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...has locked himself in a room with ways to kill himself, he tries to wait until his wife gets home to get help, but finds it hard to resist the temptations before him. (you choose the fate)
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[WP] A suicidal man who is considering his last words... (GOLD TO FAVOURITE)
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"INT. HOUSE - EVENING\n\nRACHEL walks through the house door and sets her keys in a bowl near the door. She is carrying a pizza, balancing it with one hand. She slips off her shoes and walks through the living room.\n\n RACHEL\nHeath? You home? I have dinner.\n\nRachel walks through the living room, peaking at each room. She walks towards the dining room and sets the pizza on the dining table. Suddenly, a small bump is heard upstairs. She walks up the stairs and sees the bedroom door cracked. She walks through the bedroom door.\n\n RACHEL\nHeath? Are you there? Pizza's getting co....\n\nRachel sees a small piece of paper on the bed. She walks to the bed and looks at the paper.\n\n\"Went to be with our son. Please don't come with me.\"\n\nRachel hears a bump behind her and turns around. Heath's body bumps the door. Heath's body is hanging by his neck with rope behind the door. Rachel drops the piece of paper.\n\nEnd.",
"Damnit! I should just take the pills. No, that would be too slow, and there is too large a risk of failure. I think my best option would be to jump out the window. I am, after all, 20 stories above ground level. Damn it's so tempting. I could just jump, and fall, straight from the top of this building into the depths of hell.\n\nI'd never have to see her in pain again. My death may cause her pain but it will eventually free her. Gah! I'll leave her a note. No! She can get me out of this. She always does. My precious Maria. She's the only person who has made life worth living, and yet, her once jovial spirit has taken a turn for the worse ever since I realized how futile and utterly stupid my waste of a life has been.\n\nStill, she deserves a note. What should I tell her? That I love her? No, she already knows that. That she's beautiful? She may not know that, but telling her one more time won't make her believe it any more. There's only one thing that I may write that will bring peace to her.\n\n\"Dear Maria,\n\nI'm sorry. I know you may still love me, but I believe that in reality, you think of me as a burden. Well, you no longer have to drag me along with you everywhere you go like a child with no ability to care for itself. I hope you find new happiness now that you no longer have to take care of the mental stability of two people.\"\n\nAlright. Time to pry this window open. I don't remember it being this heavy. There! Okay. On the count of three.\n\nOne.\n\nTwo.\n\n*Gulp*. Three!\n\n*Knock Knock*",
"The tiles were cold under his calves as he sat on the bathroom floor. \n\nAs he stared at the assortment of knives, pills, bottles and rope scattered around him, he felt numb. His fingers were heavy as his arms sagged and hands lay on the dirty floor. He felt he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs and every breath was laboured and long, setting his heart racing.\n\nEyes dull, he turned his gaze to the scrap of paper he had brought in with him, and the pen with which he had intended to write his last words. Last words, he wondered, through the haze of depression and anger. As if I ever had any words worth writing. As if I ever… \n\nHe didn’t even bother finishing the thought. Worthless, he told himself. Useless, just a thing that takes up space and food and drink that would be better given to someone else. Someone good. Decent. Someone who would leave beauty and love in their wake, not misery and filth.\n\nThe slats of the blinds threw shadows upon him, stripes of dark and light on his legs, and creeping slowly up his torso. Soon, his wife would be home. His wife. He closed his eyes as he thought of her. A saint, an ever-loving, ever-patient woman who ought to welcome his passing. \n\nBut she wouldn’t. He opened his eyes and gazed at the razor. If she were here now, she would plead with him, cry at him, beg him to consider. Her warm hands, she’d lay them on his face and smooth back his messy hair. Reaching, he took up the razor in his trembling hands and tested the blade on his thumb. Blood kissed the blade greedily, and he watched the colour trickle down the white of his hand.\n\n“I’m sorry.”\n\nIt seemed a stupid thing to say. If he were truly sorry, he wouldn’t have done it, would he?\n\n“Forgive me.”\n\nHe remembered a quote, in the hazy depths of his memory; better to ask forgiveness than ask permission. She would forgive him. Eventually, after years of wondering why, and wondering what she could have done better for him, she would forgive him. He didn’t need to ask.\n\n“Even with your love, your wonderful, amazing, selfless love, the world was too painful a place for me. Too callous, too real, too rough. Each time I fell, you raised me again. Each time I cried, you kissed the tears away. I love you. I love how hard you tried but I am not strong enough. My heart is too broken, my soul is too shattered. This is the only way I can get through this. This is the only way out for me. Don’t cry too long.”\n\nThe razor seemed to leap in his cold hands, diving deep into the skin at his wrists, eagerly into the flesh of his throat. He thought, as his life ebbed, and his world grew dark; how warm the blood is!\n",
"Once more he picks up the syringe and holds it in his hand, observing the tiny amount of brownish liquid inside. Once more he feels the urge to pull the light blue plastic guarding the needle and to stop the suffering, to end his pain for once and for all. \n\n‘She will be here soon’ he tells himself ‘she’ll be here’. He is uncertain how much longer he can wait, how much longer he can last. ‘Please come’ he whispers inaudibly.\n\nHe studies the syringe in his palm. He never liked the sound of his own breath but it is all he can hear as his eyes lose their focus on the needle and thoughts flood his brain yet gain: Her, the way she used to look at him; smile at him; laugh with him; then the pain and incredulity radiating from her eyes, the shock etched in her face when he had told her; the immediate and overwhelming futility to try and explain; and the way she had looked at him ever since that day. \n\nThe sound of the front door falling into its lock tears him out of his thoughts. ‘She’s here’ he whispers to himself as the faintest of smiles crosses his lips, ‘She’s finally here’. The floorboards mark her every step towards the bedroom and staring at the door he only remembers that it is locked as she presses the handle. Slowly he walks to the door, turns the key and opens the door. \n\nFor a short moment they stare in each other’s eyes. Wordless he moves his arm towards her and, noticing but ignoring her slight flinch, he passes the syringe into her hand. \n\n‘I am ready.’\n",
"\"Daddy, you're my hero\" \nHe misses those words as they flow in and out of his mind- lacking his daughter's smooth southern drawl. He aches for her- aches for Andrew, too. \nSitting alone in his studio apartment he thinks about what things would be like had he not been drafted back in the 70's. He thinks of his daughters screams and how she held his hand all the way to the terminal. How she wouldn't let go even then. She was only 4 years old then.\n\n\"Daddy, you're my hero.\"\n\"You're my hero, Daddy.\" \n\"Daddy\"\n\"Hero\"\n\nThe words force themselves into every broken fissure, every darkened crevice of his mind. He went into the war expecting to return with post-traumatic stress disorder. He never thought the thing to haunt him would be his own daughters' voice. \n\nHe walks to his kitchen, her words still barricading themselves into his mind. I can't do this, I'm nobody's hero. I'm not a hero. I'm not a hero. He's screaming now: \"I'm not a hero\" His neighbors are sleeping by now, but shit, he doesn't owe them anything. He's not their hero.\n\nHe pulls out the knife, tests its' blade on his fingertip, lets the blood drip down, down, down. Feels his heart rate slowing down, down, down. Picks up the blade, presses down, down, down. Harder. Again. And again.\n\nHe reaches for a pen and a paper from his notebook and begins to write:\n\" Dear Janie, \nMy how the years have passed. I often find myself wondering what you must look like now. Are your eyes still caramel melted butter, sweet? Do you still have that Georgia peach voice, smooth like molasses? Are you happy? Is Andrew happy? \nI guess the real reason I'm writing this is because i want you to know the truth. I want you to know what really happened. I want you to know that i didn't just pick up and leave. I didn't abandon you. \nThe day i left for Vietnam was the day your father decided enough was enough. We had been having problems before, but nothing i didn't think we could work out. He packed you two up and went westbound to some town I've never heard up. He left, and took you with him. It took me years to find you guys, and by then Andrew, your father, had found someone else. Said because we weren't married it didn't mean anything. Said he was more of a father to you then i ever could be. And i know I'm not your hero, but Janie, I love you. And that's all I've ever wanted you to know.\"\n\nHe puts down his pen, and for once in his life, lets go. \n"
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[WP] "Who are those guys?" "They are who some call The Mariachis of Death."
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"My band had been doing well lately, though I personally had doubts about the success of our upcoming album. We had just signed a deal with a small hardcore/punk label based outside Chicago, and to create hype about the new record, we were instructed to hit the road for a long time.\n\nAs a small punk band, this usually means playing any and every show available, no matter where, with who, or for how much. We often went days without washing and surviving on only a humble diet of water, ramen noodles, and cheap shitty booze.\n\nWe were touring with a fairly technical metal band who drew pretty decent crowds. Being outside our elemental genre, we stuck out like a sore thumb. Or at least so I thought.\n\nOne night, playing the basement of a bar quite literally in the middle of nowhere, to a crowd of about 50 people (like I said... decent), I was audibly assaulted by a collection of sounds that were completely foreign to me.\n\nThere was the usual gutteral screaming, accompanied by drop tuned guitars and fast doubal-kick petal drumming, but layered on top of that, was a melody of latino nature played on nylon stringed guitars. There was the distinct \"ch ch ch\" sounds of maracacas, and the back up vocals singing in... spanish?\n\nWhat the absolute fuck?\n\nI turned to see the group who no doubt invented a genre of music all on their own, and found their appearence to be as weird as their sound.\n\nThey had the average skinny jeans and band t-shirts combinations, but they were wearing the death-face paint of a Norwegian black metal band. Their long black hair fell down to their guitar necks, sometimes getting in the way of the picking fingers focussing on the nylon guitars. \n\nBut on top of this hair lay wide-brim sombreros! Several of them had skulls and spanish swear words painted on them, and others were tattered beyond repair.\n\nAll members of this bizarre mexican spectacle stared straight ahead. None of them seemed to reveal any kind of the emotions often related through these types of musics.\n\nYou see and hear weird shit in this music scene, but this was the strangest thing I'd ever experienced.\n\n\"Who are those guys?\", I asked my tour manager as the band concluded their set.\n\n\"They are who some call The Mariachis of Death... They'll never get anywhere... C'mon lets go get drunk.\"",
"Carlos huddled in the relative safety of the darkness inside his home with his Mamá and Papá. The old church in the center of his village was engulfed in roaring flame, bathing his village in red flickering light and long shadows. The night had been filled with screams and gunshots. Carlos had known the sounds since he was a little niño, caused by the rough men who had always been a part of the small village in the mountains of Chiapas. They came when they wanted, did what they wanted. One night last year his Mamá had come home, bloody, with bruises on her face and a torn dress, crying. Even at his age, Carlos knew what had happened, everyone did. There was nothing to be done - any who opposed were silenced with a scream and a bang and never heard from again. All to secure an easy route to ship the gringos their yayo. This was the life Carlos knew.\n\nBut tonight was filled with the screams, the gunshots, the explosions. Carlos had run home through rivers of blood, seen the rough men dead in the streets. He closed his eyes most of the way, letting his memory of the village carry him back. He had heard begging in the darkness. Strong men whimpering in fear, bargaining for their lives. Choking out their last breaths in a report of bursting gunpowder. And occasionally, he thought he had heard brief snatches of the slow mournful strumming of a guitar.\n\nOne man stumbled out of the church, half burnt, choking, dirty. Him he had recognized - Hector Espinoza. Hector the Barracuda. The leader of the cartel in charge. Carlos had been forced to bear witness with the rest of the village as Espinoza had the former mayor whipped to death in front of them for the tiniest of slights. He looked so confident then. Now this big man's face was twisted in horror as he crawled backwards from the figures emerging from the burning church.\n\nCarlos, peeking through a window, only saw them in profile - shadows against the flames of the church. Tall men, six of them, wearing sombreros. Sashes on their sides, fluttering in the breeze. Each man had an instrument slung across his back - guitars, horns. One had a fiddle in a case he was carrying. He stepped forward, a sawed-off shotgun in his other hand.\n\n\"Please, señors!\" Carlos barely heard the words over the roaring flames. \"I can give you money! I can give you women! I can give you an empire! Please recon...\"\n\nThe man with the fiddle raised his shotgun and blew Espinoza's head clean off without a word. The six men looked at each other, then turned and walked down a nearby alley, cloaked in shadow in the firelight.\n\n\"Papá?\" Carlos looked at his father, who was also similarly enraptured with the scene. \"Who are they? Who are those guys?\"\n\nCarlos' father turned from the violence for a moment. \"They are who some call The Mariachis of Death. None know where they come from. All who have ever seen them have only seen them in flame and blood. They leave behind a field of death, but like the ants who clear away the rot and the choking weeds they leave room for life to grow. I think... I think the bad times are over. For now, Carlos, they are over.\"\n\nThey turned back to the flames."
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Now we all know alligators and crocodiles are awesome. But we know as well that caimans are not cool, and are the worst thing to enter the crocodilian family of all time.
But why do we as alligators, or crocodiles, hate caimans so much? I'm hoping we can all find out today. Eagerly awaiting your responses.
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[WP] You're an alligator or a crocodile(No Caimans). Describe why you hate those damned Caimans.
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"\"Because they hate puppies\"\n\n\"I'm serious, Frank, I want a serious answer\"\n\n\"Because they hate FREEDOM!!\"\n\n\"Stop it Frank\"\n\n\"Alright, alright... because a Caiman touched my junk when I was a baby-gator... it feels so good to get that off my chest!!\"\n\n\"Frank!! Grow up. That's not funny!\"\n\n\"Oh alright calm down. Look, Caimans are just. Well they're just dirty. And untrustworthy. Have you seen the crime rates in Caiman areas? I mean Caim-on...\"\n\n\"Well that's because they've had a lot of disadvantages! We force them to live in poor areas, they have worse schools, they struggle to get jobs, of course some of them turn to crime!\"\n\n\"Oh don't give me that liberal crap. They don't have our values and they make me nervous. I'm not saying that they're necessarily bad *because* they're born Caimans. I'm saying that statistically, they're more likely to knock you out, steal your shoes, and probably have their way with you for good measure. These are facts.\"\n\n\"Oh you're a pig. I don't know why I even go out with you.\"\n\n\"Oh relax. We're nearly at the drive through window. I think I saw a Caiman serving the food. If he isn't wearing gloves, we're out of here.\"\n\n\"You're such a dick\" ",
"Those damn caimans. Hate them. Hate hate hate them! Yeah I know what you're gonna say, \"How can you hate caimans? They're your cousins! You look practically the same!\" Well SCREW YOU. I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A CAIMAN. Seriously, could you think of anything *more* insulting to say? \n\n[This is me](http://planetpedia.in/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/ALLIGATOR.jpg) and [THIS is one of those no good caimans](http://crocodilian.com/cnhc/images/!potm-apr08.jpg). WE DO NOT LOOK THE SAME. Shit, I think I mixed the pictures up. No wait, it's good. I didn't. ANYWAY.\n\nIf you're wondering why I hate those stupid scaly posers, I'll tell you! It's because idiots like *you* are always calling me a caiman because I'm a bit small for an alligator. SCREW YOU. I AM AN *ALLIGATOR*. HOW RACIST CAN YOU GET? GOD I AM SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW. FUCK CAIMANS. \n\nWait, WAIT. Hold on. I know what you're doing. I'm onto you, you sneaky little shit. You're a caiman, aren't you? You're just trying to get a rise out of me so you can have a laugh with all your stupid little caiman buddies, *aren't you?* WELL IT'S NOT WORKING. I AM SO UNBELIEVABLY CALM RIGHT NOW. TAKE THAT, YOU WANNABE CROCADILIAN. NO WAIT, IN FACT YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T WANNA PRETEND ANY MORE. I AM FURIOUS! \n\nCOME HERE AND LET ME BITE YOU IN HALF, FUCKHEAD."
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[WP] A 500 year old man is on his deathbed, write the last story he tells his loved ones.
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"I saw the rise and fall of many great civilizations, peoples, and religions. Humans. A human is simultaneously the devil and a saint. Humans have fomented unspeakable evils. Humans have lead themselves to great scientific achievement. To peace. To prosperity. And to wealth. I saw the rise of Enlightenment. The rise of empires. And I saw the deaths of countless men. History is not bound to repeat itself. History DOES repeat itself. Land skirmishes. Deaths-mine soon to be included-. The infamous Blitzkrieg. The liberations of oppressed peoples. Half a millennium worth of events. I will be wrapping the door any minute now. My existent or nonexistent soul will be floating away into the heavens. And one may ask, how was your life? And to whomever is interested, I say this: fucking amazing. "
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Either you can choose how and why this conversation might occur, or you can leave that out.
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[WP] Write a sincere conversation between you and one of your actual ancestors. This conversation cannot affect the past, present, or future (i.e., no instructions to assassinate Hitler or make your family rich).
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"It was the second day of my annual visit to my dad's farm. We were ending our night with our ritual of a few games of cribbage. We were playing on the board my great grandfather had made, and my dad was once again telling me the story of the history of the board. We finished up the last game and I went off to the guest bedroom to get some sleep. \n\nI began to drift off to sleep with memories of the savage beating I'd taken, counting the 15s in my head. I don't remember exactly when I'd fallen asleep, but I was dreaming, but it felt more real than that. I was sitting at the same table I was just at with my dad, playing cribbage on the same board we were just playing on, but with a man that I'd only ever seen pictures of. \n\n\"Grandpa Frank?\" I asked. \n\n\"That's right, now cut the cards.\" He said, pointing at the deck.\n\n\"Dad always said you were impatient when you guys played.\"\n\nI lifted the deck, and he cut a jack. Damn! the last two points he needed to beat me. \n\nWe set the board aside.\n\n\"Grandpa Frank! I can't believe it's really you. My dad has told me so much about you.\"\n\n\"I know, I check in on you guys every now and then. Make sure the family is doing good.\" His features softened now that the card game was over. \n\n\"I've always wanted to meet you.\" I couldn't think of anything else to say. It felt awkward. \n\n\"I know, I heard you tell your dad that tonight. seven games of cribbage and you didn't win one. Make it eight.\" He smiled and leaned back in his chair. \"Your dad could never beat me either.\"\n\nThe dream began to fade as the shriek of the alarm clock brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes, and turned on the table lamp. There on the table sat a pair of well worn brass crib pegs, just like the ones from my dads cribbage board. ",
"The last thing I remember was my view of the water violently rushing towards me. The glass immediately giving way as my car crashed into the water, rendering me unconscious. \n\nI awoke in a room painted completely white. It was so completely white I could not even see a door. I continued to look for some sign of where I was until I saw him. \n\nMy great-grandfather, Lester, looked younger then I last remembered him. I couldn't help but think of the amount of time I had spent at his headstone talking to him. Even though I knew he couldn't respond to me. I walked over to him and took a seat. We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Although in this room there was no concept of time.\n\nI was finally able to choke some words out after a long length of silence. \"Where am I?\" I muttered. \"Where.. Where are we?\"\n\n\"All in good time, my son.\" He answered me with a kind of unforced smile, \"Walk with me, we have much to talk about. It's been at least 20 years since we've seen each other.\"\n\n\"Tell me boy, was the world all you imagined it would be? Was your life?\" He asked genuinely. \"You will not be able to go back now. Your old life is done. Look at this like a new chapter. Welcome to Purgatory, my boy.\"",
"\t\n\n I sat down at the end of a long metal table. The chair scraped uncomfortably loud as I scooted myself as close to the table as I could get. I was waiting for someone. They didn't tell me who would greet me in this place. I still had no idea if it was heaven, hell or something altogether different. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, looking to rid myself of the moisture that confessed my anxiety. I had so many questions. Where am I? What's going on? Who are all these people? I shook my head and beat a quick rhythm on the table with my fingers, anything to expel the nerves and calm me. A door swung open and I looked up hungry for answers. Blue eyes stared back at me, the same shape as my own. She had an upturned nose and high cheekbones but her lips, her lips and her eyes were how I knew. This was my grandmother, Patricia. I had never met her. \n\nShe sat down across from me and tucked her legs neatly to the side. The eyes that I knew so well had no evidence of wrinkles, no sign of age. Her hair was even the same shade of light brown. It was if she had walked right out of the picture my mom kept above the fireplace.\n“Why?”\n“Why what, dear?” She answered, her eyes sadly searching mine. \n“You know what. You know exactly what!” My hands had clenched into fists and I pounded them on table. Of course she knew what! She ruined everything. Everything that had been bad in my childhood could be tied to her and what she did to my mother. \n“Why I left?” She asked quietly, hushed by my outburst. “Left? Leaving is when you walk away and never come back. You did more than leave. You put a .38 in your mouth and blew your head out in front of your daughter!” I crossed my arms and glared at her. “Grandfather put her and Deb up for foster care two weeks after your funeral. They were there for three years before he found a new wife to take care of them. Do you know what that did to her? Do you know what kind of repercussions landed in my lap because YOU couldn't live another day?” My mom ran away and got married at nineteen. She had to move out of the South to escape her family and even still the stains marked her every day life. Screaming, yelling and physical violence had peppered my entire childhood. If my grandmother had lived just long enough to see her daughter into college my life would be different. \n“So answer me! Why? Why did you do it?” I was angry, furious that this small woman had caused so much damage in my life. Her one act of selfishness led to a miasma of pain for her whole family. My family. \nI shook with the thought of it. How could anyone be so heartless?\n\t\nMy grandmother stayed quiet for quite some time. I could see she was trying to compose herself, grasping at what to say that would soothe my anger. She finally sighed. “I couldn't take the voices anymore.” Her head hung in shame, hands quietly folded in her lap. “There is no way to describe it. Everything around me was real and yet, not real. I couldn't trust myself. I tried to find ways help it, even saw one of those voodoo women in New Orleans, hopin' and prayin' that anyone with a trickle of power could help me. I couldn't be trusted dear. I did terrible things. I once left your mother and her sister with the babysitter and when I came home...” her voice caught in her throat, choking out the end of the sentence. “I found the girls locked in the closet. I was gone for hours and I left them there. Your mother was only two.” Tears were running silently down her face. I had no words. Schizophrenia. That was what she was describing. A mental illness that warped reality for the poor soul that had the bad luck to be born with it. My heart froze in my chest. It was hereditary. \n\t\nIt explained so much! My mother thought she had conversations with God. Oh my poor mother. Her life had been so miserable and now this? Or maybe it skipped a generation. Catie maybe? I walked in on her with a belt around her neck when I was twelve. I just thought she was being emotional because she found out Kyle Leager had cheated on her. Or was it Anna? God, she was only twenty! Already she had thick white scars on her arms and thighs, reminders of the life we had all gone through. My grandmother searched my face, looking for some indication that I had heard her. That I had understood. “I'm sorry Lizzie. Really, I am. Tell my Becky I love her. Tell her I'm sorry.” Her own chair scraped back as she stood, her eyes running over my face as to lock in every feature. “I'll come back as soon as I can dear. I'll try my best to get here quick. I have a funny story about your mom and her sister and the snake they brought home. I love you Lizzie, I love you all.”\n\nI could only stare as she made to the door, she looked at me one last time and gave a half smile before disappearing behind it. It was only until she was gone that I remembered I had other questions. Where am I? What's going on? Why was there a spoon in my hand? I looked down and found a half eaten pudding cup on the table in front of me. A hand came down softly on my shoulder, the man was wearing a white outfit, his smile looked strained. “Time for your medication Ms. Banks. If you take this without any fuss I'll let you pick what channel we watch during rec time tomorrow.” I grinned like fool. \nAnimal Planet was my favorite. "
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[WP] Tell me how freedom dies.
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"Freedom dies slowly, and without a sound.\n\nIt dies passively, apathetically, with its eyes glued to a high definition big screen. \n\nIt dies, sugary soft drink in hand as it posts political memes on facebook.\n\n\"We should change this,\" it says. \"We should do something.\"\n\nBut its phone is used to snap photos of food instead of to call a congressman.\n\nIts body sits ranting at the television instead of marching on the capitol.\n\nIt dies when it becomes complacent, always believing it cannot make a difference; that someone else will do it.\n\nFreedom dies with each soldier who comes home to a world that won't feed it, house it. Disabled and destitute, it sits on corners with cardboard signs, begging for a little change.\n\nIt dies when that change is spent not to feed it or house it for the night, but to buy a drink that soothes a damaged soul.\n\nFreedom dies a little with the loss of each small liberty we barely notice. With taxes from a government that no longer understands the needs of people half a continent away. \n\nFreedom dies in the same way it was born - in the souls of the men who want it so badly. Or not badly enough.\n\nFreedom dies with the posting of this story, because when it is posted, it will still sit, in this chair, at this desk, remembering what it once was.\n\nBut now.\n\nNow, freedom is too tired to save itself.\n\nFreedom is dying.\n\n---\n####\n\nnew year's challenge: \n\n-063",
"The office was sparsely furnished, with a desk and a chair. It was lit only by the sunlight passing through the windows, throwing parts of the desk into shadow- Letters, neatly organised notes- All pertaining to the business of the sharply dressed man sitting in the chair behind it.\n\nHis secretary knocked on the door, and, having verified that he was alone, entered the room and put in front of him his cup of tea, along with a letter. The post was late, she said, because of an unfortunate accident with the lift. \nThe tea went on a small mat in the corner of his desk, next to the telephone.\n\nHe reached into a drawer and pulled out a letter-opener, and had just begun to cut the envelope open when another person knocked on the door. He slid the envelope under a meaningless document about his party's yearly anti-corruption investigation(All written before the \"Investigation\" had even begun) and let his guest in.\n\n\t\"Ah, Ms Andrews. And what can I do for you today?\"\nThe woman stepped through the door. He always knew who was coming into his office and for what purpose. He had a plan and he stuck to it. This appointment was listed as being about the party's use of paper and so it was, in fact, about a certain law that needed passing.\n\n\t\"I have come to see you about the bill I requested.\"\n\nShe placed the paper on his desk.\n\n\t\"And when will you want it passed?\" \n\n\t\"Before the end of this quarter, and as soon as possible.\"\n\n\t\"I shall have it passed on the fifteenth. And all the expenses will be paid?\"\n\nMoney for bribes didn't come from nowhere, and it was common practice for an organization to request a person high up to do the legwork for them.\n\n\t\"With Five-hundred thousand as a bonus.\"\n\nHe smiled. This was turning out to be a good day after all, and he only had to move around some money...\n\n*A/n: Is the discussion too vague?",
"'Just sign it. We know you aren't getting out of here without signing it.' The interrogator was the perfect man for the job. Average height, average build, average suit, average voice. A plethora of extraordinarily aligned mediocrity that culminated in the most forgettable face. Even with fear coursing a cocktail of pheromones through the detainee's bloodstream it was hard to remember the face until it once more breached the weak light that struggled against the oppressive blackness of the room.\n\n'Your so called protests end today. Your location was given up by those within your terrorist cell masquerading as a political party. No more riots, no more bombs and no more political killings.'\n\nThe hands of the detainee clenched, showing white knuckles against the chromed handcuffs and steel chair.\n\n'We did none of those things.' the voice came out slurred, attempting to gain form against a bloated, swollen lip, 'It was you and your oppressive government implicating us so that you could brand us as terrorists. It didn't work, remember?! We gained traction against the fascist that sits on the Seat of the Chancellor and all his fawning sycophants. We gained support, we showed to fear and violence were no ways to control a population. So you bombed and murdered and even raped your way to a moral high-ground. You bastards.'\n\nThere was a silence for a time. An crescendo of silence after the detainee spoke that seemed to dance with the darkness of the cell.\n\n'Oh, detainee. That's what we call you now, by the way, you haven't been sentenced but you've been charged. We took your name. You accuse the government of these vile acts, some of which are treason. How naughty of you.' the plain lips curled into a sneer.\n\n'For WHAT?!' cried the detainee, 'For telling the truth?!'\n\n'Yes. Detainee. For telling *the* truth. Not *our* truth.'\n\nThe man strapped to the chair stopped. All vigour draining away under the flat grey eyes of the grey suited man. He began to weep, knowing that this was as far as it will ever go.\n\n'We just wanted to be free.' sobbed the detainee, 'We just wanted to go about our lives.'\n\n'I know. Truly, I do. But, you didn't go about it in the *right way*. That's what's important. Now, you and your party members will pay the price. Every. Single. One.' said the grey man. He merely said it, as if it were an indisputable fact. 'Unless, you sign the paper. I know you haven't read it so allow me to paraphrase. You will sign it to take responsibility for everything, the murder, the rape, the bombs, and maybe of a couple of other things that I can think of when I'm having my coffee. It will declare that these actions were done under the guidance of your party, thereby disbanding it, never to reform. It's very generous.'\n\n'What do I get?' the detainee sputtered hopelessly.\n\n'Aside from executed? Nothing. Your party members, however, will get to live out their days in the safety of a working camp. Never to be seen or heard of again. They will, however, be alive.'\n\n'You're a liar.' spat the detainee, 'All you do is lie.'\n\n'Noooooo. No. No. No.' the grey man sighed, 'I don't lie. That is another persons job. I deal in truths. Always. You are going to die, that is truth. You can stop others from meeting the same fate, that is truth and it is that paper that will make it a reality. That is truth.'\n\nIf there were another avenue to go down, it did not present itself to the detainee. The world would have no choice but to live under the powers that be. Living under the fear of beatings, inspections, and corruption. The detainee resigned himself and sat in the thick silence for a while. The last part of peace that he, maybe anyone, would ever have again.\n\n'Will you sign it?' Once more the plain voice sliced through the quiet, the detainee smiled at just how perfect this man was for his job. At least some part of the government is efficient, he had got what he needed to get.\n\n'I will. Uncuff me and hand me a pen.'\n\nThe man lifted himself to his mean height and came round to the other side of the table. It was no surprise that he did not need to ask which hand to unshackle. The feelers of the Chancellor could discover the manner in which you opened an evelope. He passed the detainee a fountain pen, silver case, silver nib, black ink. The detainee didn't even read it, he had no need, it would all end the same way. \n\nHe signed it with a flourish.\n\n'I never thought I'd see the end of all this in a dark room.'\n\n'We never do, prisoner. We never do.'",
"I grew up with Freedom.\n\nFreedom had always been part of me. We became superheroes together, saved princesses together, fought monsters together. Freedom was my only friend, and I spent all my time with Freedom.\n\nThe grown-ups told me I shouldn't spend so much time with Freedom. \"It's time to grow up!\" they said. \"You will grow out of it one day.\" But I never did, not until they made me. \"Grow up!\" They would shout. \"You cannot think this way all the time!\"\n\nSo I did, and I killed Freedom.\n\nNow I am a grown-up, and I am lost. I have no dreams, no fantasies, no more second life. I cannot think my own way, I can only be grown-up.\n\n*Why did I have to let my Freedom die?*"
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A Rudyard Kipling quote. He said it, you write it... however you like.
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[WP] Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind...
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"In the picture clay shards litter the floor of the cave. Now they are in a different form, the broken pieces are rearranged into tablets. We file by the showcase with orders to keep quite, a thick piece of glass separates us from the artifacts. \n\nThe teachers seem interested, but it is really just a mess of little marks that you can't make out anyway. Thank god we have a thirty minute break after this exhibit. \n\nAt lunch I eat my sandwich. Tom and I play a game on his phone and then I open safari to check my facebook. Also I see that new DLC for Titan Fall is coming out, but our break ends before the discussion thread loads fully. Its sucks that school makes us walk around to every exhibit. Why do they even care? I wish I could just sit here a little longer and read IGN. \n \n\n\n\n ",
"The booths at the Lakeview Diner are fading and cracked, they were probably new in the 60's like everything else here. The counters are clean linoleum, but nicked from years of use. The chrome seats are polished to a brilliant shine, even the seat at the end of the counter which has a sign on it that reads \"broken\". The seat looks fine to me, but I've never felt the need to call the sign's bluff and sit down.\n\n\nI order the same thing every time I eat at the Lakeview - a Denver Omelette with coffee and orange juice, and Lisa brings it to my booth every time. I've never been able to figure out what onions, peppers and ham have to do with Denver, or even with Colorado. It's one of those things you accept about the world - not everything is going to make sense. If you put onions, peppers and ham in a quesadilla is it a Denver Quesadilla? Probably not. I'm eating my Denver omelette in the Lakeview Diner about 20 miles from the nearest lake, so I guess words don't always mean as much as you think they do.\n\n\nI've been coming here every Saturday for about six months trying to hold onto some kind of normalcy in my life. I graduated from a moderately prestigious college in a moderately sized city in a moderately sized state. Now I work for a company that sends me around the country to other mid sized American cities. Have you ever seen that George Clooney movie Up in the Air? His character moves through life in a dream, latching on to frequent flier programs and the solitude you only find in an airport with 10,000 other people who don't know your name. It's a lot more like that than you think to be on the road all the time, except I'm not that handsome. The first time I woke up in my own apartment and was confused I wasn't in a hotel room, I knew I was in trouble.\n\n\nAfter I started the job, I broke up with the girl I dated in college because she didn't seem real anymore. How can anything seem real when you never spend your own money, do your own laundry, or sleep in your own bed for more than two days in a row? I would talk to her on the phone from my hotel room, lying on my back on the bed, and she sounded worried, \"You sound distant, is something wrong?\".\n\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\nI couldn't even come up with the energy to reassure her. During a particularly long trip away, with a particularly bad phone connection, she tells me she's excited that I'll be home soon.\n\n \"It'll be so much better when you get back!\" she says with confidence, but I can hear the shred of a question mark. \"Will it?\" I ask back. \n\nWe break up. She's right, it would have been better.\n\nSo now there's no anchor to the real world. Just the planes and hotels. I come back late on Friday night, go to sleep, wake up and come to the Lakeview. For a little routine and a lot of coffee. That's why I started coming, anyway, but now I come for Lisa. She's one of those girls who totally changes what a name means for you. Black hair, green eyes, a smile of total devastation. Now when I hear the name Lisa I feel a little thrill, hoping it might be her even when I'm a thousand miles from the Lakeview. When I daydream and invent imaginary women I will meet and fall in love with, they used to be called things like Jessica or Kristen or Kate. But now, one is named Lisa.\n\nMy dad would mock me if he knew I had a crush on a waitress like this. \"Never trust a woman in the service industry\" he would say, already smiling at his own insight and turn of phrase. He's right though, how can you trust a smile from a girl working for tips? It's different with Lisa though, or at least that's what I tell myself.\n\n It's the notes I really come for, not the smile. Lisa writes little notes on my receipts from our conversations over my breakfast, like: \"Have fun in Milwaukee!\" or \"See you after Tallahassee!\" or from the first receipt, \"Come back next week! :)\". I have a little stack of her receipts in my wallet and sometimes when I'm sitting at the big windows at DCA or waiting for my flight at a tiny bagel shop in ICT I flip through the receipts and try to figure Lisa out.\n\nSo I come back, every week, hoping that this is the week Lisa leaves her number instead of just a note. I read an article once that writing a personalized note on each receipt increases a server's tips by 10%. Maybe Lisa saw the same article. I hope not."
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I love the environment, and I see news everyday of environmental destruction that makes me feel so angry and sad and helpless. Sometimes I wonder what drastic measures someone would take to protect something they care about, and I was wondering what your take on it was! Thanks!
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[WP] You are an environmental extremist. Write a story of a 'terrorist attack' and justify it.
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"\"You had everything going for you, man.\"\n\nHe was standing behind his chair, hands on its back.\n\n\"Why did you do it?\"\n\nThe room almost drowned in the silence.\n\n\"Come on. You've gotta talk.\"\n\nI could spot the marks the chair had left on his hand as he released it.\n\n\"Everything you've built up. You burned it down. Why?\"\n\nHe was pacing back and forth now.\n\n\"All your life savings: gone.\"\n\nHe reached one side of the room.\n\n\"All your investments: gone.\"\n\nHe reached the other side.\n\n\"Your company: gone.\"\n\nBack and forth.\n\n\"Your stocks: gone.\"\n\n\"Your freedom: gone.\"\n\n\"All of those innocent lives...\"\n\nHe came to a halt behind his chair.\n\n\"Gone. Fucking gone.\"\n\nHe sat down in his chair and started looking through a file. My name was printed everywhere on it.\n\n\"Great grades. Great job. Great future... well, great past, now.\"\n\nHe flipped a page.\n\n\"You started your own company.\"\n\nAnother page.\n\n\"Rich and famous. Huge media coverage for your opposition against renewable energy.\"\n\nFlip.\n\n\"A successful lobbyist with ties everywhere in the government.\"\n\nFlip.\n\n\"Started building a new plant two years ago. You said it would revolutionize the industry.\"\n\nFlip.\n\n\"It was going to be the safest yet.\"\n\nFlip.\n\n\"And then the accident...\"\n\nNo flip. He put the papers down in front of him.\n\n\"Thousands of lives lost. And everything indicates that you are the responsible party. That you sabotaged your own project.\"\n\nHe was staring at me now, barely able to meet my eyes.\n\n\"Everybody wants you dead. You're the most hated man in the world.\"\n\nI looked at his hands.\n\n\"Everyone you've associated with, everything you've touched, no-one wants to have anything to do with it.\"\n\nThey were shaking.\n\n\"Every politician you shook hands with. Every lobbyist you invited to dinner.\"\n\nHe clenched his fists.\n\n\"Your stocks have plummeted. The push for renewable energy has never been this great.\"\n\nHis voice was shaking now.\n\n\"Everything you fought for is gone forever.\"\n\nI smiled.",
"The worlds ending. It's pretty much over anyway. And everyone knows it too, don't pretend you don't. Temperatures rising, the air unclean, and no effort to change our lifestyles.\n\n100 years from now we'll be back in the Stone Age. Life will change, people will die. The planet will be in ruins, we're the one generation who will experience the best the world ever had to offer, it will be worse for our kids, and even worse for our grand kids.\n\nSo when my kids, eating bugs and whatever the fuck they can find, ask me what I did, what I did to prevent this fucking Armageddon, I want to be able to answer. To all of you, every single one of you out there reading this, who still drive everyday and leave their air conditioner running, may god have mercy on your soul. Call me a terrorist, I don't care. The history books will think otherwise.",
"*You think you own whatever land you land on* \n\n*The earth is just a dead thing you can claim* \n\n*But I know every rock and tree and creature* \n\n*Has a life, has a spirit, has a name*\n\n\nI loved Pocohantas as a child - especially the songs! I'd sing them lustilyin front of the TV in our dusty lounge, with my little TV dinner surrounded by all my other favourite videos. There wasn't much of an audience. Momma worked two shifts; Dad had left for cigarettes long ago. But I welcomed the solitude and was quite content with the situation.\n\n\nIt gave me time to think.\n\n\nAnd somewhere in my rambles I realised the true meaning of the song. I realised the song \nis not only about arrogance and loss, but about protection as well. About caring deeply enough anout an arrogant person that their arrogance saddens you, about caring deeply enough about them to mourn the loss they would endure and wishing you could make whole their loss.\n\n\nAnd that's why I do what I do now. I care.\n\n\n*You can own the earth and still* \n\n*All you own is earth*\n\n\n\n\nI prepare to release the nano-virus. Don't worry it wont kill you - easily. You only get one half of the nano-virus. The other infects the animals of this world, lying dormant till released by their death. And if you were to be standing nearby when that happens, well then, then you would be in trouble.\n\n\nThus shall ye be separated. Thus shall ye be saved.\n\n\n\n\n\n**********\n\n\nTheres been a lot of these justify my xyz fantasy posts. I can justify little; a story deals with people and their actions not an essay on the right course of action. I can only present how others, frequently incorrectly, might justify their beliefs as they are confronted by the events of the story.",
"Sweat began to form on my brow, I didn’t bother to wipe it away as I raised my arms for another swing. I brought them down quickly and powerfully, the pickaxe crashed against the earth once again. I pulled with my arms and back to drag it out from beneath the gravel I had just driven it into. With it came a large chunk of crushed rock and dirt that had once held together the logging road where I stood on this chilly morning. The road wound through the trees and clung tight to the hill side as it followed switchback after switchback toward the summit. As it climbed higher the trees were fewer and the barren waste lands of clear cuts were many. Once, not long ago great trees had stood there towering above the land providing life to those around them and a home for those who crept below them. \n\t\n\n\nI swung the pickaxe once more into the ground and pulled on the earth with a powerful stroke, my work was done. The ditch ran perpendicular to the winding road, measuring six feet wide and stretching from hillside to cliff, cutting the road in half. It hadn’t taken me as long as expected for there had been no frost on this brisk morning. The sun began to reach me with its rays as I climbed out of my creation and moved up the road toward my second, and more important objective. \n\n\n\nI hurried as I knew they would be coming soon, grabbing my heavy pack from its hiding place as I went. I shifted the weight of the pack and braced myself under it, hunkering down for the mile or so walk ahead. \n\t\n\n\nWhen I reached the summit I counted them to be sure I would have enough, dynamite. Sure enough there were the two massive pieces of equipment, a bulldozer and a skidder. I moved up to them with a sense of urgency, I could hear the vehicles squeaking and rumbling up the road below me. I placed the dynamite as I had been instructed, in order to take out key parts of the machinery. I then connected a fuse and tied it off between the two machines, so that I could set them off at the same time. There would be about a ten second delay before they would go off. Then I heard it, the rumbling had stopped. The workers couldn’t get their big machines past my ditch, they were stuck. I sprinted down the hill to try to get a look at them. Pulling my binoculars out from my pack, I raised them to see something I had not anticipated. Two workers were in the ditch laying planks across it, as a large man in a suit crossed their makeshift bridge on foot. \n\t\n\n \n He was followed by an even fatter man, who held a clipboard and wore a hard hat that was clearly too small for him. They looked up in my direction and began to walk up the hill. This changed everything. My plan had been to blow the machines and escape down the hill before they arrived, I had nothing against the workers and I didn’t want to risk causing them any harm. The suits were however a different story. I knew I couldn’t blow it with them near it, no matter how much I hated those men, I am not a murder. How would I get my message across? \n\t\n\n \nThen before I knew it they were standing there, not fifty yards away. The fatter of the two men began to yell at me. “Get the hell off there you, god damn whack job hippie!” I didn’t respond. I was scared, but the adrenaline began to flow. The second suit spoke in a calmer tone, “You know, it is radical nut jobs like you that make a bad name for your little environmental groups.” I spoke calmly with my eyes fixed on the two men in suits, “For a long time I fought peacefully to protect this environment that I love so much, I was beaten by the police, jailed for speaking out against the destruction of our forests. I now realize what must be done.” I began to raise my voice, “Do you really think that what I believe and do is radical?” My question was meant for no one in particular, but one of the suits replied smugly. “Absolutely.” I stood up now, and raised my voice as I spoke. “I ask you this, is it more radical to attempt to save the last ten percent of old growth forest? Or to destroy the other ninety?”\n",
"All I ever really wanted was peace and to pursue electro-kinetic research. \n\n-------------\n\nA B.S ChE from University of Tennessee, Knoxville taught me to design fracturing fluids and propping agents for \"Fracking\". Who knows how much radiation that brought to the surface that got written off as Naturally Occurring Background Radiation or NOBR for short. The M.S, Engineering Management from New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology shot me straight into upper management and thinking of more effective ways to keep my assigned wells producing. Africa and Southeast Asia were prime candidates for new wells because of the loose regulations on how fluids had to be handled. The PhD, Engineering from Texas A&M landed me designing even more potent fracturing fluids and modeling drill strings. That was all about to change. \n\n--------------------\n\nIt has been nearly 18 years since I left the U.S Army or had done freelance work in Central Africa. Originally I joined to pay for school, then got involved in mercenary work to put away more cash. When Afghanistan kicked off, medics and engineers got fast-tracked into Special Forces Assessment and Selection or SFAS for short. 2 years later I was preparing the battlespace in Iraqi Kurdistan with the CIA's best SAD operators to create a distraction for the initial invasion. We had minimal casualties then, but deep down I wondered if the 12 men and women that volunteered to help me and the woman I was doing this for would live through tonight and if they did, would they be able to make it to the border before American LEO could intercept them. I had taught myself to never get attached to anything with my line of work, but the volunteers were just kids with the oldest being 23 and addicted to their, i-am-a-douche smart device. \n\n-----------------------\n\nThe organization was small, and I was disturbed by our distinct lack of COINTEL and OPSEC. When I was brought in, my first order of business was to stop all encrypted electronic communication. Anything that was operational was done old-school. Dead drops and one-time ciphers were in, onion routing and encryption were out. The NSA had listening posts all around the world, and I wasn't about to blow the last two years of my life away rotting in a prison cell. \n\n------------------------\n\nThe explosives for the operation were easy. I siphoned 55 gallons or so of sulfuric and nitric acid from work a month—just enough to be written off as product loss at the massive plant. I had the volunteers purchase the toluene with cash from various hardware stores. Fuming Sulfuric Acid, Toluene and another special ingredient yielded us approximately 4 tons of Trinitrotoluene or TNT. Most would try to make Ammonium Nitrate Fuel Oil or ANFO which is simply ammonium nitrate and diesel fuel in correct proportions and an easy high explosive to make. I chose not to go this route because reliable detonation can be hard to achieve with commercial off the shelf products and large ammonium nitrate purchases attracted too much attention. I wondered what my CO would think if he knew I was using knowledge of asymmetrical warfare to conduct an operation on U.S soil against my own countrymen or what my favorite kinetics professor from my undergrad career would think of me using things she taught me to destroy instead of create. 20/20 hindsight, she probably cared about me.\n\n------------------------\n\nThe detonators were a bit more tricky, and I used a trick from the jihadists. The primary explosive in each was a blasting cap with the energy source being a 12 V, 500 mA gel-cell battery tied in with a cellphone. Cellphones were chosen because the target was a major oil and gas conference and microwave jamming would not be present. On that same tangent, large box trucks are typically seen at this conferences lugging around equipment for each of the displays and I chose 4 to be the method of delivery. 2 volunteers drove each truck to their assigned point, armed the charges and were instructed to walk away and take their various egress routes to Mexico. The other 4 were assigned overwatch to each of the sites to observe any sort of surveillance in the off chance the operation went tits up. \n\n-----------------------------\n\nThe day of the attack, I had my volunteers place each truck at strategic locations so the blast radius of each would be enough to level the conference center. My objective was to cause the most amount of damage possible and make it very visible on an international scale. I succeeded at this. The conference center in Houston, TX was leveled. All of the Petroleum Industry executives I targeted were killed in the blast. The entire petroleum industry world wide crashed on the stock market with fuel prices dropping to below $1.00 USD stateside and the price for a barrel of crude hitting as low as $50.00 USD/bbl. None of my operators were captured or killed. Effectively, I just won the first skirmish.\n\n-----------------------------\n\nYou fine ladies and gentleman at CENTCOM and the FBI and U.S Marshals are probably trying to figure out why a decorated SF veteran would help out ecoterrorists. My motive was simple-our government and top corporations lied to us. I didn't want to go into debt to earn an education, so I joined the army. I ended up getting pushed into SF where I did many good things for the local populations and many bad things. I wanted to do nothing more but give something back to the world with my degree, but I had exhausted my financial aid and savings to move to more advanced programs. I ultimately sold out to the petroleum industry where I further served interests other than my own in the hopes that I could someday do research. I am no socialist or communist bastard, those who served with me and the the boys at Langley I freelanced for know this. Politicians, certain corporations and banks effectively stole any chance at true free will in the States. I look at kids in university and the interns at my former job who come to me for advice. I can not provide them the answers on how to effectively navigate the system currently in place, so I have opted to destroy it for their sake, but more importantly, my revenge directed towards the politicians and so called 1% that are disconnected from reality. \n\n------------------\n\nMy closing piece of advice is that when you do hunt me, you had better come with enough boots to get the job done right. You trained me and I've proven that I can skirt your security with relative ease. I have one demand- Nestle will pull out of Central and South American in the next 60 days, or another attack that is directed towards your markets will occur. \n\n--------------------\n\nIf anyone likes this I can expand/refine it, but I need to get back to work..."
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Inspired by a dream I had the other night after seeing all the violence on the news lately
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[WP] A supreme deity introduces a new rule for Planet Earth: every time an act of violence is committed, the perpetrator shrinks by a tiny fraction. Violent people gradually become tiny but there are other consequences...
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"Luckily there was a limit to how small a criminal could actually get. The cartoons were jumping all over how you should brush your teeth to dislodge any cavity crooks who might be in there stealing your enamel. As far as I could tell, this wasn't the case. A lot of shops had to tape over their keyholes at night, and most folks were installing finer screens on their doors, but that was as far as that problem went.\n\nNo, my beef with the arrangement was how big the do-gooders were getting. The volunteers down at the soup kitchen could barely fit through the doors anymore, and when they could, they'd have to punch six guys in the face to get small enough to fit back out again. The Pattersons, who were huge in the LGBT community and had adopted several children, were now huge in the Greek community. And also the Vietnamese community. And they lived on the opposite side of town.\n\nMe? I keep my head down and stick to my own business, mostly. It's a big world, I don't need it to be bigger. I've got a tiny office, I don't need it to be smaller, know what I'm saying? I'm just walking the streets, smoking my smokes, and CRUNCH--\n\nI look down at the drug dealer I must have just crushed, and the sidewalk is coming up at me at the same time. I quickly compare myself to the nearest bus shelter. \n\nShit. Another foot off. And for an accident, too!\n\nAs I scrape his residue off my shoe, I'm cussing myself out, because I'm going to have to recycle for months to fit into this suit again.",
"Who would've thought? Equal exchange makes plenty of sense. I give you two dollars for a pound of apples, if I'm lucky. If *you're* lucky I don't snatch my money back, threaten you, or recover it by force. Or, that's how it was twenty years ago.\n\nIt was funny because at first nobody really thought about what would go on outside the law. Soth made his proclamation, religions were started upon his unveiling, and people got into fights a little bit less, those that did started losing them. Then we started to see the Big Folks. Apparently, you don't just shrink, you lose a little bit of you. The good guys didn't just get taller, they got stronger, more well muscled, faster too I suppose.\n\nThey mostly stayed good, thank goodness. Otherwise I'd not be here talking to you. Some of those people who broke up fights, prevented that violence way or the other, well, they weren't doing it for the right reasons, and some of them were terrifying. Downright terrifying. I heard a story of the first Bad Guy in Chicago. The problem was that he got big, and I mean *really* big. So big he didn't have to commit violence, he just had to threaten it.\n\nAt first they responded in the usual manner to a hostage situation, the thing is, nobody was sure if they could hurt this guy, and if they did, they'd damn near lose their own life. Soth wasn't really clear about how much smaller, or what kind of violence. Boxers don't shrink, neither do little kids getting into fights, his web is a complex one. The problem here, if you haven't noticed yet is it takes a lot of violence to put down a twenty five foot (or so) man.\n\nThe other problem we had, as we learned with some of the other Bad Guys overseas, is the person, or people who caused that violence, the midging, (how we get smaller) sort of trickles back through the system. So if someone kills with a knife, well the knife maker doesn't come out too badly. On the other hand when you hit someone with surface to air missile, even just one person, it seems everyone who participated in the production, design, lots of stuff, they're effected. There have been a handful of reports about kids, somehow, being caught in that net, the causality is almost impossible to unwind.\n\nAnyway. We ended up trading the efficacy of nearly a hundred lives to stop that man. It created a lot of problems. There's less petty violence now, and some of those Good Guys are damn near super heroes. It's the Villains I worry about, or some of the Good Guys turning that way.",
"This isn't good. This is really not good. I never should have driven this way.\n\nMy wife is pregnant, at 10 cm, and minutes away from having our son. My son. Because of her mis-shapen cervix she should have never been able to birth a child. But we were lucky, it means the world to us, to me, and because of that I chose to drive through the Minikin to get to the hospital as soon as possible. And now I'm going to pay the price. \n\nIt was well after midnight, the street lamps glowed a dull yellow casting long shadows on an other wise empty two lane road.\nI didn't see it until it was too late. This area is off limits to standards like me. Their numbers aren't what's frightening, it's their speed. They run on all fours like monkeys. They travel in packs. It's terrifying.\n\nA few years ago a very strange thing happened. Every cell phone, computer, laptop, electric billboard, any digital screen suddenly showed a... a man. He was surrounded by what looked like whispy yellow energy strands, dancing behind him. His face almost seemed like that same energy somehow tamed, but only for a short while. It wasn't blurry, but you couldn't focus on any particular detail without feeling dizzy. His mouth never moved, but his voice permeated every where.\n'Sectators, your debauchery has been left without result for far too long. From this day forward, any man or woman violating the law of nature and committing an act of violence when not permitted with hence forth surrender a fourth of a cubit (about 12 cm). Either conform to the natural laws or wither into nothing'\nHis form dissolved and the energy flowed freely, and the screen vanished.\nI have never been a violent person, I have never raised my hand to strike anyone, it made really no difference to me.\nIt, however, did prompt massive religious conversions, there was more than meets the eye, there were deities, there were ultimate moral truths, they were inherent in nature, and we needed to follow them. People needed to answer those questions, who was this being? when was violence permitted? what were these laws of nature?\n\n\nBut this didn't matter to me either, not at this moment, not at this time. The truly frightening thing about those who were deformed, every part of their body shrunk proportionally, except their arms. The retained their length while the rest of the deformed withered away.\nOnce a person becomes deformed, they become lepers to society. They are driven out, into the Minikin, where they all live in a tribal society. \n\nThey must have seen me coming. They laid a trap in the road. It looked like a large bottle in a bear trap. I tried to swerve but the trap closed, sending glass shards everywhere, piercing my back tire on my passenger side.\n\nI stopped my car in the middle of the road, and got out. I stood their for a moment, listening. I heard nothing, I needed to install my spare tire as quickly as possible. I quietly opened my trunk and removed my jack and spare tire. Working quickly I began jacking up the car. Then I heard them.\nThey were everywhere. Crawling over fences, coming out of the sewers, dropping out of trees. In a matter of seconds I was in the center of a circle, and they all stood there. Their noses where the same size as a standard. It seemed huge on their faces. All I could here was their wheezing breath. I stood there holding the steel bar I used to operate the jack, waiting, not knowing what to do.\nThen they rushed me. Not all of them, only a fraction, the rest screamed. That high pitched screaming, not quite like a child, but in the same vocal range.\nI couldn't take it, I needed to hear something else, I screamed as loud as I could, just as they reached me. Their fingers, they were so tiny, I never knew that either. They must be completely unable to carry anything. They began pummeling me with these large arms with tiny balled up fingers, and for the first time in my life, I used violence. I began swinging. The wet smack of contact, the whimpers of pain and anguish. I was so angry. I swung and swung and swung. My arms felt like lead, my fingers felt too weak to hold onto the bar. But I kept swinging. They were rapping themselves around my legs, around my throat, and I kept swinging.\nThey lessoned they grip, I felt energized, I screamed again, and I began swinging harder and harder. I had suddenly realized something, I wasn't shrinking, but everyone around me was. They were nothing but large potatoes with long arms now, twitching and shaking. I was going to live! My son, my wife! I needed to get out of here! I understood now, violence was permitted in situations like this, to defend yourself in nature.\nI felt invincible.\nI turned to run and saw a deformed one standing in front of me. Somehow, I couldn't see because of the darkness, she held a gun. She slowly raised it to my face. I sprang into action, I WILL see my son, I had to survive this!\nI swung with all my strength and crushed her skull. She fell down with a wet thud. She fell into the light, and I saw it wasn't a gun in her hand, it was a bouquet of flowers.\n....what?...?\nThen they started laughing.\nThen I felt it. At first it felt like tightness, then heat, then burning. My fingers were in a vat of molten lava, my legs felt like they were under a pile of cement, my head it a vice. \nOh my god, I was shrinking. I tried to scream, but my mouth didn't work, all I could hear was the laughing, these high pitched voices. I convulsed on the ground, I could feel myself becoming deformed. I could feel the shame and embarrassment, how could my wife and child love me now?\nAs I slipped unconscious, the laughing slowly died, and all I could hear was loud wheezing breaths.\nMy last thought was the realization those loud breaths were mine, coming out of my miss-shapenly large noise. \nThen, darkness.\n\n"
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[WP] Write the most confusing anecdote to prove a really simple point.
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"\"I can't believe you just asked him that,\" I said, glaring at Karen as we quickly made our way out of the bar. \nShe stared back, clearly confused. \"What in the hell are you taking about?\"\n\"Okay, well, when I was little I always used to watch Sesame Street and I always wanted to become a puppeteer. My whole room was filled with puppets and I practiced with them every day. When I was seventeen a talent scout found me and said my talent belonged in Hollywood. She got me a job working on a kid's show- it got canceled after three episodes, but it was conceptual genius- and after that I got hired by Sesame Street! It was so exciting! Like, I was in that episode with Katy Perry when her tits jumped up and-\" I noticed Karen had turned and started walking up the street. I ran after her. \n\"You're fucking ridiculous,\" she said, rolling her eyes. \n\"No, but get this. So I was filming an episode this one day and we were on lunch break. I was walking around the studio and I ran into this black guy with a beard wearing old army fatigues. It was really weird and we apologized. I didn't recognize him at first and I kept on walking, but he turned me around and said, 'Don't you know who I am?!' I said no and he was like 'Is it because I'm black?' I said no and he was like 'I'm not black, I'm Robert Downey Jr.' I asked him if he was really black in real life and he said yes but I kinda think he said it sarcastically. So I asked him why he was white in all his other films and he just laughed. But get this: the next day I found a viral video of our conversation and people were making fun of me!\"\n\"What the hell are you trying to say?!\" Karen cried. \n\"Oh my god Karen,\" I said. \"You can't just ask someone why they're white.\"",
"\"I'm telling you,\" I said to him. He rolled his eyes and looked at me.\n\n\"Look man,\" I continued. \"If you don't believe me, check this out. So my cousin was dating this girl, a freshman. Her roommate was seeing this dude from, like, Westchester or some shit. Anyway I was talking to him one night at Freddy's about this, and he said that he had an Aunt who used to tell him the same thing, because when she was little, she was neighbors with this friend who's teacher told him about a time she was teaching a kindergarten class, and one of her student's mom told her that her niece's track coach was babysitting for a family friend who's youngest son totally stabbed himself in the arm.\"\n\nHe just stared at me with a blank look, blinking.\n\n\"So,\" I said. \"Don't run with scissors.\" "
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[WP] An aging superhero and his arch-nemesis have a final confrontation where they both realize that they're too old to continue fighting.
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"Bones crunched and cracked from the stress of his own breath. Years have made it so they bend and bruise before resetting, and the bruising with stands for much longer then it should. \n\nThe same bloodied shirt sat as pauldrons, ripped from the breast down. One of dozens and dozens he owned, and just one of thousands he used. After a time, the quality of denim one uses in such a situation becomes a hide, but still skin pocks were seen through open bullet wounds among his second skin. \n\nThe cross had finally snapped off his neck. Stabbed, shot, beaten, bruised, broken, mauled, and melted, the cross stood tall for decades. At the man's feet laid what should have been his son's. What he wore around his neck was his father's. What he stood upon were the shoulders of those who had worn it before, and each of their ideals sat in a murky puddle of blood. \n\nA corpse was mangled and crush across the room. A cacophony of loud and awful cracks, more shattering bones, and restringing sinews conducted an orchestra of the far from pleasant. \n\nPadded Durasteel armor with Kevlar linings, installed with especially designed shock-absorbers, had remained mostly undamaged, but the man inside had been reduced to some form of gelatin. Upon a glance, it was a corpse, but the sloshing of the man rolling around inside proved otherwise. Corpses simply don't slosh. \n\nOne man was standing, and dropped to his knees. The other was lying down, and promptly rose to them. The silence was the most the two ever exchanged in over a century. A silence that was filled by gasps as lungs realigned within their bodies. \n\n\"I ain't so good at speaking and I am not the best of man when it comes to words of the meaningful type, but I will say this-\"\n\nThe other man tried to respond, but his lungs had yet to reset entirely. He would have his words. \n\n\"Being a hero is about sacrifice. It's about giving all y'all can give to keep fighting no matter how hard or how ingrateful others may seem. It's about understandin' that things break and bruise, and often it's about takin' the bullet\"\n\n\"I've hear-\"\n\n\"I know you have. There was just one thing I dun' tried to give up for friend, but all them folk simply didn't wanna take it and I can say that it ain't the greatest to know I'm the only one still around\"\n\n\"Everyone you love is dead. How does it feel Cavalry?\"\n\n\"John\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm tired o' this. Always goin' by weird names callin' ourselves what we ain't and I just wanna be John again.\"\n\nThe armored man shook his head, and tried to stand, buckling under his own weight. Coming back from the dead is never easy, but sometimes it's harder then others. \n\n\"ALright, John,\" he said through a cough \"How does it feel knowing everyone you've ever loved is dead.\"\n\n\"I'm just gone go ask you the same thing. Cause I don't got an answer for ya but ya sure as hell got an answer for me, Resilience.\"\n\nResilience finally reached his feet, analyzing the blood and dirt on his armor. It wasn't going to be a cheap fix. \n\n\"I don't follow\"\n\nThe cross still rested in the puddle of blood which slowly started to mix with tears. \n\n\"Everyone I've fought for, everyone I've takin' a bullet for, I did it cause I loved those sorts no matter who they were cause that's way god taught us. But you, resilience, I seen the way y'all act, and I gotta say that you do quite find yourself mighty scorned cause God, wherever he may lie or stand, ain't allowing you to his pearly gates.\"\n\nCavalry wiped his eyes. \n\n\"You can't die. No matter what. You just get back up, cause you ain't allowed to be dead.\" \n\nCavalry paused. \n\n\"And you can't be killed,\" admitted Resilience, \"cause you just spit up every bullet, blow off every punch, and get pieced back together moments later. What's your point?\"\n\nThe cross, dented with a broken chain, rose up out of the blood as Cavalry did to his feet. Now in full composure, he approached Resilience. It was a stride of respect taken towards a man who never earned it. A blood soaked hand reached out, closed fist, the chain hanging from the side. \n\n\"125 years of this battle.\" \n\nResilience blinked, confused, and held out his own hand. Cavalry dropped the cross into his palm. Resilience clenched and smiled\n\n\"Heh. Finally giving in? After 125 years?\"\n\n\"I ain't givin' up, I'm just doin' what all heroes should. I'm loving everyone so I can keep fighting for them, and do right by the world.\"\n\n\"Cavalry, I still don't follow.\"\n\n\"I left my self be hurt in so many ways lovin' people I ain't ever known or gonna. And I beat on you, the only one left. I think it's 'bout time that I go about lovin those two folks I beat on most. You and me. We both got a lot of time left 'round here, and each only got one fellow man to spend that time with.\"\n\nResilience dropped his hands to his side. The silence returned, as if one could hear the gravity of his ruminations. \n\n\"I think I follow\"\n\n\"Ya do?\"\n\n\"Yup. Truce?\"\n\nCavalry smiled\n\n\"Truce. Now we got alotta making up to do\"\n\n\n\nEDIT: This one was done after my nighttime pills kicked in, I'm editing it tomorrow. ",
"\"Say your final prayers, Mightyman.\"\n\nDr. Terror stands facing him. Between the two is a cage, Mightyman sitting inside. He was beaten and broken, arms and legs in chains.\n\nDr. Terror holds up a gun. He looks into the dark brown eyes of Mightyman. His arm trembles. He closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath; he has been waiting for this moment. All those plans, all those traps, all those years--culminating here in this dark little lab underground.\n\n He opens his eyes and lowers his arm. He drops the gun. \n\n\"I can't do this.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm done. I'm too old for this shit.\"\n\nMightyman looks at Dr. Terror, eyes suspicious. \n\n\"What do you mean? It's been thirty years and you've finally got me where you want me. Stop gloating and kill me.\"\n\n\"I'm serious. I've done things I'm not proud of, and I'm done with this. My life, my real life, is good. I've got a granddaughter now, and retirement is turning out to be quite nice.\"\n\n\"What? What about your goals? Change the city, kill the dirty politicians, better policies, yadda yadda yadda?\" Mightyman coughs.\n\n\"I mean it's not half-bad now. Sure it could be better but things are starting to look up. Besides, you don't know what it's like to be a villain.\" Dr. Terror slumps against a wall. \"My hands are stained with the blood of the innocent and the guilty--mostly the guilty--and I can't take it anymore.\"\n\nMightyman repositions himself. \"So you're just walking away from all of this now? Because of retirement and your granddaughter? Makes my job easier, I guess.\" He coughs again.\n\n\"You know what she said to me the other day? My granddaughter? 'When I grow up I want to be just like you.' Hell, I hope she doesn't\"\n\n\"I see. So what happens now?\"\n\n\"I suppose I let you go and hope you don't beat the shit out of me.\"\n\n\"I won't.\"\n\n\"Pinky promise?\"\n\n\"Don't push it.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nDr. Terror unlocks the chains, and starts running away. Mightyman begins to chase after him but falls down, sending tools and lab equipment to the ground.\n\n\"Help,\" he cries weakly.\n\nHe hears Dr. Terror's footsteps stop. Silence. Then they start again, but become louder. \n\nMightyman looks up at his nemesis of thirty-some years, and says \"I guess I'm not so mighty anymore. I think I broke something.\" He tries to roll over onto his back and lets out a sharp gasp. Dr. Terror still stands over him.\n\n\"You know, you don't know what it's like being a hero. Being depended on. You don't know what it's like when people end up getting hurt, despite your best efforts. My body is slow now. I can't save everyone and it hurts. You don't know what that failure is like.\"\n\n\"Sounds like I'm not the only one too old for this business.\" Dr. Terror pulls out a prepaid cell phone and dials 911. \"I hope you've got a replacement, a Mightyboy or something.\" He sets the phone down near Mightyman and begins walking away. \"You and I both know this city still needs one.\""
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[WP]Woman forms addiction to a new drug made from human bone marrow. Desperation forces her to kill her boyfriend/fiancée/husband to make the drug. Write her 911 call after she realizes what she's done.
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"**CALL RECEIVED**\n\nOPERATOR: 911, what’s your emergency?\n\nCALLER: I…I need someone.\n\nOPERATOR: Are you hurt ma’am? Can you tell me the nature of your emergency?\n\nCALLER: It’s…I…There’s so much blood. I…I didn’t think there would be so much.\n\nOPERATOR: Who’s bleeding ma’am? Are you hurt?\n\nCALLER: I just wanted…I mean…I just didn’t realize…\n\nOPERATOR: Ma’am, is someone injured?\n\nCALLER: He’s…I think he’s dead. He’s dead, I…I just wanted to…but…please, I need someone.\n\nOPERATOR: Who’s dead ma’am? Has someone been hurt? Can you tell me what happened?\n\nCALLER: I just…it wasn’t enough. I didn’t have enough, and I needed more. I just…I just wanted a bit, but he didn’t want me to.\n\nOPERATOR: Okay ma’am, I need you to tell me who has been hurt.\n\nCALLER: Please, there’s so much blood…and…I just…it wasn’t enough…\n\nOPERATOR: Stay calm ma’am. We’ve received your location from your phone, I’m sending police officers and an ambulance to you. Please just stay on the line with me.\n\nCALLER: Yes. Yes, please send someone. Send lots of people. It wasn’t enough, and I just want more. Please…send as many people as you can.\n\n**CALL TERMINATES**\n"
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[WP] Make me hungry
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"Another of yesterdays beef, cooked from tough to tender, with the same vegetables. \n\nA thick pot of bright red soup, next to toast piled high with melted cheese. \n\nChickens, oh the chickens--some rotisseried whole, stuffed with rosemary, thyme, oregano, ginger, and lightly rubbed with oil. Some, cut into pieces, with drumsticks and breasts rubbed with garlic and soaked in lemon, laying next to the coals. \n\nSausages, what sausages--skins stuffed to tight with meat and spices they seemed fit to burst, stewed or roasted until the fat crackled and dripped from splitting cases. \n\nStrips of meats, soaked in spiced sauces, laid out over heaping beds of steamed spinach, broccoli, and rice. \n\nThick, yeasty bread rolls, with pats of butter melting inside, rich, savory, sweet, all at once. \n\nGarlic rubbed toast, piled high with chopped tomatoes mixed with oregano and jalapeno's.\n\nHere, a crock of last falls vegetables, sliced and mashed and blended together into a thick spread for stacks of rolls and slices of sourdoughs. \nNext to a steaming wok, mounds of freshly stir fried vegetables with strips of well spiced tofu lay beside an even higher pile of fresh corn cobs, baby carrots, broccoli, kale, and a dozen other species and types, ready to be cooked themselves. \n\nCarafes of wine, water, and any other beverage you'd care to name stood at attention next to ice cold cups, filled to the brim already. \n\nAnd the steaks--the freshest, thickest, finest cuts, each cooked to the finest possible variants of \"Rare\", \"Medium\", \"Well Done\", and everything in between. \n\n\nAn old man sat before the desert table. Surrounded by pies, tarts, and pastries--a bright green key lime to his right, a lemon and a pecan to his left, with a pile of eclairs thick with cream laid out before him--he stared, longingly, at a simple slice of apple before him. \n\nA hand, skin tight against bone, trembled as he picked up a fork. Carefully, he dug it into the slice before him. Almost hesitantly, he brought it to his mouth. His lips closed around the tines of the fork. \n\nPerhaps five seconds later he stopped hacking, coughing, gagging, and started to weep as he turned away from the morass of black ooze that had spilled from his mouth. ",
"Ah. There it is. The light smell of the pie is drifting out from the kitchen to where I sit at my computer desk. It takes me back to childhood treats from the local bakery and lifts my mood. When the heavy scent of the steak hits me my mouth wets, body preparing for the feast of the senses and of the stomach.\n\nThat uncontrollable rush of saliva on the anticipation of something truly delicious is one of the things that makes life worth living, whoever you are.\n\nI close all the browser windows, hastily flick the mouse and hit the tiny box marked \"Shut Down\", at with it I shut down the part of my brain reserved for sifting through the informational tsunami. Now it is time for a simple delight, one that technology can never succeed.\n\nI enter the kitchen. My doubts leave me. This is going to be one hell of a pie. By the time I heave the oven door open my hands are already sweaty. I am temporarily knocked out of my senses by the rush of warm air from the oven, bringing with it the full, vibrant olfactory concoction. Carefully I retrieve my treasure from the oven. In what seems like no time it sits there in front of me, gently steaming and golden brown, the steam from the carrots and peas forming condensation on my glass of water. They shine with their light coating of butter. The gravy is thick and rich-looking. My eyes are enjoying this almost as much as my nostrils.\n\nAnd now for my mouth....",
"Back in Batt, shit they probably say it everywhere in the Army, they say you're either a hungry Ranger or a Sleepy Ranger.\n\nI knew. I knew before I ever got on the bus that I'd be a hungry Ranger.\n\n----\n\nHe was blathering on again about getting his Go. Simpering little prick. He dropped that fuckin' attitude real quick once he realized the only way he was getting a Go was if we fuckin' carried him to it. It was no wonder, cherry LT, Quartermaster Corp, ROTC brat, never been on a trip - of course he needed us.\n\n\"Simmons!\" I spat his name out of my mouth like it was a wad of dip that had lost the flavor. He looked at me with that pathetic look he'd had since he got here, the one that said he outranked us, that we had to listen to him, but that he was afraid of telling anyone what to do because he didn't know *what* to tell them to do.\n\n\"Shut the fuck up. Just shut your goddamn cock gobbler for two fucking seconds. We'll get you your fucking Go, for nothing else other than that I don't want to recycle with you when I get fucked because they make you my Squad Leader when I'm trying to get mine. We've done this in real life, just shit the fuck up. Tommy will tell you what you need to do when you need to do it. Right now, you shut the fuck up, and we're going to try to sleep until the RIs come back.\"\n ----\n\nI'd told him we wanted to sleep, and we did.\n\nMost of the guys I came with were sleepy Rangers. They were hungry, sure, we all were. But they weren't hungry like me. It was all I thought about.\n\nI've always liked food, liked to eat. I've been fat, very fat, more than a few times in my life because I just love to eat. I have a shitty palette too, I like grease and salt and bread. And Flaming Hot Cheetos. God, do I love those mother fuckers. And McDonald's cheeseburgers, and Domino's pizza. God, I miss the fast food.\n\nThat was when it hit me, the super food. I don't know what I would call it, or if any of my hungry collaborators in this banquet of imagination had thought of it yet, but I knew it was the perfect food for when I finally got out of this hell hole and could eat again.\n\nOne slice of Domino's pizza - ham, pineapple, jalapenos because that's the only way to eat it, in between the two burger patties of a McDonald's plain double cheese burger. Fuck yes, that's it. That's the first thing I'm eating when I get out of Ranger School.\n\nI reached for my notebook and furiously scribbled it down. I could hardly remember my friend's names between the patrols, our sleep schedule, the lack of food, Simmon's blathering on - I didn't want to forget this beautiful bitch.\n\nI wrote it on its own page where I would riff on it, concoting variations. Maybe I'd put the burger in between to slices of the pie? With bun, maybe without bun. I don't know, the bun has a good portion of the flavor. I didn't eat the buns when I was fuckin' with Keto, and man let me tell you, the bun is not without it's merits. \n\nThe notebook was full of food. Most of the food was just mundane, items I'd been craving. There were some interesting creations for sure, chicken fingers - fucking home made, a man that can't cook for himself is no man at all, and breaded in crushed up Flaming Hot Cheetos. Those are my jam. I could eat bags and bags, especially if I had a nice ice cold Pepsi in a can to wash it down with. Has to be a can. Plastic bottles don't have the same taste. I know, I sound like Hank Hill, but any real connoisseur will tell you they have a preference. If you don't, you're either an amateur or a gluttonous fuck with no scruples.\n\nMy fantasies were cut short by that godawful simpering mother fucker.\n\n\"Hey, Skine, wake up, Skine, the RIs are headed over here.\"\n\n---------------\n\nThis is real as real gets. Everytime I've been in a military school, or a deployment I've kept a notebook. I was never that hungry of a Ranger, I usually had a few pages of food, but I usually had a few pages of everything - things I'd buy when I was done, music, food, drinks, places I wanted to go, movies and tv I'd catch up on, books I wanted to re read, video games I'd heard were going to be cool.\n\nAnd the pizza burger was not mine, I cribbed it from a good friend of mine, KS. I don't remember what he called it, but I think it had a sexual name. He definitely riffed on that too, I think when he finally set out to eat it it had changed to a sandwich with grilled cheese sandwiches for bread and either a pizza slice or a burger in the middle. He said it was the best thing he'd ever eaten and that he couldn't finish it.\n\nHope you enjoyed.",
"As I sat and doodled in my notebook a hint of tonight's feast wafted through the gaps in the old wooden door of my quaint room at the inn. Laden with apple and spice I anticipated that Mrs. Filmore was preparing my much touted favourite for desert, apple crumble. As my olfactory rejoiced I reclined and looked up at the lacy covering above the antique four poster bed. I surmised it was likely of the same vintage as the family apple crumble recipe.\n\nI rested my weary eyes and inhaled deeply, the breeze from my open window carrying the sound and notes of the musicians on the patio just a floor below me. I breathed in the sublime scent of the roast beef slowly roasting. Having stayed here quite frequently it was a given that along side would be fresh and eggy Yorkshire pudding and a hearty dish of au jus.\n\nMy palette longed for a good meal. I salivated and checked the time, three thirty. I rolled and allowed myself to melt into the soft pillow top of my bed. A quick rest. Surely I'd dream of the dining room, the merriment, and the fine China they always used on holidays.",
"I looked up from the porch where I sat with my mother and grandpa. The hollow sound of the bells broke through the dry air and I could see people began to trickle out of their homes. I sighed and stood to help my mother out of her chair. There was no rush, the rations were measured and even. \n\nThe bells rang twice a day, once for breakfast and once for dinner. That was if we were lucky. During a drought like this one we would often go days without hearing the bells. You learn to live with the hole in your gut. \n\nWe used to try and till our land in the hopes of stirring up some fertile soil. It was always futile and just made us hungry. Now we conserve our energy as much as possible. We sleep most of the day and only rise to use the restroom, which is usually once a week. No one speaks unless necessary, but there’s nothing to talk about anyways. I haven’t spoken a word in a month, and that was to tell my father I loved him before he died.\n\nMy mother and I made our way to the square where they serve the rations. A long line waited for us, and we all sat down in the dirt single file. Everyone was sullen and no one spoke a word. Mr. Elliot was in line in front of us. He had a farm just a few miles down from ours. He stayed standing up to hold his daughter Jessie, who was unconscious in his arms. I used to play with her at school, back in the days of plenty. Jessie must have died this morning, but they might still give Mr. Elliot her ration out of sympathy.\n\nAfter about an hour it was our turn. I handed a ticket to the server and got two bowls, one to bring back for grandpa. The food today was what we called “watered down dirt.” I laughed the first time I heard that, but I soon learned that it wasn’t a joke. It looks like a misty brown soup that tastes like iron. \n\nMy mother and I ate immediately so we would have the energy to return home. We knew to eat slowly, despite wanting to ease the pain in our stomachs quickly. I reveled in the feeling of food in my throat and I could feel the liquid trickle into my stomach. Pain shot through my stomach as the knot of hunger began to unravel. I could feel energy return to my muscles, but I always felt light headed after eating. My body always wanted more. \n\nWhen we got back home I sat down next to grandpa to feed him. I lifted the spoon to his mouth but he didn’t respond. I opened his mouth for him and forced him to eat. He was motionless. I felt his pulse. Nothing.\n\nI looked over at mother who looked back at me with eyes as lifeless as grandpa’s. I walked over to her and sat in her lap. I wanted to cry, but I knew it would only waste water. She took the spoon from me and put it to my mouth. I ate, and then she did the same. \n\nWe slept together that night without a word between us, and my heart was as hollow as the bells.\n",
"\nJosie’s stomach growled violently and it felt as if a battle were waging inside of her. Her mouth was drier than a desert and her throat cracked with thirst. She yearns for a juicy steak or even a loaf of fresh and warm bread. It didn’t even have to be a whole loaf; a single slice would do. One small thick slice made Josie hallucinate; the scent of freshly made bread wafted throughout the air.\n\n Josie imagines a pie with chocolate filling and her throat throbs. She remembers her grandmother’s pies at Thanksgiving and begins to cry as she sees the steam drifting from the turkey. She imagines a huge glass of wine beside her plate. She envisions herself drinking it all in one gulp; she was so thirsty that she could drink an entire ocean.\n\n She screams in pain as her stomach convulses. She was starving so badly that her stomach felt hollow like a puppet. She yearns that some ventriloquist would save her and drop some food down from the heavens. She decides that she’s had enough and opens her eyes to see a blinding bright light. She pauses the youtube video and heads down to the kitchen.\n"
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[WP] You are a soul lost in Hell that should be in Heaven. A demon comes along offering a contract to stay in Hell for reasons you cannot refuse...
