’t detect it. That’s why I was NOS. The wolf in sheep’s clothing. A cuckoo egg. The kid was the monster. If I could see my enemy, I could attack. I smiled. I must have looked maniacal to the sickness because suddenly it looked frightened. \n\n“Go-go away.” I walked closer. It was going to be really, really ugly, but afterwards I would be free from this demon. “No, I’m going to rid us of this sickness. I’m going to make myself pure and healthy, and the blood of my enemies shall wash away my ailments” Might as well play the part, I decided.\n\n\nJosh looked away from the screen to Dr. Palmer in pure horror. Her mouth was little more than a thin line by now. The subject was murdering a 9 year old child. A chokehold hadn’t worked and now blunt force was being used.\n\n“We have to stop this, this is –” words failed the assistant as the child’s screams pounded from the speakers embedded in the monitoring station. “Valuable data. Call Dave Kelly, we need him here immediately. Prepare a sedative and blocker, we’ll inject when this,” Dr. Palmer faltered for a moment, “episode is over.”", "As the cheap wooden door creaked open on its rusted bronze hinges the room inside was dark except for a single lamp in the corner of the room. A large menacing shadow covered the wall behind it, the bones in its back became tall spikes protruding from its flesh reaching the ceiling. A sudden feeling of fear consumed my mind. I remembered what they told me during orientation, that this was completely safe and my body would not be harmed. I starred at the shadow, examining the chips in wall's paint that looked like countries on a map. My eyes followed its edges until I was looking directly at it. \n\nIts knees were tucked in resting its head against them, long thin fingers wrapped around its shins, its spine visible along with each of its ribs. It sat there, head down, curled into a ball not taking notice of my entrance. Its skin was pure black, resembling that of printer ink, and not a single hair left on its body. It looked more alien than human, a shriveled version of me withering away with every tick of the clock. I walked towards it silently as if not to wake it. As I got closer I could hear it breathing, wheezing upon exhale.\n\nI slid down against the wall, sitting down next it. The shriveled man took no notice. \n\n\"Hello,\" I said. No reply. Just the rhythmic sounds of breathing. From close up I could see how thin it really was, its skin sagged over its bones although it did not appear to be of old age. Every bone in it body was clearly defined, it couldn't have weight more than 80 pounds. Its long legs tucked into its body showed it must be tall but had no strength to stand. I reached out my hand, resting my hand on its bony shoulder. Its skin was ice cold and I could feel every point and edge of its bones. It shrugged me off with a surprising aggression and I took away my hand. \n\n\"Go away,\" It said. It's voice was course as if it had been gargling handfuls of gravel for the past 35 years. \n\n\"I've come to kill you,\" I said. It lifted its head off it knees and starred into my eyes. I could see nothing but blackness in its eyes, they were dark and and showed no emotion.\n\n\"Death is my only way to escape this prison inside your mind. You'd be doing me a favor,\" It said. \" You've kept me alive all these years. Why the sudden change of heart?\"\n\n\"I'm ready to be happy. I've met someone.\"\n\n\"Ah I see, another woman has won your heart and now you want her to make room for her in your head.\" It said.\n\n\"I'm tired of you controlling me. I think I finally have a chance here. A chance to make something of myself and become a man.\" I said. \n\n\"What makes you think she's not like the others?\" it asked. \"She's going to leave you and it just going to be you and me again, you kill me now and you've got nothing left.\"\n\n\"It's a risk I'm willing to take. I've lived with you inside me for too long. All I want is to be on my own. I want to feel what it means to be alive. I'm tired of carrying you with me everywhere I go.\" My eyes welled with tears as I spoke to it. \"I can finally stand on my own, I don't want you here anymore!\"\n\nThe lamp flickered and the room went dark. My eyes fluttered open and I was blinded by a bright florescent light shining into my eyes. Feeling alarmed I sat up, I was in a room with two women dressed in lab coats with their hair tucked back into tight buns. They frantically scribbled notes onto their clipboards, the blonde one was the first to speak. \n\n\"Welcome back Mr. Ishikawa.\" she said. I reached up and felt my head had been shaved. I could feel four or five wires taped around my skull. My memory slowly came back to me. \"Can you describe to us what you saw?