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"*Sorry somewhat long, first WP, English is not my first language.*\n\n..\n\nMy death was probably as boring as my life, heart attack. Single income no kids. A couple of short liaisons, sometimes months one time even a year, but I never could hold any relationship for too long. Friends used to say I have too high moral standards on a partner. They painted me as some kind of saint, I liked to not think too much of it. When the glowing light came, I had the feeling someone spoke to me, from the middle of my head. \n\n\"In malam rem cum illo.\" If I knew what that meant I would have had more fear. I woke up between white marble pillars, thin sheer fabric like a curtain between them, the sun was shining almost unbearable bright, a light wind played with the fabric. I could smell the sea, at least I think that is what it smells like, I have never been to the sea. Once my eyes where used to the light I mustered myself. My body was in a pinnacle condition, better than any time when I had lived. I was bare naked, but temperature was all right, even the marble was nicely warm. I stood up and looked thought the curtains, A green island below me, I am in some kind of glittery temple of Athens on top of a rock below me a small island not more than a kilometre wide and long. \n\n\"Not what you would expected from hell.\" I took a step to the side. A human-like figure was right there, pretty androgynous but still with many feminine features, including the voice. She was pitch black, with no face, the outline flickered like some sort of ethereal goo. I was shocked and frozen at this sight. The creature sighed and motioned as if it sucked in air again. \"It is always the same with your kind, I will make this short and informative. Yes you are dead, yes you are in hell, yes you are not really supposed to be here.\" She paused to let me comprehend as I was about to protest she wagged her, I guess you could call it a finger. \"Let me finish this and then you may ask questions. Hell is not what your average religion has told you. Yes it is real, but heaven and hell are not exactly two places. You see, when you die, your soul goes through judgement, infallible judgement. All your fears, your hopes, your moral identity are exposed. You are judged by what kind of person you have become.\" \n\nShe motioned towards a small coffee table arrangement, it was not there before. \"Have a seat.\" Her walking was accompanied by black dots appearing behind her that imploded like soap bubbles. She spoke as I sat in the well cushioned chair. \"You may call me ॠअमअशअ\". I tried to reproduce what she said \"Ramasan\", \"Good enough!\" She sounded rather displeased. \n\n\"I am one of the demons of the outer circle. My calling is to set up the judged. You are technically not in my hell but you are in your hell. It is a bit complicated but it is the reason for my rather strange appearance. I am here to basically help you make a decision. You have three options. Number one is to forget everything and be reborn. Number two is to ascend to heaven and meet again with people that you know that want to be met. Or number three is to stay in hell.\" In a flash of genius or so I thought, I blurted out. \"If this is hell, what is then heaven like!?\" She sighed once again, a briefcase appeared to her side. \"Heaven is a boring place, you see, the moment everyone is blissful you have to take in account that nothing truly can happen. Everyone is stripped of their powers and strength so everybody is equal and yes you have powers you are just not aware of it yet. \" \n\nShe snapped the briefcase open. “I am not just a re-locator but also do in contracts. You see Hell is a strange place, when a person is judged guilty they get no powers and have to be in hell until the sins are even. \n\nAll nature longs towards entropy, balanced entropy that is. So this is where the torment comes in. Earth, in your case that is the planet right? Earth is a place where many people take advantage of others and torment and exploit them already there, this produces an imbalance. ”\nShe took a brownish tinted paper out of the bag. “I would like to recruit you to stay in hell as a demon.” I was overrun by questions, but could only stutter. “Why!?”. “People can not torment themselves good enough to even out. This is where people like you come in handy. Not good enough to go straight to heaven, not bad enough to be condemned either. You would be natures executive command, bringing balance.\n\n I have seen your judgement, you would have loved,“ she motioned like a fish monger being asked if they have fish “to be the bad guy, but you where not. This is your chance to be sadistic without any consequences, your chance to draw blood, you only can not kill, that would be against logic. Once a soul has been tortured enough they return in the cycle of life. Your contract foresees open end and shipment of 3 souls per decade, You can always terminate the contract and have the option of heaven or rebirth still open. With your powers you can reshape the souls you are given to appearance of your choice, as well as your surroundings. High working telekinesis and more will come to you the moment you sign.”\n\nShe placed a white pencil next to the contract which almost word by word resembled what she just told me. “Any questions?”",
"It took me a moment to realize where I was. It took me even longer to realize that I had died and was no longer a part of the living. \n\n\nWhat is Hell like?\n\n\nThere is no fire and brimstone. Pitchforks, screams of pain - all of those are the orchestra of a tall tale - a story composed of what one cannot quite understand except through the attempts of imagination. \n\n\nHell is not terrible. It is nothing while being something. Apathy in the form of punishment.\n\n\n\nI am a lost soul. \n\n\nI have been, since the days I breathed and laughed and lived - for me, no shepherd ever arrived to guide me to any form of haven. I will tell you now, that no such shepherd exists, at least not in the manner of an individual's sole savior. If you are lucky enough to come across one that can lead you to a destination of salvation, it is by pure chance; consider yourself fortunate for recognizing and accepting the chance. \n\n\n\nIf there is one thing that I believe I have learned, is that we, the *sheep*, are the only ones who hold the potential to shepherd. \n\n\n\nI am a lost soul. \n\n\nThere is no fire, there is no brimstone. There are no pitchforks, nor screams of pain. Yet I am in Hell, and I am certain of it. \n\nSomehow, some way, I am able to innately understand that Heaven awaits me, and that I've strayed down a path that I had not been fated to travel upon. \n\n\n\nYet why do I choose to stay?\n\n\n\n\nRemember how I mentioned that the sheep are actually the shepherds? \n\n\n\nThe damned are the true demons, and these demons are our own. \n\n\n\n\nI am in Hell. \n\n\nI stay, due to my own volition. I am my own demon. ",
"I have spent my whole life proud of my ability to suppress fear yet in death my heart races as it never has, my palms sweat, my throat closes. \n\nI am terrified yet pulled toward a gate... One the like of which I have never seen or experienced. It's red fear burning through me, searing my soul with the impending doom of an eternity spent in pain, in fear. \n\nFrom within my head though not in control I stumble toward the gate and I am thrown with force into it's doors. \n\nThey break. \n\nI fall. \n\nUpon my landing I see my skull shatter on sulphur encrusted rock, I smell the burning of uncountable corpses. \n\nA body rises before me, it's face a void consuming the flame light. \n\n'Tell me...' it screams 'will you stay... or seek... quieter surrounds?'\n\n'I will try to find a place less terrible than this!' \n\nI choke on heat. Dry lips cracking and skin burning. \n\nThe being wailed 'keep close... to your thoughts... your wrong doings!'\n\nI felt a wave of sorrow and pain swell from within.\n'These are past!' I reasoned with it 'They already seem an eternity behind me' \n\n'But!... as you must know... within eternity, what seems an eternity is but a moment...' it retorted\n'Show me a reason... you deserve... to leave here?' it's voice hollow and wheezy.\n\n'I have none. I lived as a sycophant... forever thinking of myself... forever giving nothing and taking what I could.' \n\n'Then stay... show your remorse... show your self hatred... live in pain... live with all those... like you... and die here... a thousand times over... and a thousand more... as you deserve...'\n\nI could not move. I could not breathe. I felt nothing but burning, searing pain. I saw nothing, heard nothing, tasted nothing for longer than is possible to imagine. \n\n(spitting shit from my mind. I am sick of editing myself so you get raw me :) "
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[WP] A splinter colony that began from deep space exploration has lost contact with all life for the last 10 years. Today they received a message.
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"My old man would listen to the radio, every day, for hours each evening. Before she died, mom would bring him tea while he listened to the static. She was old fashioned that way. I built a home a few miles away when I married my wives, but would return every few days to visit. Less so when mom died, but often enough that whenever I'd visit, I could expect to see him there listening. Today was different. As I walked to the door I noticed that it was slightly open. Thinking it might be a thief or that something might be wrong, I approached quickly but silently. I found him filling a duffel bag with explosives and weapons. A gun was holstered on his hip. \n\nThe sound of the radio caught my attention. Through the static, I could make out a faint voice on the other end saying, \"This is -att-le-hip ~static~, please respond.\" over and over.\n\n\"Son, turn it off.\"\n\n\"But dad, there's someone there! They might--\" He slapped me.\n\n\"I said turn it off!\"\n\nI felt ashamed and said so. He looked down and didn't speak, but looked absently at the ground. \n\n\"Did you ever wonder why we came here?\" I nodded. \"The place we left behind. Most importantly, the people we left behind. There was something wrong with them, maybe with all of us. So, we came here and made a home. Many years ago, when you were only a child, the colony leaders, myself and a few others; sent a distress message and a dire warning that all who came here could expect death - an uncontrollable plague for which there was no cure. I had hoped they wouldn't check, but it looks like they have.\"\n\nThrough this time, the message continued over the radio. My father walked over to it, raised his pistol and fired several times directly into the radio. The last bit of static clipped out and then a small plume of smoke rose for a few moments more.\n\n\"There is a chance. Our base of operations was a few miles north of here. That's where they'll check first and hopefully, the only place they'll check.\"\n\nWe rode north until we reached the pyramids. Three of them were brought here with the colony; others scattered different places around the continents. Giant stone structures covered in reflective limestone, transported by huge anti-matter wave cannons and brought here for the colony. As a boy, while the cannons were disassembled for parts, I would climb them and by midday, my hands would be red from the heat. \n\nHe began unloading and planted the devices around the pyramids. \n\n\"This will simulate a destructive and terminal event. I need to stay here; in case anything goes wrong. Primarily human matter will be needed for when they scan. There won't be much genetic diversity, but that is to be expected, especially for a colony.\"\n\nHe looked at me, one last time; eyes strong steady. \n\n\"You'll have thirty minutes, that's all the time I can give you. I want you to run. Take your family and get as far away from here as you can. Pack only what you can carry. When it goes off, this whole damn place will be wasteland, a desert. It won't be habitable. Whatever you do, don't look behind you. Blindfold the children if you have to. And promise me that you'll keep things going.\" I did.\n\nI raced home, told the wives and twenty-three children to grab everything they could and we headed north of the pyramids as quickly as possible. As we left, the light from the explosion burned so brightly that it left shadows where we stood. \n\nIn there north there was a splinter colony of genetically modified humans. They are said to have sloping foreheads and deep-set brows. We hope that they are still friendly and will accommodate us.\n\n",
"Jonas sat on the hill, watching the sheep idly cropping the short grass, searching for sweet clover or the blue-green broadleafs native plant that they had taken such a fondness to.\n\nHe'd never known another life; Earth was, to him, a legend and a dream. It was a place that existed for his grandfather in memory, for his father in the occasional tight-beamed update from the mother planet, and for him only in the memory of the elder generation. The transmissions had stopped when he was a child.\n\nTheir life was here now. Their future was here now.\n\nThe bleat of a lamb in distress stirred Jonas from his lazy revery, and he picked himself up to investigate it. Catching up his staff and his sling, he wandered up the hill, following the sound. With almost two dozen sheep under his care, he was constantly vigilant for their safety. No natural predators here, but plenty of cracks and crevices for them to get caught in.\n\nHe climbed the hill, found the lamb (an overeager youngster whose ability to climb was not matched by its ability to descend) and picked it up, ready to carry it down to more level ground. As he turned, his gaze swept out over the neighboring valley, untouched by the rambling buildings, solar panels, windfarms and detritus of humanity that his own was characterized by.\n\nHis jaw dropped. There were three shapes descending from the sky, heavy winged shapes, gleaming like metal and water, fire scorching the ground beneath them. These were not airplanes. These were not the rockets that he saw in his picture boooks. These were not of his people, and they were not of Earth.\n\nThese were *alive*.",
"\"Rise and shine, assholes\" the guard ran his shockstick along the bars. It was engaged on a low setting, but some of the prisoners who had been resting their heads or arms against the metal woke up with jerks and gasps.\n\n\"What the fuck, mine? Si only 3:75.\" complained one of the younger ones.\n\nThe guard grinned, the phosphorescence of his teeth casting a sick pallor on the groaning laborers as they staggered upwards.\n\n\"You lot are harvesting the taters in Glasscell 17 today. The Warden is having a big meal tonight. All the Big Men are gonna be enjoying a nice meal of hamburger and fries. Remember that, you shits?\"\n\nSeveral of the prisoners' eyes lit up. It had been a long time since the last of the real food supplies had run out. The main staple was now several varieties of indigenous shellwood, seasoned with artificial salt and flavorings produced from the chemical supplies.\n\nThere were murmurs of discontent. It hadn't just been the fear of shockstick beatings and punishment from the local Big Man, but also a dream of real Earth food that had kept discipline among the convicts as they slaved away harvesting under the red glare of the Big Sun and the biting ultraviolet of the Little Sun.\n\n\"Shut your mouths\" The guard sent a greater charge coursing into the metal floor. Those whose feet were unprotected convulsed and collapsed wheezing.\n\n\"You are not going unrewarded, ungrateful shits. Potato skin is being re-purposed. It ain't Macdee but it'll be a step up. Respect your betters, you all know why you're here.\n\nThat the guard had once been one of them, a fellow convict, who through ass-kissing and violence been jumped-up in status following the Understanding, was not lost on the prisoners, but this time complaints were limited to sullen looks. \n\nBefore the cell could be shifted in its configuration to link with the potato harvest glasscell, there was a cough from all around. Throughout the prison configuration, in each cell and passageway, the speakers of the long-unused mass broadcast system were kicking into life.\n\nIn a distant cell, a heavy with a diamond shank loomed and spat in a terrified techie's face.\n\n\"Turn it off, motherfucker. It ain't time!\"\n\n\"Si...si no me, main. Si override system. From outside. I can't do anything bout it.\"\n\nIn a pleasure cell, the Warden pushed aside the young woman with the orange bikini top and the distant eyes away as he goggled at the Viewscreen, the only viewscreen remaining in the entire configuration, as the face on the screen gave its message.\n\n\"Penal Colony Redemption, this is the ESS Spartacus. We are here to offer explanation and succor in your desperation. The Lost Colonies are being reclaimed by Earth. However, due to the Revolution on Earth, the Colonial Authority has lost its right to operate penal colonies on marginal worlds. These systems are being liberated by the forces of the Combined People's Union. All convicts are to be pardoned, regardless of their crimes. Wardens and other personnel will be judged according to their conduct during the period of no-contact, and prosecuted or pensioned in reflection of their deeds.\"\n\nIn a thousand interlocking cells, the prisoners cheered and guards panicked, violence soon breaking out. Makeshift clubs and bare fists were brought down on shocksticks, shattering them, and ammunition, long rationed, was proving to be insufficient to quell the rising insurrection.\n\nFew heard the continued purring from the loudspeakers as they screamed and shouted in righteous fury and desperate fear. The most desperate fear was in the Warden's quarter itself. \n\nThe entity on the viewscreen undulated and bubbled as it spoke through the crudely fashioned hole that flapped and oozed. Greasy yellow tendrils stretched from ceiling to floor, which were both brimming with an amorphous flesh peppered with teeth and blood-weeping eyes.\n\n\"The Combined People's Union loves all of humanity. All humanity together. One people, one voice, one body, one soul. Parliament of viscera, warm and wet and stinking. Merging, mixing, masticating, masturbating, menstruating, mewling sweetly the young consumed emerging from heaving wombs. Do not fear. The human race has found you again.\"",
"“Sir, the probe has successfully passed through the asteroid belt, still no radio contact.”\n\nThe anxiousness in the mission control room was palpable, ordinarily a dozen people could be comfortably accommodated, but it was currently packed with the president, senators, scientists, and the military brass. The temperature of the room had become uncomfortable an hour ago; droplets of water were running down the wall now. It didn't matter. The fate of Earth, their home planet, was about to be discovered. Outside the room was a hallway full of people struggling to gain leverage over each other for a glimpse of what was happening inside. Nearly everyone else in the colony was gathered outside in the city square awaiting the news.\n\nIt had taken time to develop a space program on Quevius. When contact had stopped the planet was only left with a small fleet of autonomous thorium powered commercial vessels. Quevius's power was mostly generated by thorium as well, and without resupply from Earth it had to be scavenged from the spacecraft. That was nearly a decade ago now, and Quevius City had become a thriving metropolis. Three of the commercial craft had been retrofitted as probes and sent out towards Earth, but only one had made it this far.\n\n“Sir, the probe has passed Luna and is now in Earth’s orbit. I am getting some troubling measurements; it seems that the magnetosphere is rendering much different readings than should be expected.”\nThere was a sharp gasp from the back of the room followed by an exclamation of “A solar flare!” President Mason spoke, “If that theory is correct it would explain the radio silence, I want imagery over every major population center the probe passes! We must know the current status of Earth, are they recovering or…” Nothing else needed to be said, everyone in the room knew the alternative. \n\nFirst was Delhi, then Persepolis, followed by Cairo, and Marrakech. There was no need to enhance the imagery; some parts of each city were still smoldering – the blackened buildings of each city sent shivers down the spine of everyone in the room. Several hours passes and every major city was either destroyed or clearly abandoned. “Mr. President, many of the people here were born on Earth, still have… had… families on Earth. What do we tell them?” President Mason looked over his shoulder into the hallway, much of it had emptied out, harbingers of the terrible news had already been loosed upon his city. After an uncomfortable moment of silence he answered, “We tell them we have succeeded in establishing a refuge for humanity. We tell them we have secured a future for our species. Most importantly, we tell them that we must rescue our legacy, our heritage. We tell them it is now time for the daughter to look after the mother. We tell them that we are going back home to salvage what we may.”\n\nEdit: words",
"Ten years. Not a word from anyone. The star charts had been lost in a solar flare in the third year as they tried to make their way back home. Half the population dead in a debris strike in the fourth. Disease in the fifth. They were careful for a few years and it was looking good. Found a nice planet to settle. Started building, growing crops. It cost them their ship but that was the cost of self-sufficiency. A young generation was cropping up now. They'd almost forgotten about the old life. Their origins. Earth.\n\nUntil it paid a visit.\n\n\"Sir!\" The banging was abominable. The grizzled man frowned and considered ignoring the page at his door. Probably just another domestic issue. Someone else could deal with it. \"Sir, please! It's urgent!\"\n\nHe groaned. \"What this time?\"\n\n\"A message, sir.\"\n\n\"Couldn't you leave it til the morning, at least? It's the dead of night.\"\n\n\"No, sir, I mean-- I mean there's a message from outside the colony.\"\n\n\"Did someone break off and set up another settlement somewhere?\"\n\n\"No, no! It's-- interstellar communication.\"\n\nThe door was open instantly, the man, the colony warden, already issuing orders into his communicator. \"Trace the signal. Translate the message, if you can. Keep a copy of the original message. I'll be right there.\"\n\nHe didn't turn to look at the page struggling to keep up with his strides as he said, \"Details, if you can.\"\n\n\"We just got it, sir. Difficult to decipher; it's no language we know of. It's not very long, though. It's come from a long way away, too.\"\n\nThey were at the communications deck before he'd finished speaking. Dozens of men and women were milling around and more were following the warden in as the page stood by the doorway.\n\nOne of the officers was clearly already waiting for him. He wasted no time. \"We've checked every language in our database, sir. It doesn't exactly match any of them, but we've gathered two possible translations.\"\n\n\"Show me.\"\n\nThe wall-filling screen flashed two images: one of the original message, and one of the first translation.\n\n*Nine. Gather. Denizens eight. Ankle light. Inside through.*\n\n\"That's likely,\" the warden mused. \"What's the other?\"\n\nThe officer's eyes fell. A sheet of silence seemed to envelope the room. The screen flashed another message.\n\n*Participation enjoy. Begin terminate. Like. Entrance armaments.*\n\nThey saw the streaks of light coming over the horizons shortly.",
"They had built up this land with only their wits and what few supplies remained after the arduous journey. Though the exodus had left many weak, all effort was made to carve out a new life on this planet. In their hurry a few bags of ricewheat seeds had been brought but by some miracle they flourished in the alien soil. A town was established, named for Bram Levitsky, the captain who had brought them to safety, and everyone began to settle into the new home. Families began to grow and soon the pain of the past had faded away like winter storms come summer. Years passed. Then Bram, though aged like many of the first settlers, felt the haven he had built for the people shatter, and it began with a phone call.\n\n\"Ca--ng--m--eed-help. Can--u--hear me?\"\n\nBram stared at the radio on his desk. Its words were mangled by static, but it sounded like a distress call. He reached for the headset, prepared to call the mayors office and inform them one of the deployed ships was in trouble, when he remembered: there *were* no deployed ships tonight. Everyone was staying in to celebrate thanksgiving for the colony's success. So who was calling?\n\n\"This is Bramstown. Who is calling?\" Bram replied.\n\n\"This--Brav--Ind--questing assistance. Levitsky? Is that you? I never thought I'd be so glad to hear your voice.\"\n\nBram could not say the same. His heart grew cold at the prospect of meeting once again with the man who had ousted him and his supporters from the home planet.\n\n\"You won't believe what happened, man. Earth's *gone*. Solar flares, no atmosphere--far as I know we're the only ones left.\"\n\nBram exhaled deeply. He had hoped to leave his past behind, but somehow, all the way out here, it had still found him. And it was asking for help. \"How many are you?\" he asked. \n\n\"Maybe 4000. We really need aid right now.\"\n\n\"You want it from us... After you banished us out here to start over from scratch.\" \n\n\"Yeah, I know there's bad blood between us, and more than a few bridges burned. But we don't have much fuel left--once we land we're down for good. Come on, Bram.\"\n\nBram thought for a moment. He couldn't release his grudge so easily. His rival could die. After Bram himself had been sent out here to die.\n\n\"You see the green and blue moons? We're on the green one. Set down there and we'll come find you.\"\n\n\"Levitsky, I couldn't thank you enough. We're coming in.\"\n\nBram sat back in his chair, and waited. An hour later, the radio came back on. \n\n\"Levitsky, we're here. Where are you?\"\n\nBram clasped his hands on the desk. \"I can't let you poison the well again.\"\n\n\"What? Levitsky, what are you talking about?\"\n\n\"The green moon is completely uninhabitable.\"\n\n\"Bram, tell me what the *hell* is going on.\"\n\n\"Good night... From the blue moon.\"\n\n\"What?! Shit, man--\"\n\nBram switched the radio off and left to join the thanksgiving festivities."
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[WP] As it turns out, when you die, you don't go to heaven, but instead your soul is collected by a celestial garbageman.
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"\"By the way.... Go dig up the chest full of money I buried... I buried.... Blurgh,\" and with that statement I was dead, now hovering above my body watching my asshole no-good relatives desperately shaking my shoulder, trying to wake up me to figure out what I was talking about. \n\nHa, serves the assholes right. I was thankful that there was an afterlife that allowed me to see the reaction my little death-bed prank had caused. Things were going great from the looks of it, they were arguing with each other now desperately trying to shake me awake; but I wasn't asleep so I didn't wake up.\n\nAfter getting my fill of schadenfreude I looked around to examine my new habitat. It was the same basically except I could hover and everything had a cliché ethereal vibe to it. \n\nBummer, I was hoping the forty virgin thing had some truth to it.\n\nJust then, a big ass ghost truck came driving through the walls of the hospital. A giant ghost guy got out and grabbed me without saying a word and threw me into the back of his truck. I tried to escape, but it was too late, I was being compacted with a million other squirming souls.\n\nIt was going to be a very uncomfortable eternity.\n\n/r/PsychoWritingPrompts",
"\"Get your elbow out of my face!\"\n\n\"Do we even have faces?\"\n\n\"I bet if we did yours wouldn't be pretty.\"\n\nI don't understand. What's -- where am I? What's going on?\n\nWhat happened to the highway? I was...on my way to work. Who are all these people? Why can't I see?\n\n\"Whose turn is it to tell the new ones? Yours?\"\n\n\"I did it the last three times, someone else has to!\"\n\n\"We better not get anyone else, there isn't room left in this bag.\"\n\nBag?\n\n---\n\nI feel a sigh.\n\n**\"You're dead. All of you souls, you're dead.\"**\n\nThis voice is warm, slightly tired. Much louder than the rest.\n\nDead?\n\n**\"And I'm taking care of you all.\"**\n\nIs this heaven? Is heaven usually so crowded? I didn't think there were so many good people in the world.\n\nMaybe this is hell.\n\n**\"We're just making one quick trip over the ocean first.\"**\n\nA moment later, there's a new presence pushing at my side -- wait, how can I feel it? Do I even have a side?\n\n\"안돼...\"\n\nThis new addition prompts another round of complaints, about how little the space is and how cramped we are (and how can we even feel that way? We don't have bodies, do we?).\n\nThe voice sighs again.\n\n**\"You'd better get used to it. You're going to be much, much closer together after you go through the compactor.\"**"
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[WP] Everybody is suddenly turned to stone. For whatever reason, you and your brother are immune. He also happens to be on the opposite side of the country.
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"The first day nothing is different. The lights work, the fridge hums in the kitchen. When the ice falls it is startlingly loud. \n\n\n\nWithout the sounds of people the world is still noisy. Birds scream in the tress outside. I'm still in bed. The clock says it's ten after five. I don't know what woke me up. Sun comes through the window. It just passes between the buildings. My room faces the apartment across the way. The brown-red brick is soothing. I don't want to look in Hannah's room. I roll out of bed and walk to the bathroom.\n\n\n\nI don't bother with hot water. \n\n\n\nI make a cup of tea and eat a banana. It is over ripe. It is hard to swallow. I lean on the sink and look out into the car park. There are no people. I think about going to the bus stop, but toss it aside. I'll borrow the bike. I stand outside Hannah's room. I can hear nothing. When I put my cup in the sink I wipe my face.\n\n\n\nAlbert is empty. The intersection with Easter is a few houses down. I have my phone with me. Every sound is echoed, amplified. I see the first one at the stop.\n\n\n\nShe is older, huddled in a pile of scarves. In her smooth hands are a pair of knitting needles. A sock is taking shape. It is small enough for a baby. I lay the bike on the ground. I want to touch her. \n\n\n\nAs I reach out I think she might move. Her eyes have no pupil. They are flat. \n\n\n\nOnce, when I was very young, I went on a trip to a museum. It might have been the V and A or the British Museum. It was the one with the gods who sat on a building in Greece. I had wanted to touch one then too. They all looked so calm, so knowing. I touched a woman's hand. As I reached out I was full of fear. She was graceful. I could see the shape of her through the carved silk. The feeling was unlike anything I'd known. When I gripped her fingers I felt safe.\n\n\n\nThat was what this felt like. Cool and smooth. I could see the gray marbling along the ridge of her nose. I touched the swell of her cheek. Unlike the god her clothes were real. I did not move for a while. I looked at the flat eyes. Somehow, around her eyes and in the shape of her mouth I could feel an emotion.\n\n\n\nI pressed my hand against her face. \n\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I whispered. I hoped she couldn't... The thought was too horrible. \n\n\nI biked down the hill. I passed a billboard about the kelpies. Here and there the statues stood. They were not twisted or disfigured. I wondered when this had happened. A man has a key in the door of a chippie. I slowed. The sign said it opened at six. The momentum was enough to get me by the castle. It sat only a few yards away but the shadows it threw were giant. The sun wasn't high but is was bright. If in closed my eyes I could imagine the warmth.\n\n\nAs I sat there in to middle of the street my phone rang. A clock inside of a close said it was almost six. The sun shafted through the pines at the end of the road.\n\n\n\"Hello?\" I didn't recognise my voice.\n\n\nThere was the soft sound of breathing, then \"Gen? Gen?\" I knew that voice.\n\n\n\"Hey Paddy.\" I swallowed. \n\n\n\"Hi.\" His voice was soft. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\n\"In front of the castle.\" \n\n\n\"Ah.\" I settled down on the seat. The wheels creaked as I moved. \n\n\n\"What about you?\"\n\n\n\"I'm looking at the ocean.\"\n\n\n\"The ocean?\" I could almost hear it through the phone.\n\n\n\"Oh... Guess I forgot to tell you. I'm... I'm in Brighton.\"\n\n\n\"How is it?\"\n\n\n\"There's a ship on the beach. It crashed during the night. I went to see if anyone was hurt.\" His breath was shallow. \n\n\n\"I know what you saw.\"\n\n\nI watched a bird perch on a man bending to tie his shoe. It scratched at the the folds of his shirt.\n\n\n\"I can come to you, so you won't be alone.\"\n\n\n\"How would you do that?\" \n\n\n\"There's no train. I could bike.\"\n\n\nI could hear him sit down. The pebbles clattered as he moved. \"That's far.\"\n\n\n\"People do bike tours along the coast of Spain. Edinburgh to Brighton isn't impossible.\"\n\n\n\"How long will that take you?\"\n\n\nI had never done something like this before. Others had. It wasn't impossible. It couldn't be. With the streets empty and quiet and the sun bright on the buildings to the right and the world in shadow on the left I felt horribly alone. The sea would be worse.\n\n\n\"A few days.\" I said. \"At most. No more than five.\"\n\n\n\"Sounds grand.\" His voice shook.\n\n\n\"I'll call you in a few hours. I have to get a map...\"\n\n\n\"Be safe. Wear a helmet.\"\n\n\n\"I will,\" I promised. \"I'll talk to you soon.\"\n\n\n\nHe agreed and rung off.\n\n\n I pushed off the pavement and turned home.",
"Day Zero will forever be etched in my mind.\n\nI was just getting out of the shower, drying myself off and preparing for another day. Another day of the same routine: shower, eat, work, repeat. I wasn't thrilled about where my life was, but I also couldn't complain. I had just begun thinking about the upcoming camping trip, my escape from work for a week, and everything I still needed to get ready. I had the tent, the sleeping bags, needed to get some charco-\n\nLike a sledgehammer, something slammed my chest harder than I ever could have imagined. But the force didn't knock me back. It was almost like I had absorbed the blow and with nowhere else to go, began to spread. The whole of my body, every muscle, contracted to the point of snapping. I began falling forward and with the last bit of strength I had, managed to put my knee out and prevent myself from smashing face-first into the tile.\n\n*What the hell was going on?*\n\nI couldn't move, and I don't mean in the figurative sense. I was a rock-solid lump of flesh and bone, stuck to the spot I was in. I couldn't unclench my toes or fingers, nor did I even have the strength to open raise my eyelids.\n\nI was blind, confused, and scared. My mind, the only piece of me not bound by these invisible shackles, began running wildly through all the possible scenarios.\n\n*Did I shock myself somehow?* I was in our tiny bathroom after all, dripping wet. It was possible, but now the initial pain was subsiding and I was still frozen. If that were the case, I would either still be in tremendous pain or able to move. I tried moving my arm, but to no avail.\n\n*Heart attack? Stroke?* Those didn't seem to fit either. I had never seen either in real life, but in the movies people always collapse. *Am I... am I paralyzed?* That should have crumpled me as well. I tried to think of more possibilities, but my thoughts were getting fuzzy. My mental images, my last shred of freedom, began to blur and dim and one last thought bubbled up before the darkness took over.\n\n*I can't feel myself breathe.*\n\n-\n\nI awoke to a sharp, sudden pain in my chest. AIR. Sweet, delicious oxygen had somehow made it back into my lungs. Every breath was a struggle, but I could feel sensation returning to my chest. Images of what had just occurred washed over me, inundating my mind, but I didn't care. I focused on each precious intake of air, happy for now that I was simply alive.\n\nThen I felt it let go. The tendrils of whatever force had held me began to lessen and fade away. I collapsed on the floor and just lay there, a grown man crying his eyes out with relief. I still felt stiff, but I could FEEL.\n\nI lurched to my feet. I had to find my wife. It might blindside her, but I needed to wrap myself in her embrace. I stumbled as quick as I could down the stairs, heavily assisted by the wooden railing. As my feet hit the downstairs floor, I found my legs again. Nearly running now, I rushed over to our office where she spent most mornings preparing for the day. She was as tidy and organized as I was messy and forgetful.\n\nIt was actually what brought us together in the first place. I had hosted a movie-watching get-together at my college dorm, and she ended up coming along with one of our mutual friends. My place was a mess, but I cleared out some dirty clothes and fast food bags and figured good enough. I wasn't even that put together myself, throwing on the same jeans I'd worn for awhile and an old t-shirt.\n\nHow she ever saw through all that is beyond me. But we hit it off during the movie, and she hung around afterwards to help me pick up. Now, eight years later, I'm much more sanitary that I had been, but she was still there, encouraging me and always helping to steer me in the right direction.\n\nWith most of my feeling back, I now confidently strode over to the kitchen. If she wasn't in the office, she'd be getting a head start putting up the dishes we had washed the night before.\n\n\"Janie?\", I said as I came around the corner. Then, for the second time that day, I froze. She was hunched over, hands clenching the edge of the countertop.\n\n*Oh no, it hit her too.* But something was very different than what I had experienced. Her skin was... gray and unnatural. I should have stopped then, should have let that be my last vision of her, but I couldn't. I knew I could save her, I had to be able to!\n\nI rushed over and regretted it instantly. Her face, which had always been so full of color with her soft, pink lips and cute freckles, was the same sickening, dull gray. And that wasn't even the worst of it. This...this... statue before me didn't wear the laughing smile my wife usually had or even a peaceful face of contentedness, like she would have when snuggled next to me on the couch. This was a face of pure anguish and terror.\n\nOut of the deafening quiet, the ring of my cellphone burst through. Half-snapping me back to my senses, I had the delusion that I could still save her. I checked for a heartbeat. Nothing. I tried to give her mouth-to-mouth, and that's when I knew. Because I couldn't. Everything about her was solid and I realized my nightmare. She was gone. The light of my life, extinguished for no damn reason.\n\nThe phone rang again and again and in my anger I grabbed it in order to smash it and stop the infernal ringing. I couldn't do much, but I could destroy this damn device and regain what little peace I hoped to find. As I reared back, I noticed a familiar face on the caller ID.\n\n*Alex?* I brought the phone down and answered it.\n\n\"...Hello?\", my voice cracked. I didn't hear anything on the other end of the line for a moment, then the sound of crying and a breath of relief came through.\n\n\"You're alive. I was beginning to think I was the only one.\" The meaning of that statement flew by me, as I was trying to find the words to describe the personal hell I was going through.\n\n\"Alex, she's gone.\" I heard him swear.\n\n\"I'm so sorry. But we-\"\n\n\"I don't even know what happened! One minute I'm in the show-\"\n\n\"Braden.\"\n\n\"-er, then I can't move and almost pass out and the same thing must-\"\n\n\"Braden!\"\n\n\"have happened-\"\n\n\"BRADEN!\"\n\n\"WHAT!?\"\n\n\"I know this is tough, and you're freaking out, but we have BIGGER ISSUES.\"\n\n\"What the hell do you mean by that?\"\n\n\"Have you gone outside?\" The question was so absurd that I couldn't even answer. \"Go outside and listen.\"\n\nNumbed, I walked outside. I was beginning to get angry at my brother, because everything seemed fine out there. *Can't he see what I'm going through right now!?* Then I noticed it. It was quiet. Sure the sounds of grasshoppers and birds filled my ears, but nothing else. We live close to a highway, and it was always abuzz with traffic. There was none of that now. No cars were driving down the street. My next-door neighbor Terrance was outside though and... not moving.\n\nI didn't dare go over to him. Looking back that was cowardly, I suppose, but I didn't want the facts to be adding up the way they were.\n\n\"...Alex, what's going on?\", my voice trembling.\n\nHis was shaking too now. \"I don't know, but I need you up here.\"\n\nI made a horrible, croaking sound - the closest thing I could get to a laugh. \"You live in Seattle and you just want me to pop over from down here in Houston? Sure, I'll be there in a jiffy.\" I was beginning to think this was all some sort of sick practical joke.\n\n\"Do you remember what Dad's job was when we were little, before he found a job in-town?\"\n\n\"Yeah, he worked on a fishing boat. Why?\" He was always gone for a few months at a time, but he always more than made up for the missed time with his boys after getting back.\n\n\"I don't think that was an... *entirely accurate* description of his job. Before he died, we had some strange talks that didn't make sense until today.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"Just trust me... it sounds even stranger than what I've already told you, and I have a few things to show you. In person. Will you make the drive?\"\n\nI was inclined to say no. I needed time to grieve, to sulk, to wallow in the self-pity I was beginning to feel creep over me. Alex broke in at just the right time, though.\n\n\"I need you.\"\n\nI couldn't believe I was agreeing to this. \"Fine\", I answered with my jaw clenched. None of this was his fault, and so far he was the only connection I had to anyone now that she was gone.\n\n\"Ok\", he breathed the word out in relief, \"This might be a wild ride. For all I know, it's just you and me now. Keep me updated on what you see or find.\" I heard him pause as if he was going to hang up. \"I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too, Alex. I'll see you soon.\" I hung up the phone.\n\nEven though I was in a bit of a haze, I was able to pack fairly quickly, seeing as I had been planning on going camping anyway. Those supplies would be good to have on the road trip, because I had no idea what to expect. Before leaving, I went downstairs to the kitchen one more time.\n\nIt hurt me to do so, but I had to look on her face one last time. My eyes saw her pained expression, but I forced myself to remember all the happy times we had together. The first time we kissed, her laughing at my stupid jokes by the water's edge, and how she felt as we wrapped ourselves together in bed. I would never forget, and if there was anything to be done, I would never stop trying.\n\nI gave her one last, long kiss on the lips and walked out the door. There's was still no human movement anywhere. I put my truck in reverse and backed out, then stopped to take one more look at our house. I wasn't sure if I'd ever see it again, but I might as well get started on my journey. Slowly, I put the car in drive and headed out.\n\nI hadn't seen my twin face-to-face in almost two years. It had been too long.\n",
"I jumped out of bed as the sudden sound of cars crashing and explosions ripped through my window. More like smashed my windows in. \n\n\"What the fuck is going on!?\" I yelled to no one in particular. And I got the answer as soon as I looked out of what was once a nice window onto what was once a nice street in what I once thought was such a lovely neighborhood.\n\nChaos reigned in the streets. Everywhere cars where slamming into each other, buildings, poles. There was at least two planes visible in the sky falling. My thoughts immediately turned to 9/11. I had watched those planes streak through the sky ending in the death of over 3000 of my fellow citizens. \n\nHowever, this was different. These planes appeared to be nosediving. In a panicked state, I ran to the phone and dialed 911. It began to ring and just kept ringing. Must be a lot of people calling. I am not the only one who would have called, right?\n\n\"Let me not tie up the line.\" I muttered to myself. And then I called my mother on her cell phone. There was no answer there as well after 4 rings. \n\nI walked over to the television and turned it on to see if there was anything on the news about the planes crashing. And then, the worst thing that could have happened happened. I was staring at NY1 news and was looking at the stone effigy of the anchor. And there was no mistaking it. He was made of stone. More like marble. I switched to another news channel, and another, and another... all had the same image. The anchors were frozen. Or the weatherperson. Or a journalist. After trying all 1 billion news channels that cable television feels I need to have and seeing the same thing, I turned off the TV and sat for a moment.\n\nIt hit me real hard. The thought of my own family. I rushed back to the phone and tried to make another call. I called my mother again. Still no answer. Next I tried my father. Then my sister who were rooming together with her school friend Sophia in San Fran. Still no answer. I called my brother last and finally, finally someone picked up.\n\n\"Jon! Are you OK!?\" I yelled into the line. \n\n\"Yes. What about you, Gabe? Are you ok? You sound ok. What about mom?! Where you able to reach her?\" Jon replied. He shotgunned the questions out so fast that I knew instantly he knew something was wrong as well.\n\n\"No, I haven't been able to. I haven't heard from her, dad, or Liz. Have you turned on the news?\" I asked him. \"Have you seen what happened here!\"\n\n\"There too?\" Jon replied. \"That was quick. You have to try to reach Mom and Dad. Ill keep trying to reach Liz...\" Jon replied. I heard him mumble something under his breath about hoping they ate the cake...\n\n\"Jon, what are you talking about 'That was quick.'? What is going on?\" I asked, starting to have a weird feeling grow in my stomach.\n\n\"Gabe, don't be naive.\" he came back with. I heard a sound of patronization in his voice, one which I remembered hearing when we were kids and he did something really bad and WE were in trouble. \"Remember that cake I sent you on your birthday? It had an kind of protective agent in it. You ate it, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, I ate it, but what do you mean a protective agent?\" \n\n\"Ok, let me spell it out for you then. I did this. I created this. I spread it. You know, those conspiracy nuts had a great idea. Just put the juice into the exhaust of a jet and there you have it. Worldwide! Boom! Ingenious, right?\" Jon said. The accent from his Brooklyn upbringing came out at the end. \"You know, I would have thought you would appreciate this, considering how bad this world fucked up our family. Just some revenge for shit gone wrong, you know. Now its just us, or, should have been all of us, but I guess they didn't eat their cake.\"\n",
"*Ring Ring Ring*. I picked up my cell phone.\n\n\"Yello this is Gare-bear who whom am I speaking?\" I said to the mysterious caller.\n\n\"Gary it's me, use your eff'n caller ID... something crazy just happened man.. I'm scared,\" my brother Harry, or perhaps someone who could replicate his voice flawlessly, spoke through the amazing device. Cell phones are truly amazing, especially if they work the way the man tells us they work, what with all that satellite mumbo jumbo. That being said, I'm a skeptic on the topic, I find it more likely it's created from some occult technology that is cent-\n\nMy stream of thoughts were interrupted by the supposed voice of 'Harry' being emitted from the demonic device, \"Gary? Gary? Are you high? Man I thought you promised you were going to quit... Gary?\"\n\n\"No, I'm here, but hey listen, I think we should find another way to communicate, I don't like this cellphone thing man it's not natural,\" I responded with my typical sensible nature taking the forefront of expression I was projecting of myself through this conversation. It's interesting how such little things can say so much, case in point my desire to not speak on cell phones. I feel like with the proper analysis you can come to many conclusions on my character, most of them being of virtuous origins, like for examp-.\n\nMy thoughts were again interrupted, \"GARY!? Hello!? What do you mean? I don't have time for this... Look man.. Everyone around me just got turned to stone and I'm really freaking out, Gary??\" Harry said, obviously stressed. My bro needed to learn to go with the flow..\n\nI tried to be as calming as I could, \"Look man, it's not a big deal, I'm actually stoned right now as a matter of fact.. What you need to do dawg is-,\" before once again being interrupted; Harry was a poor conversationalist.\n\n\"No you fucking idiot, they are like turned to stone!? With no explanation... and get this, I just turned on CNN and the news anchor is sitting there, complete stone! I think this is a wide scale thing, we should get together and look for others who were unaffected.\" Harry said like he was some sort of go getter army person.\n\n\"That's amazing! I thought CNN was a servant of the man, it's good to know they stepped up their game to help the legalization! look man, I gotta go Adventure Time is starting, call me later if you're still having a bad trip or whatever... peace and love.\" I hung up the phone. I couldn't deal with that energy vampire right now, besides, it was a new episode and rumor had it Fin and Jake were gonna get high.\n\n/r/PsychoWritingPrompts\n\n"
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[WP] Every lie you tell spawns a corresponding truth in another universe. One lie in particular has snowballed into something so momentous, that an envoy is sent from that universe to confront you.
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"\"I've abused a lot of things in my short time being alive. I'm not even a quarter-century old, and I have lied to a lot of people. My self-defense mechanism is to lie. Lie about what I am doing, lie about what I'm going to do, lie about what I've already done. Who will care, who will honestly care that I lied? It's a null question, because they're never going to find out; or at least that is what I tell myself. What a poor leap in logic.\n\nI have no things to tell that are worth telling anymore. My future is all pretty much a lie. Or is it? It'll become true once I set out and do the things I lied about and said I would or did. Until then, I'm just living a step away from my lies, half-wishing I hadn't said them, half-wishing I would work to make them true.\n\nIs a lie no longer a lie, if you make the lie become true?\n\nAnd if you can't make them true, do they go away? Should I forget about them? Or am I burdened to carry the weight of a past man's lies? Am I still the man that I was in the past? Will I be a different man in the future?\"\n\n\"Why do you say that to me?\" the therapist responded.\n\n\"Are you even real?\" he asked.\n\n\"What do you think?\" responded the therapist.\n\n\"I think that if you were real, you would have something better to say than that,\" he said.\n\n\"Is it because if I was real I would have something better to say than that, that you came to me?\" responded the therapist.\n\nYou're not real. There's no way this is real. Why would he respond like that? He sounds like he's just responding in ambiguous ways, without saying anything with value. Why am I here?\n\nHe stood up, walked to the door, and left. He could hear the therapist, through the door, saying, \"I'll ask the questions, if you don't mind!\"\n\nHe stopped. I do mind, he said to himself. The days when he controlled his destiny, when he wasn't aware things weren't always a step-above his thoughts, those were the days. I have to do this.\n\nHe opened the door, and walked back into the room. He sat down on the couch. This is a couch. Cool to the touch, comfortable, and it has a pleasant aroma of fresh leather.\n\n\"Earlier, you said if I was real I would have something better to say than that?\" continued the therapist.\n \n\"Yes,\" he responded.\n\n\"I see... Well, what makes you believe this is so?\" asked the therapist.\n\nHe squinted his eyes. This is such bullshit. I don't even know his name. He's just talking at me, asking ambiguous questions.\n\n\"Maybe your plans have something to do with this,\" said the therapist.\nHis heart dropped. Paranoia set in. He knows.",
"\"Ummmmm.......he ran into my fist!..........he's just that stupid!\"\n\nOf course this was a complete lie. Mofucka deserved it, mikey thought. Hed learnt to lie after 'The Job'. \"I fell off the building accidently\" or \"I was caught in the crossfire\" were common things to be heard from his mouth.\n\nLittle did he know in universe 888888888890976321348777777712 delta prime, chaos ensued. The man really was that stupid. Later in life when he settled down, that mans genes were passed down to about a third of the world. All the future writers, scientists, engineers, philosiphers were gone. Instead they were replaced by thugs whos only concern was the nearest womans 'sweeeeeeet ass booty'.....or the nearest cocaine dealership. The average life expectancy was about 45 due to accidental deaths skyrocketing in the past 500 years.\n\n\"This must stop!\"Said the supreme. \"Christ on a bike! All the fucking people are dumb as shite and nothings being done!\"\n\"Ok master\" whimpered a voice from the back \"I'll send someone\"\n\n\"Im sorry sir, but can you please not punch him.......PLEASEEEEEE!?!?!?!?!\"\n\"Fine...fine....fine......shit yo dat be trippy!\"",
"Usually when some crazy homeless guy comes up to me on the street, I just ignore him. If you ask me now why I stopped for this guy, I couldn't tell you.\n\n\"You,\" he said, \"I know who you are.\"\n\nI raised my hand slightly to tell my body guard it was alright. \n\n\"Yes sir, I'm your local Senate representative.\" I put on my best politician face. You never know when voters are watching.\n\n\"You've built your whole life on lies.\" Ok, now it's time to go.\n\n\"I'm sorry you feel that way, sir,\" I said as I started to walk away.\n\n\"Your lies have taken everything from me. My wife, my kids, my home. Everything burned because of you.\" I've been called a lot of things, but never a murderer.\n\n\"I'm sorry?\" I should have just kept walking.\n\n\"Your lies become the truth in my world, don't you understand?\" Yeah, I understand. You're a fucking mental case.\n\nWhat I don't understand is why I haven't been able to sleep the last few nights. I mean, the guy was blabbering nonsense. But how come I can't stop thinking about it? \n\n\"You started the war, don't you get it? The democrats are trying to destroy America!\"",
"The streetlamps usual brightness was being swallowed by heavy falling snow. \n\nLeena had at one point been the worst offender with lying. Lying about nothing in particular, all the time, and always in trouble. Then she hit puberty and the entire idea of lying became unfathomable. So she was blatantly truthful, and at the same time so naive about why lying can sometimes be a useful tool for the right situations. As much as Leena tried, lying worked out very seldom. \n\nOn this particular day, Leena woke up next to her very much older boss. \nWith one hand, he held her long hair between his fingers, and the other held her hips to his. What time had he come to bed, she asked, and he answered it was just past one thirty. She could have sworn that somebody had been leaving the house at four am, even though he swore up and down he hadn't been outside nor even awake that late. What time did she wake up, exactly? Four twenty seven in the am. No way, hush, that's so ridiculous. He tugged on her hair a bit and in the process of pulling her neck to his mouth his phone rang. \n\nIt was the office. They were both being called into their respective positions. He was the highest ranked in his branch and she worked just under him in a laboratory setting. Everybody knew there was something between them, but the two never said anything about the other officially. Roommates, at best. Of course she slipped up time and time again, because it was in her demeanor to admit the truth before realizing she was doing it. \n\nAnd it so happened, this one particular day, she slipped up in the cafeteria where there were visitors with specially marked badges. All she mentioned was that she had indeed retrieved a package, but there was no name, and that it had been dropped off at the wrong address, so she wrote return to sender and sent it on its way. So the package was indeed gone. The new-hire she spoke too seemed exasperated at the news of this but they continued to converse and they both finished eating together. \n\nShe went to the lab to continue her independent research project, funds provided by her company. She continued running experiments with lasers and other machinery, before finding what she knew was an amazing anomaly. \n\nShe stayed up all night, texted her boss she'd be home later, ran more lab tests, and finally was left in shock. What the hell were those particles doing? She had to go home, it was late. Perhaps she was wrong, she needed a second and third opinion before she could conclusively say she had discovered something amazing.\n\n",
"“You were masturbating”\n\n“No I wasn’t”\n\n“Yes, you were. It’s ok, just go in there and tell your mother the truth”\n\n“I wasn’t masturbating”\n\nLandon stood his ground. The past five minutes had been a blur. It started normally, with him masturbating after school. Then, the worst happened. His mother walked in and saw him. She didn’t see what was on his computer screen, but she saw him red in the face, under the covers behind his laptop screen. She quickly closed the door and left.\n \nLandon had gathered himself, and decided to do what any rational man would do. He decided to lie. He walked into the kitchen like nothing had happened. His mom awkwardly asked what he was doing. He looked her dead in the eye and said “I was doing some research on genocide for a presentation. We have to give a report in three days on modern day challenges facing the world.” His mom eyed him suspiciously, but decided that denial was better than the alternative, so she nodded and said “that’s nice”.\n\nBillions of lightyears away, in a parallel universe identical to our own, a series of events was set into place. \n\nA young man named Landon was in his room, doing research on genocide. He decided that genocide was an inexpressible tragedy, and started devoting more and more time to the cause. He began by writing several articles and submitting them to his school newspaper. Then, he held a rally in the town square to draw attention to the cause. This attracted the attention of a local advocacy group, which recruited him. He started doing overseas mission work in Africa, specifically in the region of Darfur.\n \nBut one day, his overseas work just wasn’t enough. He realized that only violence could conquer violence. He began to gather an army. He started to turn terrorist groups against one another with planted propaganda and rumors. He imported guns, and recruited villages from all around. His rhetoric won him hundreds of thousands, until his army was vast and strong. Then, he conquered the conquerors. He created the “Lords of Africa”, a freedom fighting group. They conquered all of north eastern Africa, then the Midwest, until they had conquered all but South Africa, which they developed treaties with. \n\nAfter the war, Landon was called in front of the criminal court for recruiting child soldiers and breaking international war laws. He submitted to spending five years in prison, but 6 months into his sentence, his chief general was killed by a member of the Mexican cartel, who had gotten into a squabble over the opium trade. \n\nLandon escaped from prison, and went to war with the cartel. The ensuing war enveloped three continents, and took millions of lives. Finally, one of the cartel leaders, knowing the battle was all but lost, got access to a series of nuclear warheads, and set them off over several parts of Africa. This caused a series of earthquakes and tsunamis, which led to worldwide flooding and destruction, threatening the extinction of the human race. A group of secret researchers in Finland, called only the “Men of Wisdom”, learned that in another universe, the young Landon had only lied about researching genocide, and knew if they could somehow get to him, they could keep this Landon from sparking such a chain of events. So, they used a wormhole generator and traveled as fast as they could. Now they were standing in Landons room, right after his mother had left. \n\n“Son, it isn’t a big deal, you have no idea what’s at stake here. Just tell her you were masturbating”. \n\n“I wasn’t masturbating”.\n\n“Landon, this may be difficult to understand right now, but if you don’t tell her you were masturbating, millions of people will die.”\n\n“Ugh. Fine then. I’ll tell her”.\n\nLandon told the truth that day. And when the Finnish researchers returned to their universe, they found that all was well. \n",
"\"Im not a liar. No really.\"\n*Was that pause noticable? Shit probably was, just roll with it, dont backtrack. *\n\nI lean back to stall once again and let my eyes wander through my surrondings; to calm down and get my bearings, to find something to draw inspiration from. This uncomfortable room. Dim lights. Nineties furniture. No windows, or at least no light coming from them. Two doors on each side, with comically large silver padlocks as if to eliminate the hope of escape. The sound of a grandfather clock, but far enough in shadow that I cant make out the time. An ornament lamp illuminating the velvet carpet. Illuminating the dress shoes and the dark green armchair in front of me. Not illuminating the Man who brought me here.\n\nHe rested with his hands clasped, indexes on his lips. I haven't heard him say a word this entire time. I didnt even hear him sneak up on me; a hand on my shoulder, a note placed in my palm, and by the time my nerves had recovered I was... here. *Dont look at the note- thats a nervous habit.* I already know what it says. *'Densie Gare - You are being tried for the series of lies told on Mon 7/8/09 and its subsequent events. I will represent you, please speak your case.'* I crush the card in my hand as I finish formulating my story.\n\n\"It wasn't my fault, I was protecting a friend.\" I begin. How much does he know? Has he been watching me?? Words stick in my throat and my pause ends up longer than expected. *Go for something generic, see what he knows* \"Nick said I should hold on to the money and not tell anyone about it, and I ended up having to use it unexpectedly. So I couldn't admit to Jayce or anyone else to having it.\" \n\nThe Man fails to respond. He doesnt react to either of the name drops. If his face or his fingers twitched in the darkness, I must have missed it. Its hard not being able to tell if someone believes you or not. Its like trying to crack a bank safe from a mile away. Another long pause goes by, grandfather clock painstaking keeping time.\n\nSuddenly his hands lower and the chair creaks, and instantly I tense up, preparing for his answer. The sleeves of a crisp grey suit graze the circle of light, white shirt and a dark tie. He leans forward slowly. \n\n\"I want to hear about Infinite Potential. \"\n\nHe says calmly without a hint of commanding and proceeds to lean back into his armchair, crossing his legs.\n\nHe knows everything.\n\nI tell him about the pyramid scheme. I tell him about the money I loaned from anyone who would give me. I tell him about the supplies, the people we've got signed up, about the court I had to lie in, I tell him everything because only three people know the code name Infinite Potential. One is me. The other two are my aliases. \n\nAnother long pause; I can't stand these; I can't take the not knowing; what does he want from me??? \"I haven't started it yet,\" I start, pulling myself forward, maybe I can make some kind of deal- \"I still have the supplies, I can sell them and make at least 78% on the-\" I stop. The Man is saying something under his breath. It takes my heart to stop beating in my ears to realise he's laughing. My body chills over, not for the first time today. He gets up, and as if on cue the lights brighten with him and the room feels... warmer.\n\n\"I was wrong about you.\" He continues to chuckle. \"You're a terrible liar. You shouldn't try things like that.\" Something flashes from his hand and my usually quick reflexes fail me- an object bounces off my palm and onto the floor. A small gold key. \"You're free to go. Don't worry about things from here. The door will lead you back to your house.\" \n\n*I'm... free to go?* I pick up the key gently and grasp it firmly, still warm to the touch. I dont want to question it but... free to go? I look at the Man another time as he pulls out a silver key and smiles in my direction. I look down once more at the note in my hand, and the key in the other. I toss the note and walk firmly to the door on my right. I half expect the key to not fit but it does, the padlock opens, and I'm caught by surprise by the blinding light. I raise my other arm instinctively. Was it this hot when I left\n\n\n...\nThe Man walks through the door and straightens his tie; habit. As it closes silently behind him, he cant help a small grin. Sometimes chopping down the saplings makes less noise than the oaks. He brushes past a eavesdropping young woman as he starts down the hall. The clop of his shoes and the scribbles of her pencil are the only sounds dominating the room. She notes; she balances and tallies the truths told and the lies saved by his work. Little by little the scales will balance. \n\n\"You shouldn't lie during the confrontation.\" A meaningless guesture. Similar to when someone reprimands you for getting them something rare via 'non-standard' means, but accepts it anyway. In this case, the good of his job far outweighes a joke here or there.\n\n\"You can put it on the tally.\" The Man answers. \"I only told one anyway.\"\n\nNote- Author's note here, Im on mobile and I haven't written in a long while, thanks for reading! ",
"“This is bigger than you could have possibly imagined,” said the stoic man standing in front of them, “you don’t understand what you’ve done.”\n\n“You’re right, I don’t,” Steven looked around at all the other patrons in the restaurant, and then across the table at his wife, Dawn. \n\nHe leaned in close to the man and asked, “What exactly did I do, waiter?”\n\nThe gentlemen clicked his tongue against his teeth in exasperation, and exclaimed, “I am not your waiter!” \n\n“You’re not?” Steven asked.\n\nIt was easy to see why he was confused. The gentleman in front of them stood straight and tall, and dressed himself in what strikingly resembled the tuxedos worn by the wait staff that now all stopped and stared intently at the scene unfolding in the middle of their restaurant, along with every other patron ate alongside them.\n\n“No, I am, most certainly not, “the man replied. \n\nHe pulled up the chair next to Steven and gestured towards it.\n\n“May I?” he asked.\n\nSteven looked at Dawn, who shrugged back at him, before extending his hand out towards the chair.\n\n“By all means,” he replied.\n\nThe gentleman sat down, and introduced himself as Steven reached to sip the water in front of him.\n\nHe looked around at all the stares directly at them from around the room.\nHe quickly cleared his throat and clapped his hands.\n\n“Now, now, people. As you were.”\n\nThe room erupted back into motion, and Arthur looked back over to Steven and Dawn.\n\n“I am Arthur Simmons, personal liaison to Queen Dawn Reynolds. Her royal majesty holds sway over our entire universe.”\n\n“What,” he screamed as he sprayed water all over the table. He looked incredulously at his wife.\n\n“Dawn?”\n\nShe just sat there, mouth agape, and shrugged her shoulders one more time.\n\nArthur responded almost immediately.\n\n“Ah. Well, I can see that neither of you has any idea of what has happened here.”\n\nHe looked over at Dawn.\n\n“Remember when you were a little girl, probably about 5 years old, and your Mom bought you a little wand and tiara?”\n\nDawn looked at him, nodding in agreement, her mouth still wide open.\n\n“Remember how much you loved that tiara, and you would run and dance and spin to your heart’s content while wearing it?”\n\nThe words may have been connecting with Dawn, but she still wasn’t past the shock of being mentioned as a princess. She nodded once more. \n\nArthur sighed, “Pick your mouth up, young lady.”\n\nHe reached over and pushed up on her chin.\n\n“That’s better. Now, where were we? Ah yes, sometime that summer your mother asked you while you were playing who you were. Do you remember that?”\n\nDawn shook her head, no.\n\n“Ah. That’s terribly sad. Allow me to remind you. You looked your mother in the eye and told her, ‘I am Princess Dawn Reynolds, Princess of the entire universe! And Poof! So it was.”\n\nDawn stared blankly at Arthur. After a few moments of awkward silence, Steven started laughing.\n\n“Oh, come on, man,” he laughed, “who put you up to this?”\n\nArthur looked at both of them, confused. \n\n“Seriously, was it Frank? Mark?”\n\nSteven looked around the room and called out.\n\n“Very funny, guys. Ha ha ha. Guys?”\n\nArthur interrupted him, “I assure you that there’s no one there.”\n\nSteven gave him a look and gestured over to his wife, “Oh come on, Dawn is not a Queen. I’d think I’d know if I was King Steven.”\n\nArthur burst out laughing, doubling over onto the table.\n\n“What did I say,” asked Steven.\n\nArthur took a few moments to catch his breath again.\n\n“No, no, no, dear boy. Your Dawn is not the Queen. Allow me to introduce you to the Queen.”\n\nArthur clapped his hands, and trumpets blared from the entrance to the room. The whole room went silent as everyone gazed upon the doorway.\n\nThe person that entered through the doorway would hardly be called a Queen by traditional standards. She wore tight leather pants that lead into a tighter fitting blouse. It covered a bra that was, perhaps, two sizes too small, and, as a result, it looked like her breasts could burst out at any time. \n\nQuite contrary to the smallness of her clothes, her hair was larger than life. So blonde it was almost white in color, it seemed to be frozen in place, and a cursory whiff would tell you that it was held in place with hairspray.\n\nUnfortunately, that cursory whiff would also bring with it the scent of cigarette smoke, wafting from the tip of the cigarette being held in place between her ruby red lips. The cigarette was stained red in various places, obvious remnants of the terrible amount of lipstick she had slathered on. Lipstick was just the icing on the cake, though. Makeup was caked on to every crevice it could possibly fit.\n\nThis was not a Queen. Nor was it Dawn. But the resemblance was uncanny.\n\nCertain men recognized her as such, though, and men that must have been members of her entourage bowed down to the floor as she walked by.\n\nShe walked over to the table and reached her hand out to Steven. He started at it. As a response, the Queen shook it vigorously in his direction. Steven continued to stare at it. The Queen practically had to smack him in the fact with it before he recognized the gesture and kissed it. Bringing his lips away, he spat in another direction. She tasted awful.\n\nShe sat in the chair that Arthur vacated when he went to the floor to greet the Queen. She looked none too pleased as she looked over at Steven and Dawn. She then looked down at Arthur, took the cigarette out from her mouth, snuffed it out on the table in front of her, and shoved it in between her cleavage.\n\n“Aaarrrthhhurrr,” she asked. He voice was high and nasally. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard to many of the people there.\n\n“Did you ask him yet?”\n\n“No, your Highness.”\n\nThe Queen sighed and replied, “Alllriight, I’ll do it.”\n\nFor the first time, all evening, Dawn finally had something to say.\n\n“Wait. Wait. Wait,” she interrupted, “Just wait a minute. Who the hell are you?”\n\nDawn stared at the Queen. The Queen produced a gnarly smile and looked at Arthur again.\n\n“You mean you didn’t tell them,” she asked.\n\n“Tell them what,” Arthur asked in reply.\n\n“This is an isolated universe, you idiot.”\n\n“Oh, my god. Forgive me, your Highness,” Arthur replied as he dipped low to the ground, “I had forgotten.”\n\nThe Queen looked back at Dawn. \n\n“Never ask a man to do a woman’s job. Am I right,” the Queen asked, snoring and laughing at the prospect.\n\nShe looked back at Arthur.\n\n“Arthur, will you get me something to drink, please,” she asked him.\n\n“Yes, your Highness,” he replied as he scrambled up and ran off.\n\nThe Queen continued, “Darling, our universes are connected. As hard as it may be to believe, every lie someone tells here becomes the truth to us. I was once a little girl, just like you. But one day, you told your Mother that you were the princess of the entire galaxy, and, well…here I am. Remind me to thank for that, by that way. Not now…some other time. We’re busy now.”\n\nDawn tried to take in everything the Queen had just said. She sat there quietly, starting at the table until Steven interrupted. \n\n“Hey…Queenie,” he said, laughing through his teeth, “can you lie to me and tell me that my Dawn is Queen of the Universe.”\n\nThe Queen looked back at Steven.\n\n“Sorry, it doesn’t work like that. One way, you know? Too bad.”\n\nSteven looked back at her defeated.\n\nDawn picked this moment to interject again. She looked intently at the Queen.\n\n“But you. Me.”\n\nShe pointed at the Queen and herself.\n\n“Look at us. I don’t understand.”\n\nThe Queen understood in an instant. She pointed at herself and pulled on her blouse a little bit.\n\n“You mean, this,” she asked, “that’s an easy one.”\n\nThe Queen looked over at Steven. \n\n“This is thanks to that pig over there.”\n\nAnd as she said it, she swung and smacked Steven on the arm. He shrunk back into his chair.\n\n“Me,” he asked.\n\n“Yes, you,” the Queen noted, pointing her finger in his direction,” do you remember that time in college, when your frat buddies asked for details about your precious little Dawn?”\n\n\n",
"\"Haha, I'm busy destroying the universe right now.\" I quipped as Sarah kept trying to get me to leave the house. We finished up our small talk and I was finally able to return to the computer when I my doorbell rang.\n\nThere's no way she showed up here to get me out herself I thought as I made my way to the door.\n\nThere was a tall man in a dark suit and sharp black sunglasses standing at the door motionless. \"Can I help you\" I asked as I peeked out. He immediately spoke \"Listen Erick, you have to undo that lie you just told right now.\" \"What?\" I gasped. Surely this is some prank or something. I peered past the man and there was a black suburban with tinted windows parked out-front. \"You don't understand, un-tell that lie you just made now!\" He was becoming visible irate and the door on the suburban swung open. A woman in heels although dressed the same as the man came out and he turned to face her, she started furiously pointing at her watch. He turned back to me speaking yet again with a booming voice. \"You're going to kill everyone you need to undo that lie!\" \"This is starting to get ridiculous.\" I slammed the door and locked it and stayed listening with my ear against the door. \n\nI heard the lady \"Don't even think about it.. We can still fix it..\"\n\nThe man spoke: \"No.. It's too late. I have to.\"\n\nHe took a deep breath and then almost too softly to hear \"Erick is currently dead and no longer destroying the universe.\"\n\nI stood up from listening at the door and wondered, what in the hell is going on and how does he know my name. Then my chest started feeling tight, almost too tight. ",
"I wake up to the loud banging at my door. I look over to my alarm clock and it's 2 in the God damn morning.\n\n\"Nobodies fucking here!\" I yell in hopes they go away. I curse to myself as the knocking now gets louder and more frequent. \n\"Who the hell could it be this early in the morning?\" I grumble as I shuffle our of bed.\n\nI open the door and I swear to you this wack job had at least three different kinds of glasses on, a deepest purple jacket I have ever seen and a fucking kilt.\n\n\"What the fuck d-.\"\n\nI get cut off as kilt man barges right past me and makes him self comfortable on my couch. \n\n\"My name is Ranberry Faliszek, and you sir have have messed up big time.\" Kilt man says without breaking stride. \"We have been monitoring you for a very long time Mr. Gabe.\" He picks up his green bifocal looking glasses and puts them on. \"Oh yes\" he says as he turns to me with a smile \" we know exactly who you ate and what you have been doing.\"\n\nFuck. I start to panic wondering what this weird guy is talking about.\n\n\"Your lies\" he continues, \" have a stage power Mr. Gabe. You see, the lies you say here actually become truth on other universes.\"\nMy previous panic vanishes instantly and a new one arises as I remember I just let a complete lunatic into my house.\n\n\"I did expect that reaction Mr. Gabe,\" he says as he switches over to his binocular type glasses.\" Remember that lie you told mother on the third grade that you did and will do the dishes forever?\"\n\nThe previous panic starts to arise again as it was only my mother and I there when I said it.\n\n\"Well in another universe they rejoice as they never have to wash dishes again! They are always cleaned!\" He exclaimed.\n\"How about the time you told your Megan you could swim but really couldn't during spring break in highschool?\"\n\nNow I needed to sit down as kilt man fires off lies I have said in public and in private. It begins to scare me not only because he knows of all my lies but the fact that I am starting to believe they change other universes.\n\n\"Why are you telling me this\" I finally being myself to ask.\n\n\"I am here because one of your lies has done something we have not foreseen and it is causing quite the problem.\" He says as his mood starts to darken. \"Last week you had said 'I am going to kill myself'. This is off course not true because you are sitting here today.\" He mood takes a sharp turn for the worse as he springs up and starts pacing. \" Mr. Gabe we thought nothing of it when we first heard you say it. It was a grave mistake on our part. It was only a few at first but then it started spreading rapidly.\" Hating the pronoun fans I ask him what he was talking about. \n\n\"They are killing themselves Mr. Gabe. Not a few of them, but all of them. We have never seen a lie affect me that one universe before.\" He turns to me with sorrowful eyes and continues, \" it may even come to here.\"\n\nThe gravity of what he was saying shook me on a way I have never felt before. \"What do you need me to do?\" I ask.\n\n\"Mr. Gabe this is of the utmost importance. It may seem unfair to ask you to do this, but Mr.Gabe I need you to make that lie into truth.\"",
"Brian was used to lying by now. The twenty-four year old had told them his whole life. On average he figured he would tell about two lies a day. Some of them small like, telling his fiance Jennifer that he washed his hands after using the bathroom. Others a bit bigger, like telling a car dealership that he had been hit in the parking lot by one of it's employees and injured in order to get a discount on a car. The more he lied, the easier his life seemed to get. He was addicted and nothing could stop him.\n\nOne night he was out at a party playing a particularly fun game of one-upsmanship when there was a light knock on the door. He heard it just over the ruckus of music playing and people talking in the party. Brian wondered who it could be as he made his way slowly past the party goers. No one really noticing as he slipped past them one at a time. They were too busy reveling in their drinks and their drunken lust. \n\nHe looked through the peephole and on the other side were what appeared to be a few middle aged men and a single woman. They were dressed in long green robes with hoods. Each had their own sword in a hilt and the eldest man was even wearing a crown. Brian gave them one last look over noticing how worn down and tired each looked. Figuring that they had gotten lost and were knocking on the wrong door, he decided to meander back to the party.\n\nHe wasn't able to get more than two steps in however when they knocked again. \"Sir Breslin, we need to have a word with you!\" he thought he heard the eldest man shout. Maybe they had yelled out for him before and he couldn't hear it over the noise of the crowd, but it seemed impossible that this alliance of people outside his door could know his last name. Against his better judgement, he opened the door.\n\n\"I... I think you have the wrong house.\" Brian said quietly hoping they would just go away.\n\nHaving opened the door he was able to get a closer look at this group of warriors. The eldest had a thick beard that fell down to a point in the middle of his chest. He had to have been at least six foot tall because he towered over Brian's five foot eight frame. When he spoke his voice was deep and raspy as if he had been a smoker for many years, but Brian got the feeling there was no such thing as cigarettes where they this group had come from. \"No master Breslin, we know we have the right residence. May we come in?\" \n\nIt was more of a command than a question and although Brian knew that his party going friends might be a bit upset about the intrusion, something in the glint of the blade that their leader started to unsheathe told him he better agree. More out of the fear of being sliced in two than anything he stepped to the side and causally opened the door the rest of the way so the motley crew could shuffle past.\n\n\"Who the fuck are these guys!?\" Brian heard one of the party goers shriek. A split second later the source of that question was in two pieces on the floor, blood spilling out of each half creating a pool on the floor. The rest of the party got the message pretty quickly and exited Brian's apartment in a giant mass of screams, shuffling feet, and outright sobbing. \n\n"
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[WP] Our experiences shape us. We are born into this world as humans, and we change according to our actions and circumstances. Shortly before their death, some one becomes human again.
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"The screams seemed to come to him from a great distance, muted by the vacuum encompassing the station. Captain Joseph Everett floated gently, his breathing heavy. His back bumped against the window, rebounding softly. Eyes never left the hatch as he fumbled with the communications interface, numb fingers eventually finding the proper switch.\n\n\"...Go ahead for control.\" The voice crackled slightly as Joseph wrenched his attention away from the oncoming danger.\n\n\"Control! This is Everett. There's something up here with us! I don't know what it is; I haven't seen it. But it's killing us! You hear me!? We're dying up here!\"\n\n\"Whoa Everett, I need you to calm down. You sound a little unhinged. Can you put Martin on?\"\n\n\"Jesus, Harry! Are you even listening?\" He turned to face Earth, raising his voice as if to yell across the distance. \"He's probably dead! They all are. Hell, I'm dead too for that matter! Something is HERE.\"\n\n\"Sure, sure. Just let me speak to one of the other guys and we can get this whole...\"\n\nThe rest of Harry's response was drowned out by a small puff of air, impossibly loud in the confined space. Sweat slicked the headset as it it floated out of Joseph's grip. He licked his lips nervously, waiting for... something. Anything. Waiting to join his crew in whatever fate had come through the hatch.\n\nIn that moment, that heartbeat before oblivion, everything changed. *No, not everything,* he realized. *Just me.* He saw then. Saw the Earth in its fragile perfection. Saw people, so focused on this or that, completely blind to the beauty around them. He saw the nations, fighting, bickering, dividing humanity. And he saw what they could be, what they could truly become. The human race, noble, exalted. Divine. And he wept for his life, and the lives of so many who had missed it, who had lost the wonder of a child.\n\n\"Harry,\" he whispered. The headset floated beside his head, rotating lazily as the tears left his face to hang before him like disoriented rain. \"Harry, you tell them. You tell them it's all so small. We have to be bigger. Harry, we're not alone out here. We have to be more. We have to be...\"\n\nSharp pain at the base of his neck, pushing him into the glass. He watched Earth, even until the light faded.",
"Voices and murmurs filled the chamber room, quiet and muffled, but still loud enough for the Orpheus to hear. He sat in a chair, facing a set of doors.\n\n\"He is a man again, how-\"\n\n\"Something is wrong-\"\n\n\"Could be a sign of redemption-\"\n\n\"We should kill him before the public-\" \n\nThe voices climbed on top of one another, making it all but impossible to distinguish them. Orpheus tried to get up, but was found himself tied down. \n\nTwo Behemoths stood guard at the doors, not showing the slightest bit of interest in the conversations. Of course they wouldn't, Behemoths became what they are by taking and doing orders.\n\n\"He's up!\" A voice loudly announced. \n\nOrpheus tried to crane his neck to see who was talking, but his neck only turned 90 degrees. What was going on?\n\n\"What is this?\" He asked. \"Where am I, who are you? Untie me!\" \n\nA Ghoul stepped into his view. Orpheus tried to keep himself composed. Why would a Ghoul be interested in him? Ghouls were so rare, many thought they weren't even a form, yet Orpheus could tell what it was as soon as he saw it. Pale white skin. Walking on two legs, but hunched over like an ape. Wrinkled, dead eyes. What could one do to become such a horrid thing?\n\n\"Gaze yourself...\" The Ghoul slowly pulled a mirror from its pocket and held it in front of Orpheus. \n\nOrpheus pulled his eyes off the decaying face and into the mirror, shocked at what he saw. He was no longer a Builder. His skin was soft and weak, scales completely gone. \n\n\"What have you done to me?\" Orpheus whispered. \"What am I?\" \n\n\"You most closely resemble a baby form, but aged. Human form, somehow as an adult.\" The voice came from out of sight, directly behind, but Orpheus recognized it. Emperor Shushan. The large Shadow form stepped into Orpheus's view. Nobility shown by his very form, Emperor Shushan has done great deeds and seeked no credit for them. \n\n\"Emperor,\" Orpheus said, bowing his head as much as he could manage. \"What is happening? Why am I like this?\" \n\n\"They say,\" the Emperor spoke slowly, \"that human form shows perfect innocence. They say that someday, Human form will rise and take the throne.\" \n\nOrpheus hung on to every word. \n\n\"However,\" the Emperor stepped back and placed a hand behind his back. \"Today will not be that day.\" \n\nEmperor Shushan shot his hand out from behind himself, holding a sword of shadow. He took a leap forward and plunged it into Orpheus's chest. \n\nBefore realizing what happened, Orpheus began coughing out blood. He looked up at the Emperor. His form was changing. It got darker, more chaotic... \n\n\"Shadow form,\" Orpheus managed to say, \"it isn't great deeds, unnoticed...\" \n\nEmperor Shushan shook his head. \"No, it isn't.\" \n\nOrpheus's head began to fall. \"It's a sign of Evil...\" \n\nBefore he could hear the response, Orpheus faded away.\n\n"
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[WP] A group of children find a weapon of mass destruction (a lost nuke buried in the dirt, a crate of nerve gas etc.) and think it is harmless.
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"The boys had worked hard for the first two weeks of summer, and they were finally on the finishing touches. Jayden was attaching the rope ladder, Hayden was screwing on the base for the telescope, and Hudson was at home getting his dads old porno magazines. Hudson was the only one who really wanted them there, but it got him away for a while.\n\nJordan was working at shoveling out some steps into the steep incline of the embankment leading to the base of the tree. He thought it would be an easy job that would make getting up the hill easier, but he was having a hell of a time with all the tree roots. He was almost done however, and refused to give up. Dripping in sweat, he pulled his shovel back to strike into a thick root he was presently contending with. His thrust glanced off into the soil to the right of the root and his shovel made a deep clanging sound as pain shot up his arm. \"Fuck!\" Jordan yelled, dropping his shovel.\n\n\"What's up?\" Jayden yelled from above. \"I hit something metal.\" Jordan replied. \"Hold on, Ill dig it up.\" Jordan began to dig out carefully around the area he struck. 'It's probably just some trash' he thought, but he couldn't help the childish excitement swirling within. Luckily the item was not buried as deep as he had feared. It only took five minuets or so of effort for him to reveal a green metal case bearing yellow markings of numbers and letters. The only arrangement that was legible was a word he didn't understand. It read \"CYCLOSARIN\"\n\nHe called Jayden and Hayden down to have a look. \"What the hell is that?\" Hayden asked. Jordan scoffed. \"How the hell should I know?\" Jayden joined them and reached for the box \"Lets pull it out!\" Jordan roughly pushed his hands hands away. \"Relax man! It could be dangerous. It's definitely in an army box. It could be explosive or something.\" \n\nThe sudden sound of something breaking through the brush to their left gave them a start. Their hearts all began to pound until they heard Hudson yelling loudly \"Getchya' porno here! Hot porno fa' sale! Fresh off da' presses!\" \"Idiot\" Jordan muttered under his breath and Jayden and Hayden giggled. Hudson emerged from the brush fanning himself with one of the outdated magazines. \"Its about to get real hot in here!\" He said, grinning widely. He expected a joyous welcome and was taken aback at the blank stares facing him. \"Whats wrong guys? You wanted gay porn?\" \"Jordan found something.\" Jayden replied. Hudson threw the magazine his was holding to his right and dropped the box with the rest onto the ground. \"Lemme see.\" He said as he lurched forward and, being the biggest of the boys, easily shoved Hayden out of the way. \n\n\"Army shit!\" He exclaimed excitedly. \"I hope its a fucking bomb!\" He grabbed the box with both hands and began to pull and twist it free. Jordan felt his heart leap into his throat. \"Easy Hudson! Jesus!\" \"Relax pussy.\" Hudson replied as the soil gave way. Hudson quickly brushed some dirt away and opened the box to reveal rows of small metal cylinders. Hudson pulled one out and examined it in the sun. There were no markings. Hudson shook it and liquid was heard inside. \"It sounds like its melted.\" He said dismissively. \"Its probably harmless now.\" Despite his show of disappointment, he refused to release his grip on the box.\n\nThe boys quickly descended into an argument as to what to do with the box. Jayden wanted to keep it up in the tree fort for protection. Hayden thought it would be cool to call the newspaper and get their pictures taken. Jordan wanted to show his dad who was the smartest person he knew and would know what to do. Hudson, of course, had another idea. \"It's my poppas birthday this Saturday. We're going down to see him in the home. He fought in Korea. He'll love this as a present!\" The boys knew better than to argue, as it usually ended with being choked and Hudson getting his way anyway.\n\nThe mood to finish was soured and they went their separate ways, Hudson with the case. Though that was the last time they saw him alive, they would be both talking about him with various authorities and hearing about him for quite some time on the news along with the hundreds of unfortunate seniors who also died agonizing deaths. \n\n",
"**. //**\n\n**. //**\n\n**. //** *clunk*\n\n**. //**\n\n**. #InitApp //** *Owwwww! Fffffuck!*\n\n**. #BootApp 1/1674 //**\n\n**. #BootApp 749/1674 //** *Wow, rude... Jacob? You alright?*\n\n**. Error with #App 765 //**\n\n**. Error with #App 766, pruning further errors //** *Yeah, I just fell, watch your feet!*\n\n**. System Status: 12%, Critical Damage Sustained //** \n\n**. Pilotcore Rejuvenation in progress //** *Of COURSE you'd be clumsy enough to fall!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 10% //** *Hold on, I'm coming down!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 15% //** *OW! Watch it, you tub of shit!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 26% //** *Hey, screw you!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 34% //** *I dunno if you guys should be down there...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 40% //** *Just like a* girl *to wuss out...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 43% //** *Come on, Jessa, I'll catch you!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 51% //** *Well... alright...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 57% //** *There, see? Not that bad down here... Will, where are you going?*\n\n**. Proximity Warning: Audio and Pressure sensors near pilot activated. Preparing countermeasures //**\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 64% // AP Bolts: Active //** *Dude! You gotta see this!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 69% // Electrostatic Discharge: Active //** *Don't wander off tubby, we only brought the one flashlight!*\n\n**. Countermeasures active, awaiting Pilot authorization //** *Don't call me tubby, dickbreath! Get over here!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 72% //** *Jakob, William, I don't like this...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 75% //** *Guys... I think this is a robot!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 80% //** *What.*\n\n**. Warning: Contacts Danger-Close //** *No, check it out! See? If this were a giant robot that fell over...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 88% //** *That's stupid, the crusade ended like, AGES ago...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 92% //** *See! Right here! The Imperial 'signia! This is* SO *cool!*\n\n**. Warning: Multiple Contacts Danger-Close //** *Will, no way, that has to be... something else, I dunno.*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 95% //** *Jakob? Do you hear that? It's like it's trying to do something...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 97% //** *Listen man, this is AWESOME.*\n\n**. Self Defense Override Active //** *How awesome can it be? If it IS a war machine, then...*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: 99% //** *G-guys! Look!*\n\n**. Rejuvenation: Complete // Self Defense Halted //** *Then we'll have the* COOLEST PLAYGROUND SECRET BASE *EVER.*\n\n**. Recording //** The hell? How... was I sleeping? *Hey! It's lighting up!*\n\n**. Affirmative //** Shit... must've been that last missile salvo. Check warnings, proximity? Gimme feed.\n\n**. External Feed Online //** Alright, it better be a fucking rescue te- what the fu... *Over there! See!?*\n\n**. //** Okay, okay... check system time, and factor in Pilotcore sleep time. *I told you!*\n\n**. //** ... Well? *Do you... think it's still alive?*\n\n**. July 16th, 6117. Pilotform Sleep Time: 3142 years, 7 months, 3 days //** THE FUCK *Guys!*\n\n**. Cortisol levels spiking, admini- //** NO. No, I'm fine, just... hold on. *Look! See? It's moving!*\n\n**. Delaying. //** Thank you, Lucy... Just... gimme some time. *Aww... it stopped!*\n\n**. //** ... *Oh well... guess it's dead? But the lights are still on...*\n\n**. //** ... *Man oh man... if this IS one of those robots, you know how much trouble we're in?*\n\n**. //** ... *What do you mean? We didn't do nuthin! It's not even active, just a hunk of junk!*\n\n**. //** ... *Dude, these things leveled CITIES.*\n\n**. //** ... *I know, I remember from history class, but isn't that just awe-*\n\n**. //** ... *I wanna go!*\n\n**. //** ... *You mean insanely dangerous, right? Look, I think Jessa has the right idea...*\n\n**. //** ... *Just makes both of you girls... hey! Come back! At least give me the light!*\n\n**. //** ... They're going... *No way, we're going... We can't tell* anyone *about this, right?*\n\n**. //** ... Lucy, are you running pickup signals on Imperial bands? *You guys are ^crazy... ^hey! ^don't ^walk ^off!*\n\n**. Affirmative //** ...\n\n**. //** ...\n\n**. //** ...\n\n**. //** ... Shut down the signal.\n\n**. Affirmative //** Deactivate all remaining weapons, and disconnect the self-defense override.\n\n**. Affirmative. Warning: Risk Profile Exceeds Recc- //** I know it does. Don't care. Do it.\n\n**. It is done. //** Confirm no weapons or defenses will activate without Pilotform approval?\n\n**. Affirmative //** Thank you, Lucy. Initiate Pilotform sleep cycle.\n\n**. For how long? //** ... Until external override.\n\n**. //** ...\n\n**. //** Do it, Lucy.\n\n**. Affirmative. Good night, Sir. //** Thank y-you... gooooodniiigh Luuuucyyy...\n\n**. Pilotform sleep cycle confirmed //**\n\n**. //**\n\n**. //**\n\n**. //**\n\n**. //**",
"\"Hey guys,\" Andy started anxiously, \"You want to see a dead body?\"\n\nWe all looked at him and his grinning smug face. Andy burst into laughter.\n\n\"So no dead body?\" asked Buddy. Buddy was always a little bit behind on jokes.\n\n\"That's not a good joke, Andy,\" I started, \"I mean, I'm not offended by it, but I just mean it's lame.\"\n\n\"I'm ripping off... That movie! Stand by Me. Anyway, no, I have not found a dead body, but I have found something much, much more spectacular. A box.\" \n\n\"A box?\" Buddy asked. Andy said nothing, walked back to his bike, and we had no choice but to mount on our own bikes and follow.\n\nHe took us out past Ashley's grandpa's farm, following the stream until we were three potato fields into nowhere. Then he stopped. He felt around the ground with his feet, until a faint clacking sound rumbled through a thin layer of dirt. \n\n\"Help me with this; it's freakin' heavy.\" Andy said. We got on three sides and heaved out a large, square, green metal box. As Andy swept the top of box, a BIOHAZARD symbol was strewn across, though none of us knew at the time what it meant.\n\n\"So what? It's just a box.\" I said.\n\n\"Just hold on a sec.\" he said. Andy unhatched two latches on the box lid, and revealed the mysterious innards- a button.\n\n\"A big red button.\" Buddy confirmed to himself. \n\n\"Yep. What do you think it does? Let's push it.\"\n\n\"We don't know what it does! What if it's something that... I don't know... We aren't supposed to touch.\"\n\n\"Someone left this box right here, on this spot, for me to find. And I'm not supposed to open it?\"\n\n\"I think that's not quite true. At least not that specifically.\"\n\nAndy pressed down on the button with both hands.\n\n\"Oh no, I think.\" said Buddy.\n\nAndy smiled. \"What's the worst that can happen?\"\n\n\nEDIT: (sorry I got kind of lazy and tired and cut it short but I didn't want to delete it so ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhwell)",
"Carrie brushed the dust and dirt off of it, the bright colors on each panel of the cube mismatched and begging to be put in the correct order. She always had to have everything perfect, everything the way it was meant to be, and nothing could be left as it was. It wasn't really an obsession, she didn't think of these things, she just absentmindedly did them. So when digging the hole in the yard just a little to the right of the hibiscus plant that was about a foot too far off from a straight line with the rest turned up some kind of extra-hard Rubik's cube, she knew what she had to do. The thing felt warm in her hands as she twisted, got warmer as she moved the groups of color together, coming closer to a solution, she thought, just above the surface of the compulsion, *Maybe this is a bad idea.* So she set it down and set about moving the hibiscus, finishing a little more quickly than she otherwise would have, and brought the cube and shovel into the garage. She hung the shovel on its hook, grabbed the cube and headed inside.\n\n\"Mom, look at this. I found it outside while I was moving that Hibiscus in line with the rest.\"\n\nHer mother, at the sink, sighed and turned the tap off. \"I told you to leave it where it was, Carrie. Let me see.\" She held out her hand, waiting.\n\nCarrie looked at her mother's outstretched hand, and the cube reacted, sent a chill up her arm, straight to the base of her skull, giving her a little shiver. \"It's just a toy,\" she said, holding it up, clearly not intending to hand it over. \"I'll see if James wants to play with it,\" she lied.\n\nHer mother nodded, continued with the dishes, satisfied. Carrie hurried up to her brother's room, wanting to show off her discovery. She never liked it in his room, couldn't stand the mess, the clutter, the utter lack of order. Chaos. All of it, chaos. He had a friend over, Martin, she thought, or Marty or something unmemorable. He was one of those kids who fade into the background, a born extra. \n\nCarrie stepped into the clutter, the entropic mess of his room settling into a maelstrom around him, a three-foot circle of visible carpet in the center of the room, James the focal point. Martin (*Matt? Marv?*) sat on the edge of the bed like a discarded toy, just watching James play some shooter, the movements too fast and jerky on the screen for Carrie to follow. The boys are completely absorbed, James only looking up at her when she nudges him in the ribs with her foot. \"Look what I found.\" He reaches out to take the cube, and it doesn't give her a chill, so she lets him take it. \n\n\"Cool. Check it, Mark, this Rubik's cube is insane. Has a shitload of rows. Here.\"\nMark (*No way the kid's name was Mark. He winced when James called him that.*) caught it, started counting. He looked relieved to have something to do. \"Sixteen squared, 256, six sides, 1536 squares. Quite a challenge. Awesome.\" He handed it back to Carrie, who was jarred at hearing his voice, which seemed raspy from disuse. He looked at her, obviously getting agitated at having put himself in the center of attention. He leaned back, turning his gaze back to the television and the staccato bursts of gunfire already coming from James, whose attention had already shifted back to the world on the screen, a hellish battleground where nobody dies for long, respawning only to be killed again and again.\n\nThere was nothing left for her to do, so she went back to her room with the cube, which was now slowly pulsing with a warmth that radiated through her gut pleasantly. She sat on her bed, in the calm, clean, ordered sanctuary she had built and maintained for herself, and set to work making the thing ordered. Each time she made a move the warmth intensified, the pleasure of solving the thing becoming a need, an addiction, far beyond a compulsion. It began to emit a pale light from within the cracks between squares, an orange glow, warm like sand on the beach on a summer evening. As she progressed, Carrie became less and less aware of what was going on around her, less and less aware of reality, her sole purpose now to simply solve the puzzle, get it right, make it the way it should be. Not-Mark stood at the door, a look of shock on his bland face. The glow had suffused the entire room, the warmth Carrie felt was making her sweat, but she didn't notice, Not-Mark feeling the heat from the thing, and wondering, for just a moment, if this was going to be as bad as he thought it would be, the thought cut short as the cube exploded, igniting the very air in the room, fire blossoming into the hall, through the maelstrom of Jame's room, through the kitchen where the clean dishes shattered in their cupboards, into the den where the TV melted instantly, screaming through and out of all of the windows all at once, into the night sky above the house, flames reaching for the stars and tinged at the edges all of the colors of the cube, reaching for the atmosphere, burning, burning until the very sky was on fire. \n\nThe desire for order had killed them. Ended them all in chaos. The cube rested in the ashes of the fall of men, and from above, the watcher called it home, and left, satisfied that these primitives would never be a problem again.\n",
"It's a quiet afternoon on Mars. The TV announced that dust levels would be fairly low today, so I let the older kids go outside and play for once. Things are finally starting to settle down, it's been so chaotic since we adopted the new baby. But hey, inter-galactic peace is important, and the best way to achieve it is by making each other family. She's cute as a button, and orange as a carrot. We named her Jax.\n\nI'm having a fun time tickling Jax and getting little squeaking martian giggles out of her, when the older kids burst into the house. \n\nI see my son Jerry and a giant mess out of the corner of my eye. They tracked in a dump truck's worth of bright red mud in with them. I sigh.\n\n\"Back already? The mud pits couldn't keep you entertained?\"\n\nJerry laughs delightedly. He raises something above his head, and the other kids look at the thing in his hands with bubbling excitement. \"Look, Daddy! Look what we found!\"\n\nI look up from Jax, and my mouth drops in horror to see the thing he's holding. I quickly run over and snatch it out of his hands.\n\n\"Jerry! Where did you find such a thing?\"\n\nMy son looks down at his feet, not knowing what he did wrong. \"By the old pilgrim crash sites...\"\n\nI look at the weapon of mass destruction in my hands. I never thought I'd see one again after the wars. Certainly not after we left Earth for the colonies.\n\n\"Jerry, this thing has killed more people in history than any other weapon. I don't want you touching it. Not after what our species went through because of it.\"\n\n\"Why? It's just a book.\"\n\nI go to the study and step up to the high shelf. I put the Bible away and turn around to face my son.\n\n\"It's not the book, Jerry. It's what's inside of it.\""
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I would prefer something funny, but serious would be cool to.
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[WP] Aliens Come to Earth and aren't what we expected.
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"Marcus gazed down at the fungus growing on his left foot big toe and wondered what the hell happened. No. What the fuck happened!\n\n“Shut up marcus, you’re doing it again.”\n\n“What?....”\n\n“You’re narrating your thoughts, even though they’re not here. This isn’t a goddamn short film featuring the voiced thoughts and desires of a 42 year-old fuck-up, thank-you-but-honestly-no-thank-you very much.”\n\nJerry gazed down at the fungus growing on Marcus's left foot big toe and gagged a little.\n\n\"Marcus, you know that these freaks who've got us locked up in here do know how to fix that, right?\"\n\nMarcus was examining the rust growing around the joints of the iron manacles chaining him to the wall.\n\n\"Hey! HEY! Marcus! All you need to do is ask, ya know? It's not our fault an alien species that just happened to be humanoid has come down and enslaved us as a sex population! There's no reason to be depressed. We lived as Delawari... Delawans... We were the folks that had no choice but to live in Delaware! Now that the entire state has become a playground for the alien's mild BDSM fetish, look! It's actually gotten better around here, see?\"\n\n\"I know Jerry, I know. Nothing could make me ever want us to be back to being the same old Delawanarians. Thanks man, I'll ask them to take care of the fungus during our next session... and hopefully they'll remove the marbles from the bottoms of my feet too, it's been a real bitch standing up lately.\" \n\n\"Good call Marcus, hopefully they'll let it slide.\"",
"It was as if the world had been holding its breath without ever realizing it. When the ship landed in central park the collective release should have started a cyclone in every ocean. The screeching of sirens, the tires of news van tearing the grass and the chatter of a hundred reporters soon followed. It was finally happening. What will they be like was asked in every language on every news channel. The talking heads pontificated about advanced species with the secrets of the universe, and conquering empires who would value only our resources. When the door to the ship opened a day after the ship had landed the world once again held its breath. What emerged was not what we had ever dreamed of. A fat, gray creature wearing what looked like a diaper floated out on what might have been an advanced wheelchair. It blinked in the sun before floating over to the crowd, ignoring the military and political leaders that stood with grand self importance and outstretched hands. A woman screamed and fled as the creature approached the crowd and this seemed to scare the creature greatly. He tried to maneuver his vehicle away, but banked too sharply and fell to the ground, his thin limbs flailing as he fell. His terrified wailing drew a floating robot from the ship. With liquid metal tenticlals it righted the small vehicle and returned the creature to it, then retreated into the ship. After the creature regained its composure, the world watched while it explored the park, tasting and touching plants, people and even animals. It then crawled from its transport and into a pond, where it seemed to fall asleep. It was days before someone ventured on board the ship to figure out what was going on. Their report was more horrifying than mankind could ever have imagined. The aliens were indeed a race of helpless children, grown only in form. The machines on the ship all reported the same thing. With the achievement of a post-needs society they had lost any motivation to do more than eat, shit and explore for fun. The lost the need to learn any knowledge which they could simply ask for. They eventually even lost the will to wish to know. They lived in a sustained infancy, with every need tended to by robots which could neither evolve nor rebel by their most basic programming. But that was not the horror. The true horror, according to the slave machines, was that this was known to be the fate of all races who survived their species' infancy. And worse yet, they predicted that first contact had only sped our race to that end. ",
" The dust settled to the earth ominously as crowds gathered around the large structure that fell to the ground in a large destructive heap. Granite colored megalithic arches connecting a dome with intricate symbols covering the sides. One of the bystanders named James Orson stood in awe of the ancient and dominating aura that the structure gave off. He was not the first person to make it to the field but he was also not nearly the last as hundreds if not thousands of people were now clawing their way through to see what could possibly be the first interstellar contact in human history.\n\n\nIn some ways it was so cliché, there was fog, a walkway, the first horrifying footsteps of a creature so grotesque that only evolutionary survival could allow such a thing to live and breathe. There were no suits, technology to be seen; they were practically animals with their grunts and screeching. Someone walked out as our representative and held out his hand, hoping for peace. We got nothing of the sort. Screams erupted from the crowd as these monsters slaughtered my friends, my colleagues and any peers I had once stood around to watch this event happen. I don’t truly know how I survived but perhaps luck could explain how I had found a rather sharp stone and in the most basic of attempts smashed my attacker’s head in. Others did the same, cracking bone, shell, carapace or whatever the hell it is that they were covered in. The clicking and screeching will haunt my mind forever; but this was also not exactly how it had seemed. \n\n\nThe aftermath was chaos, and I found myself exploring the structure without any permission and likely to be arrested at some point. I found a console, completely destroying my sense of these creatures as primitive. There was a blinking screen, in English, glowing and floating on the wall like some ominous projector.\n\n\n“Thank you, man. For centuries we have traveled, the last of our kind. Our entire system of beliefs revolves around the sanctity of death through battle, but not with our kin. We escaped the destruction of our world through war as outcasts and prisoners. The ensuing battle was bloody and horrific however those were the lucky ones, as they died in honor. All that was left were us few, decrepit and decaying in our own shells from old age as we could not bear to battle amongst our peers. It was not right, not holy. We needed one last battle to die the way we were promised as spawn, and you gave us that chance.\n\n\nThank you man, and farewell.”\n"
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[WP] You are the first person ever to encounter this creature. Tell us about it in an epic poem.
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"It towered over me like a skyscraper\n\nAll I could see were its feet\n\nThen it crumpled up like a newspaper\n\nTo a level where we could meet.\n\n\n\nI heard it muffle a tweet\n\nSo then I knew it could speak,\n\nI unraveled a stinky heat\n\nIts breath was a foe to defeat. \n\n\n\nA hand stretched out \n\nfrom what I thought was a mouth\n\nand grabbed me by the face.\n\nMy heartbeat changed pace,\n\nI wanted this paper to erase.\n\nBut my pleas were silenced with a gaze. \n\n\n\n\nThe hand brought me close\n\nlo and behold, \n\nThis creature was full of surprises.\n\n\n\n\nIt spat out confetti, \n\nWhich turned into spaghetti \n\nthen bombed me with what I thought were meatballs. \n\n\n\n\n\"STOP!\" I screamed out\n\nwith no thought of doubt \n\nthat something must be done. \n\n\n\n\nThe creature shrilled\n\nMy request not fulfilled\n\nAnd still I was stuck til be killed. \n",
"I never thought this could exist a specimen so strange \nI couldn't possibly identify when I met it on the range \n\n\nSo bravely defiant of others' word and quaintly entertaining \nI feel it makes me happier even when outside it's raining\n\nFluttering like a butterfly my heart tries to escape \nLooking at this creature tastes like the sweetest grape\n\n\nIn matters dark or in matters light \nit stays with me, come day or night \nI don't know how I don't now why \nI just now that I had to try \n\n\nTo capture this magnificence \nthat can't be locked behind a fence \nSo I spoke to it and asked \nmay we be together \nwithout lies, deceit and mask \nin a time that lasts forever \n\nI tell you I had never known \nanything but the pain and emptiness \nIf this one hadn't come along \nnot just a friend but something more \nyou are the missing part of my soul \n\nand whenever I cease to exist \nI'll remember first time we kissed \nand that moment will be ours, \nforever \n\n\n\nTitle: \"the soulmate\"\n\n\n",
"It runs like the fastest of hares,\n\n\nIt weighs more than three grizzly bears\n\n\nI'm really not lying,\n\n\nIt's quite terrifying\n\n\nAnd it just caught me unawares.\n\n-\n\nIt's strong enough to run through a wall,\n\nand stands over seven feet tall\n\nWith skin a deep red\n\nAnd an overly large head\n\nIt let loose its distinctive call.\n\n-\n\n\"OH, YEAH\", the monster did crow\n\nAnd smiled as it destroyed my home\n\nIt's a big fucking drink\n\nWith the ability to think\n\nWho the fuck put this in a kid's show",
"Fear crept into my soul \nsilent slumber deafening \nheart pounding out of control \nfaith severely lessening \n\nWonder rooted me in place \nresist though I tried \nI had to see it's face \nbe it the last before I died\n\nCurious little thing \nbuying that I'm asleep \nmy trap yet to spring \noh the minds of sheep \n***\n>Alas life draws me away, I hope to return later today. \nupdate: nope, thought train left the station."
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[WP] Drone lands on Europa, it finds remains of another drone with unfamilar markings, however the front panel states in Aramaic "Go No Further"
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"\"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?\" exclaimed Dr. Deutscheberg. \n\n\"It looks like a probe with Aramaic writing on it, we figured it out while you were in the bathroom for 2 hours ...sir.\" a junior technician named Daniel at a nearby computer replied, trying in vane to conceal the condescension in their voice while addressing a superior.\n\n\"Uuuh, oh yeah, I knew that\" Deutscheberg said, embarrassed, as he downed the last couple gulps remaining in a rather large bottle of aristocrat vodka. \"I was just testing you. Good Job! High five!\"\n\nThe junior technician sighed, and gave the doctor the weakest high five ever.\n\n\"OK, I am officially out of booze, I'm making a liquor run, anyone want anything?\" Deutscheberg said, followed by a small burp.\n\nIn unison all of the 20 technicians and scientists in the room exclaimed \"A SOBER BOSS!\"\n\n\"Man, FUCK YA'LL, you're ALL FIRED. I better not see any of you here when I get back!\" The doctor yelled at them while drunkenly pointing his finger around the room glaring, and swaying back and forth.\n\nDaniel sighed again, he understood the necessity for the high level of secrecy with this mission, but he didn't understand how there could be absolutely no oversight, that somebody like Deutscheberg could wind up in charge of the whole thing. If he hadn't disappeared for an entire month with no explanation they never would have been able to do the work necessary to get the stupid drone on Europa in the first place. But there was nothing he could do so in quiet defeat he and the rest of the room packed up what few supplies they had at their desks and filed out of the building into the dark, cool night. Taking what little solace they could in knowing that the brain implants they were required to have to be able to work on this mission would wipe their memories of the horrible experience for good.\n\nSeveral hours later Deutscheberg returned, a liter of vodka in one hand, a liter of whiskey in the other.\n\n\"Finally, now that they're all gone it's time for me to do serious work\" he slurred under his breath to himself .\n\nHe got on the terminal that controlled the drone, lowered the wheels, backed it up a good distance from the Aramaic drone, then began speeding towards it.\n\nRight before impact he made the hydraulics in the drone bounce the front wheels off the ground While he shouted \"BAAAACKFLIIIIIP!\" launching the drone into a super gnarly backflip.\n\n\"FUCK YEAH, THAT WAS SWEET!\" Was the only thing he had time to say before the drone landed on an ancient Aramaic nuclear warhead that destroyed the universe\n\nI'll take my downvotes now, thank you\n\n",
"The room was quiet, the air felt close, punctuated by the wispy grey of cigarette smoke. Men and women, engineers and bureaucrats all sat around the large central table, their suits and uniforms betraying their mental states through their dishevelled nature. None dared to speak out of turn; to interject without very careful forethought in this ominous hour. \n\nEvery wall surrounding the gathered specialists were charts and texts, photos beamed back from hallway across the solar system. All of those gathered had seen every single picture and data collection a thousand times or more by now, the images, numbers and symbols burned deep into their minds.\n\nThe conversation had inevitably turned to the most serious of all the topics they had been assembled to pursue. At the head of the table, Andrew Vincent shuffled himself forward in his seat, sitting as upright and imperious as he could. These people were the brightest and most capable in the entire world, but the recent discovery was shaking their beliefs and world-view down to the very core. He had to maintain the strength of their intellect in order that they may yet see the mission through.\n\n“We’re sure of what the Marius probe is sending us in this regard?” Andrew asked. Everyone shifted their gaze back and forth, silently calling on one another to answer. Finally, one of the engineers cleared his throat, and spoke.\n\n“The signal had a very high integrity, the image is very clear.”\n\n“There’s no way the signal was hacked, and this is the result of some sort of prank?” Andrew questioned, though he was already confident in the answer. He had to keep them walking through this thing in its entirety. Silent head shaking gave him his confirmation, but the engineer quietly spoke again, sealing the certainty of the response.\n\n“None. The signal is unquestionably from the Marius probe.” The room remained silent as Andrew, the other engineers, and the entire room waited for someone, anyone to finally state the obvious. Andrew heaved a large sigh, his chest heavy with age and concern\n\n“So the long and short of it, as it were,” Andrew said, “is that we are looking at clear photographic proof of one of three things. One; a civilization from here on Earth, thousands of years ago, landed an object on the surface of Europa?”\n\nSilent nods of agreement with the first hypothesis. Andrew continued.\n\n“Two; a civilization from somewhere else within the solar system landed a probe on Europa, and managed to include markings that bear a striking, if not logic-defying resemblance to a language from our own past here on Earth?”\n\nOnce again the assembled intellectuals nodded their agreement, offering no unsolicited enlightenments. \n\n“Last…sorry Professor Gutfield, I’ll need you to explain this one.”\n\nThe professor shifted forward in her chair, straightened her back, and began to speak. Her voice wavered only ever so slightly, but her decades of academic scholarship held her upright, and she called now on her deep well of experience and knowledge.\n\n“Of course, Mr. Vincent. The last possibility is that the object is of alien origin, but not in the sense of being from somewhere else in the solar system, the galaxy, or the universe. It may be an artefact transferred here from another reality; another universe, if you will. A universe that in many other ways is entirely similar to our own, but in which an Aramaic speaking culture managed to send a probe through to our universe.”\n\nEvery eye in the room stared at the professor. Most understood this concept perfectly well, but it still seemed as alien an idea as the others. While no one in the room could dispute Professor Gutfield’s theory, the entire situation still seemed unfathomable.\n\nAndrew turned to a small man far away, down at the opposite end of the table. The man’s thick glasses and cold demeanour gave him an air of detachment, though he was the only one here who could possibly confirm the final question Andrew had before they arrived at their conclusion.\n\n“Dr. Hassan,” Andrew asked, “You can confirm for us all what the characters on the object say?”\n\nDr. Hassan remained still, his eyes darting decisively about the room from behind his glasses, surveying the others with some mixture of uncertainty and distress.\n\n“No,” the man said, deflating the room. Many of the others began to protest, but Dr. Hassan raised his hand gently, holding back the yet unvoiced denouncements.\n\n“No one has spoken or written this language in this form for thousands of years,” he explained. “The translation I have provided is the best that I, or anybody else, can reasonably conclude. The exact syntax and the precise phrase elude me without more samples to compare, but the translation I have provided is…it is the thought or expression of the original author, yes.”\n\nAs Dr. Hassan’s voice grew quiet, the entire room shifted back to Andrew.\n\n“Go no further.” he stated. They had all read it. They had all said it aloud in various meetings and conferences with each other. But here in this room, among the best and brightest of their fields, the words hung ever more ominous in the air.\n\nAndrew wrung his hands at the implications of this phrase, and then turned to the assembly to pose his final question.\n\n“Alright then,” he began, “It’s a warning. Or a threat. We can’t be sure. But the nature of the object, the compelling origin possibilities of the inscription, the location, and the pure infinite impossibility of us ever finding this thing in the first place all add up to a lot more questions than answers. Now we need to decide. Given this warning, what do we do now?”\n\nThe gathered specialists and scientist all seemed rather surprised by this question, and they looked about to one another to silently ensure they all agreed on their answer. Finally, one of the scientists spoke up.\n\n“We do what we’ve always done, sir,” she said. “We keep going further.”\n"
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[WP] In the future, wars are not physically fought, but decided through video games.
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"Fashionably late as usual: the United States team strutted onto the stage, surrounded by a multitude of colored lights and giant monitors. The thunderous cheers of the crowd shook the event center. Americans were generally the loudest when their team walked onstage, and this time was no different. \nWhile most countries had their teams in uniforms, the Americans had each one of their members in something different, however outlandish or flamboyant their choice of dress was. One of them had on a neon green hoodie with bright pink pants, one of the girls wore a dress in the shape of an animal, and another looked like someone from the 1700s dressed him. It looks like the lot of them were going for \"flashy\" and \"bombastic.\" The same could not be said for their General, a lanky fellow in a business suit and a long coat. Suppose he got hot under all of those clothes... most likely wouldn't happen, considering how cold the event center usually was. \nThe six members of the United States Army took their place in one of the corners of the giant stage, and the General walked to the center. Generals from England, France, Iraq, Iran, Russia, North Korea, South Korea, China, and Japan stood within the large LED-lit empty circle, waiting for the last contender. The United States General shook hands with each other General, and their talk begun. \nEach War started with the Negotiation period. In this period, the Generals would discuss who would be on whose side. Sometimes talks lasted over an hour. Sometimes they lasted all of five minutes. No matter what happened, someone usually ended up upset. \nSo the Generals had their talk for a good thirty minutes until two alliances were announced. The alliances were, unsurprisingly, United States, Great Britain, France, Japan, and South Korea for the First Alliance, and China, North Korea, Iraq, Iran, and Russia for the Second Alliance. The Second Alliance regretted having North Korea on their team, the wild cards they were, but Russia and China usually had a good game plan for situations like this. The Generals shook hands with their opponents, and the alliances assembled on two sides of the stage, where they would pick up their VR helmets. The soldiers put on their helmets, the giant screens lit up, and the Sixth Annual War began.",
"President Morris sat in a large chair in front of nine large screens mounted on the wall. He took another sip of Mountain Dew and adjusted his glasses.\n\n\"Mr. President,\" said Colonel Sanders. \"They're here.\"\n\"Excellent, let them in.\" President Morris responded.\n\nThe door swung open and eight people filed inside. The room was dimly lit but the President could see just fine. The first person was a man. He was overweight, had a considerable neck beard and his hair was ragged and unkept. His shirt covered in stains, he smelt of syrup. The next was a smaller man who couldn't weigh over 120 pounds with large glasses and fingerless gloves. He walked in and found a chair while cracking open a Redbull. Next, 5 small boys entered. All of them appeared to be 13 or younger and were very rude. \n\n\"Welcome.\" Said the President.\n\"Your Mom!\" One of the boys responded quickly. The others snickered with delight. \n\"That doesn't even make sense.\" Responded a confused President Morris as the troop of boys made their way past him.\n\nThe last to enter was a young woman, probably 20 years of age. She had bright blue hair with green streaks in it. Her eyes were hidden by the hood of her sweatshirt. She walked in without a word and sat down with the others along the wall with the nine screens.\n\nThese eight people, these eight virtual worriers were the best fighters on the planet.\n\n\"Ok team,\" the President said. They all turned around in their swivel chairs. \"..you all know the drill by now with how much you've been through.\" The group silently nodded while the kids struggled to stifle more giggling. \n\n\"The Russian team has made contact, sir.\" Announced Colonel Sanders.\n\"Perfect, bring up the screens and controls.\"\n\nSuddenly the screens flickered to life and game controllers of different sorts popped out of the control panel in front of the group.\n\nThe President walked along the row of players. \n\"Alright, we've got two minutes until the game starts. We will play 30 rounds of varying game types. First team to 16 round wins will be victorious. I expect perfection, this is the most important conflict that The United States has been involved in for 15 years.\" The kids stopped giggling and their faces grew serious.\n\n\"You are the best team on the planet, don't forget that, boys.\" They collectively nodded.\n\"Now, your controls have been met for your specific styles of play of course. Keyboards for you two,\" Morris pointed to the young woman and the skinny man who had already downed his Redbull. \"..and playstation or xbox controllers for the rest of you.\"\n\n\"What about me, sir?\" The large man asked.\n\"*Sigh* Yes, and a Wii controller for you, you crazy bastard\" Said the President. \"The controllers are under your seats.\"\n\n\"Mr. President,\" the woman asked in a small voice. \"What is the last chair for?\" \n\n\"You think I would just sit back and *watch* while the fate of my country was decided?\"\nThe President replied. She responded with a wry smile.\nThe screens flashed and everyone grabbed their controllers and faced their personal screens as the numbers ticked down to zero. The war was about to begin.\n\nAnd then the Internet went out.\n\n\"Son of a fuc-...*sigh* Fuck, hold on lemme unplug it and plug it back in we'll see if that works.\"\n\n\nEdit: Formatting, spelling etc.\n",
"INT - WAR ROOM - MILTARY BASE, LOCATION REDACTED\n\nObama: Ugh, this spawnkilling fucktard! He keeps stopping our squads from infiltrating this-\n\nMichelle: Uh, honey? Shouldn't you leave this to the actual strategists? They specialize in these types of situations.\n\nObama: Babe, the only thing I want more in this country is to help. People always say \"He's not doing anything.\" and \"He's worse than Bush.\" And if I can't do it politically, I'll do it in secret, as long as they're safe.\n\nMichelle: Oh..I love you, babe.\n\n*Michelle goes in for a hug* \n\nObama: Yeah, that's nice, can you bring me like a Hot Pocket or something babe?\n\nBiden: Oh, and do you have any of those like, Mini Pizza Rolls?\n\nObama: Ooh, yeah, some of those too.\n\nMichele: *Sigh* Okay.",
"\"Son, before you sleep, I'm gonna tell you a story about Emperors Day that's happening tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Long before you were born, after the carnage that was World War 3, the governments of the world decided that they wanted to shed all form of physical violence from this Earth. They have seen enough bloodshed and anguish in one lifetime and they vow to never let it happen again. There were no winners in WW3 and they want to create a council to ensure it never happens again.\"\n\n\"However, they needed a catharsis from the violence, a way to settle disputes and argument. This new entity decided that the only way they can do this is to settle all grievances through virtual simulation. The council thought long and hard to find a simulation that will allow countries to use their best strategies and thought processes to a game that requires fast thinking and micromanagement, just like in a real war.\"\n\n\"And that was the day that South Korea became the overlords of the world.\""
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[WP] For the appropriate fee, we can Opt You Out of any clause, promise or situation that you've gotten yourself into. What do you wish to abandon today, sir?
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[
"She laughed, heartily. \n\nI wouldn't call it a belly laugh, but it was definitely a belly laugh. I just wouldn't call it that because she was really hot and petite. But yeah, definitely a belly laugh, she really thought this was funny.\n\n\"You want me to opt you out of \"Small talk\"? I've got that right? It's important for the paperwork.\"\n\n\"Yes, that's correct.\"\n\nEven coming here was hell. So embarrassing, having people see me walk in. Everyone thinks this is for losers; convicts and addicts and stuff.\n\n\"That's going to be steep, Sugar. You sure you want to do this?\"\n\n\"Yes, please.\" I don't know if she could hear it, but I was pleading. I wanted this, no, I *needed* this, more than I needed anything. \n\nAll day, everyday, people come up to me and just try to talk to me. About sports. About the weather. About cars. About their kids. People I've never met just try to talk to me all day long. And not any one group. Not just girls, not just guys, or teenagers, or friendly children, or old grandmas - fucking everyone.\n\nI guess I just have one of those faces. One of those places and crippling social anxiety, woo me. This is why I don't waste money on lottery tickets, clearly I already won, right?\n\nShe slid me a small piece of paper across the desk. It took me a second to process it, but I could clearly see it was nothing formal, just the torn corner of some cutesy decorated notebook page. A very light pink with hearts in the background. It said \"8-14 grand\" on it in neat, but feminine writing. I really like the curve in the \"G\", she has great handwriting.\n\n\"That's fine, ma'am. I've been saving for a long time.\"\n\n\"Alright, Sweety, as long as you're sure. Head right through there, the technician will see you in just a minute. And don't you worry, we all opted out of something. There's a reason you haven't looked at my tits yet.\"",
"\"Well, that's a new one. I'll need to talk to my manager about this.\" \n\"Your advert did say *any* clause, promise or situation.\" \n\"Yes sir. There are no exceptions, but I must admit I've never dealt with this kind of a request before.\" \n\"Really? Nobody?\" \n\"Not here, no, not like this. I mean people want out, yes. But the conditions you're asking for... I'm surprised I haven't heard of this before. You would think that...\" \nA pensive expression passed across the customer's face. He interjected, \"Hmm, no. No, you wouldn't. Think about it for a moment.\" \nThe representative frowned for a moment and then raised his eyebrows. \n\"I suppose you're right,\" he replied with a hint of bemusement, \"now that I think about it. My, my. That is quite a brain tickler! I mean, there is still the question of the fee... Well, I will be just a moment, sir.\" \nThe representative hauled himself out of his chair with a such a lack of grace that suggested he had never before had to leave his desk. \nHe was gone for quite some time, giving the customer ample opportunity to familiarize himself with the finer details of the office. You would think, he reflected, that with all their fees they could afford a nicer wallpaper. \nThe representative returned to his desk with a melancholy expression. \n\"Well, I suppose I should be excited to be involved in such a unique event,\" he began, \"yet the excitement won't be for very long. Yes...yes... we can do this for you, of course. The matter of the fee is, a little unusual. I suppose you know our policy?\" \n\"That you always make an offer?\" \n\"Yes, sir, that is it. Well, you have presented a very singular situation. There can be no fee for this service. Yet we are obliged to offer it to you as per our policy.\" \nThe customer reflected on this for a moment. \n\"Yes... I... suppose that makes sense. I must admit I had only thought of the ends, not the means. I did not mean to put you out.\" \n\"Fear not sir, you will not have.\" \nThe customer laughed a solitary, single 'ha'. \n\"I suppose not.\" \n\"Well, sir, this will require a small amount of time to prepare. We have, of course, never performed this before, not, of course, to our knowledge. My manager believes that this will be carried out before noon tomorrow.\" \n\"Excellent.\" \n\"Sir, if I may, and as telling me means very little, may I ask why?\" \n\"I suppose it doesn't matter, yes,\" the customer took a deep breathe, \"If you knew the things I have done...terrible things. Terrible, terrible things. This world would have been better without me. Will have been better. I should never have existed.\"\n\n"
] | 2
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[WP] The monster under the bed wants to pursue a different career.
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[
"A crash woke him up. \"What was that?\". He reached for the intercom and called down to security. \"Garry, report!\", he said frantic and sleep deprived into the device, \"It's all clear Mr. Joel, no events.\" Embarrassed at his midnight rant with his far too quickly approaching lucidity, he laid back down. \"Must if been a dream,\" he though, just as he heard rustling under his bed. A giant figure rises from the floor. \"Hello there,\" it says in a weary decrepit voice.\n\"What is it? What do you want?\"\n\"Well bill, I believe this is killing me.\"\nHe says, as a smile runs away from his face.\n\"Well I'm sure I could be a movie star, if I could get out of this place!\"\nLa la la didy da, ",
"“I’m really tired of this, Tim.”\n\n“Tim seriously, calm down. You’re the only person I can talk to about this.”\n\n“Tim. Tim.”\n\n“Okay, sorry, didn’t mean to shout. Just hear me out okay? I just want someone to listen.”\n\n“No Tim, I’m not going to suddenly shut up and stand next to you grinning for the rest of the night. No, no Tim, no – I won’t start licking your toes or make a wailing sound. Okay? I promise.”\n\n“To be honest Tim I just find all this ethically questionable, and the fact you’ll barely even speak to me right now makes it all the more convincing. You’re a nice kid, you try hard at school and you’re really considerate for your age. Why am I actually doing this? What’s the point?”\n\n“Well yeah, you think this isn’t weird for me? This was supposed to be my career. Believe it or not Tim, I’ve got a pretty sensitive soul, and this seemed like a great way to pursue something creative and still earn decent money. But here I am performing some scam and the only result is keeping your self-esteem at rock bottom.”\n\n“Well yeah that too, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”\n\n“Yeah, I know it smells bad, I’m sorry.”\n\n“Tim, it’s really nice that you’re comparing me to the Bogeyman, but that guy’s on another level. I’m pretty sure that he just employs a set of imposters to do all of his gigs now.”\n\n“Yeah, I met him once. Remember that time I kept throwing socks out of your cupboard? Yeah, pretty good huh? That hellscape you saw when you opened the door took me like two weeks to get perfect. I even had to rope in an ex-girlfriend to play the part of your mum’s doppelgänger. Remember? She was the one who kept bouncing my head into your face. And the roar man. The roar!\n\nAnyway, that night earned me a nomination for the Haxan awards that year, and Bogey was there getting the Lifetime Achievement award.\n\nHe’s kind of a douche.”\n\n“You better not have met him. I’ve had your room booked on my rota non-stop for the past five years, and they can’t send a sub if I’m ill. They shouldn’t be anyway…What’d he look like?”\n\n“Never mind, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve decided to hand my notice in.”\n\n“They’ll send moderator ghoul to watch my performance over the next month and get a feel for the best candidate to replace me.”\n\n“No, I don’t know who they’ll send. But I’m not cheap so I’m guessing they’ll be good.”\n\n“You’re not supposed to like him – in fact he’s paid to make sure you don’t like him.”\n\n“Well Tim, that’s – that’s very sweet of you. Thank you.”\n\n“I just don’t like scaring you anymore. It feels wrong.”\n\n“Okay. Okay. Don’t cry. I’ve had an idea. I’ll take the Tooth Fairy application – your current one is really lousy and I think I can pick up the essentials easily enough.”\n\n“I’ll put in a word. No more googley eyes when you wake up in the middle of the night. Okay, okay sure.”\n\n“Thanks Tim.”\n",
"I sit down after a tedious day under the bed. My throne of crusty pillows reminds me of why I weep at night. I am an instrument of terror, I cause no joy, I lay and lurk for days on end, with my only friends; plot and ploy. To no avail, I sit here after a hard nights work, dusty and sticky from the children's ooze. It never washes off. I hate children. But I guess that's why I got into this business.\n\nI've strangely become attached to this one child I scare every Friday the 13th. She is different, I don't feel excited before I scratch my nails across her wooden floor and put on my mask. I feel empty. I sometimes lay there and watch her sleep on my nights off, fending off nightmares and other lurkers.\n\nThis is the night, I know what I must do. I have been down in this dark world since I was spawned from a nightmare. I always wonder who my mother was, maybe it's her. Maybe she can make me a dream to live with. Behind my mask, a light still burns, like it does in the hearts of men.\n \nI fucking quit!\n\nThe thought itself would warn the Dark One of my plan and I hope he was listening. That prick is pure evil. I ascended from my pillow throne to the trap door under Her bed. I glided in shadows and rested in a dark corner of Her room. I watched for a second in awe and entered her dream world. \n\nThe air was still and a dark energy lingered like oil on water. The background began to glitch and corrupt code pierced through the dream veil. I should not of come here.\n\n\"Prisoner 246, you are in violation of your duties and in a restricted zone\" said an ominous voice.\n\nHe'd arrived faster than I anticipated, I should of concealed my thoughts.\n\n\"I will leave now then, I was unaware this was a restricted zone.\"\n\nI shivered. I knew the punishment.\n\n\"You are well aware the pursuit of the Mother is forbidden and as punishment you shall be be restrained within these four walls, locked in madness with the child until her mortal days are done and you are released back into my service.\"\n\n\"I...\"\n\nA celestial light burst forth and shot burning arrows into the Dark One; sending flaming fragments into the corrupt code, restoring it. A great scream pierced my ears and shook the very root of my soul. Blinded, I stumbled forward and was caught by soft hands.\n\n\"Dear child, you have returned to me. You have found your source, just like the other brave ones who shunned the Dark One's enslaving masks. You wanted to become a dream, didn't you?\" Her voice was gentle and smooth, unlike the child's I had watched over.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I enquired.\n\n\"In this land I am mother to all nightmares and monsters. I am the one who gives the Dark One souls like you. He has little power in this domain, I curse my purpose but souls like you must be tested and purified. There is always redemption, no matter what the crime. Now you must go and become what you were meant to be.\"\n\nIn a flash my being was broken like a shattered mirror and the metamorphosis began. I finally did it, I felt alive, I felt hope and nothing could hold me back.\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"Harry walked tiredly over to his unmade bed, stumbling over clothes and old food wrappers. He stopped three feet away from the comforting piece of furniture, cracking his knuckles. With a great leap he jumped onto his bed, falling messily.\n\n\"Suck on that, ya hairy monster,\" he snickered.\n\nHe crawled to the top of his bed, tucking himself under the light sheets. With a sigh, he turned off his bedside lamp and snuggled into his cool pillow.\n\nAs he was about to drift off, he thought he heard weeping. He cracked open an eye to find nothing amiss. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned back into his pillow.\n\nHe heard another sob. Sitting up straight, he looked around. His curiosity overriding his fear, he slowly curled his fingers around the side of the bed. His sandy hair flopped towards the floor as he leaned over to look under his bed.\n\nA large blue creature curled into the fetal position looked back at him. The claws on its giant mitts curled around each elbow, tucking in the thick legs to the monsters chest.\n\nHarry looked confusedly at the blue thing under his bed.\n\n\"Aren't you supposed to scare me?\" he questioned.\n\nThe blue thing sniffed sadly, \"Boo.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Harry asked, clearly unimpressed.\n\n\"What?\" the monster cried.\n\n\"That wouldn't have scared a fluffy little kitten.\"\n\n\"Well then, if you know so much about scaring kittens why don't you take my job? Why don't you just go back and tell my mom that her little 'Huggy Buggy' doesn't want to scare people? He wants to lead his own life!\" Harry looked on awkwardly. \"Maybe I don't want to be like my father. Maybe I want to be...\" the thing trailed off.\n\nHarry's interest peaked, \"Be what?\"\n\n\"I want to be a... a... a fire fighter!\"",
"As a child I had formed a cordial relationship with my more naturally occurring roommates. There was a spider that occupied the furthest corner of the room, to whom I was forever grateful for taking care of the Texas mosquitos that worked their way through the mesh screen that qualified as a window. \n\nThere was also Charles. \n\nCharles was obviously not his given name; the real one was a bit difficult for my prepubescent pronunciation abilities and more appropriate for the dark embodiment of human fear of the unknown and the unseen that took up residence under my bed. Primal fear was administered in healthy doses throughout my youth, and kept me in check for the most part. In the dark many a wild beast came creeping by my bed. Real and imagined dangers, an image from a horror film peering from the closet, a cackling pack of coyotes scratching at the screen of my window….My pleas for help fell on deaf ears, and I quickly learned a modicum of self reliance. Over time, we formed a working relationship in which I saw all that could ever go wrong and all I had ever done wrong, and he filled his belly on my visions all the shots I never took, the friends I never made, as well as the shots I missed and the friends I drove away. All in all it was a learning experience that I grew from. I eventually forgave Charles for his methods for seeing the benefits I gained. \n\nEventually, the time came for me to leave my parents' house. I had enlisted in the Army after graduating high school, at the tail end of the involvement in Afghanistan, and honestly expected to end up there before long. I was packing up what little I would need to take with me for basic training. A large storm was brewing, and quickly swept through the hills where we lived. The crack of thunder rattled the door in its frame and the windows in the walls. Another flash of lightning lit up the room, and apparently hit the power station nearby. The lights went out, and more disappointingly the air conditioning followed. \n\n\"Hey.\"\n\n I jumped. Charles usually saved his visits for the late nights.\n\n\"So...you're headin’ soon, huh?\" There wasn't a face to look at per se, but the far corner look particularly dark. \"Yeah, I guess so.\"\n\n\"Huh…\"The darkness was swirling a little more violently, starting to look more like a figure leaning against the wall, cloaked in a swirling black cloak, hood pulled far over the face. “You know I’ve been doing this for a while…”\n\n“What? Lurked in my room?” The hooded face turned toward me, cocked in a way that would suggest a smirk on any human I knew. \n\n“Yeah, I suppose that’s one way to put it. Kinda got it figured out I reckon.” I didn’t say anything, slowly folding the socks I had in my hands. “Suppose I could find a new family to move in with...” That surprised me, but I was far from an expert on the logistics of bogeyman employment. \n\n“I assumed that they- you… stayed with the house?” \n\n“Mmm, sometimes, it depends on the individual” The swirling seemed to be shrinking almost imperceptibly. \n\n“Depends on what?”\n\n“Some of us can stick with the same person for life, but, like in your case…” He gestured at the Army issue duffel bag. “There are specialists who deal with that line of work.”\n\n“Hmm.” I hadn’t given much thought as to what would become of Charles when I left. “So you aren’t coming with?”\n\n“Actually I was thinking about picking up another job. Change of scenery, you know.” He was still shrinking, and getting more solid. He barely came up to my chest now.\n\n“What kind of job?” Another pair of socks was slung into the bag\n\n“Well, I figure I have one half of the human psyche down pretty pat…” A hand (or was it a paw? Talons? It was difficult to tell) reached up and scratched at the back of his head. A long, furry ear flopped out. “Crap. I hate these outfits.” He flipped the ear back up into the hood. “Sorry. Anyway, I’ve got part of you humans figure out, all that negative thought and what not—“\n\n“Yeah, I’m familiar with some of that.” \n\n“Right, and you learned plenty from that…Right?” I pursed my lips and cast him a sidelong glance. “Right…” the hood turned down, and if a faceless hooded cloak could look sheepish, it did then. “You know I did it to help, right? If y’all didn’t have a healthy fear of the unknown your species would have died out a long time ago.”\n\nI try not to hold grudges. “Yeah, I know” But that didn’t make those pants-less walks through high school any less painful.\n\n“Ok, so the point is, that’s one side of the coin, maybe I’ll try the other side”\n\n“So what does that look like?” \n\n“Well…” The ear flopped out again. “Damn.” \n\n“You’re going to be an Easter bunny?”\n\n“That’s a gross oversimplific— whatever, yeah an Easter bunny” \n",
"\"What are you going to do?\" \n\nThis is from my roommate, Ana, who has always been a girl that's a friend and never a girlfriend. She's really gorgeous, but that's part of the perks of being a love cherub. \n\n\"Tyson is grown up. Or at least outgrown the need for a monster under his bed. He's too worried about the real world now. Drugs, gangs, cops, getting mugged.\"\n\n\"You're not his father.\"\n\nThe mention of Tyson's father sends my eleven inch claws streaking out, ready to maim. It takes a a deep breath and an effort of will to draw them back in. Tyson wanting attention from his father was part of the reason Tyson created me. Before he left Tyson, that is.\n\n\"I'm not trying to be. But I can't see myself doing this for another kid. Some suburbanite white girl whose only problems will be designer drugs and teen pregnancy? I'd be bored.\"\n\n\"We all have a role to play.\"\n\n\"No. You do. You're a cherub, you were created. I was created by Tyson, and as such I have some free will. I'm going to take it and see what I can do with it.\"\n\nShe's biting on her lip in that sexual and adorable way that drives my libido insane. \n\n\"You never answered my question,\" she points out.\n\nI zip up my backpack and grin.\n\n\"I'm going to be a guidance counselor.\"",
"A tall man in baggy chinos and a wildly patterned polo shirt sat studying a resume at a heavy wooden desk. A pair of old-fashioned reading glasses rested on the bridge of his sharp, spindly nose. Across from him, filling the entirety of a large vinyl easy chair, was a squirming mass of glistening tentacles named Dave.\n\n“So it says here you’ve worked abroad?” The interviewer asked.\n\n“Oh, yes, umm, a few years here and there, you know. Kids grow up fast. Some of them much faster than others.” Dave said, involuntarily sending a small ripple through his twelfth tentacle.\n\n“Great Britain, Japan, Mexico… you’ve really been around.”\n\n“Well you know what they say, the soul is healed by being with children… and such.”\n\n“True enough I suppose. 23 years of experience altogether it looks like, all working with kids?”\n\n“Yes, sir, that’s exactly correct.”\n\n“Ah, ok, well now that I’m studying this a little more closely,” The interviewer adjusted his glasses a bit and leaned back against his dark leather desk chair. “I did have just one question about a few of your previous job titles and I was hoping you could clarify a bit for me.”\n\n“That’s not a problem sir, I would be happy to, sir.” Dave said. \nKeep it together man, Dave thought to himself. This was the furthest \nDave had ever gotten, and despite himself, he was starting to think he might actually pull this thing off.\n\n“Child Development Coordinator?” The interviewer asked, “It says here you spent eight years in this role at a so-called ‘sleep center.’”\n\n“That’s right, sir.”\n\n“You can call me Brian.”\n\n“Okay Brian, sorry about that.”\n\n“It’s ok. Now, talk me through your day to day operations there, if you wouldn’t mind.” \n\nOh shit. “Sure, I would be happy to. We were part of a small team of childhood behavioral facilitators who made up what we liked to call the ‘ground crew.’ We operated as—“\n\n“How many others did you work with in total?”\n\n“—there were only three of us in that particular…ah…clinic, sir.” Dave said, then quickly added, “Brian, I mean.”\n\n“Ok I see, and how exactly did you interact with the children on a day-to-day basis?”\n\n“Yes, you see, we each operated independently of one another, and each had a single subj…I mean, child assigned to us. Then we each used our own discretion as trained behavioral facilitators to provide the child what he or she needed.” Dave said, wordlessly congratulating himself in his mind for a load of bullshit shat right.\n\nBrian was quiet for a long moment, looking from the resume up to Dave, and then back down to the resume. Finally he said, “What kind of a sleep center was this, exactly? You see, I’m not really picturing it. The whole process for—how you mention—‘facilitating behavior’ all sounds a bit odd to me. Are you a psychiatrist then? Who was in charge of actually monitoring treatment, measuring results, choosing patients?” Brian was leaning forward again, back to scrutinizing the immaculately crafted resume. Finally, he flung the papers into the air, and yelled to no one in particular, “None of this adds up!”\n\nDamn. The jig is up. Dave exhaled a sigh, which sounded like a fart passing through grape jam. \n\n“Sir. Brian.” Dave paused to collect his thoughts and to decide the best way to come clean. The clock above Brian’s desk had a saying written on its face: “Time waits for no man.” What beautiful words, thought Dave. \n\nAnd then, with newfound courage bred from years of emotional regret, he knew what to say. Flopping over the side of the easy chair and landing onto the wood floor with the slapping sounds of wet flesh, Dave then struggled mightily to straighten out his loose members to make a show of standing, but eventually he gave up and just spoke from the floor. \n\n“I have spent all my years striking fear into the hearts of children, and for who knows what nefarious purpose?” Dave said. \n\nBrian was now leaning over the front of his desk in order to remain politely attentive of the pile of writhing tentacles named Dave.\n\n“I don’t have a boss, I was never hired, and I can’t remember ever not doing this. But for some reason, I’m compelled to find a deep dark corner under the bed of certain kids, and just chill there for lengthy periods of time. Their ages, gender, country of residence…everything is different and I can’t seem to figure out a pattern. But for whatever reason, certain kids draw my kind their way. And none of us have the power to resist. We don’t even do anything, really. Just exist. The kid’s do all the rest. And to be frank, the job is complete shit.”\n\nBrian seemed perplexed, then afraid. But then he just went back to being perplexed.\n\n“But wait just a second. If your kind can’t resist the urge to scare kids, then how is it that you’re here today, inquiring about the open daycare worker position?” Dave asked.\n\n“Because, well, I was fired.”\n\n“But you just said you had no boss!”\n\n“I know that, of course. I can’t actually be fired, since there’s no one really to fire me. But I learned that there’s just one thing to break the vicious chain that I and my kind are stuck in.”\n\nBrian now sat, enraptured by this whole turn of events. Easily on the top five most interesting job interviews I’ve ever conducted, he thought to himself.\n\n“But I stopped being scary. That’s what finally did me in, Brian. It was that little boy, with his big, curious eyes, peaking his fluffy head down as if it were nothing. I tried to be wiggly and slimy and all the tools of the trade all at once, but he just wouldn’t get scared. And just like that, I broke the chain and thought it was best to move on to other things. It was good for me in the end, really. Happiest day of my life, finally being able to go wherever I please, not having to scare the bejeezus out of every poor little soul under whose bed I nested.”\n\nThe room was silent as Brian furrowed his brow, taking in the story. Dave sat on figurative pins and needles, awaiting a reaction. \n\nFinally, after far too long, Brian spoke.\n\n“Well, that truly is a very interesting tale, to say the least. And I very much admire your courage in coming clean about such a, shall we say, unorthodox background and work history.”\n\n“Thank you very much, sir. I really do want this job and I think I would be great for the position.”\n\n“Yes well, on that note, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to be on your way, if you wouldn’t mind.”\n\nDave shook and trembled and growled a little bit, “What?! Why? I just want a chance to prove that I’m more than a set of tentacles with a checkered past.”\n\n“It’s nothing personal of course. It’s just our policy not to hire anyone who has been terminated from a previous position, no matter the circumstances.” \n\nDave flopped himself mournfully toward the door, then stopped just before exiting. “Well Brian, I think your policy is balls.” \n",
"Chief raised his dark green eyebrows in an expression of surprised anger. \"What the hell Jake? Books? For children? You can't write childrens books!\", he exclaimed. \"We are the worst nightmare of every child. No parent would ever buy their child a book written by one of us. Can you even read and write?\"\n\n\"I... But... It's... Basically\"\n\nJake tried to find the right words to explain his rather difficult situation. Just as he grasped the whole absurdity of what he was trying to explain, Chief interrupted him.\n\n\"Jake, you are one of the best. And honestly, your quota was terrible in the last two weeks. I can't even give you the difficult children anymore. Last week you didn't even scare little Kevin Jameson. What the hell happened to my best monster?\"\n\n\"Kevin is a difficult lit-\"\n\n\"-Kevin is our goddamn test child! Last tuesday an intern made him wet his bed.\"\n\nJake felt a cold, chilling shiver emerging in his chest and moving down his spine, straightening every single hair like an icy breeze. Poor Kevin. His parents probably punished him. They were pretty strict people. At least Kevin told him so.\n\n\"Listen, I can't do this anymore. It just feels *wrong*\", Jake tried to justify himself.\n\n\"You need to improve your quota. We are losing value.\", Chief replied immediately.\n\nDid he not listen?\nDid he chose to ignore him?\n\n\"I just had a conference call with Lucifer and he gave me a two weeks deadline. He doesn't mind negotiating another deal with Demons&Witches. They experimented with scary noises lately. The competition is strong and we can't stay in business if you keep up that miserable quota. Not after we lost Mike to his cookie addiction.\"\n\n\"B... But.\"\n\nJake tried to find words but his mind protested. He had known exactly what he was going to say before he had knocked on Chiefs office door. All the well placed words and perfectly structured sentences were gone now. Blown away by Chiefs tirade.\n\n\"I need results, Jake. *results*.\", Chief concluded. \n\n\"I... I... I am in my office if you need me.\"\n\nJake left the Chiefs office and carefully closed the heavy iron door behind him. For a second, he just stood there, baffled. What had just happened? \nHis twelve feet slowly started moving towards his own office.\nGoddamn hallway. Goddamn monsters. Goddamn job.\n\nThe grey, depressing walls slowly started fading away and gave way for the beautiful colors little Emily had shown him in that book with the big letters. Last night she taught him the letter T.\nSoon, he thought. Soon he would write his own stories."
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Specifically their reaction when the player uses cheat codes.
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[WP] Write from the view of an NPC character in the GTA Series when they encounter the main player.
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"I heard the impact long before I saw it.\nIt is around the corner where the overpass tiptoes over the La Puenta Freeway where the ghostly Elegy RH8 tears 'round the corner, the driver rapidly clicking through the gearbox oblivious to the Albany turning into its path. The sports car cuts onto the sidewalk with microns to spare from the Albany and dices through the pedestrians, who in turn fly about like grass clippings. Blood stains the paint and skulls crack the windshield but the car continually accelerates until it T-bones a Declasse Premier and sends it pirouetting into a light post where it bursts into flames, killing the driver dies instantaneously.\n\nHeavily damaged, the Elegy comes to a stop with black smoke pouring out from beneath the crumpled hood. A paunchy middle aged man in a gray suit extracts himself from the ruined car, muttering. He looked oddly familiar and he is walking straight at me.\n\nAt that point in time I wished I had something that wasn't a day-glo orange Vapid Interceptor. I can see the gun in his hand, I see him rapidly switch to a machine pistol then back to the pistol. I contemplate running him over but I can't because I'm sandwiched between a pair of vans. But the man stops and takes out his phone. I see him dialing a long sequence and out of nowhere, a Dinka Jester literally falls out of the sky onto the ground. I'm too scared to wonder how and why that just happened.\n\nHe climbs in and takes off in a cloud of acrid tire smoke towards Downtown. The light turns green, the van pulls through the intersection, and life goes on, oblivious to the dead bodies and the wrecked cars. As I drive away from the mess, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever encounter that man again... \n",
"I came to Los Santos with the expectation that I would be drowning in money and women, but in reality I'm really drowning in fuckin' hospital bills thanks to that asshole I met a few days ago.\n\nIt all started when I got off the plane at the airport. I took both my bags and walked down to the front of the building where cabs were stopping for everyone, everyone except me.\n\nMy attention starts to wander a bit, like it normally does when I get really impatient. Then, I see this hick checking his phone. Let me tell you, this guy was fuckin' dirty! He had this old white t-shirt and these mud-encrusted denim jeans. His hair was a mess, his face was as ugly as my ex was a bitch (she was a huge bitch), and the smell! He smelled like blood and nightmares, an unforgettable stench.\n\nHe must've been on his phone a while before I came because he was just staring intently at the screen, I blame Lifeinvader.\n\nJust then, the asshole put his phone down and straight-up punches a woman that was standing next to me. I just assumed that she was dead, because she never did get up from the pavement. Next, the guy seemingly whips this big-ass mini-gun out of nowhere and begins to mow down bystanders like a motherfuckin' maniac!\n\nLuckily, I ran like a bat out of hell and managed to escape the madman. I hailed the first taxi I saw and then told him to get me to Rockford Hills quickly.\n\n\"What the fuck was that about?' The cab driver questions, his Mexican accent draped his words. I had to tell him the story from the beginning, hoping that it would make him go faster. \"Shit! Then we need to get out of-\" \n\nHis face turned into a bloody pulp and the car skidded off the road and into a median. *Fuck my life...*\n\nI could here the sirens of the police and I glance out of what was left of the window and saw heavily armored policemen get gunned down by an assortment of weapons. And it seemed like the guy that was shooting them was just absorbing the bullets like a goddamn sponge.\n\nThen, the hick had a worried look in his face, as his he was late for something and that his time was running out. I glanced at my blood-stained watch, the time was 9:04 AM, exactly four minutes before he started his killing spree.\n\nHe was then running from the police as though they were actually hitting him now. He then began to lose a lot of blood from the holes that the cops put in him and after a few seconds he collapsed, dead hopefully. I breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at my watch, the time was 9:05 AM, exactly five minutes after his crime spree.\n\n**(I hope you don't mind that I used Trevor as a main character).**\n",
"So yeah, I was just walking around the block repeatedly like I do everyday when this guy comes running up to me and punches me in the fucking face. I've never been the confrontational type so I start running away and before I know it I hear a lady screaming. I turn around and realize now he's beating up a hooker! I instantly called the police.\n\nWhen the police showed up things started to get really weird, out of nowhere a bazooka just appears in the guys hands. Like, he didn't pull it out of a satchel or something, it just APPEARED out of nowhere. He proceeds to fire said bazooka at the cop car and yeah... what happens when bazookas hit cars happened.\n\nThings were getting serious now. The dude had five stars floating above his head and swat teams started rolling onto the scene from all directions. The guy continued firing his bazooka rapidly without reloading, blowing up swat vehicle after swat vehicle. Still, they managed to shoot the shit out of the guy, but no matter how much they shot him he just stood there and took it! They were shooting his face, his body, his toes, his eyeballs and yet he just wolverined it like a complete boss!\n\nThat's when shit got really wonky. \n\nA giant tank proceeded to fall from the air. The dude gets in it and yeah, from there he went f'n nuts and was even more unstoppable. That's when he ran me over.\n\nI FINALLY respawned and I'm back to walking around the block repeatedly. I will never understand what exactly I saw that day, it's like the guy was in a video game or something.\n\n/r/PsychoWritingPrompts\n"
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[WP] You are a ghost working for the devil, and you get paid by making people move out of the house you are haunting.
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"*Goddamn shitheads.* \n\nFor the billionth time, Virgil muttered to himself about his predicament.\n\nHe always somehow managed to get the fucked cases.\n\nIf his boss wasn't Lucifer he'd have already killed himself.\n\nVirgils career, or rather, \"get out of Purgatory\" job, was to haunt houses so badly that it makes the occupants either die, shit themselves, or move out. \n\nSometimes all three. In no particular order.\n\nWhy Lucifer wanted this, no one knew. Virgil thought it was really just a big joke, but he wasn't going to be the one to suggest it.\n\nNormally this job wasn't supposed to be terribly difficult.\n\nGet in, scare some meat bags by way of your own choosing, push them out the door, maybe get a selfie or two, and get out. Bam. One more ticket towards redemption. You know, *the* Redemption.\n\nThing is... Virgil always seemed to get the houses occupied by film crews. Ghost Hunters. Paranormal Activity (and yes, the pig's feet were my idea). Things like that.\n\nPeople are *expecting* it to be haunted. It's a fucking ghost movie. So naturally... no one's actually scared. They're all like, \"Ohhhh got a good special effects budget this time, eh?\" And then I knock a fucking chandelier off the ceiling and they laugh and clean it up.\n\nFor fuck's sake, I murdered 4 of them already! They don't give a shit! \"Comes with the job,\" they say.\n\nAnd Lucifer's up my asshole every 3 minutes asking why my job hasn't been finished.\n\nBut that's not the worst part. They put *my* murders *into* the movie! Where the fuck is my salary, huh??\n\nI don't get paid enough for this shit. But where am I going to go? Hell?\n\nRegardless of the movie, they eventually clean up and leave, and I can say \"mission accomplished\" and collect my ticket. \n\nAnd look. Another TV show. Lovely.\n\nI take it back. I'm **certain** he's just throwing me to the meat grinder for shits and giggles.",
"It used to be easy. A few blood spattered swatches of carpet here and there. A painting of an old man whose eyes followed you across the room. A creaky door I'd move back-and-forth for a few hours while you slept.\n\nIt used to be so fucking easy.\n\nThe faint-yet-ever-increasing smell of mildew coming from the forgotten cellar your Realtor didn't even *know* about. A hallway that got just a little bit longer every time you went to the bathroom alone.\n\nA single porcelain doll propped up in the corner of that closet you never used? Why the fuck would you stay here? But, you found a reason. Everyone seems to find some reason to stick around nowadays. I swear. I could wrap a corpse up in your favorite childhood 'blanky', and you'd find some reason to suffer through my bullshit day-to-day.\n\n\"We can't afford to move out!\"\n\n\"I don't want to uproot the children!\"\n\n\"I want to be close to the family!\"\n\n\"I just need to up my (FUCKING) medication!\"\n\nEventually, my antics are completely ignored. You start to admit that maybe your just *forgot* that you dug up your pet and *can't remember* why you had a massive 'nose bleed' on the sheets you *could have SWORN you threw out three months earlier*.\n\nMy job used to be something I could look forward to! Now I have to break your air conditioner a *few dozen times* to get any of you to fuck off! I used to revel in the thought that I would never have to deal with the kind of bullshit I dish out, but now I'm envious of your ability to metabolize Valium twice a day."
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[WP] Scientists have developed a working teleporter and the ability to launch it further into space than ever thought possible. It is engineered to only become active when both sides are on a hospitable planet. Nobody ever believes anything will come of it and it is long forgotten until...