\"\n\n", "First things off the bat, my name is Sam. Some people call me fat Sam, but to be honest with you I ain't so fat. Lotsa people call me Gary too, but that ain't me, neither. I'm Sam see, just Sam, and that's all there is to it. I'm Sam and I'm relatively slender. Now you may think that's all well and good, I know I sure did, but ain't it always the case that something's lurking right below the surface? Well here's my story about just that very topic.\n\nThey been saying I got some kinda problem for a while now. Now who the hell are they to talk huh? I'm in relatively good shape for my age. I eat fast food two times, maybe three times a week, Ok? I don't never cause no trouble for nobody, and I even been told by them few lady types who have been so lucky as to spend an evening with me, that I actually smell pretty damn good. A gentleman who's gentle on the nose, that's what they say, alright? Now how do you like that?\n\nBut apparently this problem, it ain't about any of that. It ain't my attitude, or my hygiene, or even my physique, with which they have their beef. Other than them bozos calling me fat Sam all the damn time, that is. But nah, that ain't the issue, not really anyway. It's my brain they say, I got something the matter with my noggin, that's what they been telling me. It ain't really firing on all cylinders, not clicking quite right, or so they say. \n\nSo fine, I tell them, whatever. Like, tell me what I need to do to get my gray matter in tip top shape, you know? Now, I never conceived of the notion that I was having any troubles up there before, but hey I'm willing to entertain the possibility that perhaps there's always room for a little fine tuning, you know? \n\nNow get this, they tell me they know just the thing to cure my \"disorder\", or whatever the heck it is. Apparently there's this guy, I don't know who he is, but he can turn all your mental troubles into some kind of clone, right? Some pseudo version of you that really drills down into one particular aspect of your psyche that you so desire to study more deeply. Then you, I don't know, talk it out with your personified woes and the theory is that'll fix you right up. To be honest with you, the whole thing sounds like a big fraud, but hey maybe I been missing more than I thought, if they think a place like this is the ticket for a guy like me, right?\n\nSo there I am in front of this big oak door. Maybe it was mahogany. To be honest with you I don't know what particular brand of tree they make these things out of, but it looked strong and well polished that much I do indeed know. Sure looked heavy too. Then some guy walks up to me, I guess he worked there or something, but he didn't have no lab coat or mustache like any of them guys who usually work in a place like this. But he says to me they finished their scan and input all my variables into some sorta \"psychiatric molding device\" and that I can go ahead and head on in that big oak door, cause guess what, my clone is ready. \n\nAlright, I figure, let's just go on in and see just what exactly is what, why don't we? So in I go. I'd say you'd never guess what I saw, but if you been with me this far, I think maybe perhaps you could guess it. Standing in the center of the room is this guy, and I'll be god damned if he didn't look just like yours truly, good old slender Sam.\n\nI walk up to the guy and offer a handshake, to which he thankfully accepts. \"I'm Sam,\" I tell him. \n\n\"Hey good ta meet cha, I'm Gary\" he says back. Well what do you know about that huh? People been calling me Gary for a while now. Now, I'm figuring that ain't no coincidence given the circumstances of our getting together this afternoon so I says as much. \n\n\"Hey Gary, you know some fellas have actually been calling me that myself for quite a while now. What do you think about that?\"\n\n\"Well Heck Sam, you ever thought of correcting them? I sure wouldn't want to catch myself up in such an identity crisis.\"\n\nFeeling bashful, I let him know I usually just let it slide. Well, that ain't no good, he tells me. Suggests maybe I should consult my birth certificate just to make extra sure who it is that I am. Right there in that very room, with Gary gazing on, I do just that. What do you freakin know folks, I was Gary all along! I coulda sworn my name was Sam, coulda just sworn it, but nope I'm a Gary through and through.\n\n\"Well I'll be damned, Sam, I mean Gary,\" I sputter in astonishment at my clone. \"If I'm Gary though, then why on Earth have people been calling me fat Sam?\"\n\n\"They been calling you fat Gary, Gary. You just been hearing Sam.\"\n\n\"Well, actually the name's Gary.\"\n\n\"That's what I said, Gary.\"\n\n\"Wait no, I meant Sam.\"\n\n\"You ain't Sam, Gary.\"\n\n\"Yes I am Sam, Gary\"\n\n\"And who am I?\"\n\n\"Gary, didn't I just say so?\"\n\n\"And I'm basically just another version of you?\"\n\n\"Sure ya are.\"\n\n\"So who are you?\"\n\n\"Sam...wait no, Gary.\"\n\n\"So you sure you ain't Sam?\"\n\n\"Nah I ain't Sam, honest. I'm Gary through and through\"\n\n\"It was great to meet you Gary.\"\n\n\nAnd that was the end of that folks. Turns out I was Gary all along. Sometimes I just think I'm Sam. Now how the heck do you like that?" ]	10