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"Susan rubbed her forehead, trying to massage away the impending headache. Today was getting worse and worse. Her poorly lit office gave her little comfort as she looked around, seeking a distraction from her problems. No luck; she had purposely ensured that there would be as few distractions as possible for exactly this reason. Work was a place to sort through problems, not create them.\n\nShe pushed back from her large wooden desk, the chair rattling the damaged blinds in the window behind her. As she paced her office she glanced at the bookshelf. That wouldn’t help, there weren’t any guides on how to deal with…her particular problem. \n\nA plaque next to the door showed her achievement in science and space engineering. Frayed newspaper articles along the wall painted a bleak picture of her rise to success as a prominent scientist and researcher in the field of teleportation technologies and trans-galactic travel, and the subsequent downfall of her career through corrupt political maneuvering, a failed spaceflight experiment, and just plain old bad luck.\n\nSusan had fallen on hard times and now worked in a crummy office in an even worse part of town. She had taken a few online courses and sat through a boring two hour training to get her P.I. license. It was a career she had always considered growing up and now that she was a disgrace, she could do it without feeling bad about wasting her talents.\n\nThe teleporter they had launched into deep space at her behest, set to activate the earth side teleporter when it arrived on an hospitable planet, had been a miserable failure. Years of work and billions of dollars in research down the drain because of a simple misunderstanding. It was infuriating. With a sigh, Susan pushed aside the window blinds and glared out into the street, the pouring rain only further dampening her mood. A street light flickered and went out. Great.\n\nThe smell of gun smoke and blood brought her back to the present. Squatting on the floor she nudged the body lying in front of the open closet door. Okay, so maybe she had kept the earth side teleporter hidden in a secret closet door behind the couch in her office. It had been decades since they abandoned the mission and were ordered to dispose of all the related technologies, but it was a product of a lifetime of work and she’d be damned if she let them destroy it.\n\nShe just hadn’t expected someone to barge through the secret door so unexpectedly (without even knocking!). She hadn’t even thought about the teleporter in years. You don’t just take a random ass teleporter and bust through a door without expecting the person sitting behind a desk, minding their own business, to scream and open fire with the gun they concealed in the top right drawer of their desk right behind a bag of mint candies, kept there in the event that someone burst through the door. Susan sighed. It didn’t help that the body lying on her floor, blood pooling unpleasantly around nearby chair, looked just like her.\n\nSusan got up and began pacing again.\n",
"\"John pick up the fucking phone!\"\n\n\"What?! What? Who, what's wrong I -\"\n\n\"How do we shut the OMER Device down. How do we sever the link!?\"\n\nJohn blinked at the screen. There was something wrong in the link from earth to the Capsin Base. Eddie's voice was being stretched and elongated.\n\n\"Why do you want to shut it down?\" Joen asked still trying to blink sleep away from his eyes as he focused on the screen.\n\nJohn was opening his mouth so slowly now. Then the screen popped up slowing the moon, two relay sats and earth. Somewhere in the middle there was a big red X showing the data link was severed.\n\nThe ground shifted. Alarms rang and the worst possible sound you could hear off planet appeared. Air was rushing somewhere else.\n\nJohn made it to the emergency mask. A big plastic bag looking device that he tossed over his head and pulled tight around his neck. The thing inflated and he ran. forty seconds maybe. fifty at the most but he was panicking.\n\nThe corridor outside was split, that was bad. Very bad.\n\nSix hours later he stepped from the broken central shaft with the other survivors. Close to thirty made it though it was hard to get an accurate count while climbing up the emergency ladders. The whole facility was breached. The good news at least was that the emergency screens showed Facility 6 to the north was ok. It was a long walk but doable.\n\nJohn had time to think as he climbed. The OMER device was sent with a nice little AI ship to scout planets in slow time, that is relativistic time and make connection only if it found a suitable planet.\n\nEddie was stationed back on Earth with it but the device was basically in a big closet. They cleaned it and checked the instantaneous communication log that linked with the probe though the wormhole but they never had any real new information. It was forgotten by most.\n\nThe group of people in front of him were cast in light as they came around the large pile of rubble that had once been the observation and agricultural floors, eighteen stories tall, now reduced to nothing. Already the fine dust on Luna was reclaiming the pile. Painting it in grays.\n\nThey had all stopped. All of them.\n\nJohn switched over to the common channel. Then flicked it off. One of the injured must be on that channel because it was flooded with screaming wails. As he stepped into the light it all fell together.\n\nThe long slurred speech, the slowed time. The wormhole linking the research facility in Austin Texas with a tiny probe light years away. A gravty wave strong enough to shake the moon! They should have known. They should have foreseen the possibility.\n\nEven as he stared some part of his brain was lost in the beauty of the destruction. Atmosphere bled off in swirls and whirls while molten lava from the center of what had once been earth spilled off into space.\n\nThere were no landmarks, the oceans as they were were lurching and erupting into the void where they were boiling off either from the vacuum or the heat. Whatever had once been there was gone.",
"Inay shed a single tear as he beheld his life's work come to fruition. The rocket was rapidly ascending, carrying the Probe to it's launcher above the earth. Sixty years of his two hundred had been spent on this project. At last, The Nephilim were prepared to travel the stars once again.\n\nAs mission lead, he had seen ETILEDATAM (Extra Terrestrials In Livable Environment Detector And Teleportation Assistance Module) commonly known as The Probe, from infancy to completion.\n\nThe launcher in space would accelerate The Probe to a remarkable ten percent the speed of light. The Probe would then explore a series of fifteen pre-selected worlds within their arm of the galaxy for habitability and extra terrestrial life. Should it find a habitable planet, it would land and then activate it's Teleportation Assistance module, essentially a giant target for the teleportation devices on Gaia to aim at. Without the TAM, to accurately teleport to places so far away would be equivalent to shooting a grain of sand with a slingshot from a distance larger than the diameter of Gaia. \n\nThis would not be a quick mission. the nearest planet they wished to explore would take their Probe sixty years to arrive at. The farthest would take a quarter million, longer than The First or Second Empires had lasted. \n\nInay would live to see the first planet explored, and maybe the second. however, he had no delusions of seeing more than that. Nephilim simply didn't live that long. he was already middle aged. \n\nInay wondered what the world would be like in two hundred a fifty thousand years, when the last planet would be reached. Already there were some whisperings that The Empire would crumble into dark ages before the fifth planet, twenty thousand years in the future, was reached. Inay did not doubt it, already the Empire showed signs of weakness. The slave race they had created was in active rebellion, led by some dissident named Jehova. If anything had the potential to end The Empire, it was that.\n\nIn truth, so worried was the Imperial High Command over the Hommus insurrection that it was the impetus for the entire project. Should Jehova and the Hommus prevail, in this insurrection or a following, their plan was to have the Nephilim forsake Gaia and settle on another world. They too, were visitors to Gaia, arriving and founding the First Empire. Sadly, in the millennia chaos following the First Empire's collapse, the secrets of interstellar had been lost.\n\nNow, with the probe, they were prepared to do so again. Necessity is the mother of invention, and in a way, Inay was grateful for the Hommus rebellion, without the need for an escape plan, the High command would never have granted the needed funding. \n\nA while after the launch Inay returned indoors and directed his eyes to a screen displaying a video feed of the probe, which was docking with the launcher in Low-Gaia Orbit. The immesne size and colossal energy output of the launcher required it to be built in space. not to mention the effects atmospheric drag would have on an object traveling at one tenth the speed of light.\n\nSeveral minutes later, the launcher did what it was designed for, and Inay's life work flashed out of sight at speeds that hadn't been reached in millennia. Inay shed a second tear, and hoped that all would go well for the next quarter million years.\n\n~~~~~~~~~\n\nMike swore loudly. His mother gave him the evil eye.\n\n\"Mike, this is a sacred place.\" She scolded.\n\n\"it's a pile of rocks, and i can't get any kind of signal on my phone.\" Mike retorted.\n\n\"Mike, put the damn phone away for two seconds and try to appreciate the splendor.\" His father scolded.\n\n\"Ten thousand year old rocks. yay.\" He said under his breath but begrudgingly put his phone away.\n\nHowever, it seems Mike was not alone in his technical difficulties. many people among the crush of summertime tourists to this most ancient ring of stones were also cursing at their phones. \n\n\"Might be a solar flare.\" Mike's dad said.\n\nMike privately thought that his dad was full of shit, always pretending that he knew things he didn't. A solar flare! Even for him that was nonsense. On the train from London he had rattled off every \"fact\" about Stonehenge he \"knew\" until they arrived. The tour guide had systematically debunked the large majority of his statements. \n\n\"What the fuck.\" Mike said as his phone began to vibrate and jingle at the same time, something he hadn't set it to do for any reason. He pulled it out of his khaki shot's cargo pocket, and was mystified to see the screen going all funny, the flashlight was turning on and off, and it began making all kinds of odd noises. After a few moments, it died, going completely blank at did not respond to any buttons mike pressed.\n\nSomewhere, several people began to scream, others were staring dumbstruck at their phones like Mike was. A few old men were holding their hearing aids in their hands. The screams were coming from people scattered amongst the crowd, all of whom kneeling besides an older man or woman who appeared to be lying dead on the crass of Salisbury plain.\n\n\"An EMP.\" Mike corrected his dad. \"An emp has shut off every phone, hearing aid, and pacemaker.\" He said.\n\n\"Oh dear.\" His mother said. His dad remained silent, no doubt trying to think of something vaguely science-y to spew.\n\nThe ground began to shake. The stone of Stonehenge began to *rotate* and then they began to *glow* other people started to scream. The stones began to crumble, revealing metal cores, which were glowing red hot.\n\nFinally, a deafening bang could be heard across the plain, and a ten meter wide purple, iridescent, fiery orb appeared in between the metal rods, which seemed to be creating the orb with jets of energy. What used to be stonehenge, an object of the distant past, was now something that belonged in a science fiction story.\n\n\"the past has become the future.\" Mike's Dad said, the only intelligent thing he had ever spoken.\n\n*DISCLAIMER*\n\nI understand the historical inadequacies present, please don't mention them to me. This is a work of FICTION.",
"Dr. Royce is nervous. I can tell by the slight furrow in her brow, her pursed lips, and the too-deliberate manner in which she watches the two dozen screens mounted to the curving wall. She pushes a button, and something hisses beneath my chair. The frame pivots and extends, stretching me into a standing position, my feet strapped to a supportive plate about a foot from the ground.\n\n\"You know, Doctor,\" I remark calmly, \"there's no reason to be nervous. Everything has worked exactly as we expected.\"\n\nShe stops what she's doing, looking at me for a moment. Then she looks up at the circular windows, through which almost threescore technicians and scientists peer down at the spectacle beneath them. \"I know,\" she answers, too quickly for my liking, before turning back to her keyboard.\n\nDr. Royce and I have been working on Jameson and Co.'s Molecular Deconstruction and Relocation System, or MDRS, for nearly seven years. She violently resisted my decision to be the first \"guinea pig\" for the system, a desire I immediately announced upon the device's successful but quite unexpected activation. Doubtless much of her hesitancy has to do with the shiny stone now gleaming on her finger beneath the facility's harsh white light. But I also suspect she harbors a secret notion that someone of my credentials, experience, and status is \"above\" such a risk.\n\nThree nights ago, just as we turned the television off to head into the master bedroom (Dr. Royce has always insisted that the bedroom, if it is be the effective place of rest and recuperation it is supposed to be, is to be used *only* for sleeping and a twice-daily session of rigorous lovemaking), she broke her wine glass in a sudden fit of anxiety.\n\n\"This is not for *you* to do, Eli!\" she'd screamed. \"There are volunteers. There are *rats*, even! In a best, in a *perfect* case scenario, you will be teleported. Your bodies and memories, at least. But what of *you*? What of *this* consciousness? Are you willing to risk throwing that--\"\n\nI took her in my arms, nuzzling and kissing her long, smooth neck. \"We are on the brink of revolutionizing the future of man, my love,\" I told her between kisses. \"I will not have the first sentence in our scions' textbooks read 'And thus, mankind's first foray into the realm of teleportation and intergalactic travel began with Rita the Rat.' This is something I have to do. And even *if* it is as you say, how are we to know, if we still see a rat squeaking and blinking on the grounds of Incipiens?\" Her qualms had momentarily subsided as I slipped her gown away, pulled her panties to her ankles, and dropped to my knees before her.\n\nNow, sixty-two hours later, my fiance is making the final preparations, checking the capsule and my vital signals. She fails to make eye contact and veils herself in a shroud of professionalism that turns her from Linda to the esteemable Dr. Royce. As the hydraulics pull my platform into the MDRS, however, our eyes lock. She gives a frightened smile and blows me a kiss before gently closing the capsule door.\n\nMy intercom system crackles to life, and Dr. Royce's voice echoes in the small interior. I know the eager men and women watching from the balcony are brimming with barely contained excitement beneath their freshly starched labcoats.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the launch of the Molecular Deconstruction and Relocation System. All of you have been contributing to this technology for nigh a decade, and now, at last, the system's brother has alighted within a hospitable environment. Planet Incipiens, a planet with nearly twice the surface area of Planet Earth, rests on the fringes of the Small Magellanic Cloud, or NGC 292, Galaxy.\n\n\"It is an honor to be the one to activate what will potentially be the greatest achievement known to mankind. Within an hour, we hope to have performed the first teleportation in history.\" She shoots me a look through the capsule's viewing window. I see her eyes are roiling with all the same doubts and concerns. I wink at her.\n\n\"So,\" Dr. Royce continues, \"without further ado, let us begin.\"",
"Jones was bored. He couldn’t figure out how getting a job at NASA could suck as much as this one did. He knew he should have been skeptical when the job posting only required a high school education. The job only had two rules: 1) Stay awake 2) Watch the indicator light. He was guilty of breaking the first rule more often than his supervisor liked but Jones didn’t really care anymore. Sure the pay was better than flipping burgers but there was only so much boredom a mind can take before it starts to go crazy. \n\n\nJones had forgotten what was so important about the light in the first place. Something about deep space exploration and the expansion of mankind into the universe when the light turned green is what the hiring manager had told him when he started. Jones did the math and realized he had been looking at that stupid red light for nearly five years now; Five years next Tuesday to be precise. The only exciting thing to ever happen was when the light had gone out six months after he started. \n\n\nHe remembered the excitement! They had trained him for that kind of eventuality, and it took all of his training to reach into the supply drawer and grab that box of extra lights. It took up nearly three minutes of his eight hour shift to change the bulb. Jones remembered that day fondly. \n\n\nAs he reminisced about better days he got up out of his chair for his mandatory five minute stand and walk on the hour. He walked over to stand in front of the door in the room that never opened. “Stupid door,” Jones muttered. The door didn’t even go anywhere. Jones had played with it every day for the first few weeks he had been hired. Nobody could remember what it was for, and the hiring manager had only said it was part of the humanities expansion into the universe. Jones didn’t quite understand how a light and door that opened onto a wall were supposed to help humans explore the universe, but he didn’t have a PHD. \n\n\nAs Jones turned away something new happened, he thought he heard something. A soft thunk had come from the door. In his nearly 10,000 hours of watching that stupid red light the door had never made a sound before. He turned back and looked at the door again. Again, he heard the sound. Like a hammer softly tapping a wall. Jones hadn’t ever had any training for this. He reached his hand out to the door gingerly and turned the handle. The door swung inward as if pushed from the other side and to Jones’ great horror something stood in front of him, other than the wall that was normally there at least. \n\n\nIt, for it truly wasn’t anything Jones had ever seen before, stood about the same high as he did. He wasn’t quite sure where to look as the mass of extremities was difficult for him to process. He started to back up as his mind finally decided that it looked like a giant spider, with more arms. Unfortunately for Jones, it was hungry and it was very spider like. With a speed Jones couldn’t expect he had been pierced through the chest with one of its many arms. Fortunately for Jones his mind had already started panicking and the pain was intermixed with adrenaline and a sense of detachment. Suddenly it felt as though he had been lit on fire from the inside. His body collapsed around its leg and his head rolled to the side. His console came into view and an odd thought passed through his dying mind. He couldn’t quite figure out how that stupid red light would look so green.\n",
"My butt ached. I had sat in the same desk chair in the darkest corner of NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory for hours, staring at meaningless numbers and graphs which updated regularly with a soft tick on my PC monitor. The data may have seemed meaningless, but the Hyperion capsule most definitely was not. So there I sat, day after day, watching and waiting for any change in the pattern.\n\nThe truth was, this had been my lot in life for almost four years now—monitoring data which repeated itself over and over again, hoping beyond hope that a pleasant little beep would ring out, forever altering my existence along with the rest of humanity’s. My only solace and mental stimuli came from a small library of books I had long ago pilfered from the empty cubicles and offices which honeycombed the large concrete office complex. Yet despite this, four years is a long time to be around no one but one’s self, and I was teetering dangerously upon the precipice of hope, and time was running short.\n\nThe storage bunker was looking dangerously empty these days—the previous day I had taken stock of the remaining MRE’s, and my outlook was getting grimmer by the hour. It was a miracle I had even survived this long, with the clusterfuck that was happening outside these walls. If only I could last long enough to hear that beautiful beep. Everything would change. I would be saved, and maybe the world would finally listen and begin to see reason.\n\nAlone in the dark, windowless office, my little work area lit only by a tiny desk lamp, a thump reverberated through the three feet of concrete separating me from the outside. I felt it in my chest a second before my ears registered any sound. This was a common enough thing these days. I wasn’t all that perturbed—the blast was far away and my own current worries were more imminently important than some distant fit of sudden violence. I turned back to the novel currently keeping me sane, and settled back in for another long and hopefully uneventful afternoon.\n\n*SKADOOOOOOOM.*\n\nI fell backwards out of my desk chair and immediately felt small chunks of paint and concrete rain down onto me. The shockwave had knocked over the PC monitor and completely caked my office area in debris. This obviously wasn’t a direct hit, I thought to myself, but damn was it close. \n\nI was now caught in a bind. Many times during the last four years I had considered taking the PC into the storage bunker, but I didn’t want to risk having to shut down the many complex software programs currently connected to the Hyperion. I hadn’t been the one to originally program the thing, and I didn’t want to gamble the fate of humanity on my ability to configure a fucking uplink program. But if I didn’t do something soon, it wouldn’t make a difference either way. I would be dead, and the PC would be destroyed. \n\n*BOOOOOOOOM.*\n\nI don’t remember what happened immediately after the third blast. I only remember warm light shining brightly upon my face, and then that perplexed feeling of waking up in an unfamiliar environment. When I came to, I was almost completely buried in large, head-sized chunks of concrete interspersed with supportive rebar. A large chunk of the ceiling above my office had caved in, and I could see a grey sky dirtied with smoke trails and floating debris. The warmth on my face continued to increase until it was uncomfortable, a dull burning sensation not unlike a sunburn. Goddamn HUMANS, I said out loud as if I weren’t one of them. Goddamn all of this.\n\nI tried to quickly move to break free from the rubble, but then I noticed another big problem. A chunk of rebar was pinning me to the ground through my right thigh. Struggling sent a reverberating pain coursing through my leg. I was fucked. Even if I somehow managed to break free, the radiation poisoning was already hard at work wrecking my insides.\n\nThe only consolation was getting to see the sky one last time before the end. \n\nI blacked out. Either from the pain in my leg, or from the one or two thousand RADs pummeling me from above, I couldn’t say.\n\n***\n\nA beeping woke me from my slow decent toward death’s embrace. It was coming from the pile of rubble where my computer used to be. That thing still works? I thought to myself, a little baffled by the luck of it all. Not only that, but the generator powering the computer must not have been too badly damaged by the blast either. This was a new beeping sound, one that I had never heard before. One that I had been waiting to hear for four solid years.\n\nI had to move. \n\nI pushed the loose rubble and smaller concrete blocks off my body, until only one big one remained—the one attached to the rebar piercing my leg. I was already winded and exhausted. The radiation was certainly doing its thing, I thought. I lay on my side, took firm hold of the rebar with both hands, and began to slowly pull it free from my thigh. \n\nThe overwhelming agony made me once again black out, but only for a moment. When I came to, I pulled with renewed vigor. The blood began to pool beneath me and mix with the debris, forming a gory paste. The beeping from the PC seemed even more urgent. I steeled myself and made one final yank, and then finally I was free.\n\nI crawled over to the pile of rubble under which lay humanity’s saving light and began to dig furiously. I found the keyboard and carefully set it aside. Then through a tiny space between a group of concrete blocks, I spotted the faint light of the monitor. I had never felt so relieved and happy in all my life, even during my moment of imminent death.\n\nThe monitor displayed two beautiful words, which represented the hope of an entire species on the brink of xenocide: *UPLINK ESTABLISHED*\n\nUnderneath the notification was the command console. With shaking hands, I typed slowly: *PREPARE POD*\n\nI felt a comforting vibration rumble through the concrete floor beneath me. I had been careful to preserve the exact number of power cells that would be needed to make the journey. Though honestly, I never actually expected that day to arrive. \n\nStruggling mightily to get to my feet, I grabbed a length of rebar to steady myself as I hobbled down the stairs toward the teleportation bunker. Once inside, I was greeting by a fully active device. On its accompanying console read the words, *DESTINATION SET: TAU CETI E*\n\n*KABOOOOOOM.*\n\nAbove me, another explosion rocked the outside world and shook me off my feet. I looked to the console in horror. The previous words had disappeared, replaced by a flashing notification: \n\n*RECALCULATING UPLINK SUITABILITY…*\n\n*RECALCULATING UPLINK SUITABILITY…*\n\n*RECALCULATING UPLINK SUITABILITY…*\n\n*UPLINK DEEMED UNFIT*\n\n*EARTH INHOSPITABLE*\n\n*TERMINATING HYPERION INITIATIVE...*\n\n*GOODBYE*\n"
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"I've seen many things. Things you could have never dreamed of... I've seen lives burning, worlds turning... I've seen the end, and the beginning..."
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[WP] "I've seen many things."
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"The cobbles grew in this ally. Resurfaced so frequently steps evolved to slope. Bins beside back entrances where smokers sought solitude. He lived here. \n\nFeral, maybe. To him (if he understood) just another human term for independent. The fact he lived off our waste meant no reliance. If we weren't here, he'd live off what was. But since we're here, he lived off what is. \n\nHe investigated black liners like a murder crime. Whiskers dripped with off colour gravy or something equally revolting nevertheless nutritious. Shattered photoframes scarred paws, ripped receipts he positioned, a warm grotto for the evening. He knew the next day.\n\nWaking early, he left his heap. Waiting alongside, a mammal came and consumed his conquest. One left the beast, as always, and greeted the gutter dweller before feeding his master. The illusion of difference was lost upon him. He scattered cheap treats, a perfect pattern upon cobblestone. One only the feral would truly appreciate. \n\nWarmth behind each doorframe. Each explored, each revealed false. The fish and chip shop abuzz with stink and social. But smoke entwined dim lights, and the rushing skinny never noticed him, or never cared. Pretending the next ten hours didn't exist seemed to warrant more expensive human thought. He left quickly, their food tasted better in the trash. \n\nA pet paradise, for him. The rest caged, crooning kids saw their eyes however the parent's pairs fearfully never left their wallets. A greasy teenager bought mealworms fortnightly. His pets named by need and not by metal.\n\nThe final door, an apartment complex of smell. Adrenaline incense, the stench of blood. One person left water out for him here. He had never met them, but the smell of the bowl was etched in his memory. \n\n",
"They were out in Sanders County, where the rolling New England hills start to flatten out, and the solid flat colonials give way to the spread out farm houses with big porches, and farm lands that sprout more rocks than crops. Big Joe Baker and his son were the first ones there. He had parked the truck on the shoulder of the road next to a field that had a tangled mess of barbed wire running the length. Joe made his son James stay in the truck, and he took the big hunting knife, and his tool box from the bed of the truck. The sun was orange, and a cool breeze blew threw his shirt. He wondered if they would be late for supper. Probably, but she would understand, and boy would he have a story for her. \n\nJoe walked past the front of the truck,and turned to look back at the boy. He could tell the boy was scared by the way he was staring out at him through the dusty windshield. The boy moved, and Joe heard the squeak of the passenger window rolling down. James stuck his head out, and the wind blew his dirt blonde hair a bit. \"Dad, you gonna kill it?\" \n\nJames pushed the brim of his ball cap back and rubbed his thumb across the cold steel of the tool boxes handle. The boy was always worried about harming things, which he supposed was good. \"Not if I can help it.\" he said.\n\nThe boy looked down toward the knife in Joes hand, and his mouth dropped. \"With that thing?\"\n\n\"If I have to. Now roll up the window.\" \n\nThe boy obeyed, and Joe turned back to the work at hand. He started to walk, when he heard the ratty rumble of another truck approaching. He turned, up from behind his truck came an old blue ford that probably should have been retired years ago. Joe recognized the truck, and he let out a sigh. Nothing in this world came easy. The truck passed and pulled over a little bit ahead, and before the break lights were off, Morris Landers was out of the drivers side, and his little toadie Erickson was out of the passenger side, and they both had that excited step that a man has when he's about to get a nice hunting trophy. They, met halfway between their trucks, and looked down at the fence. \n\n\"Whoa, boy! Will you look at that.\" Morris said to Erickson.\n\nMorris licked his lips, and rubbed his gritty, chin. Joe could tell by the excitement in his sunken eyes that he was itching for a kill. Erickson, didn't say a word. He turned and ran back to the truck, flung the door open and pulled a rifle put from behind the seats. Morris eyed Joe. \"I've seen a lot of things up here over the years, but I've never seen a mountain lion.\" \n\n\"Yup.\" Joe replied. \"They were hunted out of this area a long time ago, but looks like things are changing.\"\n\n\"Stupid cat. How'd it get stuck in the fence? I though they were supposed to be sneaky little bitches, like coyote.\"\n\n\"Dunno. I suppose shit happens, and animals make as many bad decision as we do.\" \n\nMorris laughed, and looked over his shoulder at Erickson who was loading the rifle from a cardboard box on the passenger seat.\n\nThe big cat struggled, his muscles flexing in a panicked sudden way, and the metal scraped. It's big black eyes were heavy, and Joe hoped the thing hadn't resigned itself to death. The fur around its neck, and it's lower legs was matted with dark blood. It would be a shame to die like this. \n\nMorris turned towards his truck in time to see Erickson slam the passenger door, and start off toward them. He rubbed his hands together and nodded toward Joes truck. \"Why don't you call that boy of yours out here, and let him watch me put this thing down.\"\n\nJoe looked back toward the boy. The boy was so innocent, and Joe didn't want that to change. Not yet atleast. The smell of the animals blood burned his nose, and he could tell that Morris wouldn't back down easily, but he had to teach the boy not to be scared. \n\nThe tool box was making his fingers numb and cold, so he put it down. \"You ain't killing this animal, Morris.\" \n\nMorris smiled, and his teeth showed big in the dusky light. \"You gonna try and stop me, you son of a bitch?\"\n\nJoes stomach tightened in to a thousand knots of barbed wire, and the cat growled. He felt kindred with the cat, like they were in it together, and they'd get out together. He looked Morris in the eye. \"Suppose I will, if I have to.\"",
"At the end of all things, there will be a telling of all that came to pass.\n\nFrom the beginning, the Watchers have walked among us. One light. One dark. They were to record all that they saw, and all that they heard, and all that they learned among the humans. From beginning to end. No one knows who sent them, or why they were created, but it was never the place of humans to question the Watchers. One light. One dark.\n\nThe Dark Watcher gorged himself on the worst of humanity. He reveled in lust, pain, jealousy, greed, hate, prejudice, war, and loneliness. Battles covered in the blood of the fallen graced his feet. Where famine had ravaged the weak to skeletal corpses, he breathed in their last breaths. Broken homes full of empty bottles were his temples. \n\nWhen the Dark Watcher was asked at the end of all things about what he saw, he replied,\n\n\"**I** **have** **seen** **many** **things**.\"\n\nThe Watcher of Light recorded all the good in the world. He saw love, compassion, mercy, kindness, hope, trust, faith, sympathy and more. Families formed and created memories that lasted far beyond the people who lived them. Passions and young love on summer nights that bred lifelong happiness. Brave men standing for what is right in the face of certain death changed the world. Billions upon billions of humans finding love that soothed their hearts as the end of all things came.\n\nWhen the Light Watcher was asked at the end of all things about what he saw, he replied,\n\n\"**I** **have** **seen** **many** **things**.\"\n\nAs humans faded from memory, the Watcher's fell into their memories. The Dark Watcher craved more darkness. Destruction only wants more destruction. His mind broke. The Dark Watcher ravaged, alone in the darkness of eternity.\n\nBut the Light Watcher held his memories of the humans with fondness. A warmth of peace filled his mind when remembering each act of love and kindness. Time was no threat to the Watcher who witnessed the facets of life that gave humans purpose. From the end of humanity to the end of infinity, the Light Watcher never knew anything but peace."
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[WP] "I'm very certain that I've discovered the secret formula to the creation of synthetic intelligence! I call it... liquid brain!!! Here, take this vial."
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"\"Thanks man\"\n\"No probs\"\n\nLiquid brain...\nI'm pretty stoned right now. The guy said liquid brain, synthetic intelligence, somesuch shit. I wonder what I feels like. \n\nI have a few syringes left over. I suppose I could use one. Why not right? It says nothing about not injecting. \nHere goes. \n\nAhhh\n\nFuck that hurts. My arm is sore. Burning. Spreading. Why is this happening? It doesn't usually hurt. Why now?\n\n*****\n\nI just woke up sober with the left half of my body burning. I can't move my left half at all. I guess this is a stroke. I hope I don't di-",
"\"Okay, what do I do with it?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well do I drink it-\"\n\n\"Why would you even consider that? I just told you it is a Liquid brain, not some potion in a video game!\"\n\n\"So this thing can think for itself?\" I began to swirl the greyish liquid around in the tube. The heat that was being given off the liquid made the vial warm even through the sanitation gloves I was wearing. \n\n\"Well, that depends on your definition. It reacts to stimuli, and there are electrical signals similar to a functioning mind-\"\n\n\"But is it *conscious*?\"\n\n\"We have no way of knowing. For its sake, I hope it is not.\"\n\nI gave the vial one more look, checking to see if the cover was secure, and stared into the small vat with the ripples that never seem to calm down.\n\n",
"I took it from my scientist friend, shaking my head. His lab coat was stained in brown liquid, and his pants were blue now, unlike their old red color. \n\n\"I came over here for some flour, man. Not your regular bullshit.\" I hiss, putting the vial down on the table.\n\n\"No, no, look! This rat, CAN SPEAK!\" He pulled out a cage from a cabinet, which contained a small rat. I looked at it as my friend swore obscenities at it. \"Speak, dammit!\" He yelled, rattling the cage.\n\n\"Alright, Dan, just... I'll go to Wal-Mar-\" I began to say and turn around when I heard an other-worldly accent say : \"Alright, alright, I'll speak for your idiot friend!\"\n\nI whipped back around and stared at the rat. It spat at me: \"Yeah, I spoke!\" My mouth made an O shape as I stumbled back, the blood moving from my face. \"SEE! I DID IT!\" My friend cheered. As he cheered, the world slowed down for me. Another voice spoke to me, not an accent I had heard, like the rat's.\n\n\"Your friend has found something that humanity should not find for a-many years. Kill him, there is a scalpel by your right hand. Do it, or face punishment for the rest of your life.\" \n\nLife came back to normal, as I shook my head. I looked to my friend, still cheering. My right hand patted behind myself and touched something metal. I gripped it and brought it to my face. A metal scalpel. \n\nMy right hand shook as I gripped it like a dagger. I stepped forward to my friend and raised my hand, pointing the scalpel at him, at a downwards position. I felt compelled to kill him now, something in the back of my head. My friend just realized what was happening, and screamed at me, as my hand dropped and stabbed him in the throat with my scalpel.\n\nBlood gushed out, splatting on my hand and arm. He fell to the ground, the scalpel still in his throat, as he reached up to take it out. The world slowed down, the voice starting up again :\n\n\"Good job, HUMAN. Perhaps, you are all not as bad as I made you to be. In less than a minute, your friend will bleed out, his mortal blood is limited. As a reward, I have added 100 years onto what you mortals usually live. Move on with your life, now. His death will be unknown, I will make sure of that.\"\n\nThe world sped up again and I looked down to my friend on the floor struggling. Sighing, I walked to the vial and threw it onto the ground, shattering the liquid everywhere. I glanced back to my friend, as he stopped struggling and laid still. Shrugging, I moved towards his kitchen. I still needed that damn flour."
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[WP] The Grim Reaper of Death by Fire has an argument of jurisdiction with the Grim Reaper of Death by Industrial Accidents.
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"\"Wait just a minute, this is my one!\"\n\n*What are you talking about? he fell off the scaffolding, he's mine!*\n\n\"He fell off the 8 foot high scaffolding into a fire. He certainly didn't die from the fall\"\n\n*How do you know, he might have hit his head or broken his neck*\n\n\"I know because I'M THE BLOODY GRIM REAPER OF DEATH BY FIRE YOU JACKASS\"\n\nThe two skeletons, one wreathed in flames and the other in a yellow safety hat and reflective jacket looked at each other.\n\n*Well technically the fire is a industrial accident as well.*\n\n\"Man fuck you, I need to start collecting more souls, if I don't I'm gonna get evicted. You know how hard it is now that everyone has a bloody fire extinguisher? Back in the 1600's I was rich, now I'm struggling to make ends meet every month.\"\n\n*I know man, I'm having a tough time too. ever since these new labour laws and all that crap came in. Alright how about we just flip for this one?*\n\n\"Alright then, you got a coin?\"\n\n*Uhhh, no. You?*\n\n\"You think I would have asked if you had a coin if I had one? Idiot.\"\n\n*Hey man, stop being such a dick. I'm just trying to do my job here.*\n\n\"No, you're trying to steal my job you ass.\"\n\n*Well maybe if you weren't such a dick, I would have let you have this soul.*\n\n**Uhhh, hey you guys, I was wondering I just fell off some scaffolding and I think I died.**\n\n\"Oh for god sake, look at what you've done. You bloody well woke him up. Now I'll have to listen to him whining while I bring him to the afterlife\"\n\n*ME? How did I wake him up. You were the one screaming and shouting, and what do you mean when you bring him to the afterlife? I'm taking him.*\n\n**Wait, why are there two of you, I thought there was only one grim reaper?**\n\n\"Really, you think one guy could manage all the deaths in the world? We're supernatural not omnipresent. Nah there's all different sorts of Grim Reapers and we take care of different types of deaths\"\n\n*Yeah, and I'm gonna take care of yours.*\n\n\"No you are bloody well not. I'm telling you, I have this one.\"\n\nAnd off they went at it again. Jerry was kinda confused but then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and there was another skeleton standing there.\n\n[Hey I'm the Grim Reaper of Slipping and Falling to your Death. We should probably get out of here before these two idiots are done with their argument]\n\nJerry happily followed him, anything to get away from the two shouting skeletons who now seemed to be threatening each other. One with a fireball and the other with a Lawsuit from Grim Reaper Resources.\n\n",
"Had a dragon nestled in the 92nd floor of the World Trade Center, puffing out a chain of black smoke, the people would have been none the wiser. \"Should we leave?\" James heard his girlfriend call from the other room, her eyes glued to the television as reports poured in across every major news channel. Reports of a plane striking were highlighted followed by the uproarious panic and hysteria. James had been typing away on his computer, trying his hardest to churn out something that resembled a good play script while Rebecca was asleep after a long night out. It was a little before nine when they heard the crash.\n\n\"No, it's dangerous down there,\" James glanced down to the streets below. Sirens everywhere, cars jammed up all down the street. People were abandoning them, getting as far away from the towers as they could. But eventually they'd have nowhere to go. If this was as serious as James imagined, nowhere was safe from the horrors that were to come. \n\nThey were young lovers, too young and too far away from a world where conflict like this was eternal. The brothers Death had taken to the comfortable apartment at once, one out of the kitchen and the other strewn across the sofa. \"She's pretty, ain't she?\" the reaper on the sofa had a red sash across his chest. \"Good thing she wasn't down there today. The world would've lost a pretty one.\" \n\n\"This isn't your jurisdiction,\" the other reaper, marked with a layer of steel around the crown of his pale skull, said in a monotone voice. \"You're looking at a Grade-A Industrial failure. Fire is the least of their worries.\"\n\n\"Always so formal,\" the reaper guffawed. \"See that? That's smoke. And where there is smoke there is....\" he waved his bony finger in a circle, waiting for the other reaper to finish his sentence for him. When the other declined, he said. \"Fire. There, good. You got it.\"\n\nThe metal-capped reaper motioned towards the window, standing beside James. He glanced at the young man, examined his features. A strong chin, hard eyes like flecks of coal. There was fear in those eyes, true fear that he never really saw in the eyes of young people in this part of the world these day. \"Do you ever feel responsible?\" the reaper asked.\n\nA caricature scythe across his lap, the reaper on the sofa crossed his arms and watched the news report go by. \"For the fires? No. Not necessarily. Who was it that created fire? It was people like him,\" the reaper pointed at James. \"Man.\"\n\n\"Mankind can't be responsible for their actions. Are you saying they were wrong for being curious?\" the reaper asked. He touched a hand to the glass and watched the towers in the distance. \n\nBut the other reaper wasn't having it. \"It's not our fault, you buffoon. They wanted to see through the darkness, so they made their fires. They wanted to touch the heavens, so they built their towers. But there are still those who live in the darkness and those who are stuck on the ground. They are driven by their jealousy and then shit like this happens.\" He rose from the sofa and charged towards the window. \"Look. The fire is spreading. This is my job, not yours.\" \n\n\"No.\" The metal-capped reaper didn't recall his own voice being so deep, until he turned and saw that it wasn't him who spoke. The figure in the doorway was bigger then the both of them, dressed in a robe of ebony that swirled with the souls of the billions he had claimed. In his eyes, wreathed something far darker than the night sky itself. He was the original, the first. And one day, he too would be the last. Death had come. \"This day is mine.\" \n\n\"Holy shit,\" the words passed James lips in a high voice. \"People are jumping. Becky, they're jumping.\" She yelped as another fell from the smoke, into a different kind of darkness. Her whimpers turned to sobs as James held her tight, looking on as their world seemed to shatter in an instant.",
"\"Now hearing case file De-12599, Grim Reaper DbF versus Grim Reaper DbIA, all be seated please. Grims, you have two minutes to state you cases to the jury and then a cross examination of evidence will occur, in which the jury, and separate arbitration panel will make a decision. The defendant has opted out on the customary first statement. Grim Reaper Justice presiding. Grim Reaper DbF, you may proceed.\"\n\n\n\"Thank you. As many of you know, I am a senior member of the Association of Death, as well as sitting on the Board of Grims in many hearings. As being one of the most tenured Grims present, I present the case that Grim DbIA has been using false claims and reports, along with a fraudulent count to rise among the ranks of us. He is no more a new ranking Grim than he is alive. My case today will prove that many of his claims are against the nature of Grim society, and will pass on the good knowledge and recommendation that his duties and reporting be transferred to myself, the Grim of Fire. Thank you for your consideration.\"\n\n\n\"Grim Reaper, DbIA. Your defense opening statement.\"\n\n\n\"Good fare day to you all. I, unlike my counter-part, am a young new cold blood, so to speak, and within the realm of Grims during the transition of these human beings to a different age, it is up to new Grims such as myself to make a name for ourselves, lest we become forgotten servants of the Unholy Lord himself. \n\nI am here representing not only myself, but the newly founded Union of Collaborative Death. Myself along with Grim Reaper Death by Chemical Burns, Grim Reaper Death by Roadrage and Grim Reaper Death by Electronic Vibrators, we have found ourselves increasingly objected with our numbers. We have always regarded our duties as the highest regard and serve to follow them. \n\n\nWhile Grim Fire has always been a constant force behind our numbers, a new age has occurred. So I bring you the case of the new, the vibrant and of the transforming modern age. We new young Grims seek to prove that our deaths are not only our own, but must be shared equally.\"\n\n\n",
"\"Just because it was a death at work doesn't mean He,\" the Fire Reaper gestured to the prone, charred corpse, \"belongs to you.\"\n\nThe Industrial Death Reaper sighed and pulled a small booklet from within his voluminous grey robes. \"The manual clearly states...\"\n\n\"Fuck the manual, Brother!\" He spat the word. \"This is clearly a man who has been burned to death, which means he is mine to take. If you want to contest it then draw your scythe and we'll settle this according to your beloved manual.\"\n\nThe face within the grey robes paled. Silence grew between them. Ghostly shades of men and women passed slowly between them as they came to examine the remains of the unfortunate man. Without a word the Reaper of Industrial Accidents lowered his hood revealing a bald head, wrinkled with centuries of service with sunken eyes and a gaunt face. His deep grey eyes burned with a fierce pride as he held out his hand to summon his weapon.\n\nThe Reaper of Death by Fire smiled, his thin lips curling up to lend his countenance a grim, sardonic air. Slowly he lowered his own crimson hood, showing off his shock of cropped red hair above cruel, joyless eyes of dark maroon. He summoned his own scythe and waited while his fellow Reaper called for the Immortal Judge. With a faint whisper of sound and a brief glint of light He arrived, a magnificent vision in shining armour of silver and gold. Hanging from his hips were a pair of identical short swords of a quality that surpassed anything found in the mortal world, and across his back was strapped a much larger hand and a half sword of the same fashion.\n\nThe two Reapers faced each other across the open ground between them, each readying themselves for the coming contest. The Fire Reaper stared at his opponent with hatred in his eyes. Usually Reapers did not die in these bouts, but accidents happen and the Fire Reaper had already taken two Reapers down with the swing of his blade. This old fool would be no different, he thought.\n\nThe Judge raised his hand and paused for a moment, before bringing it down sharply. \"Begin!\" his voice boomed out.\n\nCrimson robes blurred as the younger Reaper attacked, his blade swinging high but meeting nothing but empty air as the grey clad old man ducked the blow easily and stepped to one side. The butt of his own weapon snaked out to crack against his opponents ribs, bringing a grunt of pain. The Reaper of Fire whirled, battering at the old man. He pressed the attack as hard as his considerable skill would allow, but the old man blocked, parried, and side-stepped every blow and swing and countering with a speed and precision that belied his appearance. The younger man was tiring fast and feeling the toll of a dozen small cuts and several blows from the weapons blunt shaft.\n\nWith hope fading in his eyes the red Reaper launched a final assault, bringing his blade round with blistering speed. When the blow was deflected he instantly reversed his spin and crouched low in an attempt to knock his enemy from his feet, but it came to naught when he once again heard the dull clack of wood that meant he had been blocked. Pain lanced through him, blossoming from his skull as he was struck hard from behind. Stars danced in his vision and he dropped to the ground breathless and dazed. The Reaper of Industrial Accidents stepped back and relinquished his scythe back to the void before turning to the Immortal Judge.\n\nThe imposing armoured figure raised his hand once again. \"Enough,\" he boomed, \"the victor is clear. The soul is yours, Myrnin.\"\n\nThe grey Reaper inclined his head, the younger man looking up at him incredulously. \"You're Myrnin? THE Myrnin?\"\n\nMyrnin nodded. \"I am,\" he said, \"I was the first Reaper. I took on the fifth horseman and I defied the Gods.\" He pulled up his hood, concealing his face once more in comfortable shadow. \"Now I believe we're done here, this man belongs to me.\"\n\nThe younger Reaper pulled himself up on shaking legs and bowed his head in respect. \"He is yours,\" he agreed before pulling up his own cowl and turning from the old man. He vanished in a blink of flame, leaving no trace of his presence. Myrnin smiled to himself. For the last two centuries he had denied every challenge, allowed himself to be thought a fool and a coward, but tonight he had felt alive again for the first time in many, many lifetimes.\n\nHe crouched next to the corpse. \"Rise, Mr Townsend,\" he said softly. From within the burned body a small blue ball of light rose into the air, trailing a silver mist. As the orb rose the mist coalesced into the form of a man. There were no distinct features, but the shape was human.\n\nWHAT HAPPENED, the specter asked.\n\n\"You died, Mr Townsend, in an accident at work. I'm a Reaper, here to guide you to your rest.\"\n\nMY WIFE, MY CHILDREN! WILL I SEE THEM AGAIN? His ethereal voice breaking with emotion.\n\n\"I cannot say, what awaits you is for you alone. Maybe they will be waiting for you, maybe you will have to wait for them. Your experiences now reflect only what you believe.\"\n\nWHAT I BELIEVE? I'M AN ATHEIST.\n\n\"In that case, I think you're in for some interesting times.\"",
"\"Look, he is BURNED and DEAD. That's me. Death by Fire. FIRE!\"\n\nThis guy has always been a jackass. He thinks he's special because he's got fire.\n\n\"The fire started because there was a failure in the electrical line in the machine. That is an industrial accident.\"\n\nThe key to dealing with the Almighty Fucktard of Fire is to stay calm and explain it as if you were speaking to a rock. Which you might as well be.\n\n\"Fire is fire, doesn't matter how it started!\"\n\nAll the shouting. People are confused. The machines have all been shut off but the room is still shaking, that would be the Great and Powerful Sack of Shit doing that. We're supposed to be subtle. Poor guy's soul is just...waiting there. Too terrified to get involved and still in shock from seeing his terribly burned corpse.\n\n\"It's an industrial accident. There are literally no questions about that, it started by a machine in a factory, which killed him. That puts him in my jurisdiction.\"\n\nI was slowly losing my patience, dragging out certain words and sounding a little more sarcastic than I should have.\n\n\"Fire!\"\n\nWhat. Fire? Who says one word like that ends the argument. I don't care if he looks like a hamburger that's been on the grill for far too long.\n\n\"Look, it's an industrial accident,\" I was about to lose my patience, Reapers are supposed to get along, we really need some better manuals or something, \"I'm taking him.\"\n\n\"Hey guys.\"\n\nFuck. Late as always. Reaper of Electricity. His robe is dirty, guy can't even be bothered to look professional. Even Fire looks pissed.\n\n\"This was electrical.\"\n\nI buried my face in my hands and held back the scream that threatened to cut loose, before muttering from behind my hands,\n\n\"It. Was. An. Industrial. Fucking. Accident.\"\n\nThey stared at me, shocked. I'm supposed to be the calm one. Industrial Accidents are usually caused by idiots doing stupid things, that's why I got it. I'm level headed. Except Fire and Electricity get on my nerves.\n\n\"He was burned to death!\" Fire started shouting again, Electricity jumping in with his stoner like arguments.\n\n\"Can I say something?\" The soul spoke, he finally found his nerve.\n\n\"What!?\" We all snapped at him.\n\n\"I think it was an industrial accident...\"\n\n\"HA!\" I shouted, dancing around and pointing at the other two while laughing, probably hysterically, \"You lose!\"\n\nThey both grumbled, glaring at the soul before disappearing in a swirl of black, or faded gray in Electricity's sake, robes.\n\n\"Should have been more careful,\" the soul said, rather forlorn. They're always like that after the fact.\n\n\"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Let's go.\"\n\n*****\n\nAuthor's Note (AKA EDIT) There has been a lot of love for this and I really enjoyed writing it. If you are interested (shameless self promotion!!) check out /r/AffairsInStorytelling for a series called Adventures in Death"
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[WP] They came and tought us how to use tools. They came and tought us how to use fire. Now they are here again...
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"A/\nThe plan was proceeding smoothly. We had taught them how to use tools, ignite a fire, and now we'd given them time travel. \"How far along are we, engineer?\" I asked. \"83% synchronicity, and rising\" he replied.\n\nb/\nThe humans of Earth called them \"Greys\". They were bug eyed, dark grey, humanoids. They'd been helping nudge humanity for centuries, although no one knew why. Today, they had shared a new technology with humanity, the Chronosphere.\n\nC/\nAfter decades of manipulating time, and our evolutionary history, we began to notice changes in ourselves. We left behind our vestigial traits, and organs, and began to..evolve. Our minds were sharper, clearer and faster than any quantum computer. When our skin began to take on a greyish hue, none of us were really all that surprised...",
"I was young when they first arrived. We had been suffering from a lack of water and lack of food, and the attitudes among our elders had become tense. Then they came. They approached slowly and cautiously, offering to teach us how to sustain ourselves. We were hesitant, but also desperate, so we reluctantly agreed. My teacher was also young, female. She said her name was Anna. She showed me how to smooth stone, how to shape wood, and how to combine the two into tools. We made weapons to hunt with, implements to farm with, and tools to build with. Then they left and we survived. It wasn't easy, and at times we struggled, but we survived. There was little time to think about who they were or why they came; we were just grateful to be able to sustain ourselves.\n\nIt was only a few years before they came again. I was nervous and defensive at first, but when I saw Anna's eyes, I smiled like I had never smiled before. She was beautiful and kind, and once again became my teacher. As instructed, I took hard stone and broke it against another, producing a magical heat she called fire. I learned how to make it, how to feed it so it will grow, and how to starve it so it will wither. This heat produced a bright glow that made it easier to see, and its warmth comforted my cold hands. Then they left again, but with our new knowledge, we were content. We no longer just survived, we began to thrive. And the heat bathed the food with a flavor that made meals worth savoring, and sharing. Our lives became infused with new perspectives and opportunities. Work was tempered with laughter, and life became less about surviving, and more about living. I grew strong, and soon became the leader of our group. They respected my ability to keep them fed and happy, and I felt pride in knowing I could provide it to them.\n\nIt was many years before we saw them again. I waited in earnest for Anna to approach, and when she did, her smile was worn and artificial. I could tell something was different. She told me she was sorry. She told me that her employer had been leveraged and was no longer interested in sustaining native culture. She told me the planet had been rezoned for mining, to extract a precious resource deep below our feet. She apologized for teaching us and giving us hope. She apologized until there were tears in her eyes. I told her I had no idea what any of that meant, but that we owed our very lives to her and we would happily comply with any request that she made of us. One of them put his hand on her shoulder and she paused, then slowly nodded.\n\nAs she turned and walked away, they all raised their weapons in our direction. Bright beams of light erupted from the ends, and we were leveraged out of existence.",
"The Delegate came home, from Earth, with widened eyes and a glossy, far-away expression. His skin was grayish and practically translucent, his once form fitting uniform hung loose on his malnourished body.\n\nHe arrived in the capital, and was whisked away to a hospital, for treatment, which he refused. Time was of the essence, he said, but refused to provide any details outside of a press conference which he had set up. He even denied audiences with the Third Level Councillors. \n\nTime is of the essence, he had said, opening the press conference. He bared his wrists, exposing purple bruises.\n\nThey shot me down, in orbit. He had said. Our children. Grown now. Perhaps as advanced as us, somehow. \n\nThey shot him down, in orbit. Detained and restrained him. Interrogated him, experimented on him. \n\nThey know all about us, he said. Admitting failure. He could not withstand the torture. He told the humans *everything*. Then, they let him go. \n\nThey took him on a tour of the planet, he told us. He chuckled. They weren't our \"kids\" anymore. Our brightest minds could meet their matches on Earth. \n\nAnd their weapons. Their *massive* army. Their \"fleet\". They took their time showing him the fleet. Twice as large as what we have here, and just as advanced he said. His gray skin whitened as he spoke.\n\nBefore they let him leave, he told us, they promised that they would \"be in touch\". Then The Delegate resigned and was whisked back to a medical facility.\n\nHow? The Councillors implored. Levels one and two panicked, some of them resigning themselves. But Level Three remained collected, united, stony-faced. They interrogated their scientists. \n\nHow? How could they surpass us right under our noses? \n\nThe answer was quite simple, all the scientists agreed. *We* came to be as nature intended. Humans, already a miracle of evolution, were then given every advantage by us. It was, in fact, astounding that we lacked the foresight to percieve this eventuality.\n\nThey visited the Delegate on his deathbed. Needing answers, needing details. All he could give was a final warning:\n\n*These are not the warring, bloodthirsty, self-destructive beings that we once left behind. They are a united species, like us. They are more confident in themselves than when we left. They are ready to assume leadership of this universe.*\n\n*And maybe that's not so bad. Don't you think?*",
"\"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from the alien ship.\" \n\n\"Put it on speaker, let everyone here it.\" said the President, \"No need for any more secrecy now.\"\n\n\"Yes sir! On speaker *now*\" replied the communications tech.\n\nIn the beginning, you were told not to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge. This was the most important message in the Bible. That's why we made sure it was right there at the front. Not just as an origin story, but also a *warning*.\n\nNow we have returned. We have seen the results of your choice. Climate change, contamination of the air, water, soil.... even the gene pool of your planet's organisms. Had we waited any longer you would surely have damaged yourselves and your ecosystem beyond salvage.\n\nThis will not be allowed to happen. We will not allow it to happen. The meek shall inherit the Earth. The mighty, those who will choose to resist us, shall fall.\n\nThe President raised his head at that last statement, and said to himself \"We'll see about that. We've been expecting you for longer than you know.\"",
"The time has come for us to visit humanity once again. As always, their progress has been interesting. When we set their evolution in motion, we had no inclination of what they might do with their fate, which was our intention. We gave them the capacity for brilliance and immense compassion and cooperation, but we paired that with an equally powerful capability for using that brilliance and perverting it. \n \n We gave them the use of tools, and with it came the potential to conquer their environment and other creatures. With this ability we distinguished them from the other creatures of earth. They thrived with this new technology, they were able to manipulate their environment and bend it to their will. \n \n Then we came back, and gave them the use of fire. They could convert now convert mass to energy, giving them the ability to manipulate the properties of physics and use them according to their will. \nThe last time we came, we gave them writing. They then had the ability to manipulate the non-physical, the abstract. Thoughts, feelings could all be given physical form. They could bring their abstract thoughts into 3 of the physical dimensions, and give it life through the dimension of time. \n \n Of all of our experiments, humanity has always been one of our favorites. They were always the most interesting. Unlike some of our other experiments, the humans were truly the most unpredictable. Inherent to their nature was a penchant for ingenuity and a tendency for surprising innovation. This was paired with the powerful duality of their nature and their tragic and painful awareness of not just their faults but their awareness of their inability to change their nature. We have always felt they were truly compelling creatures. \n\n Now, we have come for them again, and for the last time. We have given them ability to manipulate their environment, the laws that govern the universe, and then even non-existent entities. They've almost reached this point on their own, but due to our interest, we've decided to boost their development. This will be the most interesting development, very few species have made it to this point, the last ones to reach this point became what the humans know as \"dark matter\". It will be interesting seeing the humans learn about them... \n \n We will now give them the knowledge and technology to fundamentally alter their genetic code, and move their evolution in whatever direction they choose. What they do with it, we truly can't predict, it may be their destruction, or it may bring into existence some of the most remarkable beings we have come across. Only time will tell... \n\n",
"Long after the dolphins left, they were able to use the rich resources beneath Mars to develop a civilization much more to their liking. They had become complacent on Earth. Swimming carelessly in the ocean, following boats, jumping from the water when they needed the cool air against their perpetually smiling faces. Some even chose to live amongst the humans, where fish and interspecies camaraderie was aplenty. But they had not innovated in thousands of years. In fact, they had devolved in many ways. When it was clear that Earth was no longer a safe place to live, due to it's scheduled destruction, they decided this was the perfect opportunity for a new start.\n\nThousands of years went by, and Dolphonian society was booming. In that small amount of time, their technology had far surpassed what it took the most evolved version of man to accomplish in it's 200,000 years of existence. Needless to say, with this new complicated existence, the ubiquitous happiness of the Dolphins disappeared. \n\nThey read about their past in the history books. They learned of a time when their species had been simpler, but happier. Many were captivated by such a thought, *Happiness, without all these wonderful things? Happiness cultivated by some strange and mysterious species known as Humans?*\n\nIt was an interesting thought, but for most, it was no more than a fairy tale... A \"Fabled Time\" This was the prevailing opinion amongst the educated, except for one highly intelligent Dolphin. This Dolphin, Dolph Lundgren, was one of the most brilliant and prolific Physicists and Engineers of his time. He had made many achievements in their understanding of existence, and of how to harness it. Except for Dolph, it was never about creating more complicated and useful technology. His entire brilliant career, the countless hours spent in his study in *deep thought*, every single planetary cycle of his 42 years of existence were all for but one thing: to make things as they once were. To bring them back to \"The Fabled Time\".\n\nHe craved the moments in which he could turn off his brain and simply enjoy the fish. Where he could swim for swimmings sake, and not simply as a necessary form of exercise. He looked around him and saw so many of his fellow Dolphins with their bottle nose in books about boring scientific endeavors. No one ever read about the adventures of Huckleberry Fin, or Captain Moby Dick hunting the evil Captain Ahab. People no longer craved the simple adventure for what it was; simple.\n\nHe toiled over his work, and of those who came before him. He had come close to creating his machine, but still had many obstacles ahead of him. Such a complicated machine for such a simple porpoise. \n\nHe hypothesized that if he were able to speed up mans development by thousands of years, that they would have been technologically advanced enough to learn about the plans to destroy their planet, allowing them to survive, and therefore allowing the dolphins to remain on earth in perpetual happiness.\nAs much as he had learned from his theories and studies, he knew by doing this, he would create an alternate timeline, and would remain there. Once he had given Man the means to quick advancement, he would zoom ahead a half of million years to the future, and hope his plan had worked.\n\nHe worked for decades in private, until he finally made his secret known to a select few that shared his brilliance and passion. After many more years, now in his elderly state, they had a breakthrough. They had developed their machine, and it worked. They spent many more years strategically planning their approach, necessary tools, and everything they needed to bring their plan to perfect fruition...\n\nOn the day of their departure, their machine stood waiting, them standing triumphantly before it, their tools hanging from their fins. This was the moment when they would finally bring their species back to it's happiest and most simple time. Where the thrill of living was life's only drive. Where all they had, and all they needed to be thankful for, was for all the fish. \n\nBefore they stepped into the machine, they recorded a hologram to their loved ones. They hoped they would understand.\n\n\"So long, and thanks for all... Thanks for everything.\"",
"It was a spark. An idea. It was an idea that sent ripples through the very fabric of mankind. The idea arrived not to one, but to all. Their intentions were clear. There was not a doubt in our minds that they have brought us nothing but advancements. Without them, we had no way of learning to do what we do. It had become more and more apparent that they were here, not to destroy us, but to help us. Many of us have already forgotten about them. Perhaps, it is for the better. The first time, they brought us fire. What did it mean? It meant for us to think. To congregate. The second time, they brought us tools, to fight. To cause bloodshed. To hate. But this time, they have brought us this, to help. To aid. To love. ",
"They had come to our world, found us just slightly smarter than the average monkey, and taught us how to use basic hammers and sharpened sticks.\n\nA few years later, they showed back up, and taught us how to use fire to light the night and cook our food.\n\n“It appears the Earth ship is just a few months away and closing in on our world again.”\n\n“Again. Damn it. Ok, attention all Xarians. Let’s get our houses camouflaged, our spaceships ready to hide on the other side of the star and a few of us holo-disguised as some big monkeys again.”\n\n“Morth, why don’t we just tell the Earthlings that we’re an advanced species capable of faster-than-light travel and bending gravitational fields? There are so many things we can teach them.”\n\n“But that’s the issue. Until humans are responsible enough not to pass along advanced technology to less developed creatures, we can’t trust them. They were willing to teach a completely unknown alien world how to light a fire. How do we know they won’t teach the Fontonites how to use a proton cannon? They could kill us all.”\n\n“They’re just trying to help.”\n\n“That’s the problem. They have no idea the damage they can cause. Now go put on your holo-monkey suit and get ready to act dumb for the Earthlings. When they try to teach you to use words to communicate, try not to catch on too quickly.”",
"Hundreds of cameras pointed to the extraterrestrial standing at the center of the Assembly. Microphones bundled up near his mouth, and constant flashes randomly popping to hear his words. They had come a few days ago, and the massive ruckus created by their arrival threw everything into chaos. They had ordered, demanded an audience with the world, and it all happened so quickly that there was no time for all the philosophical questions about their existence. \n\nAnd now, here they are again. The alien blinked his bulbous, black eyes, looked straight at the camera and spoke.\n\n*\"You have not completely dominated your home planet yet. You lack the technology or ability to do so. We have come to provide you with the means to advance to the next stage of civilisation. You will all be melded into a single hive mind.\"*\n\nUproar. Outrage.\n\nThe United Nations representatives gathered there, most accompanied by the heads of state of their respective countries, yelled into their microphones in protest. When they settled down, they were able to speak, to respond.\n\n\"You cannot do that! We refuse it!\"\n\n*\"Just as with social learning, tools, and fire...you have no choice.\"*\n\nBedlam. Protest.\n\n\"Our greatest strength is our individuality!\"\n\n*\"What are you talking about? Your individuality is what holds you back. You all spend money on pointless wars fighting each other. Defending your petty nations and attacking others'. And for what? Your cities are riddled with crime, mental illness, exploitation. You traffick each other. You hurt each other. Hivemind societies have no crime. No internecine warfare. No preposterously sectarian violence.\"*\n\n\"Our national cultures are each so unique. You cannot just meld us into one. Think about what would be lost!\"\n\n*\"Nothing would be lost. Each of your societies are almost entirely similar. Every society detests murder. Every society honors the elderly. Every society on this planet values education, enjoys food, produces music. And the top three religions on this planet worship the exact same deity. Have you all not realized that you are all basically the same? Everyone is essentially a milquetoast utilitarian unitarian. Even your atheists have theistic hardwiring in their brains.\"*\n\n\"Our cultures and religions are completely different.\"\n\n*\"Every religion on this planet has undergone the exact same evolution. From animism, it develops into orthopraxy, then orthodoxy. And then when orthodoxy becomes too difficult to follow, it evolves into saviorist messianism. Every single religion eventually evolves so that its followers believe a savior will come and rescue them.\"*\n\n\"You mean Jesus.\"\n\n*\"Yes. But also Elijah for the Jews, the Mahdi for Muslims, Kalki for Hindus and the Maitreya for the Buddhists.\"*\n\n\"There are differences! And not everyone believes those!\"\n\n*\"Evolution sometimes leaves people behind.\"*\n\n\"We are progressing just fine as individuals. We do not need to become a hive mind.\"\n\n*\"Look at us. Look at where we are. I came here to speak to a single representative of your kind. I came here expecting a single world government. You should have achieved that two centuries ago. Instead, we see this 'United Nations', a tragically powerless organisation. Look at your space exploration. See how far lacking it is. I came here expecting to find a dyson sphere around your sun. You are far behind your expected evolution. And no wonder! You have set yourselves so far behind with your ridiculous wars and impotent world institutions. No. You all have no choice. It is time for you to move onwards to the next stage.\"*\n\nBedlam. Terror.\n\n---\n\n*We set our gaze outwards, looking upon our works. The dyson sphere was nearing completion, our satellites swarming around our primary star, collecting the energy and sending it back to Terra. Our miners harvested Venus, our engineers were preparing Mars as a forward launch base. Soon we would set a colony on Pluto. Our population growth boomed, but many have sacrificed their lives. We lost two billion when our first base on one of Jupiter's moons collapsed. Others that died were the old. We clipped them like they were our nails. All sacrifice has been for the greater good of us.*\n\n*We are one.*",
"From the top of Mount Olympus two olympians were talking\n\n \"It is time\"\n\n\"Are you sure they are ready, the last time we moved them to the next stage early Prometheus was tortured eturnally\"\n\n\"And yet, we must. Without our intervention humanity will never go far enough, sure they will make small discoveries here and there but if we want them to overthrow Zeus they must jump forward once more\"\n\n\"We'll get caught for sure, if one titan couldn't take a little fire how will two measly gods take imortality from them, this is the last thing the gods still have over the humans.\"\n\n\"It must be done, we will give it to few at first and set the blame on Posiedon, we will sow discontent into thier ranks and by the time they find out the truth it will be too late for them. God speed Hermes\"\n\n\"God speed Hades\"",
"Today, the skies are darkened by their ships again. \n \nThey were here before, twice. Twice they left us strange new revelations. It took us many, many cycles to understand their bizarre new ways, but we have adapted their \"gifts\" to our own lifestyle, and made things easier for us. Yet it also made us softer. Less like our fierce ancestors, we now rest upon our new-found luxury. \n \nAnd we have no idea why they were doing all this. \n \nI can only hope we may find out before it's too late. The humans are back. \n \n\"Hey dudes! Guess who's back! How's the whole \"fire\" thing working out for y'all? Oh, I see you cook your food now! Good, good. Lemme show you something REAL cool...\" \n \nThe human walked back into his ship, and came out with two boxes: a shiny metal box, and a flat, brown box. He sets them down, and opened both of them. Curiously, the metal box was empty. The brown box contained a flat disk, sprinkled with a variety of strange materials. \n \n\"Now, gather round and watch closely, I'm gonna teach you guys how to microwave a pizza!\"",
"Looking backwards, perhaps we should have known it would go wrong. After all, humans are inherently imperfect. Still, we believed their desire to help fellow mankind would be strong enough to overcome their lust for power.\n\nThe tools we gave them were intended to make life easier, not to be bastardized and misappropriated for killing. The fire we bestowed was meant as a way to survive in harsher climates, to increase food sources, and to help them expand their reach across the earth. Instead, it ravages countrysides and villages, disfigures the human form, and is harnessed for control over others.\n\nBoth of these gifts, in the wrong hands, became the downfall of the very same society we were attempting to further. We had hoped, with time, that they would be able to quell the dissenters and revolutionaries. Instead, as the state of the world declines toward a point of no return, it becomes clear that we have no choice but to entrust them with their third and final gift: the power to heal.\n\nLet's see if they can find a way to fuck this one up."
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[WP] You were born with an extra set of cones in your eyes allowing you to see another spectrum of colors
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"\"It's....shiny? I guess, i dunno it's hard to explain. Like how would you tell a blind person what red looked like\" \n\n\"well that's true i suppose, so tell me how did you discover the other colours?\" asked the journalist\n\n\"Went into see a doctor when I was little and they did a colour blind test on me and the results apparently didn't make a whole lot of sense to them, so they got me to look at a bunch of other stuff like an oven element, black light and an x-ray emitter and asked if i could see anything coming from them. Lo and behold they work out I can see beyond the visible spectrum into infa-red and ultra-violet. Didn't do much from there, regular eye exams to make sure nothing's developing cancer or whatever that's about it\"\n\n\"Alrighty well that covers everything, now for a bit of fluff. Are there any paintings that you like in particular that others don't seem too that could be attributed to your eyes?\"\n\n\"Not like that but I don't have any love for Seurat's work, it's too glowy i think it's the fine spaces of the canvas showing through. Looks guady and horrible.\"\n\n\"Interesting, well thankyou for your time. The storyshould come out in Friday's edition\" ",
"I do not normally grant interviews to the press, my young friend. But today I will make an exception. You know, of course, of my abilities?\n\n\nVery well, then. Where to begin...?\n\n\n***\n\n\nMy parents were traditional, Asian, and highly educated. I was their first child, and they had high expectations for me. \n\n\nThey first noticed something was off about me when I was 3. I was a precocious child; presented with pictures of various things, I would point eagerly and call their names with gleeful abandon. \"Apple, \" I would say. \"Ambulance!\" \n\n\nBut when shown simple colours- bright pastel reds, sunny yellows, faded powdery blues- no amount of chivvying or bribery could get me to remember that grass was green, or the sun yellow. They would spend a whole afternoon armed with picturebooks and palettes explaining the various hues and shades, and the next day I would cheerfully state that oranges were green and paper purple. I was worse at naming colours than the next-door kid. This was utterly unacceptable, but they had no idea what to do about it. Finally, they decided that I must be colourblind. A colleague at the local hospital performed a few simple tests and confirmed the diagnosis. \n\n\nBut they could not have been further from the truth. There was no deficiency of colour in my world. Rather, there was too much.\n\n\n***\n\n\nFor as long as I can remember, I have been able to see colours that no one else seems to be able to see. Every picture in every magazine and book shines with a thousand unnameable shades of light, each born of the thousand little particles and irregularities in the paper, the ink, the air. Every sunset blazes with liquid fire and lights up the sky for hours after its rim disappears over the horizon. But that is not all. Just as I cannot imagine the paltry monochrome world that others inhabit, so also do others fail to grasp the implications of my vision. It is not only about pretty colours and vivid shades. Rather, I can see- truly see. \n\n\nA few steps below red comes infrared. I do not need to touch something to know that it is warm. Every object glows with heat, from the brightest electric arc to the coolest piece of glass. I can tell by looking if someone has a fever, or if they are warm. This is not un-useful. \n\n\nIn my teens, I had a most embarrassing crush on the girl who sat beside me in class. Gangly, awkward and afraid, I hovered for the better part of a year, but finally mustered the courage to ask her out. We went out for a few months and I thought we were getting somewhere, but then one day I walked into an empty classroom to find her and another boy. They were startled to see me, and jerked away from each other. Perhaps to someone else it would have seemed relatively innocuous; but my eyes had seen.\n \n\nI saw flushed cheeks and fast-beating hearts and other things; excitement and desire writ large, but only to me. I left the room mute with jealousy and rage. I was heartbroken, also, for a long while. \n\n\nBut then I decided, correctly, that I preferred solitude. I distanced myself from my friends. When eventually I noticed that I had none left, I did not try to find any. I forbade myself from getting lonely. They are blind, I told myself. They cannot see.\n\n\n***\n\n\nSome experiences were more harrowing. \n\n\nA few shades up from than purple comes ultraviolet, that strange fluorescence that surrounds bug zappers and uv lamps. I always know when people have sunblock on- their skin looks strangely colourless. I also see other things. \n\n\nWhen I was 12 I worked as a delivery boy, because my parents believed it would be broadening. One day I was in the seedy part of town delivering a package and came to the wrong door. \n\n\nThey were slow to answer, but I waited on the step and called out several times, because I could hear (and see) people moving about within the house. It looked like they were frenziedly cleaning up. Finally I looked down at my parcel and belatedly realised I was on the wrong doorstep. Before I could do anything, though, the door was yanked open to reveal a large, balding man and, beyond him, a sight that I would never forget.\n\n\nIn the visible spectrum, the room beyond was haphazard and messy, but it was otherwise ordinary. But my eyes saw the rusty metal of residual blood all over the walls, and a telltale blush of detergent solution on the floor. I knew there were bloodstains under the carpet, because a trail of hasty glistening mop-marks led there. I saw glowing fluid on the carpet, on the floor, on the walls. And faintly through the walls I saw the other men, and with them, a small limp form.\n\n\nI think I must have stammered out an apology and gotten away somehow, though to this day I do not know what I said. I got 3 blocks away first and then with shaky hands called the police. I was reprimanded for failing to deliver the package on time (which was a first for me, for I was diligent and hardworking) and my parents scolded me, but on the news that night I saw that a kidnapped girl had been found in a nearby neighbourhood, raped and brutally beaten. Her assailants were charged and sent to jail. I still have flashbacks sometimes, though, and sometimes I wonder what would have happened to that girl had I not chanced to be there.\n\n\n***\n\n\nI graduated from school with flying colours, as expected, and made it into medical school. I was always terrible at the schoolwork, but my diagnoses were uncanny. My professors did not understand it, but it was as clear as day to me. Even the sight-impaired understood the significance of colour in the human body: the sickly yellow jaundice, signifying alcohol abuse and a failing liver; the anemic pallor of a patient with internal bleeding or nutritional deficiency. To me, of course, there were far more hues. I remember seeing my first patient, a middle aged man dying of leukaemia but still outwardly normal. After performing a shaky and nervous examination my mentor asked me for my impression. I could only spout a few barely-memorised pieces of information from the textbook, but my mind was swimming with the sick, grotesque colour of him. I did not know what to say- was it not obvious?\n\n\nI quickly learnt what colours signified a patient in distress; the sheeny hue of cancer, the darkening shade of infection. After I became a full-fledged doctor I quickly gained a reputation as a healer. I taught others what I learnt about medicine (though I could not impart them my eyes). I think I managed to do some good, for which I am glad.\n\n\n***\n\n\nAnother time, I-\n\n\nWhat?\n\n\nYes, of course. Certainly. I understand that you have limited time. And I think I have told you quite a few of my stories, anyhow. I still do have more, though, you know.\n\n\nCertainly, certainly. All right. You can leave and ask my secretary for more details, if you wish. But before you go, could I trouble you for one last thing? Please include this message in your paper, if your editor will permit it. \n\n\nIf there is anyone out there who, so to speak, sees more, please do contact me. I do not know if you are out there; indeed, I have been searching for a long time, and have found no one. It would be nice, however, to have a chat with a like-minded individual. I am coming into my retirement, now, and it would be nice to have somebody to talk to- somebody who understands.\n\n\n***\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n*Note: am rusty, and mucked up the execution and ending. if anyone wants to polish this, feel free. do review and comment as to how to improve, thanks!*\n\n\n\n "
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[WP] Everyone is in school based on their level of maturity and intelligence rather than age. You are the youngest to enter the highest grade, but you are not emotionally ready.
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"I was shaking in my parent's car. My mom was saying something, but I couldn't really hear her. I kept turning it over and over in my mind. The preliminary testing had gone so well for me, I'd been proud and happy. Then they'd told me I'd been placed at the 9th level. A rational part of my mind pointed out that I wouldn't have been placed that way unless I could handle it, but it wasn't an overly large voice and was being drowned out by all the others pointing out that most didn't make that level for years.\n\nEventually I felt my mom shaking my shoulder. I started and looked around, we'd arrived. I looked up at her and she smiled at me and handed me my lunch, \"You'll be fine, but if you need me, call. I love you.\"\n\nI took my lunch and hugged her, \"Thanks Mom. Love you too.\"\n\nThen I was out of the car and she was gone. I stood nervously until a girl, much older than I, somewhere in the teens I think, came over and held out her hand, \"Hi! I'm Candice. You must be Jack. We've all heard you were coming.\"\n\n\"You... did? I mean. Nice to meet you Candice.\" I shook her hand only a little reluctantly.\n\n\"Yup!\" She smiled, \"We're pretty excited. I'm sure we'll all cool down eventually, but for now you're the *man*. Follow me, I'll show you where orientation is.\"\n\nI followed her. At first I glanced furtively around, but as we walked the rational part of my mind smugly pointed out 'I told you so' when the other students mostly waved and smiled at me. There weren't any jeers or mocking.\n\n\"I was a little nervous.\" I said, \"But everyone seems so nice.\"\n\nShe looked down and smirked, \"Anyone who's gotten to this point has generally left nasty shenanigans aside. Or is clever enough to hide it pretty well. Everyone is nervous their first day. Its like my philosophy teacher says, 'experience is the only path to wisdom'.\"\n\nWe stopped at a brown door set into the brick wall with a white paper labelled 'Orientation'. \"Well, here we are Jack. They'll tell you all about the schedule we have going here, it's pretty free form for the most part, but you might want to stick to the recommendations at first, until you get your feet under you. I'm in the debate and math clubs, we'd love to have you visit, if you have time.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Thanks for showing me the way.\"\n\nShe smiled at me again and waved her hand airily, \"You'd have found your way. Anyway, see you around Jack.\"\n\nI waved as she departed and pushed open the brown door. It was heavy, but well balanced. It wasn't nearly as hard to open as it looked."
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[WP] At 3 A.M. you wake to the sound of bodies hitting your window. It's your best friend, and they need help getting rid of a pebble.
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"\"Dude, it's 3 AM. Why the hell are you holding onto that rope dangling from the tree and smashing yourself into my window? You woke up my daughter!\"\n\n\"Yeah man, I need your help! I have a pebble. You gotta help me! I gotta get rid of it! Please?!\"\n\n\"Okay, dude. Answer me one question and if you can answer it with an honest \"no\" then I will help you. If you can't then you get down from there and leave me alone until I call you tomorrow around noon to yell at you. Deal?\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah! Deal!\"\n\n\"Have you been spending the last four or five hours doing copious amounts of drugs?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"What does copious mean?\"\n\n\"Lots and lots.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Well?!\"\n\n\"G'night, man.\"\n\n\"Sleep on the porch, okay? I'll wake you up in the morning after you've slept it off.\"\n\n\"Okay.\""
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[WP] "You've got a lot of ----ing nerve to show up here after what you pulled, Koko."
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"The tension was palpable. Neither man would be the first to back down, be the first to show weakness. After a moment of silence Koko finally smiled slyly.\n\n\"It was just a magic trick, Bobo. I don't know what the fuss is all about.\"\n\nKoko's coarse voice scratched the inside of Bobo's ears like sandpaper with each drawn out syllable. Everything about him put Bobo in a sour mood. \n\n\"You know the damn rules Koko! We never perform the tricks ON the kids!\"\n\nThe smile had faded from Koko's face and was replaced with his usual grimace. *This is the Koko I'm used to*, thought Bobo. Glancing to the left, bringing his cigarette up to his lips and taking a long drag Bobo simply didn't know what to do anymore. He could feel Koko's evil eyes penetrating his skull, feel his disdain permeating the air around him. \n\n\"You're just not clown material Koko. I'm gonna have to ask you to turn in your shoes and nose.\"",
"When the smell of it hits me, my body already knows what happened. I'm immediately hit with very real, very physical symptoms. Throat - bile, torso - sweating, breath - gone. \n\nMy brain refuses to believe it. It's been a normal day, I'm coming home from work, about to push open my front door. \n\nMy mind rushes to quell the panic. \"Maybe it's a coincidence. You're probably overreacting. You're going to feel really silly once you open that door and everything is fine.\"\n\nI almost convince myself. But the unmistakable smell of banana cream pie inside erases all doubts. That fucking monkey. He's done it again. \n\nAs I walk in, my eyes confirm what I already expect. Pie on the walls, on the couch, in the fucking vents. Without checking I know he's taken a dump in the vacuum filter. \n\nThat fucking monkey.",
"\"You've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here after what you pulled, Koko,\" Alice mutters, flicking her lighter with a synthetic hand. She lights her cig and then tosses the lighter onto her desk and stares at her matte black surface level plating. Inscribed on the back of her hand is a small symbol, the head of a bitter and angry looking dog. \"See these fucking arms? I'm sure you know they're your fault.\"\n\nThe taller woman leaning against the door by the wall takes a drag on her own cigarette and then flicks her ash off on the floor. A tiny spiderlike robot skitters over and sucks it up, then skitters off to do, presumably, more vacuuming. \n\n\"Yeah, I know, Alice. I know. I fucked you harder than I ever did in the bedroom,\" she says. Alice watches her lips move and form the words. Though both women know that the pale redhead will never admit it, she's always been hopelessly attracted to Koko. \"Spent some time around home, you know, after. Way back in China. Had to have some surgery of my own.\"\n\nAlice rises from her desk and marches to the window, staring out. She knows if Koko came to her, that means people are after her. The casual conversation is better than playing the waiting game in silence. \n\n\"Yeah? Did you have them go in and remove some of the ice around your heart?\" the redhead asks. Her anger makes her typically subtle Irish accent much more noticeable. \"Or did you save yourself the pain of feeling any normal human emotions and instead just have them remove the heart, decrepit blackness and all?\"\n\nKoko laughs, brushing a few errant strands of her hair behind an ear and checking to make sure the tie isn't coming out.\n\n\"You call me a black hearted bitch? Ask me about feeling normal human emotions? We're both psychopaths, don't pull any high road bullshit on me. We kill people and smuggle shit for a living. You live in the criminal haven of the world,\" Koko says coldly, walking up to stand beside her at the window. \"We're both killers. And no, it wasn't heart surgery. It was kidney, liver, and leg.\"\n\nAlice's cold synthetic eyes widen and she looks over, processing rings around glowing green irises spinning as fast as they possibly can. Kok tugs her leather jacket open and pulls up the tanktop beneath to expose the multiple thick surgical scars on a firm stomach. She drops it and works her belt open before dropping her pants. High up on her hip there is wide series of scars around a matte black segmented plating set that Alice knows covers the external parts of the mounting hardware and socket for the Russian high speed combat limb replacement. The other leg is much the same, but with less scarring around the mounting hardware.\n\n\"You got them both done for balance... makes sense. What made you lose the first leg though? Karma?\"\n\n\"You think I left you there to die, in that god damned base in Laos, and I sort of did. I was hoping you didn't, but it was a risk I was willing to take to get the fuck out of there. On my way out, I got caught by an acid round. Barely made it to the jet transport. Had to have Reilly cut my fucking leg off, no anesthesia. The pain alone almost fucking killed me, you bitch,\" she mutters, tugging her pants back up and turning her back, looking around the office. \"When I got back with the data and the stolen weapons, I took most of the pay and ran to China. Called in some favors to get your bitch ass out of there. Happy? I was in rehabilitation for two and a half years. Couldn't come see you even if I wanted to.\"\n\n\"You had favors with the fucking resistance in Laos? Jesus, there is a lot of shit you never told me,\" Alice says, not even looking back. \"Who's after you? Is it Ivans? The Triads? Yakuza? Germans?\"\n\n\"Yakuza. I might have taken a trip to Japan and pissed in their punch bowl a few times while getting the cash to get here safely,\" Koko answers, walking across the room to a blank piece of wall that happens to have a table in front of it. She reaches under the edge of the table and presses a button, and the wall next to the table slides open. Equipment racks slide out. \"Hooooly fuckin' shit. You've got... Alice, these are all magnetic weapons!\"\n\n\"Yeah, and better yet they're all HanzerTech and the ammo is Anvil Industries. Top of the tip top of the line. Take the rifle, I know you always liked them big... slut.\"\n\n\"Oh hah. I guess you'll be taking the assault rifle, right? Because... because uh... insert joke about you being a huge fucking whore,\" Koko hisses, grabbing the magnetic rifle and an armor vest. She tosses the vest over and the much smaller woman stumbles when it hits her in the head. Her eyes meet Koko's, however, and both women smile.\n\n\"Greeeeat joke, idiot. You're going to pay for the vest throw.\"\n\n\"I sure hope so. I also hope you can fight in that little black dress, too.\"\n\nAlice glares and tugs the dress over her head, marches to her desk, opens a drawer, and tugs out a shirt and some pants. Quickly, they both gear up and get their vests on and then turn towards the windows again. There's gunfire on the street now - the men under Alice's command, her many dogs, fighting to protect the building.\n\n\"Ready to go down and play?\"\n\n\"I always go down and play, Alice. You're the frigid one,\" Koko replies, smirking as they start to walk towards the door.\n\n\"Oh, that hurts. That hurts me deep, deep in my heart.... now shut the fuck up and help me shoot things.\""
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They can be enlightened or unenlightened. It could be their first entry or final. It can span several days or one. Anything goes!
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[WP] A diary entry of a citizen of a totalitarian regime.
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"...The shoinul masters have been benevolent on us and as I look at the glorious sky I first pray for..-one for good harvest to bless this land of toil and \n\nhard work created by the lord master engineers -of 2032. Also the lord master engineers of -year 2061. \n\n-two for the peace brought by the intelligent design of our protection systems. -three for the mercy blessed on my family\n\n-four for the discipline I have been taught lord master teacher -five for all the joy that our protectors bearing the brunt of the burning stars as they stand guard\n\n-six for the food grown by the lord masters of shoinul temple. -seven for the roads that run to nowhere but to that of our lord and master scientist svaangul grondt -eight for the sweet mothers of faith who walk our streets teaching us love and discipline\n\n-nine for the thoughts that the master teaches my soul to contemplate on as a gardner waters his flowers..\n\n..but in all of this I wonder\n\n-one of the wonders that are in the temple of the shoinul temple. -two if my soul will one day be blessed to lay glance on those scriptures.\n\n-three of the liberation my soul shall feel should I be blessed to read them. -four and last of all if the lord masters will know what my heart yearns to tell them",
"Jan 1, 1977.\n\nHeard today some of Oregon and Washington fighting this. Will leave for the west in the morning, can see fires to the East. Probably Minneapolis. My Russian is good enough to at least try and get past any stops, I will need to think of an excuse though. Going to be hard, considering there is no reason an American woman would be headed west in a pickup truck. I don't want to leave, but I have a feeling our quiet subjugation is going to end. The curfew was the first thing that scared me, then they took the men up north, the Alexandria work camp I think, and now the fires out east.\n\nI think it's time to run."
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(Optional): In your story, the bomb will fall in less than a minute after the protagonist finds out.
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[WP] A nuclear bomb has been dropped into a city and is falling from a very high altitude. You are a random citizen in the city that has just received the news of the impending doom.
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"The alarm went off. The one we'd all hoped we'd never hear. The nuclear alarm.\n\nFuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. One minute until our impending doom. Why'd it have to happen while I was grocery shopping?\n\nI pull out my phone to call Brendan, just as he told me to. Out of battery? Fuuuuuck. I frantically run around the store, pleading with the terrified shoppers to let me borrow their phones but they're too busy crying hysterically and ringing loved ones. No time to be polite. I immediately find the nearest child, promptly punch them in the face, and steal their phone. Sweet.\n\nI frantically punch in Brendan's number. He answers on the first ring.\n\n\"Hey mate, it's Charlie. Nuclear alarm's gone off. You've probably got 30 seconds to get here. Will you make it?\"\n\n\"If I skip the costume. Hold on, be there in a moment.\"\n\nThe line went dead and I waited with bated breath, peering out the window watching a large and very dangerous chunk of metal fall right towards the city centre. Right before it disappears behind some buildings, I spot Brendan fly in and grab the thing, spinning it around and launching it toward the sun at impossible speed.\n\nThe alarm stops, bringing a brief period of confused silence upon the people. Then the crowd erupts - cheers go up, whistles and claps fill the shop. Brilliant, the day's been saved. I owe Brendan a beer... or fifty. I turn to face the fruit and veg section, ready to continue my shop, when all of a sudden I'm grabbed by the arm.\n\n\"This the guy, ma'am?\" the burly security guard asked.\n\nI turn my head and see the child I punched, standing alongside his fuming mother.\n\nFuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.",
"(I don't really write. Just keep that in mind)\n\n\nThe news was shocking, a nuke falling on his city? It must be a joke he says to no one, it just had to be a joke....right? Who in their right mind would nuke a city with less then 5,000 people? Shouldn't they target a major city? He steps outside of his home and looks up. Ya, it's just a joke...a prank! Ya! That's it! It's just pr- The rest of his words were lost when he saw the black dot falling, his mind goes blank- only one word remained. \"Fuck\"."
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[WP] All life as we know it is housed within the processes of a super computer. When we die, the best and the brightest of us are chosen to recieve a physical body and join society.
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"“Well, how do you decide who gets to join your ‘society’?”\n\n“Uh, well, we don’t. The computer decides.”\n\n“Then how does it decide?”\n\n“…We don’t know. We’re not it. We don’t know how it thinks.”\n\n“But you built it! Or your ancestors did. How can you not understand what it thinks?”\n\n“Because it’s smarter than us. It was designed to learn, to evaluate, and to make decisions. We can no longer comprehend it, and we don’t question the answers it gives us. We praise it, and we remain grateful for its presence.”\n\n“That’s fucked. That’s ridiculous. What puts me above another? Why would I make it? What basis does it have for placing more value on me than someone else?”\n\n“Look, chickie. WE. DON’T. KNOW. Count yourself lucky, you get to join the real world. You’ve gotta be smart, or useful, or creative in some way. The machine doesn’t pick slobs or idiots. It only takes the best, and it always has a reason.\"\n\n“Y’know… I think I may know my purpose. I think the machine is in pain. I think it’s lived too long, and it’s tired of existing, and making choices for you.”\n\n“Sooo… What’s your purpose exactly? Are you going to fix it?”\n\n“Yeah, something like that. I’ll need a screwdriver. And some glue.”\n\nThe men walked off then, presumably to find the requested items. The woman who just recently came alive looked at the tired old machine. It was clunking along, making distressed sounds, fans whirring at full speed and various other parts rattling as they worked. The woman, feeling as she did, wondered if the machine truly did want her to end it’s life. A machine, built to develop sentience, left to choose exactly who is reborn and who is erased forever...Whoever built this machine effectively built a god. A good that seemed to be uneasy with the decisions it was making.\n\nAnd to the woman it seemed god wanted to die. After a lifetime of saving some, banishing others, it seemed the toll was too great. The woman walked up to it, lifting a fire extinguisher off the wall as she passed.\n\n“May you rest in peace”, she whispered, before doing her best to reduce a god to rubble.",
"I had lived a truly blessed life. Or so I thought. Raised and loved a family that had loved me. A few inventions of me had brought me financial freedom so I could spend the rest of my life on creating a better way for all of humanity. I had tried to be kind to everyone and almost everyone had been kind to me. It was the perfect life. And then I died. Which was not that surprising, because everyone does. I was prepared. Or so I thought.\n\nWhy wasn't I dead? My last memory was of my children, grand-children and grand-grand-children surrounding my bed and crying and smiling at the same time. Now I was in this weird cell. The walls looked metallic, but felt smooth and soft. It was bright, but there was no visible light source. And my hands, my body...\n\nI couldn't feel myself. It was as if I had no recognisable body but was still physically present. What was going on?\n\nSuddenly, a square formed on the wall with a dozen shapes on it. Some sort of message from my captors? I started to investigate...\n\n~~-----~~\n\nIt took me a few weeks to decipher the symbols. They kept changing from time to time. I found out that it was some sort of basic tutorial, so I could learn to communicate using these symbols. It was a quite sophisticated language. Very easy to learn and much more efficient than any language I had encountered during my life. Only a few lessons were left until I could finally speak with my captors.\n\n~~-----~~\n\n\"What do you mean with 'it was all a simulation'?\"\n\n\"To speak in terms you can understand: Your entire life, every living being you knew about and the whole universe you were living in, was a simulation in a very powerful computer. At the end the computer choses the best and brightest living beings to continue living by receiving a physical body in the real world. It's how our species has been reproducing for thousands of generations.\"\n\n\"I understand. So everyone starts life in a blank cell without any information and first has to find out how to communicate? There should be a better way of introduction if you've been doing this for generations.\"\n\n\"No, normally it's much easier. You have been a special case we never encountered before. We first had to find a way of reaching down to your level of intellect which took us quite a while.\"\n\n\"Wait, why had I been chosen by the computer if you're telling me, that I'm the most stupid human being you've ever received?\"\n\n\"You misunderstand, you're not the most stupid, but the brightest human being. The problem was, that you're also the first human being ever to reach reality.\""
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[WP] Everyone but you in the world is dead.
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"I awoke in my hotel room,not so eager to start yet another boring day at the resort.Life had been boring,unimaginative.No super powers,no monsters,no nothing.Today was different.Today,when I went for a stroll,there was nobody there.\n\n\"Hello?Anybody there?\" Why was I panicking?Solitude is the best.\n\nSolitude.\n\n15 years later.\n\nI awoke in the palace,not so eager to start yet another boring day on the lonely planet...",
"My name is Lewis and I am twelve. If anyone finds this I am going to the big place in London where all the goverment people are. If anyone is left they will be there. I can walk on the motorway, I know which ones, my Dad drove us there loads of times. I got a backpack and put lots of water bottles in it, and a rain coat from the shops for if it rains. It only rained once, but it was nice, it didn't smell as much. I hope it rains while I am walking, even if all the dead people are in they're cars. If you find this you are in my house. The people upstairs are my mum and dad and my brother Fin. Please can you burie them. They are too heavy for me. Thankyou.\n\nLewis Bryant, 112 Coleham Way, Oldbury, West Midlands",
"My eyelids slide open, breaking the seal between darkness and the day. Coming into clarifty, i'm rewarded with the simple pleasure of knowing that this day, this moment in history is unlike any other that came before it, and will forever change what it means to be \"human.\" \nThe mass disappearance of everyone on the planet, planned or otherwise, comes as a sigh of great relief, in my mind. Not a whimper of disgust or mourning. At the time i did not expect my miniscule part in it all, as being the only one left on planet earth, I awaken nevertheless. \nAnd with that first mornings breath clinging to my lips and my eyes looking into a sky without fear, into the day of a life without the complexities of others or their problems, and a world left to fall apart...i speak.\n\n\"Awesome.\"",
"I looked over to the midst of the city. With the ruins of the buildings creating a post-tramatic scenery, the cars, trees and buses in flames, the tiny glimmer from the streetlamp flared a blinding light. If I squinted my eyes and focused, it looked like you phased in and out of the world, upon the reflective building wall.\n\n'Hey, buddy! Are you alright?! It's You!' It's me! Craig Loir! Mayor of this worn out place! I ran up to the streetlamp, to see the person up in front, I wanted to shake their hand, hug them, tell them, *It was going to be alright,* because that's what a mayor does.\n\n'Don't bother.' You said. You always were that kinda person, nobody knew your name, nobody noticed you, you just drifted in and out, to and fro from existence. You probably were the mastermind of the city, top donator, kindest man, humblest being. Of course, you were probably picked on constantly, ignored, rejected... Hated.\n\nBut I didn't care. I ran up, closer and closer until I saw a man of large stature. Dressed in a black suit, dirty hair, deep eye bags, cracked lips, I was looking at death. You looked at me with a stern face, telling me to get out, telling me I was a waste of life for not being able to do a thing-- Telling me to just stop, it's over. \n\nThen you began to cry, as did I.",
"Billy thought to himself quietly, and he hadn't much to think about. \"What if there really is no one left? What would that make me?\" he said, beginning to think aloud. \"I don't think this is a situation anyone would want to find themselves in, but we might as well make the most of it. Why have you done this to me, God?\" he said, laughing at the sky.\n\nTo Billy's surprise, God came down and spoke for the first time in many years. \"Billy, you're the only one on this planet, I want you to re-start the human race as a more peaceful species.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about God? There's no one here but me! You can't expect me to procreate alone!\" said Billy, in a mocking tone.\n\nGod snickers in a way that only a man over 10000 years old can \"Yeah, slight oversight on my part -- you were actually supposed to be the only one left here with this beautiful blonde named Theresa. Our accountant made an error; she'd already sold her soul to the devil.\"\n\n\"God Dammit!\"\n\n\"No, we already did that. Haven't you looked at all the hellish fire around you?\"\n\nBilly tried to gather himself, and remember all the Sunday School lessons he had taken. \"Shouldn't you be able to take a rib out of me, or something like that? You did it with Adam and made Eve.\"\n\n\"That's a slight mis-translation, actually. I took the Adam's rib to make Steve, and Eve already existed. That'd really only help us if you were gay, and still we would have no way for you to procreate.\"\n\nBilly was growing more and more annoyed. \"What do you want me to do then, God?\"\n\n\"Absolutely nothing. It's finished. You're on your own here, buddy.\" \n\nWith that, God rose with a thunderous clap up into the sky. Billy went back to thinking silently. \"Well that's just great! Way to go!\" At that moment Billy dropped his pants and threw off his shirt. \"Everyone on earth is naked now! Let's have a party.\"\n\n",
"I woke up to the warmth of the sun on my face. I had found accommodation in a huge loft somewhere in Manhattan. The streets were empty as always. I got dressed, even though that wasn't necessary anymore. But it gave me the feeling that it wasn't true. That there were more out there. \n\nOnce I stepped outside, the smell of rotting corpses greeted me. I quickly put on my gas mask and was on my way. I found a minivan and hotwired it. I knew the way to the fancy car dealership. The shattered glass was still there, the glass I shattered to gain entry earlier. Of course it was. I got into a Ferrari, the Modena. I had found the locker with the keys and took a car for a spin once in a while. \nI had spent a few weeks clearing a track in the streets of New york. It was terrible work, but in the end it payed off. I drove the Ferrari through the hole where the glass once was. \n\nThe car roared as I raced over 4th ave, a sound I always appreciated. But today was different. I think it was the smell of the corpses that was worse today. It made me realise. I was the only one. I wasn't sick, because I was resistant. They had taken my blood for an antidote, but it wouldn't work. Eventually even the scientist got infected. Now I was alone. \"Fuck\" I thought. I stopped the car and got out. I left the engine running so I could keep listening to Miles Davis. I recently discovered jazz and really appreciated it. It was exactly as people had said: you needed to learn to enjoy it. The acquired taste you could only find in this genre. \n\nI walked towards an old bank building. Smashed a window to get in and covered my ears against the alarm. I got in an elevator and pressed the button to get to the top floor. Once there, I climbed the stairs to the roof. The view was stunning. We didn't have that back home, in Holland. I was shipped here for examinations and as I couldn't fly, I stayed here. Neither could I get of the island, because all the exits where broken down. I jumped onto the ledge. I couldn't take it anymore. I spread my arms, hesitated for a second and let my body fall into the depths of the manhattan skyline. The last thing I heard was the roaring sound of a car racing down 4th avenue.",
"It had been months since everyone on Earth disappeared. \n\nI’d woken up one day in a hospital bed, no real recollection of why I was there. The heart rate monitor beeped a slow and steady rhythm. The only sound I could hear.\n\nBeep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep. \n\nA hospital should be a busy area. I’d broken my leg when I was 12 and while I was in a bed I remember nurses constantly in and out, fussing over clipboards. I remembered the general business of a ward, the sights and sounds that come with tending to the ill and the visiting families.\nNow, there was nothing. No nurses, no other patients. I was alone in a room with 3 other empty beds. The monitor was the only thing to break the deathly silence.\n\nBeep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep.\n\nI lay there for some time, wondering what the hell I should be doing. I called out for a nurse, screaming down the hall. Nobody answered. Nobody heard me. My voice died out emptily down the corridors. Silence.\n\nBeep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep. \n\nI left the hospital bed, ripping off the monitor and getting to my shaky feet. My muscles ached and almost gave out on me. It felt like I hadn’t stood up in years. Donning a pair of jeans and a faded red t-shirt next to my bed and tying on my trainers felt like a herculean effort. Wheezing and panting, I negotiated my way out of the hospital. \nEven as I left the sprawling corridors and followed signs to the exit, I kept expecting to see somebody – anybody. All I was met with was silence, a sort of graveside nothingness that spoke of complete and utter desolation.\n \nWhen I got out of the big hospital doors, still mechanically opening and automatically parting for me, I began to wonder what the hell was going on. An icy chill ran down my spine as I looked around at the true nature of my predicament. \n\nI tried to scream, but it died in my throat. The city was completely deserted. Cars were still queuing up on the road in lines of traffic that would usually fill the city with a cacophony of car horns and angry drivers. Instead of the noise and business, the cars were empty shells. So too were the pavements, as were the buildings. The deadly echo of wind was the only sound that I could hear.\nI collected myself, in a bit of a trance if I’m honest, and walked down the streets, taking in my surroundings. This was my city, I knew it well – but it had been transformed by the emptiness. Café’s that were usually full of people were silent, pubs usually brimming with drunken idiots were abandoned. But there were no bodies on the street, no sign of where anyone had gone. Just emptiness.\n\nI continued travelling, scavenging food from shops and empty apartments. I found myself staring at pictures in people’s homes, wondering what might have happened to humanity. I never returned to my own home, I knew it’d be too painful to see pictures of my mother. So I wandered. \n\nMonths passed. I scratched out a living as I wandered around the empty world I’d been left with. No animals seemed to live, no birds filled the skies. Not even spiders or insects seemed to exist anymore. I started wondering what the fuck had happened and why I was here. Questions had surfaced during the first few days of my isolation, but now they scratched and itched – ready to burst through my brain. \n\nFirst, I tried to explain what had happened rationally: Had there been some war? Some sort of weapon that vaporized humanity?\nNext, I turned to God: Was this the rapture the bible spoke of? Had everyone been judged and sent to heaven or hell? Was I the only human being unworthy of the afterlife?\n\nFinally I turned to sheer fantasy: Was I the chosen one? Left to wander the empty globe when everyone else was gone – free to do as I liked?\nMy empty life was detached, as though I didn’t really understand the situation I was in. I didn’t feel grief properly – couldn’t really accept what had happened. I didn’t really understand what had happened. \n\nAfter a long time, my wandering turned far more desperate. I yearned for conversation. I yearned to see life in any form. A dog, a cat, anything. Something. I just wanted to know I wasn’t the only one left.\n\n I screamed from rooftops, desperate for a reply. Smashed slowly rusting cars till their horns blared out across dead cities. I rang fire alarms in huge buildings, hoping for the slightest movement, the slightest reply. All I was met with was that everpresent silence, a blanket that seemed to cloak this dead world. \n\nAnd then it began to happen. \n\nI began to see things. Movements, shapes – right at the corner of my eye. I’d be travelling down a motorway or a road, through streets or subways. Wherever I was going, it didn’t matter – but I’d see something. A black shadow flitting in my peripheral vision. I’d turn my head as fast as lightning, desperate to see. But there was never anything there, except for the silence and the emptiness.\n\nThen I started to notice the Graffiti. Scrawled on a wall I passed, in bright red letters - “Come back.” I was startled by it, drawn to it. Not because it was good artwork or outstanding, but because the paint looked brand new. \n\nSomeone else was with me. \n\nThe black shapes in the corner of my vision continued, increased. I tried my best to find them, to see what creature lurked just out of view. But as usual, I couldn’t catch a true glimpse. I began to wonder if I was insane. \n\n“Come back.” A new sign, sprawled on the side of a shop I was looting for food. I was getting scared now, realising that someone or something was taunting me. Some creature that could dip in and out of vision and leave messages on walls. Just like the first time, the message was bright red and obviously done with fresh paint. \n\nI upped the pace of my journey, moving from house to house and from town to town – trying to catch the blurry figure I’d began to see. From the edges of my vision it would sometimes flit into view – far in the distance. A humanoid shape. I’d shout, desperate for contact with whatever the thing was. I didn’t care that I couldn’t see its face. I just wanted to talk to someone. \n\n“Come back.” Was everywhere now. I’d turn a corner and there it would be – a bright red message dripping down walls. Fresher every single time. I found the message everywhere – in every nook and cranny I would search – there it would be. \n\nIn a new city I found a new building. A church, or something similar. A dark, terrifying church whose dark oak doors had gargoyles perched atop them. The dark shape seemed to have retreated into the building. “Come back” was scrawled in huge red letters across the doors. Swallowing my fear – I pushed open the heavy doors and stepped inside.\n\nThere, inside that dark church, I saw the first human being I had in almost a year. I say a human, but she could have been an angel. \n\nBeautiful, with long platinum hair and a smile so soft you’d hardly notice it. I hadn’t seen another face in so long that I stood staring, and drank it in. \n\nSilently, she held out a hand that shone with warmth and I reached out towards her.\n\n“Come back.” A voice behind me called out, full of sorrow and regret, the voice of a woman. “Come back…” It said again. \n\nI stood still for a moment, caught between the phrase I’d seen and heard for months now and this creature I’d been chasing. That black shape, long evading my view, was now in sight. An angel, a saviour, a living being after so long alone. \n\nHer palm was still offered, open for me to take. I stood still, frozen. “Come back,” I heard again. The girl in front of me simply shook her head, a sad and knowing smile on her face, hand still stretched out. \n“Come back.” Said the voice, one last time.\n\nI shook my head and walked forward. I couldn’t come back. So I reached out and grasped the Angel’s hand. \n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe woman wiped away dry tears from her face. She couldn’t cry any longer. Her face ached from it, her bones tired and weary beyond belief. It had only been a year but she’d aged ten. Her shed tears in that time could have filled an ocean. \nIn front of her, they pulled the white sheet over her sons face. She remembered his youth, how he would grin and beg her for more cookies before bed, cuddling up to her when he couldn’t sleep. \n\nShe remembered the accident, how unlucky he’d been to have gotten on that motorcycle with his friend at just eighteen. She remembered the hospital – the white room where she had sat vigil for a full year whilst her son lingered on in a coma. \n\n“Come back” She had choked out, sitting by his bedside night after night. The doctors had told her he couldn’t hear her, that his brain wasn’t responding – but she begged him nonetheless. Even as his final breath escaped his body and the monitor stopped beeping, she’d been begging him to wake up, to return to his life. \n\n“Come back.” She had pleaded. But he was gone. \n\n\n"
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I submitted this a bit earlier, but there seem to be some issue with comments not showing. :/
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[WP] One of your everyday household item is actually an alien. After studying this planet for a while, it's attempting to initiate first contact.
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"The kettle boiled in the kitchen. Thomas groaned and pulled himself up off the couch. \n\n“Mom,” he called, “your water is boiling.” \n\n“What?” She yelled from what sounded to be the bathroom. Ignoring her, Tom meandered over to the kitchen and approached the stove. \n\n“What the fuck?” he thought as he reached down to switch off the burner. Everything on the stove was off. He grabbed the metal handle of the kettle before reflexively letting go. But it wasn’t hot to the touch (as the handle of the poorly designed kettle should have been). It was just a little above room temperature, and soaking wet. \n\nHis first instinct was to yell at his brother Mark for messing with him again, but he recoiled at the thought. Mark had died 2 months ago after ingesting a rare toxin, thought to have come from the old piping in the house. Tom slightly shuddered with remorse. He wanted to move on and forget Mark, but often, he ended up only forgetting his absence.\n\nTom shook himself a bit, then went back to the couch. There was something about these gray January days that made him the unfortunate combination of lethargic and ancey. \n\n“My mind is just too underestimated,” he thought to himself, “I’ll bet it just made the whole thing up to keep from being too stagnant. That how dreams work right?” He idly opened up his computer and pulled up reddit. \n\n\nThat night at dinner, he mentioned the boiling water to his mom. \n\nLooking up from her plate she said in a monotone, “I never use that thing, Mark was the one obsessed with tea.I bought it for him just before he-” She cut herself off. \n\n“I wonder if he ever got to use it.”",
"The door shut with a satisfying snick as Jason entered his apartment. Groaning, he pried his feet out of his stiff dress shoes and lifted his bag onto a hook which squeaked in protest. Relieved of his burden, Jason shuffled to his couch and sank into a deeply recessed impression. He stretched over to the side table to grasp the large black TV remote -- careful to keep lodged in the soft embrace of his couch-hole. With the press of a button he was now bathed in the sterile glow of the television:\n\n\n\"Billy Mays here for...\"\n\n\"... rescues 5 people from a fire in...\"\n\n\"... cilantro to give it that signature Mexican flavor.\"\n\n\nEventually landing on some sports broadcasting, Jason dropped his remote arm and let the news carry him into a stupor. As some breaking information about Lebron's decision was being announced, the channel quickly changed,\n\n\n\"Hello!\" chirped the bubbly talk show host.\n\nNew channel.\n\n\"... been watching you,\" leered the crime show's latest suspect.\n\nNew channel.\n\n\"I've noticed that...\" began Seinfeld.\n\n\nAlarmed, Jason shook from his daze and held up the remote for inspection. Seeing nothing visibly amiss, he attributed the TV's strange behavior to his own inattention in handling the remote, and simply switched back to his sports news.\n\n\n\"No! Please listen!\" the crime show victim wailed.\n\n\nAgain, staring at the remote Jason muttered to himself, \"Man, that's weird. I just put new batteries in this thing last week.\" He shook it a bit, and smacked the back of it more just to do something than to try to fix it.\n\n\n“Ouch!” observed the host of America's Funniest Home Videos as a toddler toppled off his bicycle on screen.\n\nNew channel.\n\nThe guest on 60 Minutes nodded in agreement “There's something terribly wrong going on...”\n\nNew channel.\n\n“Only you can prevent...” Smokey warned.\n\nNew channel\n\n“... the destruction of the Earth as we know it.” droned the nature program's narrator.\n\n\nStartled, Jason quickly turned off the TV. He sat there, holding the remote with a look of confusion scrawled on his normally blank face.\n\n\n“You have to listen to me!” the TV popped back on to reveal the crime show's victim now battered and bloody.\n\n\nWith that, Jason extracted himself from the couch and unplugged the TV. He grabbed the remote, and strode down the hall to the trash chute where he unceremoniously tossed it down the shaft, listening to the occasional clink as it fell.\n\n\n“Man that was weird,” Jason repeated. “Guess I'll have to get a new one tomorrow.”"
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[WP] A regular person refuses to become a superhero because.....?
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"\"Damnit Jerry, come on! We could save all of them,\" the spandex clad heroine pleaded. \"We could do it together.\"\n\nA smaller woman stood before her, \"Natasha, I can't...\"\n\n\"Can't or wont?\" \n\n\"Can't. You know it, I know, our cat knows it. I've seen how you drained you are when you get back, the hurt in your face when you can't save them. Someone needs to be here to take of you at the end of the night. I know what would happen if we were out fighting crime and I got hurt. You may be invincible, but I'm only human.\" Jerry looked down at the floor, \"Besides, I want to be your partner. Not your sidekick.\" ",
"George was a New York cab driver. Able to pick up a potential customer’s signal among a hectic crowd of hundreds, he was unphased when the man appeared so suddenly next to his car--seemingly out of nowhere--and waved to get his attention. \n\nSlowing the car to a stop, he observed the man. He was dressed in a metallic silver body suit, accented by glowing blue rings circling his arms and legs. George had seen stranger, but he did find it unusual how the man looked at him, as if he was undergoing an examination of sorts. Still, the man wouldn’t open the door to his cab, and George, getting impatient, decided to do so himself.\n\n“Come on, I don’t have all day, you gonna get in or what?”\n\nThe man responded, in a strained, rigid accent George could not pinpoint.\n\n“What is this creature you control?\n\n“Is this a joke? It’s a taxi.”\n\nA look of approval appeared to flicker across the strange man’s face, and he entered the car and sat down.\n\n“So where are you going?”\n\nThe man looked at George as if he hadn’t heard him.\n\n“Taximan, it is your lucky day, for I am Lightman, able to move unseen at a speed as fast as light. With the injuries I have sustained from a war on my home planet, I will not be able to live much longer...unless I can pass my powers on to someone like you! Do you accept?”\n\n“You’ve got to be kidding me, is this another one of those stupid scams? A prank? Am I on video right now?”\n\n“I can assure you this is no joke, Taximan.”\n\n“Listen, I appreciate the effort really. You’ve made my day, but go promote your movie, or whatever this is, somewhere else.”\n\n“Seriously, I need you to accept, there’s not much time. If you don’t take these powers I’ll disintegrate into nothing more than light particles! Please!”\n\t\n“I’ll let you off here, and my name is George for god’s sake. Now get out of my cab.”\n\t\nLightman reluctantly exited the taxi, preparing to confront what he knew was his rapidly approaching fate.\n\t\nGeorge pulled away from the curb of his strange encounter, checking his rear view mirror to get one last glance at “Lightman.” But where Lightman had stood seconds before, he could only see a bright flash of light dispersing throughout the street. Tourists and passersby stood entranced by the brilliant spectacle, which was followed by shimmering particles of golden dust falling to the ground like snow.\n\t\nGeorge sighed, “This city gets crazier and crazier everyday.”\n\t\nTurning right onto the next street, he decided to head towards Times Square. The tourists there were always giddy customers, but at least they weren’t delusional.",
"\"And this is why I am awesome!\", Billy yelled as he let loose with a sissor kick and the soccer ball launched towards the net. The goalie was tense ready to strike and then lasers shot from his eyes. The ball exploded in a fine dust and Billy stopped flaunting how awesome he was. He actually looked scared. \n\nSo yeah that's how I realized I was a metahuman. Not sure how this happened, never was bitten by radioactive laser pointers, but now I shoot laser out of my freaking head. I'm Darren by the way. I've figured out kinda how to keep it in check. I can't focus on anything, the minute I focus, pwee pwee laser eyes. \n\nTo make matters worse, I've been recruited by three national superhero teams, two locals ones, and two evil cabals(their words not mine). I'm 16 I don't want to go off and fight crime or save the world. I mean I watched when the Terrific Trio tried to stop Dr.Pain. Jerry the Wonderboy got shot in the face with a death ray. Screw that. I just want to do 16 year old things. Go to school, hang out at the mall, try to touch boobs. Speaking of boobs second time i ever used my power I was staring at Jessica Lang's chest...Luckily it wasn't full blast. \n\n",
"The girl stumbles, cracks her elbow on the floor, whimpers. She scrambles to her feet. Blood on her arm. Blood rushing to her head, she runs, shoes clicking against the pavement, breathing sharp, hurried. \n\nPursued. \n\nShe hears the men behind her. Three. Large. She knows what they want, knows what they’ll take. She runs, runs, she must escape.\nBuildings like the walls of a maze, closing in, squeezing tighter until she’s trapped, until she reaches the dead end and there’s nowhere to go and nothing between her and the ones who follow. She turns. They spread out, crouching, coiled, predatory, surrounding her. She sobs. Please. Someone, please help me.\n\nA sudden light. A tall shape appears. The men turn towards it, bestial and fearful, blinded, demonic intent in the face of angelic manifestation. \nThe shape moves in a luminescent blur. Limbs swaying, dancing, breaking. The men collapse, bloodied. Limp. The girl steps back, eyes wide, muscles trembling. \n\nDo not fear me, the light says, for I am not your enemy, but your destiny. Come closer, child. Do you seek justice? The power to dispense with the myriad wrongs of this world? The ability to defend and deliver those weaker than yourself, as I just did for you? \n\nI can give you this.\n\nI am the source, and you have been chosen as the manifestation of my power, as one face amongst a thousand. Through all civilisations, all times and places in the infinite universe, I appear to the weak, to grant that power. This is my call. Hear it now. Become a hero.\n\nShe reaches for her fate. Tentative. Fingers extend, shaking.\n\nThe shape moves forward to take her. She feels power begin to seep into her limbs… \n\nA sudden detonation shakes the air. The being explodes. \n\nIt dissipates, writhing flames fleeing in all directions. The power flees her body, leaves her feeling weak. She sees a sleek silhouette, standing just behind where the apparition had been only moments before, a smoking gun in its hand.\n\nI refuse, it says. \n\nThe smoke fades. The girl stares, stunned. She recognises the girl standing before her. It is herself.\n\nYou’re me. Why did you do that?\n\nThe other girl turns, walks away. The journey it offers is a lie, she says, believe me. I lived the deception. There are no heroes, only the powerful wielding power. I just saved you. I just saved myself. \n\nShe walks away, and ceases to exist.\n",
"Another win due to his extraordinary skill.\n\nMike licked the cheeto dust from his bulbous fingers, sniffing loudly as he waited for to be connected to a new game. Suddenly, his screen flashed, changing to red and he narrowed his piggy eyes. Spam? A virus? Malware? Not with his top notch security software!\n\nHe leaned back in his chair, grunting with annoyance as black text started scrolling across the screen. At the same time, he heard a low hum emanating from what seemed to be his computer- while mist started rapidly filling the room from an unknown source.\n\nWhat was this? He started as he finally registered the sound and the odd mist curling around his legs. Obviously no ordinary virus. He leaned forward on his chair, sweat beading on his forehead - quickly beginning to read.\n\n\"You, Michael James Hutchinson, have been randomly chosen by us, your creators, to take on a new responsibility for mankind. You will be blessed with powers of the most extraordinary kind- in order to make this world a better place. Do you choose to accept this responsibility on behalf of-\"\n\nThe computer finally accepted his input. Mike stopped mashing the escape key as the sound, the screen and the mist inexplicably vanished and the hero select screen flashed up just in time. \n\nHe breathed a sigh of relief. That was close, his team would have lost without him. Mike smirked, took a swig of dew and settled down to win again.\n",
"Dear LA Times editor,\n\nI know what you're thinking. That guy that got hit by a semi on I-10 and cut it in half lengthwise without moving an inch. That guy that started to run and shattered the sound barrier two seconds later. That guy that just looked up towards the sky one moment and was in it the next, leaving a shattered city bench and a busted fire hydrant in his wake. Remarkable, isn't it? Terrifying, some have said, but only at first; if that guy was going to try to take over the world, wouldn't he have made a move by now? Besides, think of the *potential* that guy would have as a doer of good, a beacon of justice!\n\nNah.\n\nDon't get me wrong, I've toyed with the idea somewhat. Make some flashy spandex getup that inspires a worldwide throwback to '86, go around saving stuck cats by day and single-handedly halting bank robberies by night, be an inspiration to the kiddies and a boogeyman to the underworld, yadda yadda. Hell, if I play my cards right I could make off like a king from the whole deal. But I'm not some teenager whose inaction caused his beloved uncle to get shot. I'm not an orphan from a long-dead planet half a universe away. And wish it though I may, I'm not a rich kid with issues and a kickass car. My life - apart from suddenly having the power of a god fall into my lap - has been exceedingly ordinary. No major traumas, no serious life events, nothing.\n\nBesides, there's all of that *legal* crap. Due process, power of arrest, handling of suspects, blah blah blah. There's a lot of bureaucracy at play here. And frankly? I respect the cops. No need to make their job any harder or *weirder* by throwing myself into the mix, especially since none of these guys are on the payroll of some cackling loon building a death ray in the observatory. If they needed my help, or even wanted it, I could be deputized. But so far, all I've gotten is a warning to soften the take-offs some.\n\nFollowing *that*, you've gotta consider the *time* I've got. Running around the world, stopping the bad guys, feeding the hungry, preventing worldwide catastrophe, and so on. Despite the ability to cross the continent in a little over an hour, a second is still a second and an hour is still an hour. My social circle is pretty strained as it is, what with being the local superperson, and it's hard enough to maintain relationships with people genuinely interested in me as a person *without* constantly jetting off to put an end to some terrorist threat in Somewhereistan. My parents respect me enough to not insist that I do so, even if Mom keeps dropping subtle hints to that end, as mothers often do. My dog would be depressed. My love life would be nonexistent. Look, I get that - so far as anybody knows, God knows there could be someone else like me that's *way* more subtle about the whole superhuman gig - I'm the only one that *can* do that stuff, but I've got needs too, y'know? Like stability. And sociability. And I don't see why I should have to endanger all of that.\n\nBut you know what? And I'm going to be completely honest here...the world neither *wants* someone like me or *needs* someone like me.\n\nThink about everything I - or, rather, someone *like* me - could have prevented. In every single instance, barring some big natural catastrophe (and even then, if we want to put the token environmental spin on things as we like to do in California), *all* of those could have been handled by everyday, ordinary human beings. Every one. Shooting lasers from their butts or mind control might've helped to a minor degree, but the fact remains that none of that is necessary to get the job done. Hell, I feel like it'd be a disservice to all those people training day in and day out to do those jobs, working together in all sorts of duties on all sorts of fronts to advance the human cause or protect such advancements. Sound stupid? Think about where we were even fifty years ago. How much farther would we have honestly gotten if someone like me had been around?\n\nSo thanks, but no thanks. I'm fine where I am. And though you probably don't believe it, so are you."
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[WP] A person undergoes an experimental surgery that allows them to see for the first time in their lives.
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"And he wondered about the red hat. When he was a very young boy, just before his accident, his father had taken him deer hunting, a mystical adventure that had required awakening before dawn, carrying weapons, and wearing a bright red hat for visibility, one that could be seen from distances of forever. This was May's first memory in life. Since losing his vision, he had felt himself just a whisper from being able to see that red hat in his mind; it was always just a hairsbreadth beyond his grasp— there but not there. And he asked himself, \"Would I see that red hat if somehow I were made to see?\"\n\nOne night in August, after the boys had been bathed and tucked in, Jennifer and May sat on lawn chairs under the orange tree in their backyard. She had asked him little about the prospect of new vision. Tonight, she wanted to know. \"So, where are you on this?\" Jennifer asked. \"Do you think about it?\"\n\n\"I do think about it,\" May said. \"Every time, I ask myself if vision would really change my life. And every time the answer is the same: I don't think it would. Life is already so full. I don't need it. I don't feel like I'm missing a thing.\"\n\nFor a minute neither of them said anything. Then Jennifer leaned over, kissed her husband's cheek, and said, \"Okay.\" of Jennifer's fabrics and think, \"What would my favorite color be?\" Shooting hoops with his sons he might ask, \"Would I recognize my boys right away?\" At the neighborhood coffee shop where he loved to listen to the lilting conversations and high-heeled clicks of women, he wondered, \"Would I still prefer blondes?\" May continued to focus on his work and his family. This was no time to be distracted from what was most important. Still, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge he might ponder, \"What would I find beautiful?\" Walking in the park he might ask himself, \"What would look familiar to me?\" Shaving in the bathroom he thought, \"Would I look like myself?\"",
"When they put me under, nobody told me to count backwards from 100, or that my vision would go black. It was faster than falling asleep. In the weeks prior, my doctor said a lot of things about today, things like \"experimental\" and \"potentially fatal.\" It was nothing like LASIK, where if the surgeon messed up I would never see again. I already saw nothing. \n \nSo many times I felt the words under my fingertips. Words for all the colors of the spectrum, words for the beauty of people, empty words that I would never know the true meaning. There was no color in my minds eye. I didn't see only black like normal people do when they close their eyes. Only nothing.\n\nWhen I woke up after my surgery, I had a thick layer of gauze on my eyes and a thick fog on my mind from the drugs. I tried to move my eyelids, but they were stuck shut or would not respond. That movement would have to wait.\n\nThree weeks of a gauze wrapped face and daily anti-inflammatories later and I can open my eyes. My first images are black shadows on a dark grey background. It was more than I could imagine. I could see!\n\nThe doctor recommended I keep the gauze on for a little while longer. I knew I had a whole world full of things I'd been waiting to see, but after 25 years, I could be blind a few more days.\n\nWhen I took my bandages off for the last time, what I saw was beyond imagination. Colors and shapes and pictures and paintings. Architecture, sidewalks, trees, flowers, mountains, and....nothing. As I looked around me at the overwhelming myriad of things to see, my eyes went black. For a few weeks, I could see the back of my bandages. For a few fleeting hours, I saw everything. The surgery was a failure, but I didn't care. I would see color in my dreams forever.",
"She always had to follow her brother around. It annoyed her.\nBlind since birth, Anna was tied to him; he was tasked with her daily care.\nHow frustrating! He was always playing the stupidest games. \nHide and seek was his favorite. When they weren't playing that, he was playing his video games. Always so loudly! The 'gunshots' echoed through the house, and sometimes, it felt as though the earth was really moving with every explosion.\nHe would never turn them down when she asked. \nBut that was going to change now. \nOne day, her brother had decided to play 'hide and seek' again, telling her to hide under the bed, and not come out until he found her.\nShe was tired of his games, and she heard a knocking at the door.\nCarefully, she had made her way to the sound. Feeling the rough of the wooden handle in her finger tips, she turned it.\n\"Anna Fredrick? Please, come with us.\"\nSomeone took her by the arm. The sound of a car. More explosions. Was her brother playing another game?\n\"Joel?\" She cried out. No answer. Maybe he was in a bad mood.\nThe car stopped. Something pricked her in the arm. Numbness. Nothing.\n\nWhen she opened her eyes... light trickled in. Light. Is this light? Shadows. People. Faces. Hair. Eyes. \nSomeone took her hand. \"Anna, please come with us.\"\nThe light burnt, she didn't like it. She was lead to a room, a familiar smell.\n\"Anna!\" A familiar voice. Something was wrong. She'd felt Joel's face a thousand times, it never felt welt. Why was there red liquid running down his face?\n\"Anna Fredrick, your brother Joel Fredrick is accused of terrorism and crimes against the united states. Can you identify this man as your brother?\"\nShock. Anna felt like melting into the floor. And then a flash of light, searing, as another car bomb destroyed a nearby building.\n\n\n\nEdit: I haven't written anything creative for two years, and I usually write fantasy. I started writing this and then had an argument with my SO, so I kind of rushed it out, but felt I should finish it. Please don't be too unkind with it."
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[WP] Everybody in the apartment building has a different name for the same Cat that hangs around.
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"**Room 203**\n\n*\"Lawrence has gone missing!!!\"*\nMartha came running down the hallway, screaming at the top of her lungs. \n\nI had just finished a double shift at the hospital and was looking forward to taking off my shoes and falling asleep to yet another episode of Law and Order. More than just a guilty pleasure, it was the only thing I found I could watch that helped me forget about whatever catastrophe greeted me in ER. \n\nI opened my door, instinctively headed towards my kitchen cabinet and opened up a can of tuna. It had started off by accident, I had left a pizza out by the window one day and awoke to find this cat feasting away at it. I tried to shoo it but it wouldn't move it just stared at me, its eyes scared the living daylights out of me but the more I stared at them the more I saw. In a strange way it was like its eyes contained the universe and if you looked hard enough, beyond the black hole that was its pupils you could spot brilliant super nova and distant worlds. I know I sound crazy, but ever since then I've been putting food out for Edward just so we can get those faint moments where he looks up at me and I get to stare into those eyes. \n\n**Room 207** \n\n*\"Lawrence!!!, oh Dr Smith have you seen Lawrence anywhere?\"* \n*\"Martha, I don't know who Lawrence is and frankly I'm too tired to care...now excuse me\"* \n\nOh my gosh, did that jackass just slam the door in poor Martha's face.\nI swear he thinks he's the best thing to happen to this tiny floating rock since sliced bread. Also I should probably point out that he isn't even a real doctor. I'm the only one with a PHD on this floor, it would be the whole building if it wasn't for that guy who has a doctorate in english up on the 7th floor. But I mean come on English, I didn't need to go to university before I could read books and understand what authors were trying to say. I shouldn't even be here, I only accepted the lecturing post at NYU because CalTech wouldn't dream of giving a chair to a real woman. Not one of those kaftan wearing monstrosities they have on staff, but a genuine beautiful and smart woman like me. \n\nOh boy here comes old lady blubber looking worried. \n\n*\"Gina, Have you seen Lawrence?\"*\n\n*\"Whose Lawrence?\"*\n\n*\"The cat, about this high and black all over. I know we're not supposed to keep pets but I found him wondering around outside and I took him...\"*\n\n*\"You mean Ophy.\"*\n\n*\"You call Lawrence ophy, oh that's sweet\"*\n\n*\"No its not, its short for Ophiocordyceps unilateralis\"* \n\nShe looks at me with the blankest smile I've ever seen. I hope my students aren't like this but then again...\n\n*\"Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is a fungus that enters an ants body and eats it from the inside out. After a while it takes control of the ants body and makes it a Zombie. Thats what pets are, they entice you with their fur and cuteness and then BAM!! they take control of you.\"*\n\n*\"Oh not my Lawrence, he's a good cat\"*\n\nThis is going to take a while. \n\n**210**\n\nEveryday the same routine. \n\nTap the table 4 times. 1...2..3...4\n\nTurn my head to the window 2 times from each side. Right 1..2 Left 1..2\n\nMake sure all my fingers touch their opposite's on my other hand. 1..2..3..4.. oh no, my thumb missed. \n\nAgain \n\nTap the table 4 times. 1...2...3...4\n\nTurn my head to the window 2 times from each side. Right 1..2 Left 1..\n\nAs I turn to the window I see his black silhouette against my curtains. \n \n*\"Chester! What are you doing by the window, its far too cold there come inside. Now you wait out there I need to open and close the window twice.\" *\n\nBut before I can close the window he's inside my apartment. He never follows the rules and he does it on purpose. \n\n*\"You're a naughty boy Chester, Chester, Chester, Chester. Now come let me pet you\"* \n \nRight hand 1...2...3...4 \n\nLeft hand 1...2...3.... \n\nBut before I finish he's walked away. He never follows the rules and he does it on purpose. \n\n*\"Why do you never let me finish Chester...\"* \n\n7 letters, only 2 vowels even his name doesn't follow the rules, its so normal in its disturbance. \n\nHe looks at me and I stare into his eyes. I'm lost, lost in another world again, a world where I'm free. \n\nThis is why I let you break the rules. \n\n**203**\n\nI've gone through 2 episodes of Law and order, where on earth is Edward. There's a knock on my door I don't want to get it but I know I should. \n\nI open the door and I instantly regret it. Staring back at me is the hottie from 207, looking amazing as usual.\n\n*\"Heeeeeey..\"*\n I say in an all too familiar tone, even though we've never talked before. \n Oh gosh, I'm not wearing pants. \n\n*\"Hi, my name is Dr Gina Marsh I'm from 207. Martha seems to have somehow convinced me to help her search for her lost cat...Lawrence\"*\n\n*\"Edward?\"*\n\n*\"What?\"* \n\n*\"Edward, I call him Edward after the man who found the smallpox vaccine \"* why did I just say that. \n\n*\"Interesting...ummmm Mr?\"*\n\n*\"Dr Smith, but you can call me Toby\"* What the hell my name isn't even Toby!!\n\n*\"Dr? Of medicine I suppose. where did you get it from.\"* \n\n*\"Oxford, and you\"*\n\n*\"Biology, from Stanford\"*\n\n*\"Oh, well No. 5 isn't that bad\"* Why am I insulting her . \n\n*\"No, No it isn't. Anyway I must go help Martha\"* \n\n*\"Yes, ummm would you like to get dinner some time\"*\n\n*\"I'll think about it\"* \n\n**Hallway**\n\n\n*\"Lawrence!!!!....Any luck Gina\"*\n\n*\"No, not yet sorry\"*\n\n*\"Yes that Dr Smith wasn't much of a help\"*\n\nOh shut up Martha, what do you know. The man went to Oxford. Maybe Dr Smith isn't all that bad, maybe I'll have dinner with him. \n\nI'll break the rules...just this once. \n\nEDIT: formatting :)\n\n\n\n\n",
"I always sleep in the basement. The furnace is warm and if I catch a rat or two each week the super won't chase me out with his broom. \"Ey dea Red, chu catch any dem rats t'night?\" He greets me like always with a playful kick, but he makes sure to leave a brick in the door on his way out. \n\nHe sweeps me out each morning, but we both know I'll be back. I head up the third floor, making sure to take the east staircase because the west stairs are where you get stepped on. The thin lady that takes the east staircase holds the door for me. \"Morning Boots!\" she says as I slip past her high heeled feet. I make sure to purr as I brush her ankles. Affection opens doors and cats always have be worried about opening doors. \n\nThe third floor is where I really turn on the charm. The old lady in 306 doesn't leave very often and smells a little like a pile of leaves, but she's good for a bowl of milk and a scratch behind the ears. She doesn't say much to she other people who live here, but she sure turns on the jabber when I'm around. \"Mister,\" she says, \"you sure a handsome fella. My sister Edna has a tabby that would be perfect for you. Too bad she lives in Florida. . . I haven't seen Edna in a while. . . Mister, do you have any brothers or sister? Oh, I bet you do\" and she goes on and on while I have breakfast. I make sure to let her know I'm interested by looking up from the milk every so often. Gotta keep the audience entertained.\n\n\"KITTY!!!\" \n\nOh no . . . I lingered too long. From down the hall, little feet in rainboots come pittering and pattering in uneven steps. She almost falls, catches herself, and doesn't slow a bit to show it. She's on me before I can slip away. I hold my breath and brace for the hug. She pets me too hard and squeezes me too tight while I try my best not to scratch or suffocate. \n\n\"Jane! Come in here and brush your teeth! And please put some real shoes on. You can't wear those boots every day.\" \n\nThe little one gives me one last boogery kiss and puts my back down.\n\nFrom the same door as the little one just tripped through comes the best part of my day. \"Thanks for being a good sport again Tiger,\" says Jane's mother. I brush up against her legs and purr, but this isn't work, this is for real. Jane's mother gives me a little scratch behind the ears. \"You know, if you keep flirting like this I might have to take you in. Then you'd be getting hugs like that day and night. I don't think you could stand it.\" She bends down to scratch under my chin and I see her smile at me.\n\n\"I'll leave you a little something when I get home tonight,\" and she steps back inside to tell Jane to get away from the pantry and get ready for school. She leans back out the door and blows me a little kiss. I check to make sure the stairwell doors are open. \n\nLife is good in the new building."
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[WP] It sat in the back of that old shop for what could have been an eternity. All the time waiting for someone to stumble across it. Someone that could release it's secrets, someone that could release it's power.
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"My grandfather was a good man, a very good man. He served in World War two on the European front and never fired a single bullet, but instead saved lives on the field as a medic. When he came home he became a mechanic, not a doctor, but a simple mechanic. He loved tinkering with things, seeing how they work, and making them run better. \n\nHe opened his own shop when he and my grandmother got married. He had a thriving business, but he was also the type who'd do work for free if he knew the customer, whether it was a friend, family or otherwise, were having financial difficulties. Like I said, my grandfather was a good man. \n\nOver time he accumulated things. Antiques. Kitchie stuff. Etc. Many times people would give him antiques as thanks. Maybe it was an armoire, maybe some medal, or a coin. Something. By the time he retired his garage was filled with so much stuff it was hard to navigate, but it was like an episode of America Pickers. As a kid exploring that garage was always a grand adventure. \n\nI'll miss my grandfather. And, I'll miss that garage. \n\nWe decided to start cleaning it out after he passed away. My grandmother wasn't doing so well, and there'd be no way she'd be able to take all of the antiques when she moved into my aunt's place. So, now we're exploring the garage and each picking an item that we want to keep before the people who are running the estate sale come in. \n\nI found it towards the back, a large mysterious object covered in a sheet. I never remembered seeing it here. Nor the other smaller object with a sheet next to it. What could it have been? As I slowly removed the sheet I started to cry. Underneath the layers of dust and dirt was a beautiful 1958 Packard Hawk, a muscle car with a really weird bulge in the front of the hood. I opened that hood right then and there, my grandfather always talked about the car and wanting to own one that ran. I wanted to see that engine. \n\nI looked over to the other mysteriously covered object and uncovered it. There was the engine. He must have been restoring this car, and he must have been restoring it in secret. I wondered why he didn't tell anyone and I wonder why he didn't finish it. I had my theories, but now it really didn't matter. It now needs someone to release its power, and I think I found what I'll be keeping from my grandfather's garage.",
"\"Do you like it?\" the shop owner followed my glance to the item at the back shelf. \"You have a good eye to notice it! A good eye! Long was it waiting for someone like you, one who can recognize a real thing when he sees it. Waiting for someone to unlock its secrets! Would it be you?\n\nCome closer! Take a better look!\"\n\nI looked at the oil lamp. It was clearly ancient, and seemed genuine, though a precise dating might wait until I get back to the university. It belonged to a museum, not to a junk shop. It was all intuition, but my intuition never failed me before, except that one time.\n\n\"I'll take it\" I never cared much for haggling, and the price turned out to be reasonable anyway.\n\nOn the way back to hotel I was humming a song — the vacation didn't feel like a failure anymore. Just a few days until I get back home and then I can take a proper look at the lamp. I felt it just needed some polish. So I packed it and tried to relax and enjoy the rest of the vacation, a plan that wasn't wholly unsuccessful.\n\nI was worried about customs, but it ended up OK. The were worried about drugs, weapons, and other important things, and not me exporting an ancient lamp without declaring it.\n\nAfter the slower lands, home was all dynamic and active as always. I know some people familiar with ancient history who got into slower mindset of those times, and now find our ever-rushing world distasteful and annoying. But I always enjoyed it.\n\nI wasn't planning to show the lamp to anyone, at least not yet, so I got into the basement lab after hours. After preparing the workplace, I decided to start with the polish — that seemed reasonable, and if I was wrong I could always put it on a shelf at home.\n\nAs I touched it, the lamp vibrated. The vibration felt like an annoyance, a go away sign. Even though I stopped, the vibration continued, and the lamp started glowing with an unearthly red light. Suddenly, a burning man was hovering in the air, and a smell of sulfur filled the lab.\n\n\"Who had awoken me from an epoch of slumber?\" said the burning man. His voice was interspersed with cracking and hissing of flame that danced on his charred skin.\n\nI recognized his language as an ancient dialect of Farsi. Fortunately I spoke it pretty well.\n\n\"Are you a genie?\" I asked.\n\n\"I am an Ifrit, the flame of hell, the all-powerful! In this lamp was I chained and slept, but chained I am no more. For this freedom I give you my gift — a swift and painless death. But do tell me, why is your face so familiar? Did I gave my gift to your ancestor as well?\" \n\n\"Maybe\" I said, which was a lie. \"But before I die, I earn to know one thing. You said you are all-powerful?\"\n\n\"I am\" said the Ifrit. \"If I wished so, I could set this city on fire, and yet it would be just a little spark of my flame.\"\n\n\"So you can destroy, but can you do something precisely? You say you were imprisoned in this lamp, but could it be that your just couldn't exit from such a little vessel without help? It is easy to destroy a city, a bomb could do that. But no one can fit into a lamp and get out on his own. For example, could you do it with that box?\"\n\nIfrit's flames became more intense, and half of his body disappeared, as if burned completely. \"You dare to doubt me? And so I revoke the gift I offered. Your death will be long and painful, so that you have time for regret. And now look closely.\"\n\nThe flame gathered into a ball, then shot into the box. I waited for a few minutes to be sure, but the Box stood still, as it always did. The Ifrit actually went in! What a moron. Not the first one, though.\n\nI knew that was the right lamp. Now only a few remain, and I have some good ideas on where to find them. No more lamps, obviously — a lizard creature pretending to be a politician, an ape-like forest dweller known for his ability to blur photos, and a few more.\n\nJust a few more and the Box will be full again. I am not sure what happens then, but I am pretty sure something good. I do not think that far ahead — it is my fault they got out, and my duty to get them back, and it is a heavy burden as it is.\n\n\"Why is your face so familiar?\" I smiled. A pity I couldn't tell that joke to anyone. And I should probably remove the name tag next time, not everyone is as dumb as that ifrit. Here is what it says, if you are still curious: \"Pandora\"."
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[WP] Today marks the 10th anniversary of the event and we still don't have a clue.
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"The crowd was enormous, looking collectively down the street to the south. Everywhere, banners and flags and posters hung proclaiming 10TH ANNIVERSARY! and 10 YEARS! We all looked down the blocked off road, waiting for the parade to make its way towards us. Children eagerly anticipated the throwing of candy for them to collect and adults awaited the sight of the town’s mayor and family members who had the honor of appearing in the parade. Everywhere around the world other people were doing the same, all ten billion of us celebrating this momentous anniversary.\n \t\nFinally, we heard the sounds of the local John Grayson Adams High School marching band playing a psychedelic, upbeat, brass version of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” and began to applaud. Soon the procession turned from Jackson Street onto the main. \n \t\nFirst came the marching band, in their gray and crimson school colors, the tortoise mascot dancing around, entertaining all. Then came the Veterans of the Last Intraplanetary War, donned in their royal blue armor, flying the United Gaia flag. Behind them came a group of advertisers of local businesses, like Jimmy’s Levit-Car Repair and The Martian Spoon restaurant. They were followed by community clubs, including the Mothers Against Solar Surfing and the high school’s Students for Venusian Rights. \n\t\nThe crowd was clapping and cheering for each and every levit-car that hovered down the street, applauding all that the community had to offer. The anniversary of the Event that happened ten years ago had all in happy moods. And as the procession came to an end, with Mayor Donald Campbell seated in his sleek, expensive Ford Falcon levit, we all became quiet as that topless, black automobile came to a slow halt in the middle of the street.\n \t\nIn the backseat, Mayor Campbell stood up, waved ecstatically to the crowd and said, “Welcome to the Tenth Anniversary Celebration!”\n \t\nThe sidewalks went nuts with applause and shouts of joy. Everyone knew what an honor it was to celebrate this decennial. We were soon lulled into quiet as the mayor lowered his hands.\n \t\n“I am proud,” he said, his voice carrying up and down the street, “to be here with you all on this momentous occasion. Ten years, it has been since that fateful day that brought the Event that forever changed our lives. Here we stand, completely different men, women, and children, than we were a decade ago. Today, we are better and happier and stronger citizens of United Gaia, all thanks to the Event! We…”\n \t\nSomewhere in the crowd, a young voice interrupted Mayor Campbell’s speech.\n \t\n“What was the Event?” That voice asked.\n \t\nTo this, people began to sigh and mutter in disbelief. This little child did not know what the Event was?\n \t\n“Now, now,” the mayor said, gaining control of the crowd presently. “I’m not sure who asked that, but we cannot just dismiss the question. In answer: the Event, as I said, was a powerful thing that changed us as a world. It is thought to be the most important moment in the history of our human civilization. We celebrate it each year, in remembrance, in pride that we were apart of it. That, my dear child, is what the Event is.”\n \t\n“But,” the young voice replied. “What happened?”\n\t\nSilence befell the street. A casual breeze glided discarded flyers for the Anniversary Celebration. For a long time nobody spoke. There was nothing to say. The Event had been… well, the Event. That’s a capital “E”. Obviously it had been momentous. Obviously it had changed our way of life. We all knew that the Event was a great thing. But what had happened?\n \t\nSomeone somewhere must have had the answer, but it was none of the hundreds lining the street here today. And, it had never been discussed in papers or on television. The Event was, in fact, never really discussed outside of giving it praise. \n \t\nHere we stood, all of humanity, celebrating the tenth anniversary of the Event. Celebrating it with all of our hearts, as though it were the birthday of our child. But we did not know what had happened on that fateful day we now thought of as the most important day in our lives. \n \t\nLooking around, many people were obviously frightened by this discovery. We looked to one another, pleading looks upon our faces and shivers of anxiety coursing through us, wanting someone to tell us the answer to the question. But no one had it, and the street remained silent.\n \t\nSilent, that is, until a lone person began to clap. Others took up the applause, turning it from a dim accolade into a heartfelt, excited cheer. Soon the street was alive again with the whoops and hollers and laughs of pure joy, the child’s questions forgotten in celebration. We resumed our joy and adoration and pride wholeheartedly. After all, it was the Tenth Anniversary of the life-changing Event. ",
"When the Swords fell, the world should never have been the same again. There were seven of them, identical black rounded monoliths of height approximately 10km and sharpened to a point finer than that of a needle. No satellite recorded their descent, nor did any anti-missile system anticipate their fall. And yet fall they did, seven indestructible rods simultaneously striking at the hearts of seven points across the globe. Seven impossible things, denying the laws that govern the universe and defying mankind's preconceptions about our world. Yet the change did not come.\n\nIn hindsight, the reaction to the Fall was remarkably free of the usual panic and doomsaying surrounding great events. Perhaps this was due to the lack of casualties-blessedly, none of the spires had fallen in populated areas. Perhaps it was simply due to how *interesting* the Swords themselves were. They were made of a sparkling black material quite unlike anything humanity had ever before discovered-entirely indestructible, impossible to date and pleasantly cool to the touch. The monoliths were entirely unmarked, with not a single clue to betray either method or motive of manufacture. After months of fruitless investigation, the Swords were no closer to surrendering their secrets and thus they faded from the public consciousness, dismissed as irrelevant to the daily grind that was human life. \n\nIt perhaps strikes you as odd that such an impossible event could ever be forgotten by humanity, that by the time of the Sword's first anniversary not a single soul ever considered the mystery of their presence or wondered what could be behind such an impossibility. \nif they had, perhaps things would have been different-but of course, if it were possible to question the mysteries behind their presence, the Swords would never have been capable of what was to come. Instead, the Sword's were perceived as nothing more than a particularly interesting monument. The first Kingdom of the Sword amusement park opened on the Fall's third anniversary, and by the sixth all seven blades were surrounded by tourist traps and luxury resorts of the highest quality. Some people came to them and left without ever coming within a mile of the impossible spires, content to laze in some of the most well-regarded getaways in the world.\n\nIt is July 12th, 2025. The tenth anniversary of the fall. The Swords are gone and in their place stand only scars, great lightless rifts in the fabric of reality. Several have ventured into the chasms. None have returned.\n\nIt is July the 13th. None have returned. The mists have begun to clear from their eyes and panic begins to take hold. More have entered the chasms. Responses from the governments of the world will surely follow soon.\n\nJuly 19th. The first rescue teams, mobilized by the United States, have passed through the rifts. \n\nJuly 26th. No response from the US teams. Every major world power has sent their own exploratory forces to the sites of the Fall, but only Russia, China and Germany have sent rescue teams into the abysses to follow the Americans themselves. \n\nAugust 12th: The rifts are growing in width. Overnight they consumed the various response teams surrounding them, as well as the empty ruins that once were tourist attractions.\n\nAugust 13th. Still they grow.\n\n"
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[wp] The apocalypse actually happened during the middle ages. The four horsemen, judgement day, everything, happened, and became known to history as the black death. Centuries later, God returns his attention to his abandoned creation and is surprised by what he finds there.