	[WP] Kool-Aid Man was the greatest burglar the world has ever known, able to break into any mansion and out of any prison. Describe to me how you finally brought him to justice.	[ "Kool-aid man. A name engrained deep in my brain, as I have been chasing the son of a bitch for years. I was caught off guard at the first headline, \"Kool-Aid Man robs local bank,\" laughing it off without much thought. Surely this is just another satirical article, the thought of the bulging pitcher of crimson red liquid bursting through a wall bellowing out \"oh yeahhhh.\" Oh yeah, fuck off Kool-Aid Man, that shit ain't funny anymore.\n\nUntil it happened to me. I made a fortune off, those off brand \"fruit drink\" products. A simple rip off idea, ridiculously profitable. I spent most of my days railing lines of cocaine off of little mirrors, (no idea why else those things exist but to snort drugs off of, if anybody knows), and sleeping with numerous prostitutes. I was getting rather irritated at the constant headlines accumulating on numerous news sites. All of them, the fakes, the legit ones, and a constant spam of those \"Kool-Aid Man reveals secret to getting away with robbing any store!\" spam emails. Seriously what is up with those? Do people really fall for that stuff? I digress.\n\nIt was well known by the Kool-Aid industry that I ripped off their product; and since mine was cheaper it sold like crazy. They tried lawsuits and even a few death threats, (under a jubilee of aliases but I knew it was them). One day I drank a pitcher of my most favorite concoction, fruit \"drank.\" Basically my powder with a shit ton of codeine and—you know the stuff.\n\nI was lounging in my sauna, buck-naked with a few women dangling under my arms when I heard a horrible sound. There was a loud crash followed by the one thing that could truly make skin crawl, \"ohhh yeah.\"\n\n\"God dammit, get off of me,\" I tossed the women to the side, \"my safe!\" I panicked realizing it was unlocked, as I had gone on a bender that week and spent way too much money on, well everything. I left it open for easy access, I know I am an idiot.\nI sprinted down the marble tiles of the hallway under hand carved arches lined with bronze accents, and nearly fell down the stairs draped in silky red carpet. \nUpon reaching the room of all my treasures, I saw my arch nemesis. Now he didn't realize I hated him so, since he didn't really associate with the Kool-Aid company anymore and just did his own thing. And he was struck with surprise at my dong dangling uncovered, swinging to and fro.\n\nIn his hand he clutched a canvas bag, filled to the brim with bundles of cash, jewels, and several bags of weed, (bastard took my weed.) He began to laugh, seeing I was naked and looking quite wretched. My eyes were dark and bags sagged heavily underneath. I was pale and not too fit at the moment, a bit underweight, but whatever fuck Kool-Aid man he is a pitcher of god damned Kool-Aid.\nI was infuriated at his cackling; this was my home, my money, my drugs, and I could walk about my property in any way I so pleased. So I began to charge after him, unhindered by my nakedness and leapt onto his back. He laughed at me, \"don't you know I can just burst through this wall, and be fine. You'll probably die on impact LOL.\" Yes he actually said L-O-L, seriously who does that?\n\nI knew I had to do something quick, or I would either lose my money, my life, or both. So I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed the lip of his pitcher body, tipped myself over the edge, and I drank that Kool-Aid. It tasted less like Kool-Aid and more like the blood of his enemies, but whatever. I drank and drank, gorging my belly with liquid. I was extremely dehydrated from all the drug use so it was actually not bad. When I could not hold in more liquid, I turned to the side and vomited it all over the floor. More like projected it violently like a geyser from my mouth. I did this multiple times, Kool-Aid man screamed in agony, his life force weakening. He knew if he tried to crash through any wall he would crack and likely shatter into hundreds of little pieces. I continued on, unable to think, only to drink. Once I reached the bottom and spewed out hundreds of gallons of the bright red liquid, he fell in anguish. His whole pitcher lay broken and empty, with his blood lying all over the floor, sopping wet and sticky as all hell. He was dead, and I had delivered justice.\n\nI never called the cops, just cleaned it up and melted the glass down into dish-ware and such. It was really strong glass, so why waste it, (also had a bong made.) The media wondered where he had gone, some speculated he had traveled to a remote area of the world, to live a lavish life with all his plunder. But I know what really happened, and now so do you." ]	1

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