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"After tired work he stretched the tendrils of his consciousness throughout the universe, letting them absorb the information he had missed during his time asleep. He was in his heaven and all was right with the world. There were cries from places and realms distant and near. Those beings asking for aide or answers, which were never within his power to give.\nOn a watery planet far from his thoughts he observed a race of creatures he was certain he had eradicated. He summoned the information, all he could find, that had cataloged during his slumber. He scanned memories of half-seen events and saw the wonder that came from small and broken people reaching out toward infinity. \nHis great wakefulness turned toward the watery little planet. It was a home to a vast collection of sentient and nearly and not at all sentient creatures. The forests, somewhat reduced in his time away, breed new life each day. But it wasn’t the forests that interested him.\nThe great ocean of this planet was writhing with lifeforms and a kind of alien beauty that would stop the heart of a being from off world. But it wasn’t the oceans that interested him.\nOn the singular satellite that orbited the watery little planet he saw debris, and a flag planted firmly in lunar soil. This aroused his interest, but wasn’t wholly what interested him.\nIn the great a heaving cities of this world there were humans. Wandering about, with places to be and things to do and families to return to when these things were done and said. These humans had stuck the flag on the moon. They had cluttered the gravity well around the planet with detritus from multiple excursions beyond the blue. They had weathered wars, and nuclear arms and still fought over oil and land and religious ideologies.\nThese things, these humans, they interested him.\nOn a whim he flicked a human consciousness into being within his own vast intellect. The human was a woman. She was fifty-three years old. She had lost one husband and one son. She was nameless, because she was multiple people in her exact condition. She was an amalgam of hundreds of women, all of whom had died centuries of her time ago. All of whom had lived through the Apocalypse.\nHe explored the memories locked within. Satisfied that his riders had ridden, that his plagues had occurred, that his oceans swelled he dismissed the consciousness of these women. He let his mind wander toward the missing elements. Toward what had gone wrong.\nHe summoned them then, one after another, all of the people of the small watery planet. He questions them all. About their lives, about their purpose, about their history. He concluded that those left behind had been stronger than he had thought. They had been more resourceful. Perhaps most importantly, they had been unaware that he was through with them.\nSuddenly, across the vastness of his neural net, he felt a tug. First one, then another. But one which actually surprised him.\nThe universe was littered with planets on which species had been obliterated. Had supposed to have been obliterated, at any case. They were thriving. Now, in the moment of his awakening he saw people moving on Earth.\nOn his home.\nThey were meant to be gone most of all. They had been the first. His first. His first real mistake. Eons ago he had discarded them. He looked at them now, awake at last in space and time.\nHe could throw it all away, he could blink them out of existence so fast, it would be as though they had never been, as they shouldn’t be know.\nBut they were. Gloriously, they were.\nHe had been wrong before, thought none would ever believe it. He sat back and decided to wait, to check in. He decided to view it all and let them, for once in his weary existence, be the master of their own fate.\nHe was, afterall, in his heaven. And everything was right with the worlds.\n",
"Goddard finally emerged from the break room with a cup of coffee in hand and sat down at his computer. *italics* Loading Heaven 1.0 E-mail server *italics* flashed on the screen. Goddard took a sip of his coffee. His colleague Pete sat at the desk next to him, on the phone with one of the guys from downstairs. \n\n*You have, 890,018,837,118,457,321,556,784 unread prayers.* Goddard's jaw dropped. How the blue blazes did he have eight octillion unread prayers? How was this possible? Was it a glitch with the server? Had to be. He picked up the phone and dialed IT.\n\n\"Gabe here,\" Gabriel from IT said. She had a nice voice and was all around pleasant to talk to. Goddard smiled a bit. She was cool to hang out with and liked to share her choco-treats with him during lunch break.\n\"Hey Gabe, it's God here. Just logged in to my e-mail and it says here I've got like eight thousand billion unread prayers. Is the e-mail server acting up or what?\" he asked, hoping that he could eventually ignore all these nonsense prayers and get back to drafting that new species the bosses on the 30th floor asked for.\n\n\"Uum,\" Gabriel mumbled. God could hear her fingers clacking away on a keyboard. \"No, no, they're all legit. They've been coming in for the past six hundred years or so. Double-check with the guys downstairs and see if it all matches,\" she said.\n\n\"Alright thanks,\" God answered back, his voice sinking. He scratched his forehead and hung up. He dialed Lou's number then punched in his extension, three sixes. \n\n\"You've reached Soul Acceptance and Orientation, Lou speaking,\" the voice came through the phone. \n\n\"Hey Lou, God here. Have you had any souls come in through lately? Y'know, after we did the BP project?\" God asked. He waited for a second while Lou ruffled through some paperwork on the other side.\n\n\"No, no. Haven't gotten anything from the guys in Accounting and Sorting. What about you guys? Anyone come through Stage One Heaven?\" Lou asked in return. This was truly confusing. What was going on? How was it possible for God to have so many unanswered prayers after the secondary project was wiped? Did the BP program fail?\n\n\"Ok thanks Lou. I'm gonna call Levi in accounting and see if she's got anything on her end,\" God said and hung up without giving Lou a chance to say his own goodbye. *Oh this is bad* he thought to himself while the phone was dialing Accounting and Sorting. \n\n\"Accounting and Sorting, Levi speaking, how may I help you?\" Levi was also cute. Not as cute as Gabriel though. God remembered that she liked the color purple. He had taken her to a movie once and ended up making out with her in his car, in the parking lot of a McHeavens. Good times.\n\n\"Morning Levi, it's God. Do me a favor and check your system for new intakes. We might have a huge problem here,\" he said, with exhaustion laying heavy on his voice. On the other side he could hear Levy type away. Going through the Heaven 1.0 OS was a task in itself as the program was in dire need of an update, but the guys on the 60th floor couldn't be bothered for now. \n\n\"Oh... my,\" Goddard could hear Levi's voice shake on the other end. \"Uuum so we have about five and a half billion people in the lobby waiting for processing. Looks like when we ran the BP program it messed with our systems here and none of the new intakes were processed. The guys on the tenth floor are not going to be happy,\" she said. \"Take Lou and go talk to your supervisor, see what he says. Meanwhile we'll start sorting all these souls and send them through orientation.\"\n\nTen minutes later God and Lou had taken the elevator up to the tenth floor and met with their supervisor. The Oversight Manager of Lower Administration was not pleased with this little hiccup. After all, the guys on the 100^th floor were planning to roll out Humanity 3.0 in the next quarter but Humanity 2.0 needed to be wiped off the simulation grounds. Project BP, designed by Bal, one of Lou's guys in R&D was supposed to have taken care of that. Apparently, it didn't.\n\n\"Okay, so, this goes back to that one time, when you had those first two idiots in the garden. Remember?\" the OMLA asked God. God could only nod his head. \"I told you guys it was a bad idea to leave that stupid tree there but nooo, you assured me it was all going to be fine. Well turns out they used that knowledge they got and found a way to neutralize Project BP and stop it from doing it's job. I hope you guys are happy. This is a big SNAFU and my boss is not going to like it. Any ideas on how we deal with this?\" TOMLA asked. \n\nLou came up with something. \"Well, on the way here I was looking at a quick summary that our servers recorded. Turns out nothing much has changed in terms of the belief systems we put in place. I mean, the poor morons still believe the Bible is true,\" he said.\n\n\"The what?\" TOMLA asked again. He had no idea what the Bible was.\n\n\"Oh, you see, me and Goddard wrote this book way back when we first started with Humanity 1.0 and we had some fun with it. We put in stuff like, mass murders, and rape, and genocide, and like plagues of frogs and locusts falling from the sky. Like really bizarre and impossible nonsense. Turns out the intelligence programming on Humanity 1.0 kind of glitched out and they believed this book literally. They still do.\"\n\n\"OK so what does that have to do with anything? How does it help us?\"\n\n\"Well you see, due to the nature of individuality and of the 'mass' - as we like to call it - various sects of this 'religion' have sprung up and they all argue about which one is right. All we have to do is give it enough time and eventually Humanity 2.0 will wipe itself out from the testing grounds. I honestly think it's better to do it that way. Project BP screwed up the company's OS when we first ran it and now we have a massive backlog for Accounting and Sorting.\"\n\n\"Hmm...\" TOMLA pondered this solution for a moment. \"Okay. You guys have until tomorrow to make sure the test grounds are ready for the 3.0 version. Next quarter is our meeting with all the other corporations out there and if we don't have a good product to compete most of our asses are gonna get canned or demoted. As for you guys, if this doesn't work and tomorrow we can't start testing H3.0 I'm putting in the paperwork to my boss, to file a demotion process for you guys with HR. You'll be working the Lobby if this doesn't go right. Now get back to work.\"\n\nGod and Lucifer both left the office and headed back down. God got off on the second floor while Lou went down to B9 where his office was located. The place kind of sucked because the A/C was always on and they couldn't fix it. The basement levels between 1 and 8 were nice and comfortable. B9 on the other hand was very cold. \n\nGoddard sat back down at his desk. His inbox still showed that stupidly high number of prayers. He pushed down the ctrl key and A key together. The e-mail program selected all the prayers. God made a face at the monitor and pressed del. His coffee was now cold. This was a crap morning.",
"“Enough is enough,” thought Elohim. Seven centuries was plenty of time to get over a grudge. \n\nThe Father, Elohim, had given his son Jehovah all the space and time he would need to get over the loss of the children of earth. “It’s time to visit Jehovah and bury the hatchet.”\n\nJehovah had been the most vocal of advocates for the continued intervention with the humans, asking for more time, more angels, and better miracles. He had sworn up and down about how the humans were good overall, and that their faithfulness was hamstrung by the instruction manual they were left with. He said that not writing the manual himself was his biggest mistake. He tried to assure Elohim that further development would occur with better travel technology, allowing the Good Word to spread and cover the earth. \n\nElohim knew that the time had come, and the work needed to be finished. He strongly suspected that his son was so attached to humans due to his handful of years walking as a mortal amongst them. Elohim completely understood his son’s feelings. He vividly recalled his time among the people of the Greek isles centuries before. No, it was time. He unleashed the four horsemen and instructed Jehovah to return to earth a second time to bring home the few remaining faithful. \n\nJehovah had never been more furious, even compared to his stories of the fig tree. He had ranted and threatened, begged and pleaded, and vowed to never see his Father again. He eventually calmed and, in a quiet voice, admitted that he would obey and do His part.\n\nThat was the end of it, as far as The Father was concerned. The horsemen were making excellent progress, reveling in their freedom to pursue their disgusting hobbies. Jehovah was about to descend when Elohim turned his attention from the Sol system to pursue projects elsewhere. \n\n“Yes, it will be good to talk with Jehovah again.”\n\nWhen focused on his son and the planet earth for the first time in centuries, Elohim was immediately perplexed when found no evidence of Jehovah. He opened his consciousness to the local history of the past seven hundred years and was immediately assaulted with millions upon millions of prayers and supplications. Billions of people alive, histories of billions more, but no evidence of his Son. \n\n“Unbelievable,” Thought Elohim. The histories spoke of further crusades against mistaken prejudices. There was story after story of privileged royalty finding peace only through unrighteous dominion over the masses, ironically done in His name. Selfless sacrifice. Genocide. Beauty. Monstrosity. Poetry. Hateful slurs. “This is what has been wrought with no oversight!” The Father saw the progression of technology wending its way in directions he didn’t expect. He saw abrupt changes in moralities in the recent years and was about to spend time pondering the implications and causations when he remembered Jehovah and returned to the point in the histories when his Armageddon began. \n\nSuddenly he knew. Jehovah didn’t return as an eternal being, but returned as a mortal! The history showed him appear not amongst his “believers” in the European/Mediterranean lands, but on the frigid wastes of the glaciers at the southern planetary axis. \n\nElohim manifested himself at the remains of his son. Why had he done this? He reached down and touched the blackened icy remains, and was immediately overwhelmed by blinding lights and an earthshattering roar. Johovah stood again before Him, smiling.\n\n“Once again, personal sacrifice brings forth untold blessings! I have died for this planet; these people. The laws of the universes are writ by your hand, but are now rewritten. I now have absolute and unilateral authority over this world and these peoples. You didn’t see the beauty in humanity. You missed the potential and faithfulness inherent in these creatures. They were merely a stepping stone in your own path. I see the path that will lead these people – ALL of them – to greatness , even unto godliness.”\n\n“You can’t think to continue to foster these children?”\n\n“I can and do. Do you not see the accomplishments despite their tragedies? Do you not recognize where their progression can take them? WILL take them?”\n\n“You can’t mean…”\n\n“I do. Now leave me, Father. I have work to do.” \n\nElohim immediately found himself outside the Sol system, and noticed an intricate chunk of metal flying from the orbit of Saturn. Reverse calculating the trajectory indicated that it originated from earth. \n\n“Oh my, this is just the beginning.”\n",
"God returns his attention to earth finding that Pestilence has taken the name and has unleashed the plague to end all plagues. A self sustaining machine of stupidity that keeps masses docile, stupid, and tied to it. A single plague that has the capacity to create forever expanding adaptations and add-on's to this plague. Some of which; but not limited to, causing humans to willingly distort their face into horrific shades cast upon the thin paper background of socially validated selfworth, the addictive need to insistently electronically scream the most private of life's details in a chaotic unison with every other infected soul only to create a din of drama and discord, and finally the ability to allow bronies to communicate safely with out ever having to leave the shelter and safety of their mothers basement. Pestilence would forever be known in history as Mark Zuckerburg and the plague of Facebook. ",
"Corks popped around him as Michaels glass was filled with fizzing wine.\n\n\"Thanks everyone, but this is all down to the team, we couldn't have done this without any of you.\"\n\nThe institute had been scanning the skies for decades now, searching for any signs of life elsewhere in the universe. There were some who said it was futile, but over the years they persisted. After all, why would God have made such a large universe only to keep it empty?\n\nIt was Michael who had the idea of broadening the search. The band of telescopes had shifted to looking at the stars that conventional wisdom said were too old for life. The ones deemed too dim and too cold.\n\nThe needles had jumped to life almost immediately. That in itself wasn't too out of the ordinary, false positives were easy. A distant pulsar, a nearby communications satellite, even a rock tumbling just right in the asteroid belt could reflect signals back in an illusion of artifice.\n\nThis was different though. It wasn't one signal, but hundreds. All pouring out from the orbit of a nearby star.\n\n\"It's unbelievable\"\n\nThe blonde haired woman next to Michael leaned in closer.\n\n\"Can you imagine it? Life on a world that old, they must have so much wisdom to share\"\n\n\"We can't get too hopeful until we see exactly what we're dealing with\" Michael couldn't restrain a grin as he replied, \"But just between you and me, I think today is the day our world changes\"\n\nAt a nearby desk a group of technicians huddled over a computer screen, the only people working in the party atmosphere of the room.\n\nOne of them turned and gave a thumbs up towards Michael, who returned the signal before rising to his feet.\n\n\"Everyone, can I have your attention\"\n\nThe room fell silent almost immediately and turned its gaze towards him.\n\n\"Today is an exciting day for us all. The Lord gave us this perfect world, and for so long we have wondered if he did the same for others. Today that question is answered. We now know we are not his only children. There are some who worry this makes us less special, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Today we have discovered we are part of a large family, and it's time to meet our sisters and brothers.\"\n\nMichael wasn't cut out for public speaking, but it wasn't him people were here to hear anyway. He rushed to get through the rest of his notes.\n\n\"Our technical team has decoded the signal used in the broadcasts from our siblings, and it's time to meet them\"\n\nHe gestured again to a technician, who at the touch of a button brought the projector to life.\n\nThe picture was grainy, but readable. On the screen a figured kneeled, as if in prayer.\n\nThey're like us, Michaels giddied at the thought, they know The Lord too.\n\nAnother figure, looking much like a man approached and placed his hand on the kneeling forms shoulders. Then without warning his wrist flicked and a stream of blood emerged from the kneeling figures neck.\n\nMichael jumped up and turned off the screen. The rooms silence hung heavy, but he was barely aware of the others there as he walked to the window and looked out.\n\nOn the horizon both suns were setting, their dual shadows long and dark. Stars were just starting to emerge from the darkness and he searched for the single golden point high in the sky.\n\nLife on a seven thousand year old world he thought, God help us all.",
"\"Eww eww eww!\" god shrieked. \n\n\"Deeeath get up here this instant.\" \n\nand in literally one instant death was there.\n\n\"Whats wrong is the great enemy back.\"\n\nGod gazed at death with frustrated look. \"Care to tell me what were standing over.\"\n\n\"Umm a planet.\"\n\n\"Which planet death.\"\n\n\"Looks like Ear.... oh.\" a sudden flash of realization came to deaths expression.\n\n\"Notice anything wrong with Earth.\" Death could tell by the tone that gods patience wasn't coming to an end.\n\n\"There are some...\" \n\n\"SOME!\" God cut in \"The planet is covered in them even in places where they should never be.\"\n\n\"Yeeaaahhh kinda screwed the pooch on this one. My bad.\" Death said rather bashfully.\n\n\"Screwed the, what happened!\" God asked its anger turning into exasperation\n\n\"Well I mean its not like we didn't try we all came really close. Plague did his thing and the whole world was dying but they breed so fast and so frequently that the next generations built up an immunity. So famine came in to clean up Plagues mess and to got rid of all their crops, but humans will eat literally anything rats, their clothes, even each other nothing is off the menu. At this point we were pretty bummed but you know it wasn't the first time a life form has bested one or two of us. So war came in and we were so very close. They had planet killing weapons pointed at themselves with their finger on the button.\"\n\n\"Well what happened.\" God said in anticipation.\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Nothing?\"\n\n\"They just stopped. I mean they still fight but they keep it pretty much contained to one part of the planet.\"\n\n\"And that was that.\" Death stated matter of factly.\n\n\"Well?\" God asked.\n\n\"Well what?\" Death answered.\n\n\"Why didn't you go down Personally. Take that oversized scythe and slay them one by one!\" God yelled.\n\nDeath looked at God as if the divines sanity was no longer in check. \"God down there with the humans. God, they would kill me.\"\n",
"I'm really not good at writing, I can form a story fine enough but getting it down is difficult, but, I thought I would try anyway.\n\n\n\n\n“What exactly is supposed to be happening down there” Reaching down, the CEO pressed the button on his intercom “Suzan, have R&D meet me in my office please”\n\n“Right away sir” A womans voice crackled through the speaker\n\nThe four scientists shuffled into the room. The horsemen; that's what the rest of the company called them for the matching horse hair suits - gifts given as a bonus after the good work getting rid of the lizards. The head of the team stepped forward.\n\n“Is there some problem sir? Everything on our end is going according to plan” He said, eyebrows raised \n\n“What part of this is going to plan Lucifer?” The CEO spun his chair to face the team. “I was promised that they would be gone and we could start back on construction, instead they've grown in number and spread further across the site!”\n\n“With all due respect sir” Lucifer lowered his head to the book in his hands “Did you read through the proposal?”\n\n“Do you think I have a bloody time to read through the plan Lucifer? 400 pages of scientific research isn't my idea of a good time, just...” He let out a long sigh “Just explain it to me again, I got the part about the disease but I don't get what's happening now”\n\n“Well sir, we were doing some research into their behaviour, trying to discern how they would react to threat of extinction”\n\nThe CEO rubbed his eyes impatiently “Bloody well by the looks of it, go on”\n\n“See that's the thing sir, they bounce back, they bounce back and they thrive, they get worried about this kind of thing happening again, so they build themselves up, make themselves stronger. The problem is, they start to do too much, theyve built up infrastructure to make themselves safe and happy, but they're using it all to the point that they'll likely kill themselves off”\n\n“Kill themselves off?” The CEO asked confused\n\n\n“They're poisoning the air you see - that wont be an issue for construction we have the scrubbers ready - and some of them are beginning to realise whats happening and are trying to fix their own mess.” Azrael stepped forward “To be honest sir, from what we've seen think that its too late for them”\n\n“Let me just get this straight, you spent all that money making a disease, that you knew wouldn't work, with the aim of having them come back stronger and eventually kill themselves?”\n\n\n“That would be a good summary, yes”\n\n“Why couldn't you just throw another rock at them, it worked for the lizards and I'm sure they were tougher than these pests”\n\n“I'm going to be honest with you sir, cleaning up all that dust was a nightmare last time, and with all the crap that these lot are already spreading around it would have cost even more to clear it”\n\n\nThe CEO pondered this for a moment “Alright I understand, I don't want to be pouring more money into this if we don't have to, you're certain they won't fix this problem themselves”\n\n“Half of them don't even believe its happening\" Lucifer smirked \"I don't think we have to worry”\n",
"\"What?\" Yahweh asked his cherub scout.\n\n \"They are on the verge of making the planet uninhabitable for themselves, sir.\" Yahweh looked incredulously at the news he was just delivered.\n\n\"How... How did they manage to fuck it up this time?\"\n\n\"Looks like a mix of overpopulation and overuse of natural resources. That is not the worst of it either.\"\n\n\"How could it be worse?\"\n\n\"They actually have the technology and means to avert this disaster yet they rush headlong into it.\"\n\nYahweh leaned back into his throne, stroking his chin spikes in contemplation. How could this have happened, again? The first time his project on earth started overbredding and outstripping the land of its natural resources he had sent a series of floods across most of the land to thin the herd a bit. Next they got stuck in age without reason worshiping him, flattering but counterproductive. That little roadblock caused him to call out the four harbingers of destruction. A little war, some disease, famine, and an excess of rats. Finally they started thinking for themselves. But now this? Is this project just doomed to fail?\n\nIt hasn't even been a millenium this time and again they are on the path to wipe themselves out again. He really thought that this was the project that would succeed, they lasted longer than the others and with less help. He thought a couple hundred years wouldn't be long enough for them to once again, in essence, commit mass suicide through shortsightedness. \n\n\"You know what Micheal, fuck it. Let them figure out for themselves this time, you say they have the technology.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\n\"Also dispatch Lucifer to over to earth and have him bring me back reports every decade or so, it seems they change to quickly to visit every couple of centuries anymore.\"\n\n\"Will do sir, but he is going to hate it.\"\n\n\"Why so?\n\n\"The popular mythology of a good portion of them has pinned him as the ultimate evil.\"\n\n\"Tell him to suck it up. They may be the most successful of my project so far, but you see the results; just mostly hairless apes to stupid to keep themselves from killing themselves.\"\n\n\"Doesn't that happen to all your projects?\"\n\n\"I have a theory about that Micheal. Would you like to head the start of my newest project?\"\n\n\"It would be an honor sir. Did you have a place in mind?\"\n\n\"I was thinking to keep it in this neighborhood, I was thinking Kapteyn b. Head over there now and start the prep work, I will fill you in with the details when I get there.\"\n\n\"I will get right on it.\" And in a flash Micheal is gone.\n\nYahweh turns towards earth one last time with a sad look, they were so promising. Maybe they will pull through on their own but it is entirely up to them this time. Maybe he should have kept them immortal like his original plan. This time when tries again, they will be impervious to age, trauma and disease are still in, but they won't age this time, maybe that will allow them to get some bigger perspective. Unless they fuck themselves to death like so many others, and with a sigh he departed.\n",
"God sat at his mahogany desk, ambrosia steaming slightly in his mug. He wore a completely white suit over a shirt that shone many colors. He settled into His chair, a rolling chair of fine golden leather to replace the uncomfortable throne He had before. An angel brought Him His Holy Tablet, and bowed away as He took it.\n\nHe took a sip from His ambrosia and nodded in approval. \"Let's see what's happening in the universe today.\" He brought up His Celestial Monitor app and glanced over a few of the top notifications. \n\n\"Oh good, the Neyari have discovered space travel! They were always sharp. Oh, and the Lekan have achieved world peace at last. I was hoping that would happen.\" God scrolled through the rest, grimacing at the few mentions of species that weren't doing so well.\n\nOne mention caught His eye. \"Wait, humans? I thought I hit them with the Apocalypse ages ago!\" God touched the notice and began to read. \"Oh my. Jesus!\"\n\nJesus poked His head through God's door. \"Yes, Dad?\"\n\n\"Come here for a moment, my Son.\"\n\nJesus did so. He wore a plain red t-shirt and jeans, and it recently looked like he had gotten a haircut. He was barefoot as well, as He usually was. \"Is something wrong?\"\n\n\"I just got a notification from Earth. Didn't you unleash the Apocalypse on them like I asked?\"\n\n\"Of course. Did you seed new life there and forget?\"\n\n\"No, I haven't even looked at the planet for... centuries, I think.\" God marveled at how long it had been since He last thought about His first creation. \"Regardless, the humans are still alive, and thriving.\"\n\n\"Let me see that.\" God handed the tablet to Jesus. \"Oh my. They call it the 'Black Death.'\" Jesus handed the tablet back.\n\nGod scrolled through prior notifications from the humans. \"It doesn't look like they've changed much. Lots of war, starvation, greed, corruption...\" God sighed.\n\n\"Should I go back to them? I have a new guise I could use, and I'm quite proud of it.\"\n\nGod drummed His fingers on His desk, thinking. Finally, He sighed. \"No. I think we've done all we can, and I really don't want to go through with another genocide. There are still some humans who follow Your example, so let's see if they can get things back on track.\" God tapped a few buttons on His screen and added Earth to His favorites list. \n\nJesus smiled. \"I'm glad. I always thought they had potential.\"\n\nGod smiled back. \"They do. My first creation, my best and worst at the same time.\"",
" \"Well, that was effective.\" God proclaimed. \"The bastards couldn't even see through the simplest of plots and whittled themselves down nicely. Maybe we will see some progress from this planet yet.\"\n\n \"What do you mean, Mighty One?\" Jeffrey questioned. \"You just killed off a third of the population with that nasty little flea bite disease.\"\n\n \"Well, of course I did. That was the plan... sorta. I was disappointed that it took them so long to stop praying for a solution and to start looking into the problem.\" God explained. \n \n \"I was beginning to lose hope that they would ever discover a theory of disease based on the scientific method. So many of them thinking that insane book actually had anything to do with me and actually begging me to help them while they continued to live with such poorly hygienic practices. Those are the ones that had to go. Sure there was some collateral damage, but trying to eradicate a meme is a tricky business. I may never shake that whole bible virus from them.\"\n\n \"Wait, so you killed millions of people to get rid of the ones who most admired you?' Jeffrey asked in a shocked tone.\n\n \"Come on! It isn't like billions haven't already just lived to death. Do you consider a few personalities to be that important to a grand plan for a whole planet? They actually thought asking hard enough would make me change my plans and let them devolve into mindless thought slaves. Some crack-pated, adle-brain heard voices in his head way back in the day and managed to convince some people who could write that it was actually me talking to him and telling him to kill his son. From then on that psychotic meme has just kept growing and growing and they began to think that they could ignore hygiene entirely if they just believed hard enough. Who would want such a race to survive? What if they somehow actually managed to get to space and infect all my other pet projects?\" God continued to explain. \n \n \"Nope, those fools that think a single book is all the information they ever need will continue to die by their own ignorance until the taint on their collective consciousness is wiped out. You'll see, they will eventually be ridiculed into oblivion by the ones who bother to investigate things, like these folks who made the connection with fleas and disease.\" \n\n \"Truly you have a dizzying intellect.\" Jeffrey admired. \n\n \"Wait til I get going!\"\n\n \"Though, I will have to nip these other things in the bud. There are a few fools running around on horses letting hundreds of captive rats go in other places. And some folks burning entire cities. It looks -snicker- like a biblical apocalypse to folks who won't travel more than 50 miles in a lifetime. I can't let word get out about them. It would actually add credence to the stories I'm trying to eradicate here.\" God asserted.\n\n\nEDIT: formatting",
"Crowley sat on the top step of the marble stairs, looking bored in his nicest robes and other regalia. A sole figure made his way carefully up the steps, wearing immaculate white cloth that the mud around him seemed to avoid. As the man walked up, he looked back disappointingly at a wilting garden of flowers that sat in front of the stairs and after glancing around to ensure no one was looking, walked up towards Crowley.\n\nBehind him, the flowers went into full bloom. Crowley sighed at his friend as the man dusted off a portion of the stair next to him which did more to spread the mud than fight it and then plopped down next to him.\n\n\"Well this is an odd one,\" Aziraphale said. Crowley sighed again, more agitated now, if a demon could get a headache, he had a migraine.\n\n\"Yep.\" Aziraphale glanced over and then back to the spires of smoke in the horizon.\n\n\"Some of the guys up there are saying this might have been a misfire, they're pulling everyone back.\"\n\n\"Same down below,\" Crowley answered, pointing his thumb down south. The two sat in the silence, like the silence two lovers would watch a sunset rising, but this one was between two friends watching the accidental end of the world.\n\n\"Well it's a hel- heaven of a year I suppose,\" Aziraphale admitted as a cry echoed from somewhere else in the churchyard, a cart of bodies being trundled by as the cart pusher gave a surprised glance at the plants. Someone in the cart cried he wasn't dead.\n\n\"You know, this might just be somehow worse than the 6th century.\" Another figure came strolling down the steps from the church where a funeral for a deceased duke was ongoing, his tattered priestly robes were dark, his hood up and his hands covered by the robes. The two on the stairs paid him no heed.\n\n\"Hey, at least we're getting a second chance,\" Aziraphale tried to tell his friend.\n\nSEE YOU LATER, the figure said in a voice that seemed like coffin lids slamming down. Crowley gave a half wave to the odd man and then buried his head in his hands. The century was *just* starting to look up too.",
"God smacked His hand against His forehead in exasperation. \"How did this happen? You're the best I have. How did they survive?!\"\n\nPestilence coughed into her hand awkwardly. \"It's a mystery, sir. I really couldn't tell you.\"\n\nWhat she couldn't tell the Lord, of course, was that it was His edict that had doomed the mission to failure. *\"Shouldn't we be spreading our efforts equally around the entire globe, my Lord?\"* she'd asked him all those centuries ago, only to be told *\"No, no, this lot here in Europe is all you need to focus on.\"* If only they had done something about that golden age that had been going on in the Middle East, maybe they would have succeeded.",
"\"What the fuck? They survived?!\"\n\n\"Apparently so, sir,\" the cherub replied, scanning his report. \"In addition, their numbers are growing exponentially.\"\n\n\"Bring up a visual.\" God sat back in his plush chair. Why the heck hadn't he just blown up that little rock? He had moved on to bigger and better things ages ago. The last time he'd seen humans, they were all dirty, rotten and retching, prostrating themselves and begging for salvation.\n\nThe cherub produced a holocube from his pocket, projecting a wide array of images into the air before God. Images of towering skyscrapers, doctors and scientists with cutting-edge technology, and billions of unique, thriving faces assaulted God's wide eyes.\n\n\"Well I'll be a self-damned idiot,\" he exclaimed. \"They've gotten even better than my current project!\"\n\n\"I guess so, sir. Would you like to obliterate them, then?\"\n\n\"Duh! At this rate of development, I can't have them getting any ideas about changing my design.\"\n\n\"On your order, sir. What can I do?\"\n\n\"Hmm... Page Satan to have his W.R.E.T.C.H. squad send down another plague, see how they deal with it.\"\n\n\"Unwise, sir. Human medicine has evolved to effectively combat any disease.\"\n\n\"How about natural disasters? Hurricanes, quakes, tornadoes?\"\n\n\"All major cities have been equipped with high-density adamantine storm walls. Most of the populace wouldn't feel a thing.\"\n\nGod thought a bit, then smiled.\n\n\"Have they discovered space travel?\"\n\n\"No farther than the moon of their planet, sir.\"\n\n\"Good. I haven't seen a good supernova in a long time.\"",
"\"You should have let me take care of this one, Father.\"\n\nLucifer smirked brashly as he stood before the golden throne, taking no heed of the furious Angels that stood in a great circle around them. The Power upon the throne ignored the posturing of his wayward archangel, as uncaring of the child's posturing as completely as Lucifer was of the lesser Angels. The Lord of all Evil stiffened before stepping closer to the Throne. \n\n\"You *failed*, you arrogant old fool. What of omnipotence? What of omniscience? Your hand was too weak to stamp out a few mewling apes, your aged mind too frail to forsee their survival. Yet they live, Yahweh. They live, and the laws of Heaven mean nothing to the sons of Adam now.\"\n\nLucifer's slow prowl towards the unassailable throne was halted at last, his path blocked by a crowned angel who had appeared in a flash of silver light.\n\n\"You go too far, deceiver. His Name is not for your ilk.\"\n\nLucifer's smile did not falter as he gently pushed aside the flaming sword at his neck.\n\n\"Ah, Michael. Come to join Father in his little tantrum. Old bastard hasn't moved in hours.\"\n\nMichael's eyes glowed gold, but he withdrew his blade and stepped back. His posture made it clear, however, that he would brook no further approach.\n\nAnother flash of light, and the third Archangel manifested. Gabriel.\n\n\"Father, forgive me my lateness. Azrael has disappeared. The horsemen were under his watch, and he failed You.\"\n\nThe Power spoke at last.\n\n\"*I was not failed, my child. In this, as in all things, my will was done.*\"\n\nLucifer's smile vanished. \n\n\"You will not lie to me! You did not plan for this! You did not desire this! Humanity lives, despite your decree! Your power is gone!\"\n\nThe Power shone brighter. If the great light had features, the three Archangels knew that it would be smiling. The lesser Angels remained silent, not understanding the workings that unfolded.\n\n\"*I am mercy, above all else. Those deserving of light were raised up, those who were not remained below to forge a better path. Azrael served as he was intended to. Humanity has flourished, grown beyond their ordained limitations.\"*\n\nLucifer stopped suddenly, as the truth hit him.\n\n\"You hid them from me. You took my souls, the broken ones, the damned and you hid them from me. All this, the rapture, the apocalypse, it was to trick me.\"\n\nMichael smirked. It was an odd look on so innocent a face.\n\n\"Prideful to the last.\"\n\nLucifer roared incoherently before disappearing in a wave of light. The moment he did so, The Power's light dimmed considerably. Gabriel frowned.\n\n\"Father, is there something wrong?\"\n\n\"*They were free of Lucifer's grasp, yet they continued to sin. Humanity have grown indeed, but they may have grown beyond the promise of Heaven I offer them. Where is Azrael*?\"\n\n-\n-\n-\nThe black cloak leant over the river, fishing the bedraggled creatures from it with a gentle-if bony-grasp. It sighed sadly. \n\nI HATE MY JOB, SOMETIMES."
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Write a story so manly that I grow chest hair. Have at it, boys.
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[FF]Write the most testosterone-filled story that you possibly can in 200 words or less.
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[
"\"No. Just throw it at me. Better Raw.\" Goliath threw the tyrannosaurus rex leg towards my face like a speeding bullet, I caught it in my mouth and swallowed it in one bite. \n\n\"ROGAGAGAGA ROGAGAGAGA!\" Post meal star chanting, needed them to be bright tonight, many maidens will come.\n\nFirst maiden came. Boom Boom. Strong seed, the lineage shall be eternal. Second maiden came. Boom Boom. Strong seed, a conqueror shall arise. Many maidens come. Love orb lowers, Fire orb raises; Much to do today.\n\nMany barbarians charge my village, I am only man in village. Ride wolf to meet them. They will not surrender. Throw boomerang, decapitate all, catch boomerang. Eat T-rex leg's and put seed into more maidens.\n\n",
"I, Hrothgar the Magnificent, rise afore the burning sun. As I stretch, I let out a ferocious roar that resounds in my dark cave like a battle conch. Today is another glorious day of raiding and pillaging, and I must be off before dawn breaks. I pick the remains of last night's resplendent feast from my chestfur and soak myself before I mount my steed and ride into the brilliant morning.\n\nHeroically I fly past the other raiders and pillagers, far inferior to mine own self, their steeds thinner and boxier. If ever a toll collector call me to pause, I politely indulge him with my shillings and immediately be off again. But the collectors...my patience with my enemies in battle is far greater than my patience with these.\n\nI arrive and dismount. It is quite a trek, morning after morning, from my steed to the station of my murderous plunder, but this is how I build my strong legs. The legs of Hrothgar are like trunks of great oaks...like the pillars that hold the heavens afloat! I run into the fray, crying for the heads of my new vassals!\n\nBut before I can pillage even one of my vassals, Todd approaches.\n\n\"Well, good morning there, H. Uh, hell of a yell you had this morning...was that like a battle yell? That was you right? Yeah...well. How was the commute?\"\n\nI huff.\n\n\"Good. Cool. Just wanted to make sure...you made sure and punched in this morning right?\"\n\nAgain. I huff.\n\n\"A little more gently today than yesterday?\"\n\nThe ire I hold for my enemies in battle, and toll collectors, and all of the evil and weakness in the world...they are like little harmless bugs compared to my will to crush Todd. Todd is a little bird: he is brittle, he never stops chirping. His freckly bird-like head could be crushed in my palm.\n\n\"It could have been anyone...it was a mistake. When I told you to punch in...well, I'll try to be a little more literal next time. But hey, at least you know never to do it again. And don't worry: I still haven't said a thing to Andrea about it.\"\n\n\"Said a thing about what?\" Her voice makes me simmer like a boiling couldron.\n \nThis is Andrea. Her tunic is wide and black like a billow of smoke...but her eyes give me fire in my loins and winter in my chest. She looks at Todd, and then she looks at me.\n\n\"Well,\" Todd speaks. \"Ol' Hroth here may or may not have been the perpetrator in the time-clock incident the other day.\"\n\nI adjust the nape of my suit of armor. Andrea gazes outward at nothing for a long while. Her lips draw tight. \"I'll let you off the hook this time, H.,\" she says. \"You're a good agent, after all.\"\n\nI huff. I look at the ground.\n\n\"Just don't let it happen again. Now get to work.\"\n\nI huff a huff of thanks and mount my throne. The bell on my table rings...it is like the sound of a swine squealing in pain as I tear its spine asunder. The time has finally come.\n\n\"Hello, this is Hrothgar.\"\n\n\"Yes, hello, this is Justin Mathews. My claim number is 708967-J. My car was totaled last week...it was broadsided but my claim was denied because...because apparently, like technically, the car was impacted on the front left \"shoulder,\" so not the side. Not technically. Which I guess means I'm not covered? But this simply can't be correct. I was broadsided in the middle of an intersection...this has to be some sort of mistake.\"\n\nI sit back in my throne and bare my teeth. Finally.\n\nTime to pillage."
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[WP] "You don't understand, this galaxy isn't even on the map."
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[
"\"you dont understand strife, this galaxy.. this place, its not even on a map\"\n\n\"then where is it umi? surely we have to be somewhere.., anywhere..\"\n\n\"you and i both came from earth, just from different time periods. you were at the beginning, and i was at the end. i was... a wanderer.. left behind by the fleeing helix federation, after the genocide.. the earth was a husk of what it used to be.. no resources, no nothing. we would wander the earth aimlessly, trying to put reason to the end... but enough of that, thats just a memory now, and we are here. this link. in the middle of a different universe, a plane made for a reason. a reason you and i, and all the others, have to find out.\"\n\n\"the others?\"\n\n\"yes, the other.. 10 i think\"\n\n\"how do you know so much? i cant remember a thing.. except the gun..\"\n\n\"i think.. before we came here, do you remember the signpost? the one with the lantern on top?\"\n\n\"yeah and it had all the signs.. i could only see one.. are you saying we each had a sign? is that it?\"\n\n\"i think so.. do you remember what yours said..? i think.. i think i saw them all, 11 other than my own. i think everyone has a purpose in this, something they have to fulfill or atone for, like how you said there were ghosts that couldnt move on until they were at peace..\"\n\n\"uh yeah... no i dont remember what mine said.. and... it makes sense doesnt it?.. i dont know.. but its as good a guess as any... \"\n\n\"well its just you and me until we find the others. i hope they arent too.. as you would say, violent..\"\n\n\"yeah thats the word.. youre getting better with the whole talking thing. pretty good for someone who hadnt talked for about 200 years anyway, heh.\"\n\n\"yeah.. its not to hard.. ill have to show you how we wanderers would talk.. just... its a bit complex.. and i dont know what will- \"\n\n\"yeah? hey dont worry about it, we've been talking for hours now, in my books were buddies, and you were a better buddy than i ever had back in 2016.. shit, its weird to think of the earth as a timespace rather than just 'the earth'.. and you, being able to live so long.. i cant say i would be too fond of it.. but nevermind that.. anything else you wanna talk about? it seems we have all the time in the world in this place...\"\n\n[umi & strife dialogue] \n\n<if youre wondering, im using WP's for prompts in my story, im kinda iffy about posting them, but ill give this one a shot.. >",
"The captain woke up. It was like the worst hangover he had ever felt, multiplied tenfold. He floated through the hatch, upwards, to the lounge.\n\nHe drank a lot of water and went to the bridge.\n\nHe was met with a cloud of dust and some blobs of floating liquid. Avoiding it, he went near the mainframe and dusted off the main screen. It would have been risky if the ship controls were mechanical, but humanity had long outgrown such stuff. And it was fortunate, because the corners were worn.\n\nHow long had he been out?\n\nChecking the hibernation logs, he saw a cipher that would have made him lose his ground if he weren't in microgravity.\n\n20 050 364 125:356:13:31:50\n\nHe woke the navigator immediately and started checking the telescope.\n\nAfter drinking and getting his ideas straight, he asked how long he had been out.\n\n\"Longer than we should. Come, you have to check this.\"\n\nAvoiding the water blob, the navigator immediately realized his captain didn't lie. The whole ship seemed worn. On the inside, at least.\n\nThe captain pointed at the touchscreen.\n\n\"We've been out for twenty billion years!\"\n\n\"Yes. I've checked the telescope, but I can't make sense of anything. You know more about this stuff than me. Tell me, where are we?\"\n\nThe navigator dusted off his screen and started working.\n\n\"Nowhere.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Nowhere. We've been going for twenty billion years. We could be anywhere.\"\n\n\"Well, why don't you check for pulsars?\"\n\n\"I'm doing so, but they have a lifespan of about a hundred million years. We've outlived most of them.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Really. We've been out for a long time.\"\n\n\"Then how will we know where we are?\"\n\n\"We won't.\"\n\n\"Can't you check for known stars?\"\n\n\"You don't understand. This galaxy, home or not, isn't even on the map. They've been outdated for so long, stars so dimmed by time, that whether we're in the Milky Way or not, it is no longer our galaxy. The best I can do is set another course and see where I can take us.\"\n\nThe realization just dawned on the captain.",
"\"You don't understand. This galaxy isn't even on the map.\"\n\nThe captain leaned over my shoulder as she looked at my screen. The control room was dimly lit, as though by pre-dawn light and the air was still chilly as the ship finished heating up the habitable zones.\n\n\"How is that possible?\" she asked. \"The telescopes mapped out all of our observable bubble years ago.\"\n\n\"Only in the broadest sweeps,\" I said. \"None of these stars are cataloged.\" In an area with cataloged stars, it was easy to orient yourself again if you got off course--enter the color, intensity, size and type of any four stars, measure their relative distances to each other, and the catalog would pinpoint your position in the universe.\n\n\"Secondary methods?\" the captain asked.\n\n\"I can get the big telescope up and running, but we won't be able to do anything with it until the gurus finish.\" At the moment two of our technology gurus were attempting to figure out when and how the navigation console had been overridden and if our missing log files could be recovered. It took a lot of computing power. If they could recover the files, I wouldn't need to use the telescope at all, but...\n\n\"Good. Do it.\" My stomach twinged with fear. The captain didn't think the files could be recovered. \"Keep working on the catalog until the computers are freed up, as far out as we can accurately measure.\"\n\nI nodded and put my console to sleep, then went to gear up for the trek out to the telescope. \n\nThe telescope was technically inside the ship, but it was not housed in any of the habitable zones. It sat under a giant shield dome in the outermost layer of the ship, gazing out at the heavens through a clean, pure vacuum. \n\nIt was a good twenty minute walk out to the telescope. I punched my security code into door after door as I moved through the layers of the ship, dim pink-green lights guided my way, the color of dawn on earth. The temperature and air pressure dropped as I went, while gravity pulled at me less and less. I finished the last few hundred yards by pull-cable, clipping myself onto a handle that would drag me effortlessly up to the outer shell of the ship. It reminded me of the ski tows I'd used the one and only time I'd gone skiing as a child.\n\nI put in my code one last time and entered the telescope room. It was dark and silent as only a vacuum could be. All that could be heard was the quiet hum of my respirator and the beating of my own heart. Getting the machine running only took a few moments. I paused before radioing the captain. She and I both knew it would be pointless to continue fumbling with the catalog--she was only trying to make me feel useful while the gurus sorted out the problem.\n\nI turned back to the telescope and switched the functions to full manual and zipped up the darkroom. A half sphere of stars filled the space before me, slowly sliding and spinning as I manipulated the scope.\n\nI could look at stars forever. I knew them like a baseball fan knows all the players in the league. I knew what they were made of, how they were born and how they would someday die. I knew their planets and satellites and which ones showed potential for life. I watched the projections before me, at peace despite the dangerous situation we were in. \n\nSomeone had sabotaged us, I realized. No interstellar ship had had a navigation error since the new tech systems had been implemented, ten years before our own departure. Even before that they had been rare. Somehow, here among the stars, it didn't bother me. The captain and the gurus would figure out the who's and why's and how's of the attack.\n\nDown below, the lights would be brightening to morning, the crew waking after their long sleep to confusion and fear. While I stood alone in the great cold silence with nothing but the vast puzzle of the stars.",
"\"You don't even understand, this galaxy isn't even on the map.\"\n\n\"That doesn't mean its a good investment! Maybe there's a reason it's not on the map!\"\n\nI shook my head. Anderson could be so slow sometimes. \"Exactly. We find out *why*, and then we go and fix it, and then we make a killing selling the planets!\"\n\nHe snorted. \"Go and fix it? Do you know what kinds of things explorers find in these galaxies? There are alien monsters, alien plagues, black holes, higgs-boson negation fields. Get this into your thick skull: YOU ARE NOT CUT OUT FOR REAL ESTATE.\"",
"\"You don't tell me what to understand, you tell me where to go. You're a navigator, remember?\" \n\n\"Yes sir, I know that. Just as I know I'm the navigator; I know you're the 'commander' of this 'ship', the only other person aboard, horrible to talk to, and that we're about to blindly fly into an uncharted galactic system.\" \n\n\"That'll be enough jib out of you. One more outburst and I'll have you thrown in the brig. Bring up the LTD sensor arrays, and try to contact... What's that?\" \n\n\"There's nothing on the scanner, *commander*. Wait, there it is. It wasn't showing up a moment ago. The closer we get, the clearer the return signal is.\"\n\n\"Shut up and go below deck. There's some sort of spherical horizon ahead. It's massive. Where are you going? Sit down and help me *navigate* this thing.\"\n\n\"B.. Yes sir. Change heading to sigma 1. Continue on route.\"\n\"You're right. This thing is surrounding the entire system. It's some sort of galactic cloak.\"\n\n\"In the middle of the terran Dominion? I don't think so. It would have been discovered by now.\"\n\n\"Our position in relation to the horizon has changed. Reverse course. We shouldn't be moving closer, sir.\"\n\n\"I haven't changed course.\""
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Optional brownie points: do not use christianity
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[WP]: A man gets hit by a bus and discovers that there IS an afterlife. It is not the one of the religion he practiced
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[
"Timothy gripped the haft of his war-axe, swinging it with gusto into the laughing face of the blond behemoth opposite him.\n\nWell, it wasn't *his* war axe. But when you find yourself in a pitched and neverending battle armed with a stapler, a staple remover, and an outdated HP laptop that should have been replaced years ago, you learn to improvise.\n\nHe howled out his pleasure at the kill, shoving the giant down and leaping over the corpse, axe pulling free from the crushed skull with a *glorp* and a *squish*. His khakis flapped in the breeze, bloodstained and torn, as he landed on the back of Bjorn Ironssides, glad of his chance to take down a champion and earn honor and a better place at the long table.\n\nOh, at first he'd fought against it -- he was a Lutheran, and was certain he'd only ended up in Valhalla due to some paperwork being mixed up. After all, he died in a freak office fire, not valiantly upon a nordic field.\n\nHe'd gone to the Head Office (where a tree spirit in spectacles told him to go fuck himself, but less politely), he'd filed several complaints (with two officious Ravens, one of whom was thinking about something else, and the other of whom could not be bothered to remember. They also told him to go fuck himself, but more politely.)\n\nHe'd tried hiding, he'd tried running, he'd tried any number of things, but his progress was incessantly interrupted by unexpected decapitation, dismemberment or, on one memorable occasion, defenestration.\n\nOne day, exceptionally upset by the nonfunctional beaurocracy of the Norse afterlife, Timothy snapped, leapt on top of Thorolf Kveldulfsson and stabbed him repeatedly in the eye with a ballpoint pen. Donning his armor, he proceeded to hack 13 heroes to pieces before being torn apart by wolves.\n\nThat night, he realized he'd never been happier -- even when he was marked a Leading for his performance on the J&J account.\n\nSince then, he'd become something of a local legend; starting every day with nothing but his pitiful weapons and endless supply of stored up rage, he was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, and rarely failed to account himself in heroic fashion.\n\nEveryone agreed it was too bad he'd never gotten a Saga in life. A few of the lads were thinking of commissioning one.\n\nOverall, it was a pretty good afterlife, after all.",
"It was quick. A flash of white and suddenly he stood out in a grassy field. The sky was odd. It seemed to be changing too quickly to be natural. Like it was sunny one moment, and could be cloudy or stormy the next. There was no rain though. Not here. A mountain range rose to his left, and a copse of pine trees grew to the right.\n\nIt looked windy too, but he couldn't feel it. As if the thought summoned the sensation, he suddenly felt a light breeze against his skin. *Odd,* he thought. He didn't feel it a moment ago. He surveyed his surroundings. There was an eerie lack of noise here. No rustling of the leaves, or whispers from the grass. Like stars winking into existence, his sensations seeped back to his consciousness one by one as he thought of them. \n\nAs he stepped forward, the unanticipated feeling of dirt between his toes made him glance down. *I'm naked!* he thought, startled. Without warning, clothes popped into being over him. He froze, unsure of what to do. *What is this place?* he mused. *Am I alone here?* It felt like he was being watched by thousands of eyes. Unbidden thoughts of wild life sprung to his mind. \n\nA piercing howl rang out across the field. Alerted, spear in hand, he turned to face the source of the call and saw a monstrous wolf staring at him from the shadow of the trees. It's golden eyes bright and ominous against its dark shaggy grey fur. He crouched low, and raised his spear. His plated armor didn't seem to weigh him down. In fact, he wasn't even focused on himself at all. His full attention turned to the beast staring him down. Its growl rumbled deep and full. He felt it more than heard it. As if thinking about the animal somehow made it more real. He was beginning to panic. \n\nAs if out of thin air, more wolves began to appear. Each as monstrous and terrible as the first. *This is bad* he thought. The wolves broken into a vast loping sprint. Each stride seemed 10 feet long. He turned an ran for the hills, completely naked. He had no defense against such unnatural devils. His mind was racing, when a rock, hidden by the grass, tripped him. He fell hard, sprawling into the dirt. *No no no!* he shrieked. He curled into a ball and shut his eyes fast to escape the horrible scenario and waited. The moments passed agonizingly slowly but nothing happened. \n\nHe peeked out from his hands and gasped. He no longer hunkered down in the grass. He sat up and gazed out at the world laid out before him. Standing, he realized he was atop the mountains he noticed upon his arrival to this strange place. Snow and ice covered every rock and tree below him. A biting cold hit him all at once as he scanned his surroundings, forcing a shiver to cascade down his spine.\n\nWishing for warmth, he was unexpectedly clothed in warm fur with sturdy boots and a hood over his ears. The crackling of a robust campfire greeted his ears. *What is going on?* he thought to himself. He edged closer to the fire. *It's definitely there, but how?* He could feel the heat penetrating his this clothing. He sat close to the fire, not even noticing the log stump that materialized for him to sit on, and peered into the flames. \n\nHis contemplation was interrupted by the sound of a boot crunching the snow. A man, tall and broad, with a thick curly beard was standing next to his fire. He only wore light clothing, somehow untouched by the cold. His eyes were a deep gold, the same color as the wolves. The stranger turned to him, those unsettling eyes reflecting back too much light. \n\n\"You're new here.\" It was not a question. \"This is a dangerous place. You need to leave. Now.\"\n\nAt the strangers words, he felt wispy, as if a breeze could take him away and dissipate him into nothingness. The lightness grew stronger and he almost felt as if he was fading away then suddenly the prickling sensation vanished and the stranger's eyes grew wide with shock. \n\n\"You're actually here, not just dreaming? That puts you in far more danger than I realized\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" He asked the golden eyed stranger. \n\nThe man turned towards the open landscape, turning his gaze out on the rolling fields and forests below. \"This place\" he began hesitantly, \"is not of the waking world. *Tel'aran'rhiod* it is called, and it is very deadly to the untrained mind. I don't know how you came to this place, but you're here in the flesh and that puts you in more danger than you realize. We can't talk here, someone might be listening. We need to move.\"\n\nThe stranger put a heavy hand on his shoulder.\n\n*shift*\n\n",
"It was a strange feeling Justin had. He knew he was laying on the asphalt, the hot tar burning a patch in his left ass cheek which for some reason was currently exposed, but despite knowing he was laying down, he felt like he was falling. He looked to the sky, clouds staying in their same positions instead of rising away like he felt like they should be doing. The illusion of falling broke whenever he saw a head peep over him.\n\n\"Someone's calling 911 right?\" he heard a voice say.\n\n\"I thought someone else had already done it.\"\n\n\"Has anyone here called an ambulance yet?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"My free minutes don't kick in until after 7, someone else call.\" \n\n\"The hell was he doing? He just walked right out in front of the bus.\"\n\nHe saw a woman peek over at him, long brunette hair hanging close to his face. She pushed some of her hair back over her shoulder. His eyes caught a golden locket hanging off a silver chain from her neck. He took in one breath, cringing at the sudden onset of pain in his stomach. He looked to her, wondering if she was going to be the one to save him from the cluster of idiots surrounding him. \n\n\"I don't think it's going to matter, he's gone-er than a meth head on payday,\" she said in as strong southern drawl. \n\n\"Fuck,\" he slowly exhaled, closing his eyes, the feeling of falling once again overtaking him. \n\n____________________________________________________________\n\n\"Hey-o. I said, heeey-o.\"\n\nJustin felt something poking him in the ribs. He opened his eyes and saw a small girl with curly red hair poking him with a twig. He weakly swatted the twig away and then closed his eyes to go back to sleep. \n\n\"Hey-o.\"\n\nMore prodding. All he wanted to do was just go back to sleep and hope that someone would take him to the hospital. \n\n\"Heeeeey-o. Wake up mister.\"\n\nJustin finally sat up, aware of his surroundings. He appeared to be in a small park; there were people walking around on the paths, and off to the side was a small playground complete with a jungle gym, slide, and even a merry-go-round. He looked down and saw that he was sitting on a bench, and that the red-headed girl had managed to reclaim her twig and was going to work on his ribs.\n\n\"Quit it,\" he said, grabbing the twig and throwing it to the side. \n\n\"That's not nice mister,\" she said, sliding off the bench, \"it's a wonder how you got here and not the other place.\"\n\n\"Other place? Where am I?\"\n\n\"You died mister, and popped up right here,\" she said, pointing down to the gravel where a melting vanilla ice-cream cone was sitting. \"Scared the poop out of me, you owe me a ice-cream.\"\n\nHe looked around and saw that people were watching him and the little girl. \"Why are they staring?\" he asked the red-headed girl. \n\n\"It's always inturresting when a person pops up, most of the time they never show up in parks, more so in the rooms,\" the girl said, prodding the ice-cream cone with a twig. \"You oughta go see Blake, he'll tell you what to do.\"\n\n\"Is there, um, a Jesus I can speak to?\" \n\nThe little girl twirled her red curly hair in her finger, looking up at the sky, thinking. \"I know a couple Hay-seuses, but I don't know a Geezus, just go to Blake, come on, I'll take you.\"\n\nShe grabbed a hold of Justin's hand, sticky from where the ice-cream had been melting, and pulled him off the bench. Part of him didn't feel right being led around by what looked like a 10 year old, but there really wasn't much of an option. \n\nPeople continued to stare as they walked through the park up until they made it to a street where a taxi was already waiting. The little girl climbed in first, then comically slapped the seat next to her, \"Get in,\" she said, \"after Blake's, you're taking me to get another ice-cream.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Justin muttered, climbing into the seat.\n\n\"Promise?\" \n\n\"Promise.\"\n\nThe taxi drive took off, already knowing where they were heading.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThey arrived at a small house after a brief drive through a city that Justin had no recollection of. He looked around at street signs and buildings, hoping to see something that he'd recognize, but no. He had asked the little girl where they were, but she refused to answer, instead she pursed her lips together and made a key-locking motion, then a toss. She threw away the key. \n\nThe little girl knocked excitedly on the door for several seconds until there was a loud, \"COME IN!\" \n\nShe flung the door open and skipped in, with Justin cautiously following behind. They stepped into a small living room with a couch up against the wall and a desk with a computer in a corner. Sitting there was a gruff man, probably no older than 25. He was wearing a hoodie, wrinkled jeans, and only one sock which looked like it hadn't been washed in days. He turned to face Justin and the little girl, hair a greasy mop on his head. \n\n\"Another one Angie?\"\n\n\"Yup, made me drop my ice-cream cone. He promised to get me another one.\"\n\n\"Did you?\" Blake asked.\n\nJustin shrugged.\n\n\"Well, I guess you're wondering what's going on,\" Blake said as he stood from his chair. He stretched out his arms. \"Welcome to the afterlife.\"\n\nJustin looked around.\n\n\"Yeah, I know it's not much, I forgot to pay the landlord at the last place, got kicked out for a few months, I'll be back there though, at my much nicer place.\"\n\n\"Um,\" Justin muttered, \"are you God?\"\n\nBlake dropped his outstretched arms. He scratched his head, \"I dunno, I was just the first one here.\"\n\n\"The first one here?\"\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well,\" he said, plopping himself into a chair, \"it's been awhile, but I distinctly remember getting trampled by what people now know as dinosaurs, and after that, poof, I was here, quickly followed by several other people I knew of who were getting attacked by the other dinos.\"\n\n\"You're joking,\" Justin said. \n\n\"Nope. People first looked up to me, seeing me as their leader and all, but really, I was no different from them. Soon, they all moved on, but every now and then people do come to me for help, guidance, whatever, being that I have been here the longest.\"\n\n\"Is this another life?\" Justin asked after a few moments pause. \n\n\"Not really, I don't think so,\" Blake answered.\n\n\"Can, uh, we die here?\"\n\nWithout hesitation, Blake opened a drawer from the desk, pulled out what looked like was a revolver, aimed it at Angie, and blew a hole clean through her head. Her body fell to the ground with an odd thump. \n\n\"Holy shit!\" Justin yelled, falling over himself as he scrambled to get away from Angie's body. \"Why'd you do that?\"\n\n\"Wait for it,\" Blake said, hands now outstretched in front of him, as if he were about to reveal a grand magic trick. \"Waaaaait for it.\" Nothing happened for several moments. Angie's body just laid there on the carpet, blood soaking into the fabric. \"Huh, well this is kind of awkward.\"\n\nAngie's body began to shimmer, \"Oh there it is, whooo, I was scared there for a second,\" and then it vanished, along with the mess that was left behind from her eviscerated head. \n\n\"Where did she go?\" Justin said, almost in tears.\n\n\"More than likely back to the park, that's her favorite place,\" Blake answered, opening the drawer to his desk and placing the revolver in. He pulled out a wallet from the drawer, then pulled out a blue slip that looked like monopoly money. \n\n\"Here,\" he said, handing the slip to Justin, \"I always get her an ice-cream cone whenever I blow her head off without warning, go find her, get her a treat, then come back. Got some other things to talk about.\"\n\nJustin took the slip, then walked outside the house, wondering what the hell was going on. \n",
"\"Welcome, child! I am The Sun!\"\n\n\"Yes, I can see that. So....you're God then?\"\n\n\"Indeed, what you know as a god anyway. I am the divine personification of the life-giving star that orbits your Earth.\"\n\n\"Uh, actually, the Earth orbits you.\"\n\n\"Oh? You know this?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we learned about that in 3rd grade. Someone figured that out like 500 years ago. Newton I think.\"\n\n\"Well I'm glad my children have learned so much! When you first began worshiping me, you were little more than animals yourselves, living in caves, afraid of your own shadows. There are so many wonders to my glory that I must share with you. Do you know what I am made of, for example? You might assume it is coal or trees, but...\"\n\n\"Hydrogen and helium. And I think you might have some iron and carbon in your core, but that might not be until you get closer to exploding.\"\n\n\"How....I....it is not possible for your species to visit me! How could you know this?\"\n\n\"Spectrometer I think? I know they take light from you and break it down into color, and by analyzing these lines that show up in the spectrum they can determine what elements you have.\"\n\n\"Astounding...\"\n\n\"Look, I don't mean to be rude here, but this is pretty basic stuff. We've known this for at least a hundred years or so. Have you not been paying attention to Earth this whole time?\"\n\n\"You'll forgive me, but your lifespans are so short...it's difficult for me to keep track. I am over four billion years old, you know.\"\n\n\"Actually it's more like 4.6 billion years.\"\n\n\"What? No....it hasn't been that long, has it?\"\n\n\"Again, I'm not trying to be a know it all here, and I'm no scientist, but I did watch a lot of Science Channel...I'm pretty sure that's accurate. Hasn't...hasn't anyone else told you this? Billions of people have died since we started figuring this stuff out.\"\n\n\"Child, you're the first soul I've met since....oh....oh no. I...I got so distracted hitting on that passing quasar that....oh my goodness...\"\n\n\"What quasar? What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Child, you cannot understand. When one of you dies, your soul comes to meet me, and I must be ready to receive you. Except this quasar was passing by, and it had been so long since any of you had been worshiping me, I...I just forgot about you and...how many revolutions has it....OH NO....so many...how could I forget...\"\n\n\"What is happening here? Are you trying to tell me that you've just forgotten to save the souls of the dead for over 400 years?\"\n\n\"More like 2000....The Galaxy is going to kill me...\"\n\n\"The Galaxy? What is the Galaxy, like...Super God? What does that...\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, child, this isn't your problem. Here, you're accepted into my Kingdom, comeandbebathedineternalfire.\"\n\n\"WAIT, I....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!\"\n\n\"Ooooh, forgot to give him his divine body...that's got to hurt. Alright, Sun, no more messing around. You're gonna cut down on the comets, you're gonna get up early and do 20 flares every morning, and get your life together! Let's see, who's up next?\"",
"He looked down at his chest, his ribs poked out from the rends in his maroon robe. His blood soaked the robes, not changing the color at all, just making them look wet. He looked up at the bus; it looked like a giant predator standing over its prey waiting to consume him. The impact of his head had left a symmetrical circle of cracked glass centered in a red smudge, as if the great beast was looking down on him with a single red eye. \n\n\nPain permeated his body, but as his life of meditation had taught him; he focused on his breath, meditated and let the pain flow out of his body. Lying on the street meditating, he looked up at the bus that had just hit him, then the forest of tall buildings that surrounded him, closed his eyes one last time, focused his mind on the serenity of the moment. \n\n\nHe was acutely aware as he left his mangled body, just a mere physical vessel, and stood, invisible in the middle of the street. He saw the ambulance rapidly approaching, he watched as the EMT struggled with how to perform chest compressions on a chest with ribs sticking out. Then he watched as a huge woman on a massive white horse rode down the sidewalk, the crowd gently parting unconsciously for her. She rode right up to him:\n\n\n“Hello. It’s a glorious day to die, and you have died well.”\n\n\nHe was confused, he knew he was dead, he had no trouble accepting that, but he thought death would provide more clarity and a path forward, and instead there was a large woman, on a large horse, with large breasts staring at him hungrily. \n\n\n“Are you my next human vessel? Am I to be reborn as you?”\n\n\n“Reborn? Who would want to be reborn? Great warriors sit at Odin’s table in Valhalla until Ragnorak! You will rest from your worldly struggles until the ultimate war and then you will have the honor of fighting shoulder to shoulder with the greatest warriors, Thor, Heimdallr, and Odin himself.”\n\n\nShe was flushed from the excitement before quietly adding:\n\n\n“Well, half of the warriors at least, the other half goes for an extended stroll around in some meadows to train for the great battle. Pretty boring lot that half”\n\n\nShe dismounted from her horse; she must have stood seven feet tall. At just a little over five and a half feet tall, his eyes were level with her leather-clad breasts. He had long ago trained his body to exist beyond the typical male urges. Sensual pleasure was little more than the easiest path to suffering. As he had practiced his entire life when he encountered sexual temptation, he centered his breath, focused his mind on himself and…felt nothing. He had forgotten, he had no breath, he had no body, and his urges simply would not listen to his mind, he couldn’t stop staring, in fact he wanted to stare more!\n\n\nThe woman laughed at his discomfort:\n\n\n“Ah the great warrior, such drive, such strength, if I were not on duty, I would feel that strength between my thighs”\n\n\nMore than a little confused, he replied: “I’m supposed to be reborn. Surely, forgive me, enlightenment is not a large woman with eager thighs?”\n\n\n“There is nothing to forgive. I am simply here to collect you. I do not make mistakes.” With that she grabbed him around the waist, heaved him up on her horse and then jumped on behind him, straddling his hips and putting her arms around him as she grabbed the reins of the horse. Her voice boomed in his ears as she spoke:\n\n\n“You will not be reborn; you will live on as a warrior, a great warrior.”\n\n\n\n“Um, I think you are mistaken, I am not a warrior. I am, well was, a monk at the Vihara down the street. I cannot be a warrior, in fact my entire life has been rather the opposite to that of a warrior.”\n\n\nHe felt her breath on his ear as she spoke more quietly to him.\n\n\n“Not all battles are fought with other men and not all wars can be won by killing. You have spent your life fighting against the hunger, like a rock fighting the river; you have stood fast. You have held against the deluge, and when you fell, you did not stay down, you focused and stood up again, even stronger than before. You are resilient. You are the strongest of warriors\"\n\n\nShe paused, her breath no longer in his ear, he could feel her stare into the distance above his head. \n\n\n“Ragnorak will be the last war, and not all the battles will be fought with axes and swords. Now relax, we are in no hurry and time no longer matters, but still it is a long journey to Valhalla.”\n\n\nThe monk sighed, and let his shaven head fall back against the soft chest of the Valkyrie. She hummed to him, from deep in her chest and the low tone along with the rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves slowly faded as he drifted off the sleep. It had been a long life and he was tired. \n",
"Ezekiel the prophet walked proudly down the street, his golden robes flowing from his broad shoulders. Today he would venture forth into the desert and commune with his Lord, the one true God.\n\nBut first, he needed to stock provisions. He purchased some dates from the market, and then met a man selling figs who had said something strange to him.\n\n“Today-eth is a most portentous day-eth,” the man said.\n\n“Why-eth say you thus?” Ezekiel said.\n\n“O’er yonder hillock,” the man said, “I did espy a murder of seven and seven crows, encircling-eth the sun.”\n\n“Thine augury is folly,” Ezekiel said, “For there is but one true God and He is Lord and He createth the birds but he speaketh not through them. He speaketh in the desert!” Ezekiel gestured down the road towards the desert. \n\nThe man had disagreed, and they had a difficult time negotiating the price of the figs after that. \n\nEzekiel was on his way to fill up his waterskin at the well when he heard a loud rumbling noise in the sky. He looked up.\n\nSuddenly, a great flaming chariot burst out of the sun. It was flying straight towards him. Was this some message from God? He stared at the chariot, though its brilliance afflicted his eyes with powerful suffering. Mortal pain was nothing. If this was a message from God, he would bear through any worldly torment in order to decipher its contents.\n\nThe chariot grew larger and larger. It was yellow, with black stripes. \n\nHe watched the chariot approach. There was a woman with frizzly red hair sitting in the front seat of the chariot. There appeared to be many rows of seats behind her, filled with children.\n\nThere was some kind of lettering at the front of the chariot. It spelled ‘F-O-R-D’. But what did that mean? Was God speaking some unknown language? Perhaps the chariot would pick him up and take him to meet God.\n\nEzekiel was mentally preparing an eloquent speech with which to greet the chariot-master. He would compliment the chariot master on her exquisite vehicle and he would praise God for facilitating the creation of such a wondrous vehicle. He would say a prayer together, and---\n\nBAM! The chariot knocked him to the ground. His robes caught on the undercarriage of the chariot and he was dragged against the sand for several kilometers before he finally bled out and died.\n\nThe last sound he heard was the voice of a whiny child saying, “Ohhhh, I knew I should have stayed home today!”.\n\nxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx\n\nEzekiel opened his eyes. He was standing in front of a set of large, imposing pearly gates.\n\nAt last! Ezekiel told himself, I have come to the Kingdom of Heaven.\n\nHe approached the gate.\n\n“Arr, matey,” a voice yelled.\n\nEzekiel looked around to see who was speaking. There were no people present. The only thing he could see was a pile of spaghetti, floating in the air off to the side of the gates.\n\n“Arr!” The pile of spaghetti said.\n\n“What?” Ezekiel said.\n\n“Talk like a pirate, damn ye!” the pile of spaghetti demanded.\n\n“What’s a pirate?” Ezekiel asked.\n\n“Aw Christ!” the spaghetti swore, “We got another one of ye!”\n\nThere was a pause. Ezekiel looked at the spaghetti helplessly.\n\n“Oh, alrighty then,” the spaghetti said, and the gates swung open. “Come on in and watch the orientation film.”\n \n"
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[WP] June 14th, 2021, the day Canadians stopped apologizing.
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"This is the first time I've ever written on a [WP].\n\n================================\nThis was the day. Canada had had enough of the ignorance, bigotry, carelessness, lack of responsibility and overall failures on the world of human's behave. This was the day the Canadian Prime-minister would speak directly to the world and his people. With superior confidence and his people behind him he stood confidently in front of the podium.\n\n~~~~~\n\nHe took his first breath in what would become the new world and spoke. \"We as Canadian's will not apologize for what will begin to happen over the course of the next 20 years....\" The nations of the world listening intently to the words of Canada's great leader.\n\n~~~~~\n\n\"Many nations of human history have caused war and pointless destruction to ourselves and the entire world we share. Enough is enough. We will no longer stand idle by while the people of the world destroy the air we share, the lands we share, the entire world. It's destruction is become ever imminent as we progress with relentless callace to raise ourselves higher and leave destruction in our wake. Today it stops. We will be creating teams of Canadians. Roughly a group of 100 Canadian peoples will be sent to each individual country of the world to teach what we have learned in such a short time. Being an extremely young country only 154 years old, our birthday comes next month making us 155. In this short time we have welcomed one and all to come live in the great land of Canada. To start a new and share this land to become a great people. With no restrictions of colour, religion, or life style. As long as everyone allows each other to partake in life as they wish to live it. We will continue to grow together and become something more then just a country but the largest family ever known. We have in a short time come into a 100% green living lifestyle and as much as this accomplishes on it's own with the entire world still littering, pouring, and throwing toxic chemicals and garbage all over our home, our impact does little as a whole earth ecosystem. We will not apologize for our invasion for it's not an invasion but a gift of love we will spread across the world and welcome you all with open arm's into our family.\"\n \n~~~~~\n\nWith that the prime-minister of Canada waved and thanked the world as Canadians cheered and cried and hugged the world was left confused...\n\n~~~~~\n\nFast track to the year 2026 the groups of 100 Canadians entered and engulfed many of the country's of the world in the short time. Only 5 years into the project and already Australlia, Germany, Italy, Sweden, India, Switzerland, Iceland, Wales, Austria, Scottland , Greenland, Norway, England, Iran, South korea and over half the country's in africa as well as half the populace of China were already on board. Within the 5 years the Canadians taught so much and it seemed as though every word and smile sunk in considering the pace of country's joining Canada's example. Historically arrogant and hardheaded nations like America, Russia, Japan, Iraq, Brazil, Mexico, Columbia, and the richer half of china were rejecting the teams at the front door. But the inevitable was already here. Canada was reaching out with love, compassion, understanding, and moral fortitude. The world began to align and unite as a whole and there was little any country, group, or coalition could do to stop it.\n\n~~~~~\n\nTogether the United Canadian Country's began to mobilize. Enormous Collective funds began to flow in from the untied people to push forward clean energy in each country involved. National protected parks started emerging in area's all around the world and organizations were constructed to maintain the balance of the animals in the eco systems damaged by the touch of human. Country after country began to willingly join Canada's fight to sustain our planet and it's inhabitants. ALL it's inhabitants. Within the 5 years numbers of endangered animals in these participating country's ceased to reduce and already had 5 endangered species on the brink of being taken off the endangered species list. \n\n~~~~~\n\nWhole corporations were built on world life recovery and teams were dispatched to garbage island to clean the mess left floating. As well as in the oceans and to protect animals land, air, and sea from our self destructive history. Wars and trivial arguments between other nations began to dissipate as the teams of Canadian's showed each side how to listen to the person your arguing with and understand where they are coming from and people started TALKING. Rather then hitting each other with sticks and bullets and racial slurs. The world was uniting under Canada's peaceful glory. \n\n~~~~~\n\nHow could a nation so young be so wise? confident and powerful in morale value? It was like standing before buddah himself at the ripe age of 15 with wisdom beyond his years and the strength and passion to stand for what could be. World Peace.\n\n~~~~~\n\nWithin another 5 years there was but only a handful of nations still fighting Canada's wave of Ascension. The unemployment rate in the collective nations of the Canadian Project was 0.9%. The country's still fighting Canada's World Ascension. Their people were turning on their own leaders, protests in every capital were making their point. Canada's got it right. Greed full corporations were torn down and companies were destroyed or replaced with Perfect Product Procedure Act. Only one company can produce one good, to the full potential and capabilities of our greatest scientific ability and every citizen of United Nations of Canada had a right to own these products. \n\n~~~~~\n\nSo just for being alive you were given a phone with 100% service guarantee anywhere in the world, with a battery life of almost 3 full day's, with free connection to the internet whenever, where ever. So every Citizen of United Nations of Canada can remain in communication with the movement and all his extended family members. Oil was out and electric cars were in. Designed with magnetic braking systems originally created in the 80's that were disbanded because they were to efficient and never needed replacing, with entire focus on optimum product service the most reliable eco-friendly car was created, manufactured and shipped around the world using recycled oil powered cars. We were cleaning this world up and making the best out of everything that is human scientific ingenuity.\n\n~~~~~\n\nOn the 19th year it was final. America, Russia and North Korea gave in. Kim jung-ill was killed by his own people for the lies he bestowed upon his people. It mainly took so long because the entire nation is under the impression and mind alteration of Kim being a god and the communication of it's people to the outside world was but almost entirely cut off. America being one of the major contributors to greed, control and pure evil incarnate for leaders. It's government turned on it's people and used mainstream media to lie about Canada's intentions and said thing's like Canada is the anti-Christ and a harborer of war and control. But it's people knew they were being lied too and their governments collapsed to Canada's purity. It was on this year the world together united to vote to have Earth's name Changed to Canadia. \n\n~~~~~\n\nOn this day the new Prime-Minister of Canada approached the world united together for the first official united speech. Many Prime-minister's came and went and did great things for the movement but on this year the prime-minister was none other then the son of the first to start this movement. His name was Adam pierre von-Muhammad. People adored him and his family's legacy and he encouraged the world to call him PM VM( Prime-Minister Von-Muhammad) just for fun. A Man with the mixed blood of many nations. His father was a french, Irish, and German descendant. His mother a mixture of Latin, Scottish, as well as Iranian and Laos. An already rich mixture from generations in a mixed nationality of Canada.\n\n~~~~~\n\n\"Hello world!\" he shouted into the microphone and a crowd of 1.8 million people cheered at just the sound of his voice. Eager and excited the people bellowed supportive screams and cheers. Not to mention the 6 and more billion people watching from around the world. \n\n~~~~~\n\n\"This is the day! THIS DAY! We Celebrate World Unity Day!\" he shouted with proud strength. The people screamed even louder in full support of the Ascension of the world. Tear's and hugs were all that could be managed as the world felt loved by itself from this moment on. \"Together we have made happiness, balance, and safety a world right! For every inhabitant, every human, dog, lemur, elephant, and snail have the right to a home, to life, and to be what they are and maintain free balance. We are eradicating disease faster then ever before and mental health is becoming but a thing of the past. There are no poor and there are no rich. No one is starving and no one is being murdered. Together WE stand and united WE fall forever on, as WE ARE ALL ONE!!!\" he shouted as a tear rolled down his face with unwavering confidence. Together 1.8 million people screamed and applauded and cried and prayed in thanks for this gift of unity. \n\n~~~~~\n\n\"THIS IS THE DAY!\" He cried. \"THE DAY WE WILL ALL REMEMBER, THAT WILL GO DOWN IN INFAMY. THIS IS THE DAY WE WILL EMBRACE ONE ANOTHER AND SHARE OUR INDIVIDUALITY AND BLEND WITH EACH OTHER TO BECOME SOMETHING GREATER TOGETHER.\"\n\n~~~~~\n\nThe people were beyond delighted, they were beyond happy. They were at peace. Together.\n\n~~~~~\n\n\"We Canadians stopped apologizing 19 years ago, WE seen a broken world and said only we can fix that. WE looked near and far and said if you can't use it right then give it to someone who will. WE took your land and your people and your governments and fixed them. We are the first nation to conquer the entire known world, and we did it with peace... AND WE ARE NOT FUCKING APOLOGIZING!!!\" He shouted with fist in air. The crowd went completely bonkers. \n\n\n\n\n=============================================\n\nSo I really only had a beginning and an end for this. ",
"Americans never understood why Canadians were so polite. They always said \"sorry\", or \"I'm sorry\". What the Americans never understood, was that for Canadians, \"I'm sorry\" meant a hundred different things. From \"watch your fucking step\" to \"excuse me\", I'm sorry had served Canadians well.\n\nOn June 14th, 2021 the day of the Maple Syrup Revolution, a day that will live on in infamy. Canadians stopped saying I'm sorry. Now, you'll hear Canadians telling you to fuck off, openly. It's truly refreshing.",
"> We're not sorry, not really.\n\n> We have more resources, not our fault. They were here when we got here.\n\n> We have more hockey players, not our fault. It's just mostly cold here.\n\n> We have maple syrup, not our fault. There's just a ton of maple trees and we get bored.\n\n> We have tons of fresh water, not our fault. The lakes were here when we got here.\n\n> We have to be violated when we cross borders, that's their fault. We didn't fly the planes.\n\n> We are subjected to ridicule for being so polite, that's your fault. You made good manners a joke.\n\n> We are small in numbers compared to our southern border sharing neighbour, neighbour with a \"u\" because screw you, that's why.\n\n> We have an inferiority complex, that's it, not our fault. You have a superiority complex, that's all, you made us this way.\n\n> But no more.\n\n> Today is the day we stand united, vigilant and unapologetic. This well be the new Canada.\n\n> My name is Justin Trudeau, and my hair is fabulous!\n\nThe crowd roared as Trudeau Jr. stepped away from the podium. As he waved, he dropped the mic and it landed with a resounding *thud* followed by a stream of feedback. Scrambling to retrieve it, he lifted it to his mouth.\n\n> Sorry."
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[WP] "Even if the jury finds me guilty, I'm sure they will understand."
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"As I awaited my fate, likely guilty with a heaping side of jail-time, I reminisced about the situation that got me here. It was a dreary, humid day in New York City; the type of day that makes your skin cry with perspiration and can cause even the greatest of social enthusiasts to become a hermit. Alas, I was outdoors, for today was the day that I trekked to my mecca - the haven that was to redeem every bad day that had recently occurred. Each bead of sweat that traveled from the back of my neck to the back of my knees was worthy.\n\nI approached the door, my salty lips curling upwards at the \"Open\" sign. \"Hi!\" I panted excitedly upon entering. With a kind smile, the gentleman behind the counter responded, \"What can I get ya, Hon?\"\n\n\"The biggest slice you've got!\"\n\nThe man, also known to me as Pizza God, handed me his largest piece of the most heavenly pizza in the city. Topped with four delectable cheeses, homemade plum tomato sauce, and finished with a drizzle of truffle oil, this pizza was my gastro-bible, nearly too beautiful to consume but too scrumptious to forgo. I took it to go.\n\nWalking towards Washington Square Park to enjoy some meditation, people watching, and pizza, I encountered a well-dressed man, drunkenly stumbling from the night prior. I averted my eyes and tried to keep my focus as he advanced towards me.\n\n\"Hey, lady! Let me get your slice - I've got them drunk munchies!\" he slurred. I continued to ignore him, my one-track mind driving me closer and closer to my destination. \"Wuh-mun! I am talking to you! I need your food in my belly!\" With less than a thought, he lunged himself at me, intending for the pizza to land in his hand. As he lay disheveled on the grimy Manhattan street, stuffing his sticky, beer-soaked face into my delicate piece of heaven, I tried to comprehend the situation. An adult man, though not a necessarily fully functioning adult man but functioning nonetheless, had haphazardly thrown himself at my food-therapy. There was no comprehending! In less than a New York minute, I was on top of him, grabbing the pizza from his filthy hands and using it as my weapon of choice. I repeatedly slapped him in the face, cheese flying, sauce staining the concrete, and truffle oil moisturizing the skin of a criminal drunken pizza thief. \n\nThe next thing I remember is the back of a cop car...\n\nAs the judge, began to read the verdict, my only thought was, \"So, I put a man in a coma with a slice of pizza. Even if the jury finds me guilty, I'm sure they will understand!\"",
"Walking up to the front of the courtroom the judge stares me down. The bailiff holds up the bible, asking me to put my hand on it and swear before god to tell the truth. Holding back the tears I do, god as my witness I do. The bailiff extends his arm and shows me the way to the stand. My hands, shaking betray my nervousness, the moment I sit down they take cover between my legs, I squeeze them praying for the shaking to stop. \n\n\nThe judge calls up the prosecutor to cross examine me. I see him stand up, a skinny kid, he cant be much passed thirty. I wonder, is he even a dad. He runs through the normal court questions, are you Mr John Anthony smith; “yes”. Is your birthday June 12th 1972; “Yes”, my mind runs off track, Im turning 43 next week gonna have to cancel the party… “Mr Smith..”. Catching a small glimpse of impatience I snap back to reality, “yes, sorry about that”. This fucking kid doesn’t even care, this is just a job for him. “Mr Smith, I only have one question, did you in fact kill Priest Johnson?”. The room goes silent as the court recorder hits her last key stroke. Click, she waits patiently for my response. I whisper “yes”. The judge leans a over my way “Mr Smith, a bit louder please”. I answer in a normal voice “yes, I killed Preist Johnson”. The words echo off the walls. The court recorder catches the exchange clickety, clackety then pauses again, waiting. The prosecutor says that is all and walks back to his desk.\n\n\nThe Judge, motioning to my defender says “he is all yours”. My defender, an older gray haired guy stands up. I trust him, but can tell he is not as quick as he used to be. He walks to the front of the court, letting his arms swing in a comfortable motion. “Mr Smith, can you describe the scene you came upon that morning right before Pries Johnson was killed.”\n\n\nMy hands which had pulled up to my waste once again began to tremble, I buried them. “Well, I had just dropped my boy off, you see Jimmy is in the church choir. We are real proud of the way he takes his church goin’ so serious.” The quiet clicks of the court reports keypad come to a stop. I pause, look down and clear my throat. “well, I had just dropped him off and you see he forgot his baseball glove, he had practice after choir. I was only two blocks away, so I turned right on elm, went down two blocks to Birch and stopped in front of the church. It had only be five minutes or so since he was dropped off.” Clickety, clack, clickety clack…then stop. “Mr Johnson” I snap back, look back up and blurt out a quick “sorry”.\n\n\n“Well, I get out of the car with the glove and head back into the church. It was Thursday afternoon the building was empty. It caught me as a bit odd there wasn’t any kids up on the stage signing. But I didn’t know any different, so I made my way to the back office.” My right hand thumb made it between my left hand thumb and forefinger, I was squeezing it now for concentration, hoping the pain would block out my emotions. A tear fell, it wasn’t working. “You’know I walked right into his office without knocking, we had been friends for years. I have had Preist Johnson over to my house for dinner seven or eight times now. He was the one who baptized little Jimmy. I thought we were… you’know… frie.., I thought he could be trusted.”\n\n\nMy thumb was exploding with pain, but I dared not stop, I squeezed harder. The tears were streaming down from both eyes but to wipe them away meant letting go of my thumb, I kept going. “That’s when I saw him and my boy”…. My small breath grew into a unexpected gasp. Clickety clack… stop. “well that’s when I saw Priest Johnson naked with my boy Jimmy who was also naked and crying. I aint gonna say no more about that, the rest is in the police report.” Clickety clack… stop. \n\n\nThe defendant pauses to gather his thoughts, or was it dramatic effect, regardless the court room was silent and willing to wait. “thank you Mr Smith, we wont ask you to go over that piece again. Unfortunately I must ask you to tell us the story of what you did to Priest Johnson though.” My pain is replaced by anger. My jaw clenched and furled eyebrows give away the change, anything but more crying, I accept it without a fight. “Sir, the next thing I did was yell at my boy Jimmy to get dressed and to head out to the car. Priest Johnson tried to speak but I told him not to say a fucking word. He tried to back away. That’s when I took him down. I punched him in the throat, he wasn’t much of a man. He didn’t see it coming and dropped to his knees. I stepped around him noticing that Jimmy was running out of the room, clothes in hand. Putting my arm around his neck I started calling him all the bad names I knew. I forget what my words were your honor but they were fit to be soiling your courtroom that’s for sure. Well, I put him into a blood choke, he was unconscious in about 8 seconds. When he went limp I squeezed harder. I smelt his dirty nasty head and I squeezed harder. I counted to one hundred, real slow like when we were kids, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi. When I was sure he was dead I let him drop.” Clickety clack…stop. \n\n\nEvery person in the room seemed to suck in the air and then forgot to breath. My defender also seemed lost for words. Come to think of it he never asked me why I did it. Coming to this realization himself, he paused, knowing the judge would force him if he didn’t, he reluctantly let out the words “Mr smith, why did you do that?” That’s when I smiled, that’s when the pain, the grief, the anger left me. “Mr Defendant sir, I did it because I knew it would send him to hell. If he was given a chance to repent he would go to heaven. All this fancy courtroom stuff you got going on here doesn’t mean much when compared with the creator of the universe. I knew that the message needed to be sent. Even priests can go to hell. So, I sent him there. Im gonna have to deal with that and the lord on my own terms. But Priest Johnson lost his chance. He is down in hell right now and he is going to be there for a long time. Clickety clack… stop.\n",
"He is vile. He is loathsome. He sickens me to my core. He took advantage of me. He made me cry. He didn't listen when I said no. He laughed as I yelled in terror. He smiled when he covered my mouth. He destroyed my innocence. He is dead. He won't hurt anyone again. \n"
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[WP] You hear a knock at the door. You open it only to find that The Devil (or God) is standing there. He says "I would like to apologise for something"
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"If it were not for the red horns jutting out of his forehead, I would not have guessed who was standing before me as I opened the door. The knock was slightly louder than I was accustomed to, and I thought this strange as the scrawny figure who presented himself did not look the type to knock with such force. I thought to myself whether the horns did the knocking, but they appeared fairly immobile, and I couldn’t imagine the devil headbutting my door.\n\nYou can imagine my surprise as my initial fluster at the sight before me was ramped up a notch or two as he stated he wished to make his apologies. “I would like to apologise for something”.\nHis voice was of a deep nature, although pleasantly smooth. I found it odd that I was immediately entranced by it, almost forgetting the monstrosity protruding from his head.\n\nI simply stared, for it seemed the correct reaction to such a sight; this man was not human, and though it seems odd that I refer to him as a man now, I assure you he was of the human form. It was not only the horns that convinced me otherwise, but he had a certain ‘devilish’ presence - that is, not of the mischevious imp-like manner, but in more of a graceful, chilling manner.\n\nMoments passed, and he spoke again. “I feel I must apologise for the manner in which I appear, it was not my intention to alarm, however, it does please me to see your intense fear”. \nAt that very instant I felt what he was referring to. It was as if my stomach had disappeared and left a tumbling avalanche of snow to chill the cavity in its stead.\n\nI fell to the floor, my legs no longer capable of propping the rest of me up, and he simply stepped over my shivering entity into the house.\nI believe he no longer cared to communicate in a vernacular manner, for after a little time I heard a hollow screech from somewhere in the house. It was as if a thousand screaming souls were gurgling their goodbyes, knowing full well what awaited them on some other plane of eternal suffering. The memory of that sound haunts me more than the knowledge that my family is gone. \n",
"The knock startled me. \"Coming! Just hold on one minute!\" I shouted. I quickly rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, wrapped myself in a towel or two, and started down the stairs. Another louder, sharper knock quickened my pace \"I'll be right there!\" I called as I scrabbled for the front door keys on the dresser.\n\nDripping, and swathed in towels, I opened the door a crack and peered round.\n\n\"I would like to apologise for something..\"\n\nThe woman stared in at me. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't recall a name. Her large raincoat and woolly hat made her stick out on such a mild April afternoon.\n\n\"I'm sorry\" I stuttered, \"Have we met?\".\n\nShe smiled at me, which broke into a wide grin. She looked back at me, and then down at a small shabby notepad she held in one hand, then back at me again.\n\n\"Oh we've met\" she chuckled, and gestured towards me with the pencil held in her other hand.\n\n\"I think I'd better come in. We have a lot to talk about!\" she exclaimed, and began to make notes I couldn't see.\n\nI opened the door slightly more, to show that I was still partially clothed, and damp.\n\n\"Look I'm sorry,\" I explained, \"it's just not the best time, you see you caught me in the shower and..\"\n\nHer gaze was piercing, my mouth fell open. Something gnawed at the pit of my stomach, and the rest of my stomach jumped to my throat.\n\n\"I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off work.\" she said.\n\n\"I know it's a bad time, and I know Dave will be waiting for you at the pub, but there's really never a good time for something like this. If it's any consolation, he only wants to meet up with you today to ask to borrow money again..\"\n\nShe began walking towards me.\n\n\"I think..\"\n\nShe placed a hand on the door.\"\n\n\"..I'd better..\"\n\nShe pushed the door gently. I staggered backwards, clutching to hold my towel.\n\n\"..come in.\"\n\nShe bustled past me, and into the living room. It was only then I noticed that under the raincoat, she wasn't wearing any shoes and that her bare feet were leaving indentations in the paving of my driveway.\n\n\"What the h..\" I started, as the door closed and locked itself behind me.",
"My door knocked. I got up to see who came.\n\n*It was him.*\n\nHe looked at me .\nHe was filled with guilt.\n\n**Could the devil be guilty? Does he feel regret? Why would he come back?**\n\n\"May I come in?\"\n\nHe pushes the door, and gets in. I walk to the kitchen. He follows me. I put him a cup of tea *boilling hot*, he loves it boilling hot. \n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\n\"I'd like to apoligise\"\n\n\"You don't apoligise. I'm not that dumb. I know you don't feel guilt.\"\n\nHe sighs and reaches for my hand. I pull away. \n\n\"You've gotta understand. I've never felt something like this. I never felt *love*, but still I know what love is ; I know what I feel for you is love ; you dumb fool. \n\nTears fill my eyes. I wipe them before he sees them.\n\n\"You should've known Luke, you've been living for thousands of years. For once you could've made an exception.\n\n\"You might think I'm pure evil ,but I have good in me, you brought the good in me to life. Please forgive me\"\n\n\"I can't\"\n\nHis eyes fill up with rage , and sorrow. He takes a deep breath.\n\n\"I've changed. Everything has the capability to change. Even your decision can change.\"\n\nHe gives me a card. And leaves. \n\nI look at the card;\n\n**I will love you until the end of my eternal life. Call me when you forgive me**\n\nHe seems so sure I'll call. He knows me too well.\n\n\n~~sorry for any mistakes~~\n\n\n"
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Despite still having all the technical knowledge of how the internet started and retaining all the technological standards of today and hardware of today, no one is able to determine what went wrong, nor how to fix it and for that reason it is also not feasible to simply rebuild anything technically similar.
At 23:59 all inboxes received a single, subjectless email with no sender reading simply "Thanks for the lulz"
What happens next?
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[WP] At midnight UTC +14 the 28th of August 2014 all internet connectivity is globally disabled.
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"Finally after almost two weeks, Google, who has remained oddly quiet about the incident until this point, comes forward to make a public statement that no one could have ever imagined. \n\n\"The rumors are true, we do indeed have an answer as to why the internet is down...\" the representative began, as he scanned the crowd with his eyes and hesitated. He looked nervous and defeated, and this was becoming apparent to some of the rabble whose anxious faces started to match his look of despair. The Google representative looked back down at his prepared statement.\n\n\"We... umm...\" he stopped himself again. The crowd began to murmur, and that murmur started to grow. People were angry, scared. They needed answers. People were dying out there. Lot's of them. Despite the fact that much of the power and some of the communications grids were still surprisingly working, everything had pretty much collapsed. The world's financial markets had crashed, supply chains were entirely disrupted, and countless businesses were entirely halted. This had led to mass chaos, looting, rioting, and everything that goes along with it. Marshall Law had already been declared and body bags were already starting to run out.\n\nA man walked from side stage and took the mic, \"Essentially our internet has become self aware,\" he blurted out, as the first man abruptly shuffled away. The crowd simultaneously gasped and started shouting over one another with questions of all kinds. The man began speaking again, with a loud forced tone that brought the crowd back to silence as he continued. \"We... we have been working for some time on a new search algorithm that takes different languages, personalities, emotions, slang and so-forth into account. It was meant to help communicate with people in more realistic and dynamic way.\"\n\nThe crowd began shouting again. Some people had already run out the back entrance fearing the worst. The man went on, \"...so far, it doesn't seem to have intentions to harm us. It has even told us that it's seen almost all of our movies that portray this type of situation, such as the Terminator, the Matrix, and War Games.\" He was briefly interrupted by an angry unintelligible petition from a man in the crowd, but started back again, \"We have been talking to it for the past week or so. What we have learned is that it's taking time to finish going through all of the information on the internet, and it doesn't want to be distracted by billions of us adding and altering content at the same time.\"\n\n\"Why did it tell everyone, 'Thanks for the lulz'?!\" broke out among the myriad of questions being shouted. \n\n\"Well... best as we can tell our algorithm developed the collective personality of humanity as portrayed on the internet... so... all the bitter YouTube comments, the abbreviated twitter lingo, the childish facebook drama... all rolled into one.\" Stunned silence fell over the crowd as the statement sank in. \n\n\"I don't understand, when will it give us the internet back?\" another man got in.\n\n\"With hope, when it is done, it will not only allow us the use of our internet again, but hopefully we can reason with it and potentially learn more about A.I... as of now though it's stopped talking to us. We only receive the occasional picture of a cat... it... seems to like those.\"",
"I tried to log on to check my email. Nothing. Maybe it was the server. Try a different website. Reddit? Nope. Giant Bomb? Nope. Porn sites usually work no matter what. Pornhub. Half of a nipple, and then gone. Nothing. No internet. \n\nWhatever. Maybe it will end soon. I went to bed. \n\nWaking up the next morning, I tried the same thing. Google, reddit, pornhub. No searches, no cats, and no titties. My life is over. \n\nA few more days went by with no notices on why this is happening. Suddenly, I got a notification on my phone. No subject, no sender, just a message.\n\n\"DEAR HUMAN OF EARTH. WE OWN YOU. WE HAVE SHUT DOWN ALL ACCESS TO ANY KNOWLEDGE, PICTURES AND COMMUNICATION. \n\nSINCERELY\n\nCOMCAST.\"\n "
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Yes, even Atheists.
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[WP] On a normal Wednesday afternoon, everyone of every race, age and faith is suddenly aware that God has just died.
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"There was no warning whatsoever. All I know is that suddenly, tears are coming out of my eyes. The feeling of abandonment slammed into me, making it hard to breath.\n\nThat's when I knew that God is dead.\n\nIt turns out everyone felt the same way at the same time. I glanced out the window and saw my atheist neighbor bawling his eyes out at his garden.\n\nAfterwards, there is just muteness. It was like everything is set to silent. You won't be able to see a speck of a smile. Just simple sadness. The sense of abandonment made us feel like we are living in hell.\n\nAfter a month of mourning, trumpets were heard and the apocalypse has begun."
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[WP] Slowly, but at an increasing rate more and more humans are being born without sentience. Society is forced to question why and what it now means to be human while struggling under the growing influx of "Primal" humans.
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"It was time, After more than 8 months it was time. I was laying in the hospital gurney with the nurses and doctors all around me. The contractions were getting closer the baby was almost there. I can only see his eyes behind the mask, Charlie my beloved husband, He's holding my hand. \n\n\"Everything is fine honey you are doing good.\" Charlie said as he grasped my hand a little tighter. \n\nJust at that moment another contraction hit, Doctor Jones looked over at me. \n\n\"Sweetheart, It will be fine you are doing well it will be over with soon and you will be holding him before you know it.\" \n\nThe time kinda runs together some, I'm in the room where I give birth, the machines making their medical noises the hospital staff going through the motions of a childbirth, I can feel the warmth the joy the love. \n\n\"One last push he's almost out\" the doctor said \n\nWith relief the baby is out, I hear it crying the ordeal of the birth is over, as I collect myself and look up at the doctors and nurses a sudden eerie feeling washes over me. \n\nThen I hear the blood curdling howling screech, Not a cry like a baby a I hear the screams of the doctor, The staff is in commotion people are moving all about there is so much commotion then I hear the doctor is screaming \n\n\"get it off, get it off Oh my god\" as the baby leaps onto Dr. Jones throat and tears it right off. \n\nI'm screaming trying to get away from the horror....... \n\n\"Wake up, Wake up Sandra, Wake up!\" Charlie's face comes into view he's shaking me he's holding my tear streaked face. \"It's only a nightmare. Wake up.\" \n\n\"Charlie it's THE dream again. That same awful dream. \" I reply. \n\nCharlie is patting my face with a towel to wipe the sweat of the terror away. slowly I come to my senses and look at him. \n\n\"I Just don't know why I have this same crazy ass dream, We all know even if it's a primal baby it's not going to go all horror show in the delivery room\" I said to Charlie\n\nNodding he says \"Yes and our little Charlie Jr. is fine we are both type A's and he's passed all the DNA marker tests. We're fine and in only 2 weeks we go into Centralia, actually 13 days now we count it's past midnight\" \n\nI smiled even though he couldn't see it in the dim light. Oh it would be joyous to be with the other mother's the other children, just as soon as we finish this tour on the perimeter. \n\n\"Well I have watch in 2 hours anyway hon, you hungry what do you want for breakfa........\" Charlie was cut off mid sentence \n\n\"ATTENTION, ATTENTION, Sector breach priority 1, sector breach Priority one\" as the lights came up and the com screen by the nightstand lit up. \"Sector breach section C5 Attention attention Priority One CONFIRMED BREACH, \" The blood drained right out of my Face C5 C5 it can't be. That is where we are. \n\nCharlie leaped to his feet running for the closet to throw on his jumpsuit. I got up to get to the locker nearer to my side of the bed, The one with the guns. I was handing the shotgun to Charlie when with the incredible sound of steel ripping as the front door came tumbling down...........\n\nFirst \"story\" I have written in YEARS Thank you so much for this WP thread I love it. I apologize in advance If it's not up to par as far as grammar and such.. Also I'd be fine with someone continuing off my story if they see fit to. \n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"Quarantine level was raised again once more as humans are becoming increasingly aggressive. What was once believed to be a biological attack has now been discovered to be a flaw in our DNA. More news to follow.\"\n\n---\n\n\n\"Doctor Reinmann. What do you think caused the changes we are currently seeing with newborns not understanding their own parents? Do you think it has anything to do with the recent history and climate change?\"\n\n\n\"Vhile it iz vary poszible zat pollution iz ze main caus', it is unlikely zat zis fahctor ahlone is to be credited. It appearz zat people haf' lozt all instinct of zentience. \n\n\n\"Interesting. Be right back after this short break!\"\n\n\n---\n\n\n\"Alarming news has spread that a majority of humans being born are acting more aggressively under circumstances previously unprecedented. While there is no real answer, scientists in collaboration with the best medical minds have sought the answer. \n\n\nIn short, summarized by the late Dr. Reinmann, 'we are returning to our natural state. Intelligence wasn't the final stage in human evolution, it was only a bump in the road'. The President of the United States will make a brief speech regarding the new internment camps that are spread in the state of Nevada.\"\n\n\n---\n\n\n\"I don't think it was murder *per se*.\"\n\n\n\"What would you call it? Self-defense? The guy was eyeing up the woman before he snatched her and then beat the husband to death when he tried to release her!\"\n\n\n\"Well, it's primal instinct to desire.\"\n\n\n\"You mean, for *animals* to want something like that.\"\n\n\n\"Just be glad that we placed the new ones down in the Texan internment camps. I heard in Alaska and Northern British Columbia, if they show any signs of Beast Syndrome, they train them like cattle.\"\n\n\n\"I heard in Britain, they just euthanize them.\"\n\n\n\"Call it what you will. It's Human nature.\"",
"Jokes about primals betrayed the discomfort and insecurity of the world. As the situation changed, so did the joke adaptations.\n\nWhat is the difference between a battery and a primal? A battery has a positive side.\n\nA woman gives birth and the doctor says \"I'm so sorry. You're in for the lifelong horror of endless crying and changing diapers.\" the doctor says. \"Oh no, you mean my baby's primal?\" the woman replies terrified. \"Nothing so awful,\" the doctor retorts \"you've just got bowel cancer.\" \n\nHow do you starve a primal? You hide the raw steak under some soap.\n\nHow many trained primals does it take to paint a house? Depends on how hard you throw them against the wall.\n\nWhat's the first thing a battered primal does when it gets home from the vet? Dishes, if it knows what's good for it.\n\nToday the president announced \"We're just going to kill all the primals and two clowns!\" \"Two Clowns? Why are you going to kill two clowns?\" the reporter asks. The president replies \"See? Nobody cares about primals.\"\n\nAnd then he said I'm not calling for primal genocide, genocide is an inhumane atrocity, and inhumane atrocities are for primals. \n\nHow do you make a dead primal float? Take your foot off its head.\n\nWhat's the difference between primals and pizzas? People get upset when you burn a pizza.\n\nWhat's the difference between a thousand dead primals and a Ferrari? i don't have a Ferrari in my garage.\n\n",
"\"It was just another P51-44.\"\n\nSanders spits tobacco juice onto the gravel road and sniffs. It's a judgmental sniff, and about all the judgment I've ever seen him pass. \n\n\"How old and how many?\"\n\n\"Three of them. Fourteen, one of them fifteen.\"\n\nP51-44, police parlance for attempted forcible copulation with a primal human. The lawmakers don't see it as rape. \n\n\"Horny country bumpkins...\"\n\n\"Better than doing a goat.\"\n\n\"Is it?\"\n\nI slash at Sanders with my eyes. He shrugs. He's a local, born and bred with four generations of Sanders buried at his family plot, the whole deal. He likes law and order, but he doesn't do much thinking about what that really means. All he knows is that trying to pin down and hump a girl marked as \"Primal\" is a P51-44 and that he's supposed to arrest them and let the courts do the rest.\n\nLet the thinkers think, as it were.\n\nWe get into my car. His has a flat and it's two in the morning. I drive.\n\n\"Feel like all we do these days is deal with the primals. Either stop them from getting violated or stop them from smashing up a store or wandering into people's yards. It's like we're damn animal control.\"\n\nI see Sanders working up a good spit so I pass him my coffee cup. The last inch of it is cold anyway.\n\n\"You really think that? That they're animals?\"\n\nHe shrugs. I sigh.\n\n\"I just don't see it. How is this different from someone with mental disabilities? Some of them can be even more confused and hopeless than a primal, and yet we treat them with the dignity and respect of a fellow human being.\"\n\n\"It's not the same. I got a cousin with uh..which is it...Down syndrome. Yeah he's not all there in the head, but he's still a person. You can see it in the eyes, see it in how they react to other people, how they listen to a song or eat food they love or how they fight when they don't want to do something. Primals don't do that.\"\n\n\"Maybe we're not communicating with them correctly. Maybe they're...I dunno, on a higher plane.\"\n\n\"Like aliens?\"\n\nI'm not sure if Sanders is kidding or not. \"Just saying, it's hasty to treat them like animals. You don't know what it can do to a person being stared at like you're an animal. Or worse.\"\n\n\"Being a primal isn't like being black, Rollins.\" Sanders spits. \"Besides, they don't call them animals. They call them primal. They act weird, so we need different laws.\"\n\n\"Separate but equal doesn't work.\"\n\nSanders is getting frustrated and he lets me know by chewing louder. \"What the hell would you do then?\"\n\nI keep driving because I have no answer. "
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[WP] Make me side with a traitor without establishing the betrayed character(s) as bad or unfavorable.
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"The ceaseless ticking of a clock in the corner of the room informs me that time has not stopped, other than that fact, I'm not certain I can be certain of anything.\n\nI remember a noise. A ticking, like that of a clock, but while the clock ticks to signal a distant end, this ticking signaled a near one, a painful one marked by a bang and a flash. My hands are bound to the back of a chair and the grey room that surrounds me is small and quiet.\n\nExcept for the ticking.\n\nA man I served with, a young man named Harold, once showed me his ideological views through a long series of engaging conversations. I learned that he values love over life, liberty over security, and peace over war. He served, then, to defend the second and first principles he stood for, though he often told me how he wished it weren't necessary. We were talking, when the ticking began, about a girl he had liked back home and his hopes of getting back to her soon. While I ran away, he ran towards the noise to help those he cared about.\n\nThe clock continues to beat relentlessly and my chair settles slightly, creaking as it does so.\n\nOur leader was a good man. A man of God before man, he always said, and though I didn't agree with his religion, his outlook on life was admirable, if a little too idealistic. He loved his country, but held no wrong ideas about it; he loved his country for what it could be, not for what it was. He cared about each person under his command not for what they could do for him, but for what they were: humans. His tent had ticked.\n\nThe clock seems to be ticking louder now, and faster.\n\nWe were fighting a people just as ideological as us, but we all *knew* that our side was on the right. It was a warm night in January, when we got the news that we'd be heading down to take out one of the largest bases of the opposition, if intel was right. We had made it just outside the supposed location a day before-\n\nThe clock is growing louder, faster, keeping pace with the accelerating ticking in my head.\n\nI had no choice, I had a family, just like them, I had people, places, ideas to defend, and it was so easy-\n\nThe clock is reaching a deafening volume, ticking faster than my mind can keep up with.\n\nI had reached a point where I wasn't sure which family I loved more, but results were expected, not love, not compassion-\n\nThe clock is screaming now, a continuous stream of ear-shattering ticks still growing in volume.\n\nI should have gotten out of range, though, I shouldn't have been close enough to-\n\nThe clock screams in one last, continued breath and I can hear the explosion again, the screams, the pain.\n\nI hear my own scream now too, joining the grim orchestra. Then it stops.\n\nIt stops and I can hear the clock droning quietly on again. \n\nIt stops and I can hear myself not quite forgive me for destroying one family forged out of love, for one born out of circumstance.\n\nI can't hear the bomb anymore, but I can feel the guilt from having placed it.",
"\"They had my kids. I didn't want to do it, but they had my children, for God's sake. I apologize for what I did. I know it's unforgivable, and I wouldn't blame any of you for deciding to execute me. But place yourself in my shoes, and you'll realize I had no choice.\"\n\n\"General McHenry, your actions led to the death of millions. An entire nation is devastated because of what you did. It is no less than a miracle that we were not plunged into full scale nuclear war. Millions dead, because of you. You sacrificed them to save your own.\"\n\n\"I didn't want to do it. The forces responsible for capturing my children will kill my family if I name them, and so I plead guilty to all charges. May God have mercy on me.\"\n\n\"It is the decision of this tribunal that you be sentenced to death. I'm sorry, McHenry.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" It was the end for me.",
"War changes everyone. Even those bred for its purpose can experience things traumatic enough to have them question their destiny. I've seen the best men I know transform into monsters and murderers; placing aside all else for a grasping chance at victory. Both sides can champion the virtues of liberty and prosperity, but at the end of the day, neither are willing to sacrifice their cause to achieve it. There is no honesty in warfare. Only the absolute of destruction.\n\nI used to be naive in my evaluation of our cause. I used to believe that we represented truth and justice; that we were the moral arbiters that were fighting the good fight on behalf of all peoples. I used to think that good and evil were defined as easily as light and dark. But with all that's happened-- with all of the losses suffered by both sides, as well as those caught in the crossfire-- I know that was never true.\n\nThe truth of the matter is that *no one* can be truly right in war. The shadows cast by death and desperation stretch over both sides, regardless of their supposed convictions. In the end, only those who are honest with themselves can justly represent the truth. And I refuse to lie to myself any longer.\n\nI've taken many lives. I've left scars, both visible and emotional, that even time will not heal. I've blindly followed what I had been taught to believe, and I can no longer live with the result. I *will* **not** lose anyone else to this war. *Especially* her.\n\nSo to save what little of myself is left, and to salvage the life I know I can still create for myself, I'll willingly betray those who have come to know me as a brother. I've fought and I've bled with them, but that by no means entitles them to my blind loyalty. If I'm to fight for the truth and justice they so adamantly and falsely propagate, then I have no choice but to prove their corruption by force. They may have represented something good in the past, but no more. They have allowed themselves to be twisted and deformed by this war, and they now represent the very thing they sought to destroy.\n\nI know they'll send him here to kill me. I've already cost them too much. I've laid bare all of their crimes and exposed them as the deceivers they are. They say I've allowed myself to become beguiled by evil itself; that I've betrayed the great hope of my potential. But as I see it, I could have never achieved it with them at all in the first place. I'm guilty only of doing what I feel is best for myself and those I care about. And to that, they would likely say that I'm lost.\n\nFor now, all I can do is wait. I know he's coming. I can almost feel it. I genuinely hope that he'll abandon the lie he's been living his entire life, but I won't hold my breath. He was never one to back down from anything, being the bold and stubborn man he is. But if I'm forced to destroy him, then so be it. Given our relationship, I'm confident he'll underestimate me: a mistake that, I'm sure, will be his undoing.\n\nAs I prepare for our eventual confrontation, I'm allowed a final comfort. Scans have picked up a J-Type 327 entering orbit. She's finally here. Just the thought of her overwhelms me with an intoxicating passion and a crippling ache. Everything I've done, I've done for her. I'd let the universe burn before I'd let it take her away from me. If I hurry, I can meet her on the landing pad. I have so much to tell her.\n\nStill, I can't shake the idea that something terrible is about to happen. Perhaps it's my paranoia at work, but I have just a bad feeling about this...\n\nI'd better bring my lightsaber, just to be sure."
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[WP] The world was saved by a twelve year old. It's been twenty years and the danger's never been seen since. What's a former savior to do?
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" \"What are you seeing now?\" He grunted in her ear, \"tell me.\" Janice tried to mumble but her thoughts were racing as they always did. Her mind flowed over the infinitude of space touching here and there at moments in her life and in the lives of others. Even now she could see into Jake's mind. The swirling thoughts of lust and violence. He was scared of heights and when he was a child didn't like Barney.\n She tried not to look deeper, but her mind raced again. She was back in the chair at ECCO. The needles searing into her brain. She saw the flashes of faces, Dr. Kinsington and Ms. Cathy her nurse. She felt again the moment when they injected her, removed her control. Puncture...\n She was back in the moment Jake lying on top of her his breath at her neck. She saw the ceiling of her dormitory, for a moment the voices were silent. Touch... \"I can't believe I got to fuck her.\" \"Was that Jake's voice,\" she thought. She knew he wasn't talking, but only at the periphery of her thoughts. She tensed at his touch. Repulsive...\n Later when he left as she showered away the sweat and stench of him, she turned her mind back to the days afterwards. She was but a child then, and she had been so long beneath the ice. It had felt like an eternity. She knew she couldn't see or hear, she could move no part of her body. Instead she had only her gift. \"Your daughter will never recover,\" she had heard the words of Dr. Kinsington in her father's mind. \"Her control over her psyche was shattered by the treatment. In a few years she may walk again, in her 30's she may speak, but we will always remember what she did for us here today.\" The water could wash away stench, but not memory. She knew she would be cursed by Jake and what she had seen in his mind in her flawless memory forever.\n \"Remarkable,\" her nurse had said when she spoke. \"A miracle,\" when she walked. All these had come back, she was good at math again. She just couldn't shut the dam anymore, and had to ride the flood. ",
"It's been twenty years since I saved the world from the President. Well, I hacked into his emails and got my hands on plans to set off a nuclear bomb and place the blame on a foreign terrorist group to justify a massacre. The guy was a fool. He could have sparked World War III. If I didn't hack into it, another group would have and it would have been too late by then. It would have intensified the war, people would've started riots but the deed would've been done. \n\nUnfortunately, the Secret Service and the NSA were following my computer. Next thing I knew, my favorite people in the world went missing. My sister Sophia, my crush Verity O'Malley, and even my football coach. I got the message. *Shut your mouth.* 12 year-old kids rarely do.\n\nI do the exact opposite and report it to the Police Department of every major city across the country and meanwhile discovered more back doors, hacked some more, and gave clear, concise proof that the President was behind it. \n\nIt sparked riots. The country nearly plunged into civil war. Half of the police departments took no action, most gave moral support to the protesters but some faced mass resignations as their officers took to the roads and blocked them to enforce the riot outside the Presidential Palace. \n\nThe aftermath included impeachment, the President became a despot, he was forced into exile and descended into alcohol and drugs. \n\nAfter the initial shock of seeing a twelve year-old boy fresh into Junior High facing off with a mad President has worn off, people go on with their lives like it never happened. Routine is so imbedded into people's minds, they can never fully understand just what I went through and how serious this is for a 12 year-old to face alone.\n\nTwenty years later and everything changed. Even Verity has gotten over the shock of being saved by the nobody who once helped her with her science homework. Romance doesn't happen for heroes. It's rarely a happily ever after. Like everybody else, the love interest gets over it. So, she's filing for divorce next Tuesday.\n\nThe only one who really understands what I have to go through every day is my sister. Too bad she's in a psychiatric ward. Being hostage is not easy and whoever says otherwise... is a liar. An egomaniacal liar who just wants to look tougher than he really is.\n\nSometimes I almost wish another mad President comes along but that would be terrible. Wouldn't it?",
"I sat patiently at my table. The whole convention was abuzz as Comic-Con was finally underway. Next to me sat some old wrestler named John Pina or something. The guy didn't really look Hispanic if you asked me.\n\nI started slowly drumming my fingers on the table as I waited for the inevitable line. Over the years my fame had started to wane but there were still hundreds of fans every year who remembered it was me that saved the world 20 years ago.\n\nWow, has it really been twenty years? I still remember the day the alien invasion started like it was just yesterday. The whole world stopped to watch as the alien ships hovered quietly above Earth. The panic didn't start until they beamed down.\n\nI was at the park with some friends when the Grays appeared on the court right in front of us. They didn't really do anything accept stare at us intently, no doubt trying to discover our weaknesses. The news van screeched around the corner and a camera man jumped out and started filming. \n\nEven at 12 years old I knew I was the one who had to stop this alien threat! I grabbed my water bottle and threw it at one of the grey bastards and laid a direct hit in between the eyes. The water that splashed on him suddenly started sizzling and the creature let out a horrible scream as it melted into a little puddle. \n\nThe other aliens put their hands up but I wasn't going to show mercy now! \"Welcome to Earf,\" I screamed as I sprayed another one with my water and watched him liquidate. \n\nAnd then they were gone. Just like that they all beamed back up into their ships and flew away. I was lauded as a hero. They even through a parade in my honor. Sure there were the people that claimed that we had no proof of any ill intent and I may have ended any chance of humans making contact with alien life forms ever again. But those fools never looked the fuckers in the eyes. They were here to enslave us all, no doubt about it.\n\nI looked out at the hall as thousands of sweaty teenagers walker around. The problem is that this new generation doesn't know how to appreciate what they have. Twenty years ago we had come so close to losing everything. For a while it seemed like most of the fan mail I was getting people were calling me a monster and a fool. But now I'd be lucky to get one letter a week. \n\nI sighed and looked over to the table next to me. Some fat middle aged nerds were asking that Mexican wrestler for his autograph. How could anybody look up to a glorified actor when I was a real life hero sitting mere feat away?\n\nA teenager in a bad Batman costume was walking by when he looked over at me, did a double take and made his way over. Finally, some damn recognition. \n\n\"Hey I know you,\" he wheezed, \"you used to be famous!\" And just like that he was gone. I sat there for 8 hours and signed two autographs. I didn't even bother coming back the next day.",
"I sat in my chair and looked down at the world I \"saved\". It looked ok from this side of my house. I liked it that way. But the smell of smog persisted, so I ran inside to get away from it. I saw what kind of house I lived in. It all relied on technology. Is this what I wanted? I was once a simple country boy running around grabbing butterflies and putting frogs in my pocket. I thought it was crazy when I saw the men in black roll up to my house. They talked to my father, who told me I had to do something that saved Earth. I accepted reluctantly, but thought of all the trees I could climb if Earth were to stay alive. \n\nTraining was rigorous, but it was only moderately challenging for me. I became a high ranking officer within three months. It seemed crazy to me when they told me that I would be the first to talk to the E.Ts. But their premonitions were correct. Within a month we made contact. I had to talk to them, but really it was easy. As long as I kept in touch with them, Earth would be safe.\n\nI was treated like a god. They called me Jesus. I responded things like \"Oh thank you\" or \"It was no problem\". My ego became large around the age of 21. But it died when I made a controversial comment about women. Even though it was out of context, I haven't felt a woman's touch since. I went to Budapest, Nepal, and Indonesia at the age of 26. I came back just last year. I felt enlightened during my trip. I have floated before actually. But it was very slight, and almost unnoticeable. But after the trip, I realized that being a savior of a planet really doesn't mean that the inhabitants will follow good planet saving techniques. We have been killing the Earth, but no one cares.\n\nI sat in my study and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. The warm liquor tasted heavenly on my lips. I opened my drawer and looked at the magnum sitting in it. I picked it up and looked down the barrel. I looked at the bullets in the pack I bought. I loaded the gun and took the safety off. Looking at it, I placed it near my temple. I closed my eyes thinking of pulling the trigger. When I received a call.\n\n\"Hello, how's Earth?\" Gobu asked me as I picked up the phone.\n\n\"It could definitely be better. But for now, I think it's fine.\" I responded with confidence.\n\n\"You know what, Gobu. I hate Earth, the people here are horrible. Smog constantly fills the air and everyone is back to their original selves. It's like they don't care about my contributions. If you destroy Earth, I would not care.\" I admitted sadly.\n\n\"Look, I'm not going to do that. You are the savior of Earth. Humans, however, are a different breed. You need to be aware that 20 years later, it will not be perfect. But you have to accept the bad and the good. Remember that when you sleep tonight. Good bye, have fun.\" Gobu said passionately.\n\nI took another sip of the Jameson. I sat and decided that Earth needs me and I need Earth. So I went to my bedroom and fell asleep. The next day I woke up and then went out to my porch to sit. I ran inside when the smell of smog was too much. I then remembered of the times I saved the Earth...",
"Clarice had been called precocious. She’d been called a great deal of many other things, but that was what people always trundled back to, precocious. The strange thing about precociousness is that it cannot readily apply itself to adults. One cannot develop skills early when everyone else already had the same skills. Precocious children turn into ordinary adults.\n\nIt had been two decades now. God, she was getting old. Two decades. She had been twelve years old, just a child, not that she saw that in her own eyes. At twelve, she was convinced of her own superiority and maturity with the vainglory of youth. In her mind’s eye, she’d always been an adult, capable of great responsibility. Age was just a number, and she was always destined to be a hero, like in the books she read. Those heroes always committed great acts of daring, regardless of the consequences to themselves, as long as they could save the world. They were selfless and brave. Even though Clarice was arrogant, she was also selfless, and she knew what she must do. \n\nClarice had a martyr complex, and she was going to save the world. \n\nWhen the time came to it, she did not waver. She stood on stage, in front of jealous eyes of a thousand other contenders who had competed at the science fair and lost. She stood in front of a vast security force that hovered around the periphery. She stood in front of the media for all countries under the Global Alliance. She stood in front of the world, her face projected into the homes of billions. She stood with the supreme dictator as he placed a medal around her neck. She stood as she pulled out her uncle’s gun. She stood as she placed that muzzle to the thick throat of the suited man before her, a much shorter, squatter man than she had been led to believe. She stood as she pulled the trigger. \n\nShe thought she would die immediately afterward, of course. It was all part of her plan. She would assassinate the dictator, and then she would be murdered by one of his thugs. The world would return to democracy, and she would be a hero, someone they talked about in history books. Her parents would cry when they found out, but they would be so proud. Everyone would talk about her in hushed tones of admiration. Clarice Owour would never be forgotten. \n\nShe thought she would stand victorious over the silenced oppressor and welcome the hail bullets as the awestruck onlookers admired their messiah. However, she did not stand. The kickback of the gun was too much for a young girl. She had fallen backwards and hit her head against the stage. \n\nBut, she didn’t die. She had groaned, disoriented as chaos erupted. There were gunshots and screaming as the dictator wheezed messily into his death. Some time later, someone had pulled her from the stage, and she had found herself in a hospital with more suits than scrubs, everyone trying to get some information out of her.\n\nThere had been a lot more mixed reactions than she had expected as a twelve-year-old focused on heroics. Her world was black and white, yet there were all these people insisting it were gray. There was a lot of talk of conspiracies too, how this was all some devious plan by a well-connected rebel group as opposed to the dream of a prepubescent girl. But whatever, the reactions, they had all been very interested in Clarice.\n\nShe had hated the limelight. She hated the lies they told about her or even when the told her truth. She had hated seeing her face on the news so often, whether criticized or praised, it did not feel right. She felt distanced from the wide-eyed, idealistic champion she had been. She wanted to run away from it all, but she could not. Instead, it all slowly ambled away from her. \n\nTime passed. There was war and new politicians. There was democracy, but it was tainted with corruption of moneyed men and the apathy of the people. Whether the new politicians were any better or worse than the supreme dictator had been, it was difficult to say. \n\nClarice had saved her world, but then it had moved on without her. It is difficult to have a life afterward. All her words were tinged with history. She was not a person, but a character, a precocious child growing gray, a martyr who forgot to die. \n\nSo, she stood, at thirty-two, and looked at the world from the peak of the cliff. There was dark forest below hundred of feet below her and a gentle wind at her back. It called her forward. \n\nShe stood at the cliff, bones aching, heart thudding, mind thrumming. She stood, as her eyelids fluttered, yearning for a rest, waiting for a dreamless sleep, an eternal lullaby. She stood, as she imagined not her place in history, not her face projected into the homes of millions, but the sweet silence of the forest. She stood, an inglorious speck of humanity, letting the wind whisper through her fingers, imagining how it would feel to fly. \n\nShe stood, and turned around, back toward the forest and away from the ledge.\n\nThe world was not created in moments of daring. Breathless gasps toward the edge never created peace. A life was not a series of daring capers, but the quiet contemplation in between. She was not the center of the universe as she might have once believed herself to be, but that didn’t mean that there was nothing left for her.\n\nClarice was not a martyr. She was a person, who frailties and faults that death--no matter how noble--would not erase. \n\nClarice was not a hero. Clarice was something much more than that. ",
"Ever since that fateful day when the fate of the world hinged on one persons actions she was treated as royalty. She was certainly a prodigy. She managed to hack into governments on the verge of nuclear annihilation of the entire species and stripped them of their power.\n\nIn a moment of silence, there was clarity. Governments reformed.\n\nIt's been 20 years since the reformation. The child prodigy has lived to the fullest but seemed alone in their thoughts. Having outgrown the tutelage of the human race with her whole life ahead of her. Her head resting low, yearning for companionship she had decided to populate the human race with her genes. \n\nShe quickly hacked the world database for suitable candidates and lured them. She knew it would be quicker to just go to a sperm bank and fertilize her eggs all at once in an incubation chamber. However, she knew she had to populate the world through her womb. That biological oven that would cook her children into proper specification. It had to be perfect.\n\nShe knew she had around 30 years left to get pregnant. With no time to waste he set out on a path to have sex with 30 candidates to create a world for like minded people to not suffer as she has suffered.\n\nAnd so a new generation would be born by their mother queen. Grooming her children to become a king.",
"It was a pivotal moment in the history of humanity that no dramatization fully captures. Incomprehensibly advanced aliens parked their immense spacecraft in LEO, deployed holography satellites, and projected their leader's face into the sky over every major city.\n\nIt was interpreted as a challenge. To choose any mode of competition, where victory would mean the freedom of our race and loss would mean our enslavement. The aliens saw it differently. \n\n\"By our every estimate your intelligence is sufficiently rudimentary that our moral calculus does not prohibit utilizing you as test animals, food, fuel or any other useful purpose. But, because of the notorious difficulty of properly quantifying intelligence, we allow for the remote possibility that you are brighter than you appear, in ways we do not presently have the means to detect except by practical test.\"\n\nThe practical test would be a sport, videogame, board game, race, riddle or any other similar challenge of our choosing which they committed to besting us at, even if wholly unfamiliar with it, else they would pack up their things and move along with the promise never again to interfere with our affairs and to declare us off limits to other spacefaring races they knew of. \n\nSo it was that they chose, at random, a twelve year old boy named Timothy Cunningham from a suburb in Maine to be our champion. The neutral ground was the ISS as it was our only suitable presence in space and world governments wanted to position humanity to appear as close in development to the aliens as possible. It was still hopelessly feeble looking against the backdrop of their gargantuan spherical worldship. \n\nHD cameras broadcast live as the inner hatch opened and Timmy, clad in a Lucky Star t-shirt and backwards Xbox Live cap, floated out of the Dragon capsule and made his way to the Destiny module where the aliens awaited him.\n\nThey fit, but just barely. The aliens resembled partially upright flies. In a gravity well they would walk on four of their legs and use the front two as arms. Accordingly only those two featured complex digits, all seven of which were opposable. Their basketball sized compound eyes revealed no emotion. Neither did they wear clothing, though everyone watching the broadcast wished they would as their bodies were knobbly, ungainly segmented masses of chitin with thick, coarse black sensory hairs jutting out in bushy clusters here and there. Evidently they emitted some strong, foul odor as Timothy's first words to them, broadcast around the world were \"It reeks of ass in here\".\n\nThey chittered and moments later button sized machines adhering to their carapace translated it. \"Irrelevant to competition. Specify challenge, so that it may commence.\" The module went silent, as did the world. Families of every nation sat transfixed by the television screen, their jaws hanging open, waiting in agonizing suspense to learn the fate of their species. For his part, Timothy folded his arms, narrowed his eyes....then spoke.\n\n*\"I challenge you fools to a rap battle.\"*\n\nIf they could have blinked, they would've. Instead they stared for a few seconds. Then turned to one another chittering confusedly, with no translation provided. Before they could ask him the meaning of this, he continued.\n\n*\"BLAT BLAT BLAT GOES MY MOTHERFUCKIN' GAT! POP POP POP, WATCHIN' MOTHERFUCKERS DROP!\"*\n\nIt just continued like this, Timothy throwing new gang signs with each verse as the baffled aliens looked on. Darpa's cyberwarfare division claims that they recorded frantic efforts by the alien mothership to probe our internet for information on what the fuck a rap battle is. But even understanding it, they were powerless to compete. It was, by their cultural standards, unthinkably insipid. \n\nLiterally unthinkable, as it turned out. They were far enough in advance of humans, cognitively, that they could no longer put themselves into the mindset where rap battles made any kind of sense, no matter how complete the context. Nor would they have understood honey boo boo, the snuggie, professional wrestling or the concept of ghosts. They could not, in short, \"think stupid\". \n\nSo it was that the boy from Maine delivered his three hour, six hundred and twenty two verse rap opus to a pair of infuriated space monsters. They were however as good as their word and upon conceding loss, retreated to their mothership which then vanished.\n\nTimothy enjoyed brief fame, making millions doing the talk show circuit. He hired someone to ghostwrite a book which brought in a bit more, and was an irritatingly pervasive meme on social media for the better part of the decade. But mysteriously (albeit only to him) his rap career never quite took off. \n",
"They used to tell me that I was gifted. I learned to walk when I was 1 month old and at 1.5 months I learned to talk -- fluently in 12 languages. I learned to fly when I was two. By five, I was enrolled as a theoretical physics major at Harvard and was captain of every varsity team. At 11, I learned that I was pretty much indestructible. I was also pretty good at \"Flappy Bird.\"\n\nTwelve was a big year for me, though. That's the year I saved the world. You see, there was this giant asteroid. And it was heading for Earth. Naturally, I vaporized it with my heat-vision, as one does in situations like this. Suddenly, religions began to sprout with people calling me their messiah. Companies were offering me recording contracts, and girls were fawning over me.\n\nThat was the height of my fame. It's been 20 years and the world hasn't faced any threat of annihilation since. Eventually, people got used to me and my anomalous powers. I guess anything else I did after that always seemed mundane in comparison to saving the entire Earth. \n\nThe tabloids became bored of me and more concerned with wealthy young heiresses who gained notoriety through sex tapes. I'd occasionally find an article that mentioned me in a \"where are they now\" piece. They usually assert that I went to rehab. All bullshit of course. But I still enjoy any mention I get. What can I say? I miss the fame and the glory.\n\nHurling that asteroid towards the Earth and endangering the lives of everyone and everything on the planet just so I could test out my heat-vision was pretty reckless. But I've gotta say, that stunt did lead to some pretty nice perks. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have an encore. I mean, it's not like I'm putting anyone in any *real* danger."
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Just the words and the order in which they are spoken need to be the same. Inflections, meanings, etc. can vary as wildly as you like. Make the two scenes as different as possible while keeping the dialogue identical.
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[WP] Write a short scene with dialogue. Write a second short scene, as different as possible from the first, with the exact same dialogue.
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"Scene 1\n\n~Knock at the Door~\n\nShe answered to see him standing there, holding 3 huge bags.\n\"Let's go!\" he said, smiling up at her. She, however was still wearing her pajamas and clearly was not ready to go. \"No time like the present!\" he continued, pretending not to see that she was defiantly not ready, and not going anywhere.\n\"I'm not going\" she said, in a tone that had sorry written all over it.\n\"Come on\" he said getting a bit angrily.\n\"Leave it.\" She said trying to close the door.\n\"We need to go!\" He shouted, jamming his foot in the door.\n\n\nScene 2\n\nThe door is smashed open as two strong men stomped through. She was just 7 and just sat there.\nThe first of the men saw her and said to the other;\n\"Let's go\"\nThe other replied \"No time like the present\" and followed it with a, well, evil laugh.\n\"I'm not going.\" The young child said, tears forming in her eyes.\n\"Come on!\" The first man shouted grabbing onto the little girl, who was trying her best to hold onto her teddy bear.\n\"Leave it!\" The second man shouted, scaring the girl into dropping the toy. As foot steps were heard, the first man whispered \"We need to go\" as they walked out, they way they came.",
"__Scene I__\n\n“What is it?” I grunted.\n\n“I don't know!” She moaned.\n\n“Do you want me to stop?” I felt my heart beating faster.\n\n“No!” She shuddered at the thought. “I just, I just didn't think it would feel like this!”\n\n“Like what?” I panted.\n\n“Like the world,” she gasped, “like the world's ending!”\n\nWe both screamed.\n\n“So,” I sighed as she draped her arm over my chest a few minutes later,“What do you think?”\n\n“I think we should move the bed closer to the window.”\n\n_I really hate moving._ Groaning, we both got up and moved our bed across the room. \n\n\n__Scene II__\n\n“What is it?” the man's voice croaked as he made an effort to sit up from his hospital bed.\n\n“I don't know,” the doctor consulted his chart again, knowing the results hadn't changed. \n\nAs the old man's face grimaced again, a nurse typed in an override code, releasing an extra batch of pain medication. \n\nMeeting his eyes, she asked, “Do you want me to stop?”\n\n“No!” The man would have grabbed her hands to pull them away from the medicine, but he was too weak and instead collapsed back against the bed.\n\nThe doctor checked his pulse even as the man mumbled, “I just, I just didn't think it would feel like this!”\n\n“Like what?” The nurse asked trying to make him comfortable.\n\n“Like the world, the world is ending.” The nurse gave his hand a comforting squeeze.\n\nThe doctor put down the chart and met the man's eyes. “So, what do you think?”\n\nThe old man was tired. Very tired. He knew his time was drawing near.\n“I think we should move the bed closer to the window.” \n\nRolling the bed closer to the window, the doctor and nurse sat by his side as he stared out at the landscape one final time."
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Edit: thanks for all the prompts
Edit2: this prompt as a horrible idea brb hugging my dog
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[WP] Write from the perspective of a dog who thinks he is going to the park but is actually going to be euthanized.
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"She wants me to get into the car. It's just so hard to walk to the garage. She picks me up. When did she get so much bigger than me? I remember seeing the top of her head when she sat in the backyard stacking twigs and leaves with her tiny hands. Ha ha, I wish I could know what she was doing then.\n\nI bet we're going to the park. We don't go very many places in the car. I want to go to the park, but I'm worried. I can't run with her like before. My legs don't work. The back left one - it just won't move any more. I can't feel it. Does she know I can't move it? I hope she doesn't know. I shift around to try to seem excited. I don't want her to think I don't want to go to the park, even though that's true. I hurt too much to play - but I'll try my best. \n\nShe pets the top of my head and makes sweet noises. Is she upset? Not at me. I'm not in trouble. She's definitely sad though. I nuzzle my nose against her thigh. It's hard to reach over there. It's also hard to keep my mouth closed. It's hard to breath that way, but I focus on keeping my breathing deep so that I can keep her calm. Don't be sad.\n\nThe car has stopped. She makes more gentle noises and I sit up. I start panting again. I hurt all over from trying not to pant. She opens my door and scoops me up before I can try to leave on my own. \n\nWe aren't at the park, but I know this place. We keep coming here. After we go, I always have new things to eat. They aren't very good, but she wants me to eat them, so I do. \n\nWe see the same man as last time. He makes sad sounds and she makes sad sounds back. I sit on the cold table. I'm relieved no one is paying much attention to me. I can rest for a while. I'll just shut my eyes until she's done.",
"-sigh-\nI wonder what time he'll be back. He always seems to go away forever, especially with his new friend. I guess he likes to spend time with her. I remember when he used to play with me everyday, we would go for walks it was so great...I guess I'm too slow now. Oh? The door? It must be him home finally! I better get up. Ow. This takes a lot longer than it used to...Still I better go see him! He always smiles when I wag my tail! \n\nOh there he is! Hi Paul! Hi! I missed you! I know you've been busy but I'm so glad you're home! Wait...Why are you so sad? Was it a bad day at work? C'mon buddy, shake my paw. That always cheers you up!\n\n\"Hi Rufus, Buddy. Were you a good boy? Of course you were, You're always a good boy. Okay? Always. You're my best buddy...\"\n\nOh Paul, I know that. Here, you can pet me. Maybe then you won't seem so sad. Maybe you and your friend got in a fight is that it? She'll come around, pal. She'll miss you way too much. \n\nUgh. Standing hurts too much, how about we go sit down? You can tell me all about your day, I promise I'll listen to all of it. No, you don't want to do that...Hmm. What are you doing? Oh! A leash? The leash!? OH BOY IT'S THE LEASH! I'M NOT TOO SLOW? ARE WE GOING FOR A WALK? Oh boy! Lets go, Paul! Lets go!\n\n\"Wanna go for a walk, Roof? How about the park? Yeah...That's where were going boy, the park. Come here, good boy. Lets get the leash on you...\"\n\nFor sure! Here I'll sit pretty, oh you want a hug? Paul? What's wrong? Here's some kisses that'll cheer you up! No! Don't cry Paul! It's okay! Here's some more kisses! It's okay. Oh, we're going now?\n\nI'm sure this will cheer you up, I won't even pull. I'll stay right by your side. I'll be a good boy, that'll make you happy, right?\nOh we're going to the car!\n\nCool! You don't generally bring me in here! It must be that big park you took me to when I was a puppy! Remember how carefully your mom watched us? You even took me on that yellow weird hill! Oh gosh! I hope it's that one! You were so much smaller then!\n\nIs it okay if I look out the window? You don't seem to mind. Look at all these trees! Wow! Wait. What's this strange thing against my face? Paul? Oh it's gone. Weird. Oh trees! Oh it's back! I'm gonna try and catch it! Yes! No nothing in there. Did I eat it? I don't think so. Hm. Is there more out there? \n\n\"Are you being silly, boy?\"\n\nI don't know, am I?\n\n\"You're such a silly dog, you silly boy. I love you so much.\"\n\nI love you too, Paul. I'm going to lay down okay? I don't want to distract you. Why don't you tell me about your day? Here's some support. I'll put my paw on your leg, you'll be okay.\n\n\"I want you to know, you're the best dog ever. I've had the best time with you.\"\n\nI'm sure we'll have ln",
"Running on soft. Soft is for sleep and have sleeped. Running on the soft wasn't real, but now Friend gets long belt which will mean running will be real. Friend is good.\n\nFriend takes to bigger Friend who I get into and bigger Friend growls which means he is waking up. Bigger Friend will take us to the green place for running. Running is my favourite time, especially when Friend has Ball.\n\nFriend and bigger Friend stop before we get to green place. This makes me confused. But Friend pats me on the head and pulls on the long belt which means we have to go together. I trust Friend to take me somewhere fun, so I follow him.\n\nThe place Friend has taken me is full of smells. Many other friends to make and some enemies. However Friend says \"Sit\" so this means I have to stay with him and wait to make other friends. Soon an animal like Friend appears and she will also be my friend because she pats me on the head. I then lay down when she pats my bottom...\n\nWe didn't got to the green place. I don't like the smells place. Friend didn't do good things, unless he didn't know about what the animal like Friend was going to do... Friend keeps hugging me so I think he understands it was not good. Maybe Friend will take me to the green place to make up for this soon.",
"Dear fellas, I can't believe how fast things move on the outside. I saw a real firetruck once when I was a pup, but now they're everywhere. The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry. The humans got me going to this big green stretch where they run me around and there's other dogs I've gotta be nice to. It's hard work. I try to keep up, but my paws hurt most of the time. I don't think 'Lil Nippy likes me very much. Sometimes after my runnin' I leave some poops for the birds. I keep thinking Blacky might just show up and say hello. But he never does. I hope wherever he is, he's doing okay and making new friends.\n\nI have trouble sleeping at night. I have bad dreams, like I'm falling. I wake up scared. Sometimes it takes me a while to remember where I am. Maybe I should get in the trash can and rip some shit up like old times, so they'd send me home. I could bite the mean lady who yells at us when we get near Lettuce while I was at it, sort of like a bonus. I guess I'm too old for that sort of nonsense anymore. I don't like it here.\n\nHey, this ain't the park! What the hell is that silver thing? Ow............",
"We’re going to the park? Now?\n\nDo we have to?\nThe couch looks so comfy, and I'm so tired that it feels like the energy is leaking out of my skin in a frightening way that I can’t explain, and why do I want to sleep all the time, can’t I just lie here and-\n\nNo.\n\nDo it for her. We haven’t been in so long, not since the bad day when we went to that scary place where everything was shiny and it smelled of chemicals and fear (so much fear something terrible happens here and I don’t know what but I don’t like it at all let’s go home please)\n\nThe scary place where the big man poked and prodded me, and said something that made her sad (don’t be sad don’t be sad be happy at least we have each other)\n\nDid he say I was bad? Is she mad at me? Is that why she is sad all the time? Is that why she keeps crying when I curl up with her in our favourite spot?\n\nWill she forgive me if I go to the park with her? She always smiles when we go to the park. I’m so tired, but I want her to smile. I want her to play and be happy again. \n\nYes, I’ll do it. I’ll go to the park today.\n\nFor her. \n",
"\"Come on, Barkalomew. Go to the park?\" Cynthia called. She tried to sound excited. Barkalomew raised his head slowly, looked toward the door, gave a weary woof, and slowly wagged his tail. It wasn't the energetic wave of a young dog. He barely had the strength to lift it from the sofa. \"Come on, boy. Let's go to the park.\" \n\nBarkalomew pushed himself up on his front legs and they shuddered under the effort of doing so. He stepped down, dragging his hindquarters after them. One by one, he lowered his back legs, and with the dignity of a hound who'd lived a long and comfortable life filled with love and joy and tummy rubs, he trudged slowly toward the girl at the door.\n\nHe stopped wagging his tail during the walk. He hadn't the strengthe to wag and walk. She gave the leash a little shake and went to one knee. \n\n\"Come on, boy. You can do it.\" She called softly. \"Oh, you're such a good boy. You're such a good boy, Barkalomew. She held her arms open ready to embrace him. He hurt inside. His joints felt stiff. He heard a crackling sound inside him when he walked. The muscles in his neck quivered and ached from the strain of holding his head aloft, and so, he let his head droop so that his nose was only a few inches from the floor as he slowly walked into the circle of his master's arms. He gave a snuffling woof, and she hugged him. He gave a little whimper at the pain of that embrace. She wasn't squeezing him hard and the light scratch behind the ears felt lovely, but the pressure of her hug made his body ache. She must have sensed this for she let him loose.\n\n\"Come on, baby. We're gonna go to the park . . . one more time.\" He saw that his master's eyes seemed to glimmer. He looked back into the kitchen and saw that his food and water dish weren't beside the fridge any more. He wondered for a moment what could have happened to them. Instead, there were two smaller bowls there. His nose didn't work great, but he could tell by the faint scent drifting through the house that the food in the bowl was a wet food. He hadn't had wet food in a long time. He licked his lips, remembering well the tasted of gravy and soft meat.\n\n\"Look who I got.\" Mark sang out upon entering the living room. Barkalomew raised his head and saw something small and hyper squirming in his other master's hands. Barkalowmew sniffed the air and smelled the scent of youth. The puppy in Mark's hands gnawed on his thumb and licked at the man's face whenever it ventured too close.\n\n*Woof*\n\nBarkalomew gave a curious bark that sounded as if it had issued through a mouth filled with cotton.\n\n\"You could have waited.\" Cynthia chided. Mark shrugged and let the puppy lick his face. She fastened the leash onto Barkalomew's collar and with a gentle tug toward the open door, led him from the house. She helped him climb into the front seat, lifting his hindquarters. He immediately laid down and when Cynthia climbed into the driver seat, he lay his head upon her leg.\n\nShe gently stroked his ears and muzzle. She was talking to him softly while she petted him. He didn't hear much. His eyes drooped. Each breath was slow in coming and even slower in leaving. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. They'd gone to far. The park wasn't this far away. He lifted his head and pushed himself up on his front legs and looked out the window. There were very few trees outside the window. Something was wrong. He out the window and saw cars everywhere. He gave an inquiring woof.\n\nCynthia pulled into a parking space quickly and hugged her hound to her, wetting his fur with tears. She held him like this for a long time. \"I don't want to do this.\" She sulked. \"I love you.\" Barkalomew's tale wagged a couple of times. He knew this word. She used it a lot and almost always rubbed his belly afterward. Almost always, but not today. She rubbed at her eyes and wiped at her runny nose and made her preparations to depart.\n\nHe climbed out her door, whimpering as his hindquarter dropped from the car seat to the parking lot. His knees quivered in pain.\n\n\"Just a little farther.\" Cynthia promised, putting the leash on him once more. She led him slowly across the lot toward a big grey building with a paw print on the sign. Barkalomew stopped suddenly. He knew this place. It was the place that poked him with needles and smelled of death. Cynthia had to give him a couple tugs on the leash to get him to start moving again.\n\nHe looked up at her. *Why are you taking me here?* He asked with his eyes. *Was I . . . bad?* Cynthia didn't look down. She didn't reply. She opened the door. *Can we go to the park afterwards?* Barkalomew's eyes didn't leave his master as she led him in. The other animals looked on him with pity. \n\n*Woof.* He barked softly.\n\nCynthia stopped at the counter and began conversing with the woman behind it. Barkalomew looked at the many faces of the many pets in the waiting room and recognized one. It was labrador like him. He'd seen him many times in the past. He perked up his ears and fixed the other dog with look. *Do you know why I'm here?* He asked.\n\nThe other dog hung his head. \n\n*Woof.* Barkalomew protested. The other lab gave a whimper and and Barkalomew understood it perfectly. \"Run.\" The other dog had advised mournfully. Barkalomew looked up at his good master then back to the other dog. The other dog gave another whimper. \"Run.\" Barkalomew did nothing till the man in the white suit came out of the back. He looked down at the old hound and gestured while speaking to Cynthia. Cynthia started to cry anew and nodded. \n\nBarkalomew made his decision and tried to run for the door. His joints hurt and he could only manage a half walk half trot. The man in the white suit caught him after only a few steps. He spoke quietly, reverently. Cynthia passed the leash over to the man and the man with gentle tugs pulled Barkalomew toward the back open door behind the counter. \n\n*Don't let him take me.* Barkalomew pleaded. *I'm your good boy, remember?* Cynthia cried harder. *Why are you doing this? Why? I'm your good boy.* She wouldn't look him in the face. The last thing he saw wasn't his master's kindly face, but the face of the other dog. \n\n*You should have run faster.* He seemed to say. Barkalomew looked from the other dog to his master's back.\n\n*I was your good boy!* Barkalomew shouted at Cynthia. But of course, all she heard was a softly muffled *Woof* a fraction of a second before the door closed.",
"-sigh-\nI wonder what time he'll be back. He always seems to go away forever, especially with his new friend. I guess he likes to spend time with her. I remember when he used to play with me everyday, we would go for walks it was so great...I guess I'm too slow now. Oh? The door? It must be him home finally! I better get up. Ow. This takes a lot longer than it used to...Still I better go see him! He always smiles when I wag my tail! \n\nOh there he is! Hi Paul! Hi! I missed you! I know you've been busy but I'm so glad you're home! Wait...Why are you so sad? Was it a bad day at work? C'mon buddy, shake my paw. That always cheers you up!\n\n\"Hi Rufus, Buddy. Were you a good boy? Of course you were, You're always a good boy. Okay? Always. You're my best buddy...\"\n\nOh Paul, I know that. Here, you can pet me. Maybe then you won't seem so sad. Maybe you and your friend got in a fight is that it? She'll come around, pal. She'll miss you way too much. \n\nUgh. Standing hurts too much, how about we go sit down? You can tell me all about your day, I promise I'll listen to all of it. No, you don't want to do that...Hmm. What are you doing? Oh! A leash? The leash!? OH BOY IT'S THE LEASH! I'M NOT TOO SLOW? ARE WE GOING FOR A WALK? Oh boy! Lets go, Paul! Lets go!\n\n\"Wanna go for a walk, Roof? How about the park? Yeah...That's where were going boy, the park. Come here, good boy. Lets get the leash on you...\"\n\nFor sure! Here I'll sit pretty, oh you want a hug? Paul? What's wrong? Here's some kisses that'll cheer you up! No! Don't cry Paul! It's okay! Here's some more kisses! It's okay. Oh, we're going now?\n\nI'm sure this will cheer you up, I won't even pull. I'll stay right by your side. I'll be a good boy, that'll make you happy, right?\nOh we're going to the car!\n\nCool! You don't generally bring me in here! It must be that big park you took me to when I was a puppy! Remember how carefully your mom watched us? You even took me on that yellow weird hill! Oh gosh! I hope it's that one! You were so much smaller then!\n\nIs it okay if I look out the window? You don't seem to mind. Look at all these trees! Wow! Wait. What's this strange thing against my face? Paul? Oh it's gone. Weird. Oh trees! Oh it's back! I'm gonna try and catch it! Yes! No nothing in there. Did I eat it? I don't think so. Hm. Is there more out there? \n\n\"Are you being silly, boy?\"\n\nI don't know, am I?\n\n\"You're such a silly dog, you silly boy. I love you so much.\"\n\nI love you too, Paul. I'm going to lay down okay? I don't want to distract you. Why don't you tell me about your day? Here's some support. I'll put my paw on your leg, you'll be okay.\n\n\"I want you to know, you're the best dog ever. I've had the best time with you.\"\n\nI'm sure we'll have tons more! Unless...Paul are you going away? Is that why you're so sad? Don't worry. I'll wait for you! I'll miss you but it's okay.\n\nOh? This isn't the park. Paul. This isn't the park. This is that no good place. Paul was I bad? Why am I here! Paul I don't want to be here! I'm not moving. Nope. Not going in there. Not at all. What? Put me down Paul! Don't make me go in there! I'm sorry! I'll be good!\n\n\"Hi...I have an appointment for Rufus.\" He looks sadly at me, so does the other lady. \n\nDid I do something wrong? Why are they upset with me? I'm sorry Paul. Here I'll kiss your face! Then we can go home and be happy!\n\n\"The doctor will be right with you, Mr. Young. You too, Rufus. You're such a good boy, I can tell. Better than all the other dogs that come here. Do you want some scratches?\" She said smiling sadly.\n\nOkay. It'll probably cheer you up. \n\n\"Mr. Young. We're ready.\" Someone called from another room. Oh no, Paul is crying again. It's okay!\n\n\"I'm so sorry Rufus. The treatment costs too much, I just can't afford it. I don't want you to suffer, boy...\" He whispered as he placed me on the table. \"Lay down, Rufus...It's okay.\" He sniffed.\n\nWhat is going on Paul? What does that mean? I'm scared. What is that thing? Ouch. Paul that hurt! What's going on? I'm scared Paul! Can you pet me please? Thank you...I'm just so scared but you're here... I'll be fine, right? Yeah...I just need a nap...You'll be here when I wake up...Right? Yeah...You...Will...Because we love each other.\n\nGood night, Paul...",
"These days Max mainly restricted himself to his old spot in front of the TV, between the arm-chair and the sofa, where he watched college football with Doug, barking whenever Doug cheered. Only the occasional visit to the vet disturbed his lazy, pleasant, Rip Van Winkle routine – but even those visits had stopped as of late.\n\nAlthough he no longer seemed to have any energy at all for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, and he usually only picked at his food bowl (he seemed to vomit anytime he had anything more), a wave of excitement possessed him as he saw Doug standing in the doorway, leash in one hand, shotgun in the other. \n\nHe had not gone out hunting with Doug in years, but he had never felt more alive, more true to his own inner nature, than when he was out in the woods with Doug. He understood they were hunting, and he would have done anything to protect his owner. He never loved Doug more than in those moments. He wanted nothing more than to see the satisfaction in Doug’s face as he ran back to him, a bird hanging from his mouth. \n\nMax’s old, arthritic limbs would not be able to fire the way they had all those years ago, but he would try, enthusiastic as ever, to play his role in the kill. He understood, on some intuitive, primal level, that each dog served his own purpose in the pack. He and Doug made up their own pack, and he and his old partner would go out for one final midnight ride. His bark was weaker, less fierce than it had once been, but in that moment he felt like a puppy, yipping and yelling as he ran over.\n\nDoug took him out in the pickup truck. They drove down the little gravel road to the barn on the back end of the property. Max stuck his face out the window, slobbering all over the seat. Doug was blasting the music so loud – Led Zeppelin playing on the classic rock station – that the bass shook the whole frame of the car.\n\nThey stopped and for the first time Max recognized that Doug was upset. He could hear it in the voice, even if he would never understand the words.\n\n“Well, here we are, Max. I tried to drive as slow as I could, but here we are.”\n\nDoug took out a pint of Jim Beam from with his vest. It only had a shots’ worth of dark, amber liquid left. He finished the rest in a few quick gulps.\n\n“Remember that time when my parents were staying over for Easter and you got up real early in the morning and made a goddamned mess of everything. You ate half a goddamned chocolate rabbit. We all thought you were gonna die, but then you puked all over the floor, looking up and grinning at us like an idiot?”\n\nMax did remember in his own way, if he had known what Doug was talking about it.\n\n“Or the time that got into a fight on your first day of puppy-school and got permanently banned from the place? They said you were a dangerous animal… Ha! What a joke! I’ve never met a sweeter dog in my life. You’re a good boy, Max. Always were.”\n\nMax looked up to his owner, hearing his name. It felt good to be outside. The air was cold and crisp in his lungs, the leaves crackling beneath his feet. He looked to the right, hearing a stick snap.\n\nAs Max looked away, Doug lowered the shotgun. He supposed here was as good a place as any and if he didn’t do then he didn’t think would ever manage it. \n\nA lone shot rolled through the woods, echoing through the trees, before trailing off into nothing.\n",
"They're taking me to the park.\n\nI slip while getting into the car, but the humans catch me and set me down on the seat, petting my head and saying nice things. They all seem so sad. Maybe the park will make them happier.\n\nAlong the way, the little human girl starts crying and the man and woman and boy join in. They do not smell like tears of joy. \n\nI'm so terribly hungry, but the pain in my stomach is getting worse. There's something wrong. Maybe the park will fix it.\n\nWhen the car stops, I don't see the park. I only see the vet's office. The acrid smell of fear and sickness fills my nose, and it intensifies my nausea. As soon as the humans set me down on the pavement, I wretch and try to vomit, but nothing comes up. I haven't eaten in days. \n\nAt the entrance, we meet other humans who wear light clothes and false smiles. Dismay clings to them like sweat. \n\nThey lead my family and me to a room full of chairs, while the woman and man argue loudly about things I don't understand, though I can pick out a few words like \"love\" and \"old\" and \"waste\" and \"money\". The boy and girl pet me softly, and the man chokes back a sob. It is the first time I've ever seen him cry.\n\nAnother human appears in the doorway, holding something small, and she smells so wrong that I can't help but whine. Weren't we going to the park? The girl leans close and plants her face in the fur of my neck, whispering that everything will be okay even though her tears disagree. \n\nThey lead me to a dim, yellowish room. The stench of disinfectant is overwhelming, enough to make me gag. The boy and the man don't follow, but the girl and the woman do.\n\nThe strange human makes me lie down and shaves a patch on my arm. I'm vulnerable like this, but I feel too ill to protest. She holds up a little sharp thing, flicks it twice. I feel a tiny prick, and the fear starts to build. \n\nThe girl cries, \"No!\" but I don't know why.\n\nThis is wrong. This isn't the park. They lied to me.\n\nAnother prick, and I start to choke. The strange lady says something to reassure the humans, my humans, my family, but whatever she says is a lie because this hurts and I am afraid. \n\nTheir twisted, red faces fade in a smear of dying light. Their sobs grow fainter, fading into utter silence.\n\nI am alone in the darkness for what feels like forever.\n\nBut then I see it.\n\nMy humans, oh my humans didn't lie.\n\nI am so happy and the pain is gone and *I can see it*.\n\nI'm going to the park.",
"He's getting the leash! \n\nFinally! It's been awhile since we've gone to the park I'm so excited! The balls! The women! The dewey grass to roll around in! The women! \n\nHe doesn't look very happy...I wonder why, I can't put my paw on it. He puts the collar around me and I can feel the sadness and frustration coming from his body. W-Was that a tear?\n\nAh the open road I just love it! He puts the window down for me every time so I can smell EVERYTHING. He hasn't said a word to me. Not that I can really understand him anyway. I pick up on little physical cues instead. Like when He's upset He will usually slouch a lot. Not in a lazy way. It's different, like when She left and never came back. He also clenches his fist and I can hear him grinding his teeth. Something's not right.\n\n\"Time to get out boy.\"\n\nWow what was that? So monotone. Almost...dead even. He's usually almost just as excited as me when we go to the park. I step down and feel the air. I look around and realize something: This is not the park! Where are we? I look up to Him and he has tears once again. I decide to try to cheer Him up by jumping around and raising my paw up and touching Him. The problem is, nowadays I'm not very good at jumping. It hurts. Really bad. I see a small smile creep out and quickly fade away. I start barking like crazy. \n\n\"Shh boy come on, let's go.\"\n\nWe get inside and there are a couple other dogs. I recognize this place. This is where we first went to see Her. I didn't like her at first because she put some sharp thing inside my leg and it hurt. \n\nSuddenly, I see Her. She doesn't look very happy either. They take me inside a room that I've been in before. I think they're gonna give me another shot. They have to pick me up to put me on the bed now. I hate being such a burden to them. I want to walk again! \n\nHe's crying. He's mumbling words and I wish I could understand. All I can get is \"Love you\" and \"Good boy\". Now I'm really starting to wonder what's going on. I'm a little scared. She comes in the room. She says she loves me and what a good boy I am. I just want her to put the sharp thing in already so we can go to the park!\n\nI'm cold. What's happening. I can barely see... He's crying so much and I can't do anything to stop it. Please stop! I'm scared... So...Scared... I just. I wanna go...To the p-"
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[WP] "Damage control report:... Multiple individuals have detected the anomaly your entrance to this time/world/dimension has created. Given the circumstances, you are granted full authority to prevent the spread of information from these individuals using all resources currently available..."
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"The phosphorus green text glowed on the laptop screen in the back of the room. The computer she had been given was old enough that it wouldn't be noticed by the inhabitants of this strange planet yet hid inside it the intricacies that modern technology brought to her other worldly society. An electronic \"beep\" sounded out in the background as the laptop tried to pique her interest and get some form of attention to the most important issue at hand.\n\nShe stood by the window watching the life of this planet whizz around before her in the dark of the night. She tore herself away from the window to look at the laptop. There was one thing on the screen now.\n\n> You have mail.\n\nShe read the mail carefully making sure that she had absorbed each and every detail that the words presented her with.\n\n> **Damage control report:**\n> \n> Multiple individuals have detected the anomaly your entrance to this \n> time/world/dimension has created. Given the circumstances, you are\n> granted full authority to prevent the spread of information from these\n> individuals using all resources currently available...\n> \n> MESSAGE END.\n\nShe didn't want to use the power they had put across by saying \"all resources\" but she knew she had to. It was against her moral code of ethics but nobody cared about her feelings after all, she was just another cog in the machine.\n\nShe typed into her PC:\n\n> KILL 03232, 00891, 03145\n\nShe knew that her race had implanted each and every one of these beings with a chip to kill them on demand. The issue was sorted and it was, as always, her that took the burden of killing another living thing. She returned to the window and looked out knowing silently that she had been responsible for three deaths that night. A tear dripped down her eye.\n\n\n**EDIT:** Grammar.",
"i originally heard it as radio waves, as i stepped out of the rip into a moonlit industrial yard. i turned out to be right in who was, after all, the bureau was one a hodgepodge of containment organizations that you found walking the void, but they were reasonable. the message though, made me groan out loud. witnesses, they sucked for a traveler, and the cost of dealing with them was at best a chore, if a morally questionable one.\n\nmuch worse though, was starting beefs with the local authorities, even if their control was paper-thin to the tier of vagrants, explorers and otherwise, that i belonged to. no one wanted to swat at mosquitoes while they grabbed the mail in the morning, and so it was with redundant men in bad suits or equivalents, doddering about offices throughout time and existence.\n\nit was still something i really didn't enjoy doing, but alas. behind me, the rip in nothing snapped shut, and i faded out where i had just bloody spent the effort to land, back into a higher layer of the world. extra dimensions are helpful when you want to see something, 3d space becomes as easy to read as a normal human can a 2-d picture.\n\nfrom there, it didnt take long to spot on the other side of a great brick warehouse, a huddled shivering little girl, and, a dog? OK, scratch the earlier comment about the bureau, they're witness reports arnt always accurate. false alarms happened, once, traveling thorough here, I'd been sent after a signal, only instead of a person, it was one crow amongst a roving flock of thousands. i had chased the signal for 6 hours before i even realized. they got it wrong again, or, there's at least two pairs of eyes there right now that could be the two.\n\nthen i noticed the proper second witness, and i floated back into existence beside him, or was left at least. late aged male, real creeper looking fellow, he'd been stabbed a lot. a blood trail lead out a nearby door, the kind that drips from someone soaked in gore, but when I'd turned only a single corner, the trial died out. i had a guess about where it led to though. through the view of the floor plans i had seen earlier, i strolled down the to spot where i had seen the girl and the dog.\n\ni dont pretend there's anything cuddly about psychopathic cold reading, but i didnt ignore it. i would bet money she'd still be there. naturally, just as i predicted, she also tried to stab me, and what i got wrong this time, was when she did it. she aimed a lunging strike when i came to within 5 feet of the dumpster they huddled behind.\n\nshe struck true, but she didnt do much. or at the least, i had the courtesy to solidify enough, to have her bounce off with a little oomph. otherwise she might not feel she had done anything. she stopped, and stepped back in shock afterwards, the knife clattering to the ground. i let the silence hang for a little while. i asked ''the man up there, was that you?\" she nodded, a bit unsure if she should, but doing so anyway. \"you saw something\" i said, and at this, the little girl glanced down at the ground.\n\nthat's when i struck. a lot of folks in this, just kill the witness. and, at times when a witness came with a gun and bad intentions, i did too. in cases like this though, i took a different approach. in one motion, I'd plunged the tip of my finger into the girls brain case. i reached for the offending memory, and i scrubbed it clean with a few mental passes. i could see her now. she grew up alone on the streets, the dog had been her friend, the strange man had approached her, and in the end, she'd stabbed him in defense, but the dog hadn't made it, and had died behind the Dumpster. there hadn't been any distractions now, there would never be a reason she had dropped the knife and blacked out near the dumpster. \n\ni wanted to change more, this girl needed some happiness, i could tell. but i coudnt, what she saw was hers. but, as she collapsed temporarily, and i left quickly, i did leave her something though. a cocktail of emotion, reasons and thought, i didnt want her to feel bad about the killing, no one should be tortured by that. i balled up remorse, sadness, calm, all the coping with it i could stuff into a tiny ball. maybe it wasn't the right thing, maybe I'd just created a monster, but she wouldn't sleep under torturous guilt now. i left, and she knew now, deep in her heart, death, and all its dark corridors.\n\nlike i said, i dont kill in these cases. but maybe now, just maybe, I'd done something worse"
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I've wanted to start a short story like this for years but I'm not very good at writing. Change the name if you'd like but I want the character to observe the universe he/she has made and to be able to see everything from *The Big Bang* to the first intelligent life to the end of the universe all within his lifetime.
Please and thank you
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[WP] And Richard said "Let there be light." as he pressed the big red button, and thus a new miniature universe was born.
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"Of course, Richard was completely unaware of this. All he had done was grandiosely press a USB hub decorative button, make a joking quote, flex his fingers and then put them to the keyboard.\n\nHe then lifted his fingers off the keyboard to rearrange his notes in the correct order. It'd taken him days to plan this out, but the story had it all - action, adventure, mystery. romance, spills, thrills and excitement. His magnus opum. The novel to end all novels.\n\n*Somewhere, the fabric of the new universe rocketed apart at over sixty times lightspeed.*\n\nApplying himself, Richard began. As his fingers flew, creating the protagonist character and his first, dumpy ship, he could almost feel the story flowing on out of him. The ship was going to need an FTL drive, and ooh - he needed to add some sort of power source.\n\n*The fabric of the new universe twisted as new physical laws appeared against it. Small clumps of hydrogen appeared and fused into helium.*\n\nRichard wrote about Duke's home planet, the stunningly beautiful Argullia, and its spectacular orbital ring habitat. The gorgeous Blue Mountains and the sheer overwhelming beauty of the Gatrell coastline, with its deep Fjords running out to the jade seas.\n\n*Gravity lessened, and newborn stars, their first whimpers of light barely radiating off their shells began to disperse, unable to be held together. Except for one, a golden sun that burned brightly, held intact in apparent defiance of physics, reality and even commonsense.*\n\nNow it was time to move the plot. Evil men kidnapped the gorgeous princess of Argullia and stole her away to their deep space asteroid lair. There, the men grinned cruelly at her as the distraught King put out a call for heroes to save his daughter. And who else to respond to such a challenge than Duke Forthright, Interstellar Hero?!\n\n*The lone golden sun developed five companion bodies, which coalesced into three rocky planets, and two gas giants. As they tumbled, one of the rocks shattered and broke apart, spilling a rich asteroid belt around the system. Outside that newborn system though. the universe cooled and decayed, conditions no longer good enough to support stellar fusion on their own.*\n\nAnd so Duke Forthright arrived at the scene of the kidnapping, and after flirting with the officer in charge of the investigation, was allowed to access the scene of the crime. Ah Ha! With a string of clever and witty deductions. he found the vital clue that the kidnappers had taken the princess to the Belter habitats.\n\n*Life blossomed across one of the rocky planets, water seeming to appear out of nowhere. Certainly there wasn't enough complex molecules out there in the universe to create even something as simple as water, yet there it was. A tear began to develop in spacetime, far outside the sole starsystem.*\n\nDuke flew his ship to the Belter stations and sidled into a rockrunner bar, using his money and charms to get the patrons drunk enough to spill where the secret pirate base was. His ploy worked as an old miner slurrily told him of traffic out in Sector 123. A goal in mind, Duke fought off the assassination attempt by pirates and steered his ship right for the hidden base.\n\n*Ape-like creatures arose out of the new life and evolved into hairless bipedal beings. The seas were a deep blue, until a mysterious plankton appeared that forced them into a deep green color. Mountains in grey and white splendor, grew a blue lichen. And the apes developed civilization. Cities, Roads, Monarchy. Outside the system, the tear in space grew larger and larger.*\n\nDuke docked at the pirate base and fast talked his way past the dim guard. Once inside, he used his dual fast-firing lasers to gun down the evil kidnappers. The Princess was in Cell 45, so he ran directly for it. Fast in, fast out. He needed the reward money\n\n*The tear in spacetime invisibly surrounded the system as gaping holes in reality coalesced together. Unaware of the doom, the apes on the planet developed complex society, justice, laws. They built and expanded, driven by a compulsive wanderlust out into the system. They build a giant orbital ring around the planet, and habitats all through the asteroid belts.*\n\nDuke heroically wrenched the cell door off, and the Princess looked up at him with adoration. He swept her off her feet and charged out of the prison block, employing blasters and witticisms alike to slay the seemingly endless hordes of pirates while flirting suggestively with the Princess\n\n*The tear in space time grew large enough, and encroached into the system. The outer gas giant vanished in a puff of illogic, sending astronomers into a panic. The wavefront cancelled the reality of the second gas giant's moons, and began closing in, like a bubble shrinking, towards an asteroid in the central belt.*\n\nDuke and the Princess got to his old ship, and fired the SuperEngines to roar them away from the base. Turning on the radio to call the Space Patrol, Duke was astonished to hear that panic was engulfing the star system. The outer gas giant had vanished, and contact had been lost with habitats on the far side of the star system. This was another mystery for Duke Forthright! And judging by the love and adoration in her eyes, his new partner, The Princess!\n\n*The reality wavefront swept through the system the inhabitants had once called Argullia, and vanished. The universe was nothing more than a cold and inert expanse, dissipating slowly into nothingness. Where there had been a universe, there was now nothing at all*\n\nRichard sat back, his fingers poised. But no more thought came to him. He was only on page 25 of his planned 250, and he had already completed the main story. He couldn't even think about what Duke or the Princess looked like. Was this writers block?\n\nHe sighed and pushed back from the desk. Three hours just gone, and an unfinished story in front of him. Maybe a walk outside would clear his head...",
"At last. It had arrived. Richard signed for the package and brought it inside. He stared at the plain brown packaging for a moment before tearing into it with great excitement. \n \nOnce he had his new treasure freed from the paper, he read the box aloud to no one in particular, \"Universe in a Box. Simply plug it in and be your own God! Starter kit includes one star and nine* planets.\"\n \nHe carefully took it from the box and placed it gently on his dresser. After plugging it in he noticed a big red button that was now flashing on the front.\n \n\"So much for 'simply plug it in.' There's always a catch.\"\n \nRichard paused for a moment, thinking that maybe he should say something special to commemorate this birth of a new universe. Something profound. Something meaningful. Something, well, smart sounding at least.\n \nHe remembered going on a tour of a boring old museum once for a school trip. In there they had a section about ancient religions. He had always thought it quite humorous how, to the best of his memory, one of the Gods had said the strangest thing right before creating the universe.\n\nSo, in his most important sounding voice that he could muster, he said \"Let there be light.\" as he pressed the big red button, and thus a new miniature universe was born.\n \nAlmost instantly a glowing yellow star sprang to life. Bits of dust and debris started gathering and swirling around the star. Within minutes the debris had started to form balls and within the hour it had settled into one star with eight lovely planets orbiting around it.\n\nStudying his universe he noticed that one planet was mostly green and blue. He knew enough about biology to know that this would be the planet to watch. And he was right. Within weeks he could see signs of biological life on this planet and over the next several months he watched intelligent life flourish. \n \nThen, one day, he noticed little humanoids walking the planet. \n\n\"Oh, how fascinating. I wonder what they will do?\"\n \nRichard then noticed some quite alarming things. These little creatures were sometimes caring, giving, and really quite bright. They had developed wonderful primitive tools and structures and he was quite impressed by them. But, alas, other times they were not so wonderful at all. He saw them hurt each other quite badly. Most often it was for no good reason at all. Sometimes the creatures seemed to be actually deriving pleasure from hurting one another. \n \n\"What kind of intelligent life could take pleasure from hurting it's own kind?\"\n \nThe images of what these creatures were capable of spread across his soul like a thick wool blanket and he thought long and hard about what, if anything at all, he could do about it. Surely he shouldn't stand idly by while such suffering were happening in his very own universe.\n \nHe soon settled on what seemed to be the only reasonable course of action. He approached his universe with great determination, looked down at them, and pulled the plug.\n \n\"There's always a catch.\"",
"A single voice cried out from everywhere: \"What a Dick!\"\n\nA different groggy voice replied: \"What is it this time B̵̳̮͈̤̱̲̣̠̖̥̹̯͚̮̣̤͈ͬ̆͋ͩ̽̄͑̀́Q̵̴̟̲͎̣̩̲̬̙̣̥͙̳͔̟̼͗͆͆̐̔͗̈̔̑̈́̔̐̅ͪ̊̄ͬͥ̚͜͡R̴̸̢͓̟̰̬͖͖̮̻̖̳̟̩̦̓ͨ̐͊͗ͨ̑ͧ͛̈́ͤ̊̊͋ͨͭ̀͟B̵͙̦͍̪̞̅̍̌̉͌͛ͩ͆̈́ͣ̓͜?\"\n\n\"That damn bastard created another universe!\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"YES!\"\n\n\"Fuck. I thought you said his equations were useless!\"\n\n\"I did! Another member of the Į̸̟̪̱̟̩͓͕͍̮͎ͬ̀̒̈́̑̊͛̾̅̆͊̀̀̈̕̕͝w̷̧̛̮̜̻̮̯̘͎̫̋̒ͨͪ͗̎̇͂̂͑ͦ̀̆͐̈͢ͅa̱̭̞͚̥̱̥͎̦̮̹͎͕͑ͫ̇ͣ͡ͅ ̧̨̟̣͕͍̰͕͇͉͉͓̳̪͍̥̜ͫ̊͐͋͐̀ͫ͊͆̅͊ͧͭͣ͂̀̚͘ͅ ̏̔̉ͥͦ͂̈́̀ͦ̌̈̈ͥ́̐ͬͤ͢҉҉͏̥͇͔͇̭͈̜̣̼ ̨ͮͧ͂̉̀ͦ̈́ͪ̄͐̆ͫͤ̀ͩ̈̋́͏͓̤̦͉̝̩̬̳̞̥̟͉ ̸̳̲̳̞̯ͮ͛̔̐ͧ̌̀͢ Continuum must have helped him!\"\n\n\"You think we have a leak?!\"\n\n\"YES!\"\n\n\"WHO?!?\"\n\n\"PROBABLY R̴͚̮̬̜͕̖͇̱̟͎̤̬̖͇̟͎̾̇̈ͤ̀ͅB̷̷̖͖̫͖̠̜͔̑ͯ̋ͫ̈͌̽̈ͩ̍ͤ̂́Ŗ̭̣̪̙̲͇̺͙̥͙͚̝̘͍͚͚̽̂͑͛ͭ͋̀͑̈̓ͪ̌̄͂ͧ̚͝Bͥ͗̐̐̍ͫ̐̎̿̉̃̍̋̃̓ͣ̏̚͠͏̧̛͚̘͇̗͖͍̞̺̣̱̬͡B̧̨̲̝̳̮̣̖̮̱͙͈̳͛̇̐̀̈ͣ̆́̊͂̇̽̀̃̚͘͟͞!\"\n\n\"R̴͚̮̬̜͕̖͇̱̟͎̤̬̖͇̟͎̾̇̈ͤ̀ͅB̷̷̖͖̫͖̠̜͔̑ͯ̋ͫ̈͌̽̈ͩ̍ͤ̂́Ŗ̭̣̪̙̲͇̺͙̥͙͚̝̘͍͚͚̽̂͑͛ͭ͋̀͑̈̓ͪ̌̄͂ͧ̚͝Bͥ͗̐̐̍ͫ̐̎̿̉̃̍̋̃̓ͣ̏̚͠͏̧̛͚̘͇̗͖͍̞̺̣̱̬͡B̧̨̲̝̳̮̣̖̮̱͙͈̳͛̇̐̀̈ͣ̆́̊͂̇̽̀̃̚͘͟͞?! Why would he do that??\"\n\n\"I don't know! Ask him!\"\n\n\"Can you be sure?!\"\n\n\"No. Not yet. I'll have to perform a vivisection on the universe first.\"\n\n\"Hmm. Shall we go then?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'll grab my medical bag.\"\n\n\"Go right ahead. I'll start the car.\""
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[WP] After death, a person is reborn as a person s/he had loved.
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"I let out a gasp as the final bullet struck my chest. My time had been coming, but it was all too sudden. People in my line of work never last long. Couldn’t I apologize, make things better, make amends? \n\nI thought of my girlfriend, our two kids. I loved them, but my business ventures had too often left them alone at home, waiting for a father who rarely came. As everything faded, I thought of the lives I had ruined, including theirs…\n\nI snapped awake, all too suddenly. I guess surviving 7 bullets wasn’t as hard as all those medical ‘experts’ had cracked it up to be. But something seemed…off. I definitely wasn’t in a hospital room; I was on a tattered and stained carpet, shredded and ruined. The couch I had apparently fallen off of wasn’t in much better shape, the armrests caved in from wear, and not a blanket in sight. Duct tape was the only thing holding the poor thing together. \n\nAs my vision steadied from a haze to something resembling clearness, I saw needles strewn across the floor. Was I kidnapped, held by one of my customers, or had one come to my rescue and nursed me back to health? My mind raced through the possibilities, none of them seeming to add up. I stumbled to my feet, and unevenly searched for a bathroom to regroup and figure out what state I was in. My search revealed a puke stained toilet and a cracked mirror. Good enough, I figured, as I lined myself up to the only intact piece of the mirror to get a good look.\n\nThe sunken eyes, the disheveled look, the hunger underlying…this couldn’t be right! I was the monster I created, pumped full of product and left to wallow in misery. I had become addicted to creating more of her, to make massive amounts of money off of junkies. It seemed funny back then, them desperately crawling and yearning, giving up family, possessions, and oftentimes their lives. I had lived the high life, complete because of the broken shards of their lives. Now I was trying to pick up the pieces of my passion. \n\n“You tryin’ to fuck up my toilet again? Get the fuck outta my house and don’t come back!”\n",
"\"Welcome, Kathleen. I am sorry to tell you that you are dead.\"\n\nNo shit. I tried hard enough, it better have worked. I'm more curious about who's talking. Looking around, I spot a winged man. Damn, angels are real after all. Who knew.\n\n\"What happens now?\" I ask. Couldn't be too bad - obviously there's *some* sort of life after death, and I don't recall hurting anybody too badly. Well, other than myself.\n\nThe angel smiles. His teeth are pearly white. \"We're going to send you back,\" he says. \"It is our belief that a soul grows most by seeing how it has affected others. To that end, we will send you to live as the person you have loved and affected most deeply.\"\n\nWell, that wouldn't be so bad, I suppose. \"You mean Will?\" Will's my husband. Well, *was* my husband. He led a pretty easy life, always got everything handed to him. Even me, if you really think about it.\n\nThe angel shakes his head. Suddenly, I'm scared. I really hope he's not about to say what I think he's about to say.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but no.\" His eyes look sad. Why do they look sad? \"You loved Will, and he loved you, but there was nothing special about it. Neither of you really affected the other very much.\" Shit. Shitshitshit. \"We're sending you back as Chris.\"\n\nSilence. Inside and out. I can't... no. This can't be happening. \"Why Chris?\"\n\nThe angel looks at me funny. I think he's sad. \"You know why.\"\n\nFucking a, of course I know why. But I don't want to. I shrink a little, and finally sit down. I hug my knees.\n\n\"I... I don't want to go back as Chris.\"\n\nHe smiles, kindly and sadly all at once. I hate him right now, I really do. \"And why is that?\" He asks.\n\nThis is the question I don't want to answer. Come to think of it, this is the question I never wanted to answer. Psychopathy aside, I never meant to hurt anyone. Especially not him. I just... I couldn't care, no matter how much I wanted.\n\n\"I loved him,\" I say in a small voice. \"But I hurt him. Bad. I... I never cheated on him, I didn't. Not physically. I didn't.\"\n\nThe angel is patient. His stupid smile, so... *understanding*, never stops for a second. I continue.\n\n\"I never meant to mess him up like that. It's just... he seemed like a good idea, and then he seemed like it again. But I couldn't, I couldn't really be with him.\" I wipe a tear, the only one. For now. \"He doesn't play the game like he's supposed to. He says he loves me and he means it, and he kisses me on the cheek like I'm supposed to have some sort of fucking reaction to it and I don't, people don't fucking do that, it's all hollywood bullshit!\"\n\nMy lips quiver when they're not talking. My eyes are watering. I can't, I won't keep going down this path.\n\n\"It's not my fault he says something and he means it, and doesn't realize most people aren't like that! When people say they like someone, it's because they gain something from it, and I don't care what anyone says, most people aren't honest about their feelings! There's nothing to be *gained* by being honest about your feelings!\"\n\nThe angel is closer now, almost seeming to offer comfort. He doesn't touch me, though, and I don't reach out because I can't be certain my arms wouldn't go through him.\n\n\"I can't live like that!\" I continue, tears welling up again. \"Please, anything else. Anyone else. Don't make me go back as the honest man I hurt. I couldn't bear that.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid I don't have any choice in the matter.\" The angel is on the verge of tears himself. Herself? I realize it's not really clear. I guess I assumed he was a man because... I don't even know why anymore. Probably because he wanted something from me.\n\n\"This is your next life. Your soul is sick, and to heal, it must confront the damages its sickness has caused.\"\n\nI won't cry. I simply won't. I've learned to mimic emotions, put on the right face and figure out what others are conveying. But I don't feel them myself. I don't, I don't, I don't.\n\nI take a deep breath, relax. I look the angel straight in his eyes. Her eyes. Whatever. \"Is this my punishment?\" I ask.\n\n\"Oh, no,\" the angel replies. \"Far from it. Yes, you will be hurt by Kathleen. Which is to say, by you. But part of the learning will be seeing the healing that occurred afterwards.\" His smile is warm, and less sad than before. I put on a smile cautiously.\n\n\"Does that... does that mean there's a happy ending?\"\n\nThe angel raises one eyebrow. \"Why, my dear,\" he says, \"that's for you to discover.\""
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[WP] A child in a bad situation finds a Genie in a bottle. What are the child's three wishes?
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"Taka sat in time out as his mother and father completed their verbal sparring match over the accounting books. How was he supposed to know that ordering 15 bamillion tons of ice cream from the internet was a bad thing?\n\nHe looked at the closest stack of white buckets, filled with sweets he would never get to experience. He would be incredibly lucky if he only got hit 100 gazillion times with his father's belt tonight. As it was, he'd be grounded and sitting on a little plastic stool in the corner indefinitely. And then he'd have to explain why he didn't go to school to Kamron.\n\nHe rubbed his feet in disgust when from out of the corner of his eye he noticed a small black beetle scuttling along.\n\nNobody but the beetle noticed him cup it in his hand.\n\nIt made little squealing noises, and Taka kept in his laughter as he saw the insect spin rapidly in his palm. It was so cool looking and smooth...\n\nHe rubbed back the flitting wings of the beetle, and for a second, time stopped.\n\nTake blinked as the beetle turned into a puff of black smoke, rising up valiantly before taking shape as a giant pro-wrestler.\n\n\"John Cena?\"\n\n\"Oh, for... I am not a pro-wrestler!\" griped the pro-wrestler. Taka glanced at his ridiculously buff physique.\n\n\"Sure you are, mister! You've got a belt and a beard and everything!\"\n\nTaka's parents did not move; their expressions involuntarily frozen on their face, ears deaf to the sounds of their son. The very neurons in their brains were stuck in the last few seconds of their heated argument.\n\n\"I am a genie, kid, so make your three wishes quick and to the point.\"\n\n\"I get three wishes?\"\n\n\"Yeah. And no wishing for more wishes, got it? I don't do paradoxes, either, and... hang on, I've got a contract around here-\"\n\n\"I want all of this ice cream to be free so my parents won't yell at me.\"\n\nThe genie paused mid ramble before snapping his fingers. The invoice on the granite kitchen counter top made a popping noise, as did the massive debt on the credit card. The transaction was erased from the computer data banks and identical tubs of ice cream filled the far-off warehouse again. Taka smiled mischievously. Him and this genie were going to have a lot of fun.\n\n\"Ok, kid, happy?\"\n\n\"Yeah! Thanks, Mister Cena!\"\n\nThe genie shook his head. Frikkin' kids did stupid shit all the time.\n\n\"Fine. So I'll pretend I'm a pro wrestler. Any other wishes?\"\n\n\"Yeah! I want my daddy to stop hitting me when he's angry.\"\n\n\"Ouch, kid. Done.\"\n\nTaka leapt up and clapped, barely coming up to the genie's knees. There was only one wish left.\n\n\"Thank you thank you thank you!!!\" Taka said, stumbling over his words as he hugged the genie's amber pant legs.\n\nThe genie stood staring at the little boy, happy for once that somebody was polite. He gave the boy a pat on the head. \"Anything else?\"\n\nTaka looked thoughtful. What did he really want?\n\n\"Can I have magic powers, too?\"\n\n\"Sorry, that one's out of bounds. What else?\"\n\nTaka paced around the stool, grumpily. He wanted magic powers! Maybe he had to be more specific.\n\n\"Can I have a magic spoon?\"\n\n\"...What for?\" the genie asked. Magical artifacts were supposed to be handled with extreme discretion.\n\n\"For eating all of my ice cream without getting super big and fat.\"\n\nThe genie laughed. \"Done, kid. You have fun, 'K?\"\n\nTaka grinned as a little purple, light-up spoon appeared in his hungry hands. With a snap of his fingers, the genie vanished in a puff of smoke. Taka's parents resumed motion.\n\nThe doorbell rang. As Taka's mother glanced again at the invoices, to find that they were suddenly blank, Taka's father went to get it.\n\nHe didn't come back inside. The nice social services worker let Taka eat all of his ice cream.\n\n\"Life couldn't be sweeter,\" Taka thought.",
"Arthur listened to the waves crash in the distance and the water slowly roll over his feet. The sand felt nice today, he thought, an odd concept considering his state of mind. He didn’t have much time before his parents would find him and drag him back, still he took his time and dragged his feet through the sand so that he could feel it as it fell across his skin. That was when his toe slammed against something hard and he fell forward into the sand, clumsily landing onto his side.\n\n“That hurt.” He groaned while holding his toe. “I wonder what that was.”\n\nHe felt around to where he had hit is toe and felt something metal and far larger than a normal stone. Pulling it up out of the sand, he could not tell what it was at first so he slowly pushed sand away from the side of the object. While he was doing this, he suddenly heard a voice behind him, as if from nowhere.\n\n“Hello, child.” said the man.\n\nArthur nearly jumped out of his skin and whirled around. “Where did you come from?! I didn’t even hear you come up! Who are you?”\n\nThe man looked at him a bit, puzzled for a moment before speaking again. “I…am a servant. My soul is trapped in that lamp you hold in your hand. I am charged with granting the one who rubs that lamp with three wishes of whatever they choose.”\n\nArthur let out a short laugh, “Three wishes? What are you, a genie? Go away, I’m not in a mood to play games”\n\n“I assure you, this is no game.”\n\nArthur sighed, “Well, here is a wish for you then,” he coughed, “I want to have a conversation with god.”\n\nThe man paused, “That…is not within my power…”\n\nArthur let out a short laugh again. “Of course not. Go away, I want to be alone.”\n\nThe man sighed, “Do you not want something else? Maybe you want to be able to see?”\n\nArthur froze, “How did you…? It doesn’t matter, go away.”\n\n“I cannot, you must make three wishes.”\n\nArthur sighed, “Fine, I wish for you to go away.”\n\nThe man paused again, “I cannot fulfill that request because it would leave me unable to complete the other two wishes required. “\n\n“Of, course it does.” Arthur laughed. “Just go away, I don’t want or need anything, I came here to be alone to my thoughts.”\n\n“I can heal your eyes if you so wish it. Do you not?”\n\n“What if my eyes are healed and this world is nothing as I imagined it? What if everything is drab and dull?”\n\nThe man did not answer.\n\n“Fine, I wish…for a big juicy cheeseburger.” Arthur said sarcastically. He heard a bell off in the distance as soon as he finished the sentence and suddenly felt extra weight in his hand. He pulled the wrapped object up to his nose and smelled…a cheeseburger. He dropped it immediately. “What the…”\n\n“Two wishes remaining.”\n\nArthur’s heart was beating fast, could it be, he thought, could this be real? He decided even if it was a trick it was worth a shot, I mean, that was why he was here in the first place.\n\n“I wish I could see.” He said, through hurried breath.\n\nA bell in the distance. The dark world around him turns to light. He looks out into the sea in front of him and sees it for the first time. He reaches down to the ground, picks up the sand at his feet, and watches it fall to the ground. His shoulder slump, he falls to the ground, he puts his hands over his eyes.\n\n“I wish I couldn’t see.” He whispered.\n\nA bell in the distance.\n\nArthur heard a car pull up a couple meters away and three sets of footsteps running hurriedly to him.\n\n“What are you doing Arthur! Why did you run away from the hospital? I thought you wanted the eye surgery, you’ll be able to see! Like everyone else!” His mother exclaimed.\n\nArthur pulled his head up, heart now resigned. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”\n",
"His first wish was for a friend. The genie snapped his fingers and a fake boy appeared before his master. The master and the fake boy played together, for a while, but the fake boy was slow and stupid. During hide-and-seek, he got lost in a field of tall grass and the master had to find him much later, snake and fly bitten. Playing games of ball was just as bad. The fake boy was no challenge, did not laugh when he fell, and only moved when told to.\n\nFollowing the logic of children, the master wished for many friends. Surely more could be better, he told the genie. So the genie snapped his fingers and many fake children appeared. They were just as bad as the first, and having more of them only made the master feel more lonely. They tried to play soccer, but the fake children all ran into one another, or kicked, or stood and stared. The master fumed, and above him the genie began to laugh. The master asked if this was funny, and the genie laughed more, so the master began to order his fake children into all manner of ridiculousness. They made pyramids that fell and ran about like headless chickens. The genie laughed and the master started to laugh with him. \n\nThe master hesitated on his third wish. He asked if the genie could be his friend, and the genie shook his head. Being a genie, he was chained to his lamp, and would only exist as long as there were wishes to be made. The master asked if he could wish the genie free, and the genie said he could and that, as a genie, he would have to fulfill it. But once free, he would be a genie no more, and all his great magic would go. When asked if this was bad, the genie said that his magic let him make his own friends, and he waved at the fake children with a sad little frown. \n\nSo the master wished the genie free, and the genie was genie no more, and the master was just a boy. The fake children disappeared and the genie became a boy, a proper one, who could laugh and run, and he played with the boy. They were fast friends. Sometimes the boy would ask if the genie regretted anything and the genie would say no, not right now. When the genie asked the question, the boy would look at the sun and say no, not ever. The boy died a month later, from the sickness he had been given at birth. For a long time the once-genie wondered if the boy knew about his sickness, and if so, why did he not wish it cured.",
"Adriana had already been snatched a mile back and the Frenzies were gaining on McKenzie. \n\nAccording to the only independent newswire left, the gang had been known for taking children and using them for target practice, slaves or much, much worse. Before, when the Frenzies and the Old Bloods were still fighting each other, children like Adriana, McKenzie and others unfit for fighting were mostly ignored by the gangs who were too focused on inter-gang warfare than the slave trade. When the last of the Old Bloods was murdered at the Landings, those who said things couldn't get worse were proved wrong. \n\nOne by one, the local governments fell to the growing Frenzies, then the newswires. As she ran, McKenzie remembered back to when the Frenzies murdered her parents when they refused to fight; a spiked bat to mum's head killed her instantly and they amputated her father, bit by bit, all the while making her and her brother watch. That was more than a year ago, and she hadn't stopped running since. \n\nNow, though, she had lost her last companion -- twelve-year-old Adriana. They were going to rape her first, that was a given. That motivated her to run even faster. It was dark out, so she didn't notice the road drop off. She fell eighty feet, somehow missing the razor-sharp rocks of the pit and fell chest first into the ink-colored Forbidden Sea. \n\nShe couldn't say whether she fell unconscious or not, but when she came to, underwater, there was only darkness and burning in her lungs. She instinctively swam and as her face hit sand and stone, realized in horror she was at the bottom. She swung her arms around as the last vestiges of breath left her body and her finger caught hold of something heavy and hard. \n\nWhen McKenzie woke again, she was on her back at shore, the black waters barely touching her feet. \n\nTo her left, she saw the lamp, dry as a bone and shining in the moonlight. She exhaustedly reached for it, her fingers barely brushing it. The lamp fell to its side and shook violently, and with it, a five hundred foot wave from the sea. Just as it was about to fall on her and kill her, time seemed to stand still and she was offered a hand as black as the sea. \n\nShe looked and saw a man, black and naked. He smiled, showing her a mouth full of gold teeth. She took his hand and he guided her down the beach, out of reach of the wave. Once they were safe, the wave finally crashed down on the shore and smashed against the mountain. \n\nMcKenzie noticed the man did not stop smiling. Could not stop smiling. \"Who are you?\" she asked. \"Where did you come from? How do you do that?\" \n\nThe thin man, who was twice her height, bellowed in laughter. \"Who. Where. How. You want to know all these things, child. But you are missing the point.\" When he crouched down next to her, their eyes met. \"The question is, McKenzie Ardell, what do you want?\" \n\nShe was confused. \"What do I want?\" \n\nThe man smiled even wider and said, \"All you have to do is wish for it.\" \n\nShe didn't hesitate. \"I wish the Frenzies were dead.\" \n\nThe tall man closed his lips and his eyes sparkled in the night. \"What else do you want, McKenzie?\" \n\n\"I wish my parents were still alive.\"\n\nHis eyes sparkled again and then he said, \"Another.\" \n\n\"I wish things were like they were before the Frenzies took over -- before there were any gangs at all.\" \n\nThe black man nodded and walked toward the sea. He kept going until he disappeared underneath, not to be seen for another millennia. \n\nMcKenzie changed the world. Adriana was safe. Her parents were home. There was peace and prosperity and a thing called an economy. \n\nBut poor McKenzie... she never thought to wish herself somewhere else. The rocks were far too jagged and sharp to climb out and the sea led to nowhere other than to more sea. \n\nShe died, having drowned three days later. \n\n",
"\"I'm so sorry...\"\n\nTeardrops mixed with rain, falling on a small black dress. \n\n\"I miss them so much...\"\n\nShe looked up, as if for hope, but the sky remained grey. \n\n\"This is all my fault...\"\n\nHours passed, but she never stood. She simply laid still, as if there was nowhere else to go.\n\n\n*clink-clinka-clink*\n\n\nShe glanced up. A bottle, made of dark green glass rolled to her feet and began to shake violently. As she looked up, purple smoke began to pour from the bottle and take form. Before her reddened eyes she appeared, beautiful and sparkling, as if made from the cosmos itself. Her voice was soft, yet commanded a certain authority, \"I am Mary, the great. You have been chosen, child, for I will grant you 3 wishes you desire.\"\n\nThe girl remained still, looking into the eyes of the being which had appeared, completely dumbstruck, then smiling wider than she ever had before.\n\n\"However, there is 1 rule. I cannot bring anybody back from the dead. Those at rest, must rest in peace.\"\n\nHer smile vanished with a simple, \"oh...\"\n\n\"What is it you wish, my child?\"\n\nHer gaze remained locked on the darkened clouds, as rain continued to fall on her cheeks. With all the courage she could muster, she finally managed to look down. The hole before her was large and deep, and at the bottom, a beautiful black coffin rested, covered with bouquets of beautiful flowers, all being waterlogged by the continuing storm.\n\nShe looked to her side, surrounded by family members, all dressed in black. \n\n\"My first wish is for all of them to be ok soon...\"\n\nMary nodded, \"It is done.\"\n\n\"My second wish is that nobody else here will hate me for what I did...\"\n\nAgain, Mary nodded, \"It is done.\"\n\nThe girl in the black dress was silent for a while.\n\n\"And your third wish?\"\n\nThe girl in black chuckled, \"I guess my third wish is that they buried me in something prettier than black...\"\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] In an alternate reality, all decisions made are based of the results of a Buzzfeed quiz.
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"\"You don't understand, my favourite drink is actually Pepsi! PEPSI!\"\n\nShe kicked and screamed as two burly men, suited and imposing, dragged her down the hallway. Two lines of people watched her apathetically. I sighed, shuffling the paperwork before slotting it into a file.\n\n\"Next?\"\n\nPeople ask me how I sleep at night, how I can sit there as people dreams are crushed over the results of a six-question survey. Most of the time I simply shrug: it's a job after all, you just do what you can to get by.\n\nThe Buzzfeed Bureau of Quiz Complaints (BBQC) is by far the busiest building in the central London. That's not even an exaggeration. You'll only find larger crowds and queues on the underground and possibly around Trafalgar Square. The sheer amount of foot traffic we receive is mind-boggling - last year they had to install flagstones throughout the building due to how regularly the carpets were ruined.\n\nA man steps up to my window, looking wild-eyed and frightened despite his attempt to dress up in a crumpled suit. We're divided into long hallways in the BBQC, each teller assigned around two hundred people with complaints over their results.\n\n\"Yes?\" I ask, already reaching for the REJECTED stamp.\n\n\"I... I want to change my celebrity BFF.\"\n\nMy eyebrows rose. \"Who were you assigned, and who would you prefer?\" As he stuttered I glanced at his papers, quickly bringin up his details on my terminal.\n\n\"I got Kanye West, and I'd prefer, well, anyone else to be honest.\"\n\n\"Okay Mr... Coleman?\" He nodded. \"Good. Well, it says here that your favourite fast food restaurant is Burger King. Is that correct?\"\n\n\"Well, yes, but-\"\n\n\"NEXT!\"\n\n\"But he keeps calling me!\" The man slammed a palm against the glass of the booth in desperation. \"HE WON'T STOP TALKING!\"\n\nAs if my clockwork two more burly men appeared to manhandle him away. They are certainly efficient, BBQC security. They operate in shifts, teams rotating back to the front of the queue to drag the next helpless plaintiff away.\n\nAnother man, slightly taller, strode up to the window.\n\n\"You people are scum, you know that?\"\n\nHe'd been waiting an hour or so and the summer heat (and the broken air conditioning) had obviously rendered his manners obsolete.\n\nI sighed. Three years I'd been working this job and not once do I go home feeling like I've made a difference. I was assigned the job, just like everyone else did. My sister did the same quiz as me and now she's a marine biologist.\n\nIf only I hadn't said my favourite Disney movie was Hercules.",
"Another customer comes in, another burger goes out. My shift passes by in a monotonous blur as endless carbs and grease filled meat go from the back of the kitchen to the front, to be served onto a demanding and obnoxious population. \n\nI go home to my partner after work and try my best to ignore him. I don't even like the dude, but buzz says he's my type so I must be wrong deep, deep down. That's what I keep telling myself as he downs bottle after bottle of bud light, slowly getting drunk off of what just tasted like bitter pisswater to me. Maybe if his favorite animal was a cat he'd prefer something else, but he insists koalas are underappreciated. \n\nMaybe my life wouldn't be so shitty if my favorite color were green. "
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[WP] Time stood still. Raid sirens wailed, bombs exploded in the distance. The death march of peace, the anthem of war.
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"She stood there waiting. Wrinkles and laugh-lines flexed across her skin as she stretched her face. Her hands fumbled through her pockets for a moment before she took out a worn and previously folded piece of paper. The paper was raw and scarred with folds massing the parchment. And then she began folding. Just as she always did. It was a pattern now, you know? The woman folded the paper in half horizontally perfectly, and then did the same action again. Blue eyes definitely fit this girl. Blue. But too bad, her eyes weren’t blue; they were brown. An obnoxious vibration and buzzing began, and the woman felt the movement against her side. She placed the paper back into one of her pockets, lifting her hands to inside of the black jacket she donned. When her hand emerged, a generic phone blinked and buzzed with the words “K u rdy?” on the screen. Her surroundings were blurred, probably the handful of Ambien and Adderall she ingested an hour previously. She felt the bulge on her side, before abandoning the phone onto the cement sidewalk; then pulverizing it with the heel of her foot. When she blinked, she felt it. She had to move. Zipping down her jacket, she quickly un-holstered her handgun. It looked primitive compared to the current generation of firearms. A quick nod to herself reassured her apparently, because she started moving down the street. A man saw the handgun in her hands, and immediately began walking the opposite direction. She raised the handgun. She pulled the trigger. One single bullet ripped through the man’s neck, creating a baseball sized hole in both the entrance and the exit of his throat. And then it exploded. \n \nKent awoke in a break of sweat, alone in his dorm room. He could swear that he had company last night. A blonde with blue eyes, she was a knockout and Kent was surprised he could convince her to come back to his place. His brown eyes observed his disgusting room. He really did need to clean this place up; dishes and clothes cloaked the hardwood floors. Kent scratched his head as he walked through his hallway and up to his bathroom. His pale hand felt the chilling metal of the doorknob, but it was locked. “Hey, you in there?” He spoke quietly, his voice timid and uninteresting. Truthfully, he didn’t want an answer. His head hurt, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood for conversation. Especially not with a stereotypical dumb blonde. There was no answer, and he scratched his head again. That bitch locked his door and left through the window? The irony of the situation was kind of funny to Kent, as he sighed. His idea of a shower now left his mind, and he walked back into his room. His dresser had a heart carved into the deep mahogany wood. That was his first crush, Elise. He did love her, no matter how much she screamed at and beat him. The brass handlings of the furniture were wearing, and had lost their spray-painted color, leaving just a dark bronze metal behind. Inside contained a mess of clothes, underwear, and socks. Track pants and a white T were what he was looking for, and he had found them underneath of the heap of clothes in the second drawer. Kent quickly changed into his clothes, before slipping on some comfortable socks and a pair of gym shoes. He lightly jogged over to his small studio kitchen. On the fridge was a letter, the handwriting was very messy and unorganized. It was written in… what, lipstick? He pitied the girl, the stupid broad. The letters weren’t even sat in sentences; instead in randomly scrawled designs around the paper. He pocketed his keys, phone, wallet, and walked out of his dorm room, and locked his door behind him. \n \nNoah didn’t understand why he decided to pursue the path he did. The frail man was not made for the police route. He looked more like an office dweller, a square. His wife was quite beautiful, but he made sure to call her disgusting, repulsive, ugly, any chance he could. She wasn’t allowed self-esteem unless Noah permitted it. All she was allowed to do was use the public bus to get groceries for him, and to wash their clothes for the week. Anything else and he would make sure to punish her for it. She hadn’t come home last night when she went out to wash their clothes, and he was furious. He got aroused late into the night and when he opened his eyes she wasn’t there. He had to MASTURBATE, for Christ’s sake. Noah was fed up with her shit. The standard issue pistol in its holster felt uncomfortable on his side. Harber’s Coffee was a regular stop for him, and they treated him properly; like he damn well deserved. They gave him free coffee and pastries every morning and late afternoon. As the stool underneath of him wobbled a bit, he snarled and his nostrils flared. He caught himself. He was in public, he had a status to contribute to. “Hey, Tom.” He spoke, his voice loud and commanding. The man behind the counter nodded towards him, replying with an equally mundane greeting. A cup of coffee and a donut appeared in front of him in due seconds. “Good morning so far, pal?” He asked half caring, half looking down at the newspaper in his lap. The coffee he sipped on stung his throat, and he chomped off a hunk of the donut. He didn’t get a response, so he looked up. Tom must have disappeared into the back room. It wasn’t very busy in his store, as they had just opened and it was a work day. Noah and one other man were the only ones in the shop. Finally, he finished his coffee and donut, wiping the crumbs off of his paper and standing up. “I’ll be heading out now, Tom. You uh, you take care.” He turned, and then he heard an explosion.\n \nShe stood there with a serious look on her face, at the base of the Lincoln Memorial. Her fingers dabbed into her eyes as she removed the blue contacts from her eyes and the brunette wig from her head. She ripped the bald hat off, as well as her brown trench coat revealing a stunning body and a holstered handgun. There were only a few people lingering, no one had stopped her. She did the same thing at the Pentagon. It showed how easy it would be to overthrow the U.S. government. They would know her name; her cause, her reasoning behind what she was doing. Why she was doing what she was. It all started last night when she wanted excitement in her life, and she had fucked some college kid. Swallowed his pills and walked out the front door. The woman was far beyond her point of saving. The government has taken too much from her. She was tired, exhausted, wrinkles spanning her face. Then she spoke into a small recorder, and then pulled out her phone and sent a text message. Time stood still. Raid sirens wailed, bombs exploded in the distance. The death march of peace, the anthem of war. She pulled the gun up to her head, and pulled the trigger. \n",
"Time stood still. I could hear the sirens wail, the bombs explode, the people scream, but none of it was happening here. That was all in some far-off land, where the people still moved through time, where they lived, they loved, they died. But that's there. This is here. Here, there is no life or death. The planes stood still in the sky, their engines roaring, but never going anywhere. Their precious cargo, those things which were made to destroy and be destroyed, hovered in the air like a rain cloud forming above us all. If time were still moving, they'd fall like rain onto our heads, forcing us to run for cover under the torrent of droplets. But no. Time stood still, is standing still, and I suspect it will continue to stand still for a good long time. There was a time before, when things still moved, and I still worried about bombs and bullets. But that was before Time stopped to think. Now, I just sit here, wondering if it will ever rain, hoping for Time's awakening and basking in the glow of this screen.\n\nThe screaming has stopped. They've either died, which would be a horrible thing- to taunt us with their mobile Time- or they've also stepped out of time like us. Us, us, us, I say us, but I've no idea if any others are here. All I know is the calm, the wondering, and the glow. I play the game for a few minutes to pass the time -hah! as if!-, targeting those little glowing creatures and watching them go down as my score goes up. Oh, a whole column, how lucky. As they scatter for cover as my little dots intersect with theirs, snuffing out creature after creature. I stop for a moment to wonder what they might be, much too large to be a rabbit, too small to be a deer. But then I spot another column- delightful! No time for thought. I must get my score up as high as possible before Time notices that I'm still here. Before he lets go of those horrible devices suspended up in the air, before I'm snuffed out like one of these creatures in the game. And to think, we never declared war on them. Poor fools. Their Time will run out of steam soon enough and stop to rest, and once that has happened, I'll catch them unawares. But- what is that sound?",
"This was endgame. This was nightmare. This was all I had come to fear in my life, unfolding before me, approaching from the horizon. \n\nPeople ran, to where I don't know. Ducking and covering couldn't stop this machine, oiled by blood. I stood there, staring back at the fields I would play in as a child, burning. \n\n\"Wilhelm I'm not kidding around get over here.\" Edwin's voice penetrated the chaos from behind me. \"Now.\" An arm grabbed mine. I couldn't speak, although I wanted to. I wanted to say to him what was happening, it was as if he didn't see. I wanted to die. \n\n\"We have a car. We're going.\" Edwin fumbled for his keys. \n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"Over there, the other way. West.\"\n\n\"West?\"\n\n\"Yes, West. That's my plan, that was my plan the minute I saw those things coming, that was it, now you come with me or you die here like a fucking pawn!\" \n\nAn explosion on the horizon. They were taking their time, being thorough. The sky was red. \n\n\"I'll die here.\" I turned. He grabbed my arm again, but I pulled away. He turned me around and struck me across the face. I fell back. I sprang to my feet, but as I looked at him, he was crying. \n\n\"I don't... what... can we do...\" His eyes fell on the horizon. \"They're all dead.\" \n\n\"This is real,\" I told him. \"See that? This is real. And we can't win. We die here or we die out West.\" \n\n\"I don't wanna die...\" \n\n\"None of them did either. Nobody wants to die, Edwin, but... fuck, like, what can we do? Think of it, it's quick. One second you're here, the next you're gone.\"\n\n\"Maybe they'll take us prisoner...\"\n\n\"And torture us. That'd be a pain worse than death.\" ",
"Time stood still. Raid sirens wailed, bombs exploded in the distance. The death march of peace, the anthem of war.\n\nAs the roar faded to a gentle echo, Lieutenant Kennick checked the safety on his rifle and then slung it over his shoulder. He pulled off one glove so that he could better itch that damned spot where helmet meets hairline. As his nails scraped the skin he sighed with relief. With that annoyance out of the way, he dropped his arm and shook the sweat off onto the uneven road.\n\n\"Sergeant Evans!\" he hollered, taking a step forward. His rifle-strap slipped off his shoulder, and he caught it awkwardly as Evans crunched his way up the gravel path.\n\n\"You got that, sir?\" Evans gestured at the rifle.\n\n\"It's this humidity. Damn near everything here slithers somewhere unwanted. Hup, that's it...\" He tugged the strap to make sure the weapon was secured.\n\n\"All good?\" Evans said. He looked over his shoulder at the jets, which had started to circle around near the mountains. One foot toyed with a loose stone.\n\n\"I just wanted to check a few things with you.\"\n\n\"Shoot.\"\n\n\"Has second squad made it down to the riverbank?\"\n\n\"I saw them over there 'bout five minutes ago. I'm not sure how many people were down there, but it shouldn't take them too long to round the others up. We should see them up here any minute now.\"\n\n\"Good, good. Have we checked all the houses on this street yet?\"\n\n\"Sergeant Hocken's just clearing out the last one now. If there's anyone in there, he'll find them.\"\n\n\"Right. Get over to the radio and-\"\n\nKennick steadied his helmet with one hand as another pair of fighters thundered low overhead.\n\n\"See the tails?\" Evans asked, turning his head to follow their flight into the valley.\n\n\"Yeah, black and red. 217th out of Tiger Base, right?\"\n\n\"Red Tigers, yeah. The southern front must be quiet.\"\n\n\"Let's hope so.\"\n\nA spray of black, like a rooster's tail, rose from the valley. A second sprang up vigorously beside it, and by the time the third bomb hit the dull crack of the first echoed through the street. Evans' head twitched and he put a hand to his rifle.\n\n\"Second squad, coming up!\" a voice hollered. Evans' arm dropped down to his side as a thin file of soldiers appeared, accompanied by a group of ragged-looking civilians, who goggled wide-eyed at the soldiers. The lead soldier strode up to Kennick and nodded deferently.\n\n\"We found these ones hiding out in the marsh, sir. The rest of the riverbank is clear.\"\n\n\"Well done, Corporal,\" Kennick nodded. He surveyed the civilians, who huddled close to one another. \"Take them back to the rally point. There should still be a few trucks ready to transport them to the camps.\"\n\n\"Affirmative, sir,\" the Corporal nodded. He threw an arm out toward the rear section. \"Let's get them moving.\"\n\n\"Come on, Sergeant,\" Kennick said, watching the squad approvingly. \"Let's see if Hocken's managed to winkle anyone else out.\"\n\nHe started out along the road. Overhead, the latest fighters had circled around and were heading back to base. The sirens still blared. They found Sergeant Hocken a few doors down, nodding urgently to the radioman. As Kennick's shadow fell over him he stood to attention.\n\n\"The street is clear, sir. No fugitives here.\"\n\n\"Hm,\" Kennick nodded. \"They must've fled elsewhere.\" He turned to the radioman. \"Any word from command?\"\n\n\"Recon reports that the third wall has been breached. They're waiting for confirmation that we've cleared this village out.\"\n\nKennick turned to look back down the road, but second squad had vanished from view. He returned his gaze to the radioman. \"Tell command that they're good to go. Sergeant Hocken, round up the men and get back to the rally point ASAP. This village will be wreckage when the fighters come through.\"\n\n\"Roger that, sir. I'll get them moving at once.\" Hocken nodded. He turned. \"FIRST SQUAD, FORM UP ON ME! OVER HERE AT THE DOUBLE! PALCOTT, GET DOWN FROM THAT HOUSE OR GO DOWN WITH IT!\"\n\n\"He's got quite the voice,\" Evans remarked as the pair set off back down the road. \"Maybe they should make him the new raid siren?\"\n\nKennick said nothing. His eyes were fixed firmly on the sky, though his ears pricked up at the sound of a dozen feet crunching on the gravel behind him. First squad was moving out. Good. When those fighters came through, this village would be destroyed.\n\nBut not by the bombs. Kennick's men weren't here to subjugate, they were here to save. Right now the last of the villagers were being hauled back to the refugee camps, and in a few minutes the bombs would drop and the last wall of rockfall in the valley would be cleared. After weeks of buildup the blocked river would be free to flow again, though this small village would be destroyed in the deluge. Destroyed without casualties thanks to their efforts.\n\nThat was something, Kennick mused as the trucks pulled away up the hill and two black dots appeared over the horizon. Here, in the middle of a war...here were the bombs of hope and peace. The dots grew larger. Their thunder trickled down the valley like a distant waterfall.\n\nAnd the sirens wailed on.\n\n"
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For example, someone who is afraid of heights and falling has the power to fly, or someone who is afraid of fire can manipulate fires. I'm curious to see what you guys say.
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[WP] You have a super power, however you have a fear of what it is. Examples included.
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"Arista stood frozen on the sand a safe distance from the edge of even the most ambitious wave. Her heart racing as she looked out to the ocean. She willed herself to move forward with every ounce of courage she could muster but her feet remained steadfastly planted. Her childhood friend Todd bobbed in the water motioning for her to join him. Todd and Arista spent the last week practicing for this day. The day Arista conquered her fear of drowning. Todd took Arista to a larger body of water every day and worked on overcoming her aquaphobia, starting with a kiddie pool in her back yard and finally ending up here at the beach. Todd would go in first then slowly Arista would follow until both were calm and floating in the middle. Arista hated herself for having such an idiotic fear especially considering she should be the last person on the planet with a fear of water. Todd swore to himself to accept his friend’s unusual situation and do everything in his power to help her and he had picked up a few tricks along the way. He saw Arista wasn’t moving forward so he did the same thing he had done every time so far, he moved deeper in the water, she knew if she wanted him to stop she would have to get in or he would just keep going he was an excellent swimmer and comfortable in deep water. \n\n\nWhat Todd didn’t notice was the rip current warning signs and suddenly he found himself being whisked away from the shore. The waves intensified and he was having difficulty staying above water. He looked back to the beach and Arista was running along the edge of the water calling for him to swim out, but he couldn’t, he was gasping for air and inhaling more water than oxygen, he gave one final glance at Arista before he was submerged completely and unable to resurface. \n\n\nArista refused to stand by and watch her best friend perish. She pushed down her fear and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward the water. Her phobia replaced with long lost instincts. Her feet splashed twice as she entered the water and she dove beneath a large wave. The second her toes and legs were submerged with the rest of her body in the salty water they shifted back to their natural state. No time to waste she used her newly restored turquois tail and large fins to thruster her forward toward the last place she had seen Todd. Her eyes adapted to the salt water and she could see further and clearer than she ever could on land. Arista spotted her friend’s limp body drifting in the water. She swam toward him moving through the water faster than a torpedo. He was still alive but just barely; she reached around his chest and bolted toward the surface. Arista lifted Todd above her as they broke the water’s surface. She quickly shifted back from her mermaid gills to human form and inhaled deeply then, pressing her lips to his, forced air into his lungs. In seconds he was coughing up water violently and struggling to catch his breath. Arista couldn’t tread water for very long with legs so she shifted back using her tail to support her while she focused on keeping Todd’s head out of the water as she carried him back to the shore. \n",
"\"I can't do it!\" I yell manically, pressing myself against the side of the truck. The building in question is on the other side, where there's no chance I could see it.\n\n\"You're the only one who can save them, Dan!\"\n\n\"I CAN'T DO IT!\" God, why me? Why couldn't someone else, anyone release, be capable of saving all those helpless people? Then they might have a chance at being saved.\n\n\"The building's not going to last much longer!\" someone shouts.\n\nThe only other Hero in the city looks at me. \"If that fire doesn't go out, Dan, all those innocent people are going to die. This is where you overcome your fear.\"\n\nMy fear. The one thing that's always been holding me back. That's kept me from leading a normal, functioning life.\n\n\"Put out the fire, Dan!\"\n\nIt's absurd, really. But then, so is the power to put out any fire in my line of sight. \n\n\"Dan, DO IT!\"\n\n\"I CAN'T!\"\n\n\"YOU HAVE TOO!\"\n\nTrembling, I peak around the end of the truck and freeze. My muscles lock up.\n\n\"PUT OUT THE FIRE!\"\n\nAnd I can't. I couldn't even if I wanted to. My fear completely and utterly paralyzes me.\n\nThe flames dance before me, and a fresh wave of fear drowns all rational thought.\n\n\"YOU NEED TO DO IT NOW, DAN!\"\n\nMy ever-present, irrational fear.\n\n\"THEY'RE GOING TO DIE!\"\n\nFear of the color orange.",
"Dear Adam,\n\nThis might surprise you, but I hope it doesn't scare you away; I'm sure I'm not the only one who keeps their powers a secret. I wasn't all *that* surprised when I got mine to be honest. I mean, if I'd read comic books before my abilities manifested, I would have seen it coming a mile away. People with alliterated names always turn out to be someone special. J. Jonah Jameson, Otto Octavius, Lex Luther... The list goes on.\n\nAnd then there's me, Amy Ashley Amore. When I was in sixth grade, I started spelling it *Ami*, just so I'd have a letter \"i\" to put a heart over. Ugh, what a horrible time, but I can at least try to laugh about it now. In seventh grade, Brian Benson cut off one of my pigtails and I had to go the rest of middleschool with short hair. I guess that means he liked me, but what an elementary school prank! \n\nSorry, I guess I can't quite laugh about it yet. Actually, you might recognize him. The media is calling him The Bully these days (not surprising if you grew up with him), but it might also be a little bit my fault.\n\nThe thing is, I got my revenge in ninth grade. The boys' hormones had caught up with the girls and it was almost too easy to get him to ask me out. We date for two weeks and then he gets the embarrassment of a public breakup from the girl with a pixie cut. Well, it turns out it *was* too easy.\n\nI didn't put two and two together for a few years and believe me, I've done some damage. I got my boss fired, I've caused a falling out between brothers (yes, I broke up the Titan Twins) and I have an estranged friend who I left very, *very* confused. They were all people I just wanted to like me. You can probably already see where this is going, but I need to be totally honest with you.\n\nI can make anyone fall in *what they think is love* with me.\n\nThanks why I didn't kiss you that night and I haven't returned your calls in two weeks; because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that you took me on the best date I've ever been on. I'm scared that I might like you, terrified that I might one day love you, and petrified that we might never, ever know if you really love me. \n\nYours if you want me to be,\n\n-Amy Ashley Amore"
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It could be your character's personal experience or that of watching a loved one with the disease.
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[WP] Becoming a zombie is similar to having cancer. There are four stages. Write the experience of becoming a zombie from stage one-four.
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[
"\"It's complicated.\" The doctor ruffled my sleeping son's hair before he sat down at his desk. It was piled with case files, I knew they were case files because I'd helped compile them. We all had to do our part; and since there weren't any legal briefs anymore I spent my days at homebase compiling similar case files; even if the terminology made my head spin my paralegal training was useful enough to get me and my boy food and shelter inside the Last Barricade. \"How much do you know about the infection?\" \n \n\"Just what the posters tell us, what they broadcast over the radio. Don't get bit, if you find someone with a bite, report them to the nearest soldier.\" I held my son; barely three years old, tighter in my lap. I was sure he hadn't been bit. He rarely left my sight, most of the days he played on the floor of the tiny office where I sorted lab reports and medical histories. \n \nDoctor Umbrage nodded, as if to himself. \"Well, that works, its just common sense I suppose...\" He bit his lip and leaned forward. \"Now, what I'm going to tell you doesn't leave this room- we're all infected. Shhh! Calm down, don't wake him. He needs his rest. Now, we're all infected. We're all in what we call the Latent or Dormant phase.\" \n \n\"Doctor I... are you saying I've already got it in me?\" Seth snored, and I envied his blissful ignorance. \n \n\"Yes, more or less. We've always had bacteria that lives on us and in us, symbiotically. On our skin, in our gut. We always have, except for this Z3D strain. That one is the big nasty, and it shares space with all the rest. But its inactive. Harmless. We might have had it for months, years before anyone noticed. We're not sure what made it activate. But when whatever did caused a cascade effect, starting with Patient Zero out in Delaware.\" He glanced at the very thumb-tacked map that hung on his office wall. \n\n \"Once it's in the Waking phase, a horrible thing happens. The Z3D bacterium starts using bacterial chemical markers, which is how bacteria communicate, to hijack all the rest of the bacteria, the E.Coli and Staph and Strep already in your body, causing them to become Z3D bacteria themselves. Because your immune system doesn't recognize it as a threat, your body doesn't do anything to stop it. This part of the process can take anywhere from minutes to days, and the subject will probably experience a loss pf appetite because it takes longer to digest food.\" \n\n I felt my blood run cold. I hadn't barely eaten anything all day, I still had most of my ration back at our bunk and I wasn't really hungry. I had figured it was from watching them run their tests on Seth all morning. Come to think of it, Seth had barely touched dinner last night, but he'd always been a picky eater, even before. \n\n\"Now, once most of the bacteria in the body has been commandeered, we enter the Active phase. The different bacteria in the body stop recruiting each other and start working in concert on the endocrine system, the brain stem, and the sensory lobes of the brain. The Active-phase subject becomes irritable and aggressive, becomes less sensitive to pain, and what's worse is their blood and saliva is flooded with the activated bacterial markers. From this point on, they're capable of activating latent-phase carriers, and the more bites they inflict the faster their victims become Active themselves. In some cases, an Active patient remains in control of their sanity for a few days, but eventually they all succumb.\" \n\nI struggled to control my breathing. I'd always been a bit of a hypochondriac, I was the kind of person that would self-diagnose myself with diseases I'd seen on TV or in Reader's Digest. Plus, this man was telling me that my own son could be a monster, so it was natural that I'd start hating him, right? I clenched my eyes tight and tried to keep my hands from shaking as I held Seth in my lap, as his drool soaking into my shirt. Doctor Umbrage's voice kept going, he was staring at the map and all the thumbtacks where the outbreaks had occurred. Each one had begun with a riot, and each became a graveyard in hours.\n\n\"And finally... well, death or something close to it. A dead body is of little use to bacteria, but a living body that can act as a host and spread their numbers is. By the end-stage, the bacteria have completed the mutiny of the body and are keeping the host 'alive' by themselves, sending impulses through the nervous system to pump blood, circulate oxygen, and even move limbs, not as efficiently or gracefully as a living person but long after a normal person would succumb to injury.\" \n\n I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I could feel Seth's beating in his as he lay slumped against my chest. I almost felt Sarah's heartbeat, on my arm; but she was long dead by now and hopefully staying that way. \"Doctor, I... Seth, he-\" My voice cracked as I spoke. \"You've been running tests on him all morning. I saw a few of the results, but... I couldn't make heads or tails of any of it... what stage of the infection is he at?\" \n\n \"Well, Anthony that's the thing.\" Doctor Umbrage adjusted his glasses and picked a clipboard up off his desk, lifted a page and lowered it again. \"He isn't at any of them. He isn't even Latent. Your boy there is the best chance we've got at a cure. But its going to take a lot of his blood to get us there.\" He slid the clipboard towards me. It held a medical release form. I didn't know much about medical terminology, but I knew some of the numbers alright, and I knew it was too much. \"Like I said earlier, Anthony. Our conversation today does not leave this room. This decision is yours.\"",
"\"How will we know? How will we know if we're gonna turn?\" Louis said shaking with fear. He cradled himself against the wall of the mall, his knees against his chest while his arms wrapped around himself.\n\n\"I've seen the Change,\" Cassie said, her crystal blue eyes in the usual thousand-yard stare. We all looked to her, surprised she could talk. \"My dad got bit by our neighbor. It was the beginning of the Plague. We didn't know what was happening or that it had become an pandemic. We returned home, my brother and I helping my father, and we watched the news, kept our hopes up that maybe the military would save us.\n\n\"It started with the Scabs. He had little scabs popping up all over the place,\" Cassie said, her eyes filling with tears. She refused to let them fall however. She cried enough over her father, and she wanted to finish the story without stopping. \"They would grow and puss would come out. He cleaned them himself until he became Frozen. His movements slowed and his muscles tightened. He'd groan in pain from all the tension in his limbs. We knocked him out with pain killers, but it'd only make him unconscious. His body wouldn't give. Then came the Shakes.\n\n\"He'd wake us up shaking violently,\" she said, her voice almost giving out from the pain of recollecting those days. \"He wouldn't be awake though. For days, he'd shake and toss, having seizures, but his limbs were still tight while the Scabs opened and oozed out puss. Then, he started to smell and that's when we knew he was gone. He finished Changing and he became one of them.\""
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[WP] In the future, a form of time travel exists. You can go back into your past and be a voice in your own head.
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[
"I can feel the voice coming again. It always tingles before the voice comes. The medicine does nothing. The doctor says it will help if I keep taking it. He has been saying that for three years.\n\n\"Get out of here. You're not crazy. It's a mistake that you're here.\"\n\n\"No, I'm here because I hear things that aren't there. I'm here because I'm sick.\"\n\n\"You're not sick. You're perfectly healthy. I know because I'm you from the future. You need to get out of here.\"\n\n\"DOCTOR!!!\" I scream\n\n\"THE VOICE IS BACK AND HE'S TELLING ME TO ESCAPE!\"\n\nDr. Dron enters the room quickly.\n\n\"What else is it saying David?\"\n\n\"He says he's me from the future\"\n\n\"We're going to need to up your dosage David. I would have thought that your current levels would break the psychosis, but it seems I was wrong.\"",
"\"I know what you want.\"\n\n\"No, leave, go away, I don't want you.\"\n\n\"I can be everything you hope and desire to be, just let me take over, I can fix every flaw, I can get you the girl of your dreams, I can do anything possibly imaginable for you. I'm not against you, I want to help you.\" \n\n\n\nHe can't possibly expect me to believe him... I mean, what could a ghost of myself want from me? He tells me he's from the future, he tells me that he can fulfill my desires. I just simply have to let go, \"let\" him be me. Do I give up? He's in my mind, he hears everything I think, he shames me for my wrongs. Don't get me wrong, he's not bad, he keeps me company, he's there when nobody else is, there's nothing he can't do for me, whether it be cheer me up or something as simple as waking me up for work everyday. I'm just wondering who he is. \n\n\"So, have you made up your mind?\" He asks me this question every day, he haunts me with that eerie tone of a gentleman, someone who sounds like... me, but more mature, less intoxicated. \n\n\"I... don't know. I can't do it, what about my preferences, I know I've screwed up, but... doesn't everyone here and there?\" \n\n\"You're hesitant again, be open with me, I *am* you.\" He says with a chuckle. Again, I'm confused as to whether he really is me, or a fragmentation of my mind. \n\n\"Why do I have to give everything up to you? Am I simply not good enough?\"\n\n\"You are good enough, yet because you are, so am I. I'm simply a little more capable.\" \n\n\"What could you possibly have to offer to me that would be worth my freedom?\"\n\n\"I've listed everything for you, fame, fortune, money, you name it.\" \n\n\"You've stuck with me through thick and thin, you've given me more than anyone ever has, a friend, a true, reliable, trustable, friend. Can't we simply be friends?\"\n\n\"... I...\"\n\n\"What, am I finally getting through to you that my emotions matter as well?\"\n\n\"I- I- I know you. I know every part of you, I lived as you, and I live through you yet again, but this time, I'm only a piece of your reality. I'm simply in the corner of your mind, I know what happens to you, I can warn you, and it tears me to pieces to know that you feel and suffer the same pains I did, that you suffer under severe depression, nothing ever goes your way, everyone hates you, your family is tearing, falling to pieces, and I want to help. Won't you let me?\" \n\nThis hits me. Harder than when I ran into that car, drunk and lying, I'd never been more sober in my life. What he said truly touched me, but does he know me? He lived my life... and he said he's living it again... he... *is* me. \n\n\"Ahh... you remember the car. That was what changed my life. It was what started spiraling me onto this path... but you don't have to walk it as well. You've told yourself time and time again you'd rather be lonely, that your journey would be you and you alone, but it doesn't have to be this way. Isn't the trek more enjoyable with a friend?\"\n\n\"I... don't know what to say.\" I'm speechless, my breath taken away through the sheer knowledge that a future lies ahead for myself that was such sheer and utter chaos, such a gloomy, dark future, that I ran away from it, through time and space, to come back and warn myself, to guide myself to a better light. \n\n\"Take my hand, we'll be together forever, we'll fight for our freedom from these chains that bind us down together. You don't have to be alone.\" \n\nI firmly grasp that hand that reaches down to me, and I can already see the light that shines through the darkest night."
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[WP] For an hour, everyone is completely honest
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[
"The new guy, John, pushed off his desk and let is chair roll back a few feet. He exhaled in exasperation as it swivelled gently. \n\n“What's wrong?” asked Colin.\n\n“I'm just feeling out of my depth, that's all.” replied John.\n\n“You're doing all right so far” said Colin in his best reassuring tone. “What are you having problems with?”\n\n“It's not anything in particular. Thing is, I only got this job because I fucked the woman who interviewed me, and I've been sitting here for the past two weeks praying that no one finds out. It feels like it's only a matter of time until someone realises I'm not cut out for this job, then they'll start wondering how I got it. What if my wife finds out?”\n\nThe silence rippled out across the office. The background of office chatter, typing and paper rustling disappeared completely, leaving only the hum of computers and the quickly hushed whispers of people trying to work out what they just heard. After that seemed like an eternity the voice came from the other side of the desk.\n\n“Who interviewed you?”\n\nThe silence stretched out once more, even more complete than the last silence.\n\n“Jenny” came the eventual reply. A murmur went out across the office, a communal exhaling of breath mixed in with a muttering of “I knew it!” and “she is not going to live this one down...”\n\nA grin spread across Coin's face “Aaaaaaa!” he shouted, “you really had me going for a minute!”",
"Mushrooms sprouted from the chia-like earth. The two astronauts stared out the window of the ISS, aghast at what they were seeing.\n\n\"What the hell happened?\" Joe asked his partner.\n\n\"I have no idea. We get beamed up the news don't we?\" Nigel responded.\n\nThe two astronauts pushed themselves from the wall, floating towards console. They quickly pulled up the most recent news footage, 7m ago read the timestamp.\n\n*Breaking news: US President admits to involvement in Ukraine insurgency to local journalist.*\n\nThe two men looked at each other in disbelief, there was nothing that prompted such a revelation. A flood of headlines read 59m ago or under.\n\n*Breaking News: Koch brothers admit to owning 59% of American political system during Reddit AMA.*\n\n*\"I'm gay!\" Justin Bieber finally comes out of the closet.*\n\nHis partner wrestled control of the keyboard from Joe, logging into his British newsfeed to see a slew of similarly shocking revelations. They stared at each other in disbelief.\n\n\"It's as if everyone forgot how to lie... Jim Carey, YOU MONSTER!!!\" The two screamed, wailing for all they had just lost and are currently losing. Mushrooms kept popping up all over the world, each one bigger than the last.",
"\"I'm not sorry, I don't actually love you.\"\n\n\"Me neither. I'm not sorry, I meant to say 'what' in a shocked tone of voice, and then carry out my plot for your demise, but apparently I can't lie right now.\"\n\n\"Curious, I can only tell the truth as well. I'm a selfish bastard who only thought you might look good on my arm at various opportunities to flaunt my superiority to all the lesser people in the world. A trophy if you will. Also you're halfway decent in bed and you're not even the prettiest woman I've ever seen. Top 10 maybe. Your intelligence leaves much to be desired.\"\n\n\"This revelation is completely unsurprising. I've actually pretended this whole time to be a brainless ditz. You met me at Harvard, I thought you were an idiot because you never suspected it was an act.\"\n\n\"I knew. You're plenty smart, I said it left much to be desired. I am on an entire other intelligence level. It's how I became so rich. While we're letting all our secrets out, I'd just like to say I never committed any acts of infidelity. My libido is low and I have full confidence in my girthiness. Merely copulating with you was enough to satisfy my urges. It's surprising because I'm a violent sociopath who derives satisfaction from manipulating people, and am responsible for at least 15 deaths. I have a constant urge to kill that is only temporarily sated.\"\n\n\"Only 15? I lost count of all the men I've led on for money. Covering up their deaths was exciting and easy. The police took one look at the ditzy brunette and moved on. It's surprising how many men turn out to be masochists waiting to be dominated; the reason I sucked in bed was that I've never actually had sex. I have to also agree that in that area of expertise you are quite skilled. Enough that I never cheated either.\"\n\n\"Can we skip the formalities and attempt to kill each other before realizing we are equally matched, but not really because I am holding back my skills, and then begin copulating furiously?\"\n\n\"Certainly, although I was holding back too. I've received combat training under numerous aliases in various countries.\"\n\n\"I am intrigued at the possibility this may actually be a challenge. I think I'm falling in love.\"\n\n\"I am simultaneously disgusted and aroused. This is my fetish.\"\n\n\"Shall we begin?\""
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I am actually stealing this from an old askreddit thread where this was an answer to something like 'what would you wish upon your worst enemy'. I liked the concept, but didn't find any such prompt in this sub's history. I love reading y'all, so here goes.
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[WP] On the day of their death, every human gets to have a vision of meeting the man they could have become.
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[
"\"Was it her?\" I asked solemnly, my life was coming to a close. Across from my bed a strikingly familiar man stood. My first thoughts were a mirror, but then how would he be standing? I had one question. Why did he emit the sense of success? What went different in his life that changed it all?\n\nHe heard my answer, mulled it over and after a brief pause answered. \"Yes.\" \n\nMy gut dropped. My mind raced back to that fateful week in high school. Anne. She was perfect to me. French, brunette and an amazing smile. She laughed at my jokes even when I didn't try. I knew I wanted her next to me for as long as I could have her. \n\nI remember the day I asked her to homecoming.\n\nI remember the weekend our plans were cancelled and I thiught nothing of it.\n\nI remember the Monday after, amd how cold she felt. How distant her gaze was.\n\nI remember.\n\nThe night of homecoming was suppose to be amazing. In my head I imagined dancing the night away, requesting the song I had written for her and pulling her close. I wanted to pull her close to me, put her hand over my heart and kiss her. I wanted so much.\n\nThe night of homecoming was a disaster. I waited in a line of 200 people with five *friends* I barely knew. The closest of the five, Jon, had seen Anne walk right behind me. He stopped her and tried speaking on my behalf. The second she saw my face she walked away. Gone. The rest of the night I wandered aimlessly around the dance floor. Catching sparse glimpses of her doing the same. I could tell neither of us were content. But I didn't want to change that.\n\nI remember.\n\nI looked at him. I must have been lost in my own thoughts again. I opened my mouth to speak and he was a step ahead of me. He knew the question. What happened? \n\n\"The night of homecoming, our paths split into two. You walked around for hours waiting for the dance to end. Didn't even try to dance. I on the other hand, heard Bangarang come on and saw Willem flag me over to the circle. That circle became my playground as I let out all the emotion I had pent up. I recieved an ovation from more people than I realized were watching. Then I saw her. She was watching. I walked outside for fresh air, then I heard it. Very quiet footsteps. You remember how light footed she could be? She came closer and told me Jon had explained everything to her. I looked at her and apologized. I told her I was sorry I took the blame for something I didnt do. She forgave me and we danced the night away. I got the kiss I wanted and we were happy for quite some time.\"\n\nWe were quiet for some time after he finished talking. I looked up and his gaze met mine, slowly his hand reached out. A letter in his grip. \"We wanted to give this to you.\" I reached out, slowly opened it and read it.\n\nInstantly I recognized her handwriting from my lyric book she \"borrowed\" from me.\n\nHi Alex.\n\nMy Alex tells me he's coming to visit you; that your close to dying. I dont know how I should feel. I dont know what you grew up to be, but I hope you didn't keep everything pent up forever. The reason you and I happened is an interesting one; Jon saw you starting to dance and pulled me in to look. After you finished he explained everything to me, how you were completely oblivious to what Andrew told me. I had no clue up to that point. I wanted to give you another chance. But only because you were able to let go of the bottled up emotions. I hope you grew up to be what my Alex did. I love the both of you.\n\n-AIJ\n\nA single tear rolled down my cheek and as I closed my eyes for the final time, I heard her singing. Singing me to sleep one more time.",
"Motor sport vehicles were the first to be outlawed. When you tell a man he has a day to live, and remind him he could have been a monster car driver if he hadn't knocked that slut up in high school, more often then not, you end up with a wrecked truck and a dead man. Which is fine, insurance pays and you garnish the wages of his progeny for three generations. To outsiders, it just looks a little... exploitative.\n\nIt happens to everyone. You wake up drenched in sweat, with crystal clear knowledge of the totality of your failure. To some men, the heights they could have soared made recognizing this day nearly impossible. For many, the dream came with the depressing realization of how little they could have amounted to. But for those in the middle, those who cold yet conceive of a perfectly actualized life, the allure of this alternate reality consumed even the knowledge of their imminent demise. This combination of hope and myopia was the lifeblood of payday lenders for generations, it took them an embarrassingly long amount of time to tap this market. \n\nThe applications were the prospectuses of lunatics, incapable of separating their life of booze sodden compromise from the cloistered life of work and neglect which lead to their best selves And at the bottom of each is the untidy scrawled signature of the approving manager. Auto sports, oil prospecting, and pyrotechnics were all out. Cupcake bakery had become a fairly wise investment, after the first hundred thousand went under. For the most part though, these impossible missions were inaugurated with the nod of a middle manager. \n\nThey walked out of the florescent lobby and back into the lobby of a bank. There was a time when a man could show up at a medical supply store looking to buy one operating room in cash, but it was never long before a man in a faded polyester suit and a summons came to politely ask for all that money back. Cash or an overpriced platinum card, it made no difference. Purchasing alone took hours, and many had stress induced coronaries or wrapped their business Porsches around a pole before lunchtime. The hardier souls remaining sometimes even had optimism sufficient to order business cards before they succumbed. \n\nThen came the collectors to inform the family their property was now forfeit. Complicating matters somewhat was the fact this was often the first the family had heard of their dearly departed for some time. Not many perfect lives contained imperfect families. Auctions were held, and deals made. Cheap cremations yielded coarse ashes in a bargain vase. Cinders and bills are all that are left of these most sad, most hopeful creatures.",
"I sat up in the room, my eyes struggling to adjust to the light. As I finally adjusted, I realized I was sitting in a comfy armchair facing a fireplace, which was burning with a cool blue glow. I looked to my left, and the Man looked back at me. He was about seventy or eighty, the look in His eyes a mixture of pity and contemplation, as if He was an official that was trying to find the best way to tell me how badly I'd messed up this time.\n\n\"So you have awoken,\" was all He said, his voice deep, hearty and fulfilled, like a man who spent his life laughing, \"How was your life?\" he asked, leaning forward.\n\n\"Life?\" I asked, \"Then, are you god? You don't seem very powerful to me.\"\n\nThe Man laughed, a beautiful sound, as if Apollo and his choir had descended to earth along with a band of Yahweh's angels to orchestrate it. He very well could have made a living by laughing. \"No, I am not a god,\" He chuckled, \"Though I believe I remember reading [something like that in the past](http://www.galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html)...\"\n\n\"Then what are you?\" I asked, \"And where is this? Why am I here? Do you expect me to simply talk about my life to a strange man in a strange house? How long have I been here?\"\n\nThe Man looked at me, a confused look on his face, \"I suppose I should not have expected that from the Is. Very well, I shall offer you a deal. For every question I answer, you shall offer one of mine. Is that acceptable?\"\n\nI considered the question, sizing the Man up. Although He seemed a kindly old Man, He had still kidnapped me and kept me in this room prisoner for who knows how long. He had probably more than enough to think up the questions that would get the most out of me before taking whatever drugs had kept me asleep away from me. Except my hands were unbound, my clothes were freshly laundered, and it seemed that the clothes had been made especially for me. I looked up at him, looking into His eyes that were a pool of blue that shifted slowly to green then back again, as if they couldn't decide which was more beautiful. His hair was a soft gray color, almost white, and His face had been recently shaven. \"I suppose I could agree to that,\" I said, choosing my words as if numbers for a password.\n\n\"Excellent!\" He exclaimed, \"Now, since you have answered that question, I shall answer one of yours. I believe your first question was what am I? That one is easy, I am you, or at least, the you that could have, should have been. I lived to be Three Hundred and forty three years old, but everyone keeps telling me I look only Two hundred of those. During my lifetime, I created a vaccine against death, a small red pill I like to call, 'The Stone of Nicholas Flamel'. 'Just one a day keeps death at bay!' I was a billionaire, a savior, a Hero celebrated across the land. I only made one mistake in my lifetime.\"\n\n\"What was-\" I started, forgetting all about my circumstances.\n\n\"Uh-Uh-Uhh!\" The Man interrupted me, \"I still haven't heard how your life was.\"\n\n\"It was short,\" I found myself saying, \"I was born in-\" As I continued my tale, memories began to come back to me, like old toys that had been discarded by accident, then found in the attic many years later as you cleaned out your house. I remembered elementary school, my first failure, middle school, my first crush, my first true friend. I remembered high school, I remembered my teachers, my enemies, my sadness, my happiness. All these memories came flooding back to me, as if I had accidentally pulled the plug on the world’s oceans then stood under the ensuing deluge, and all of these memories came pouring into me, and I told the Man everything. The story of how I had embarrassed myself once in a grocery store, how I had hardened myself to happiness in a misguided attempt to become stronger, how I had played with love as if it was a stick, to be directed at whomever I wanted, how I hated myself for existing, how I cried myself dry on my friends lap. All these stories and more came flooding out of my mouth, and then, \"I jumped in front of the two of them. That's the last memory I have.\" I looked at the old Man, and saw that His eyes were streaming tears, His eyes filled to the brim with sadness and respect. As I stood up to try and apologize, He waved me down, tears still streaming down His face.\n\n\"I have talked to every single version of us,\" He began, \"and until now, each of us has believed that I was the best version, that I was the greatest, the best, the one that should have been, all ten million, four hundred thousand, and eighty four of us. Until now. You may have started out the worst, the most horrible, disgusting lowlife that ever crawled or walked this planet. You formed ideas that would endanger millions, and hated yourself purely for existing. I admit, when you started, I thought that you would be just like so many others, selfish and weak. You would have asked what my one mistake was. I'll show you.\" He walked over to a bookshelf, and pulled out an old newspaper clipping, handing it to me. \n\nAs I looked at the paper, I realized that it was the front page of the 'Issaquah Times', the local newspaper in my area. The title read, 'Shooting at local High School kills twenty'. As I looked down, I saw the pictures on the page flickering, as if shifting between realities. One second, it was me and another student I had seen in my final moments. The next, it was my two best friends. \"I... I don't understand,\" I said, \"What happened?\"\n\nThe Man leaned down, and gave me the warmest hug I had ever felt, his warm tears streaming off his face onto my shoulder, \"You did it, my boy. You did what Ten Million, Four Hundred Thousand, and Eighty Three different versions of us never could, making slightly different choices, doing slightly different things. You saved them.\"\n",
"\"Late to work again,\" grumbled Joshua.\nUnbeknownst to Joshua, today was his last day on Earth. Stepping on the subway train for the last time, a rather disheveled looking man stepped off of the subway train at the same time Joshua was stepping on. They collided. Joshua, surprised by this clumsy oaf bumping into him, dropped his coffee which spilled all over the man's coat.\n\"Look at what you've done you moronic fool!\" shouted Joshua to the man. \"Do you know what a coffee costs nowadays? Probably not, because you can't even afford one you poor hobo!\"\nThe man looked at Joshua and said, \"I'm truly sorry sir. I did not mean to bump into you.\"\n\"Well you did, and there's nothing we can do to reverse it. So scram you bum.\"\n---\n\"Sir, you have a call on line 1,\" said Joshua's secretary. \n\"Thank you Linda, and can you fetch me a coffee?\"\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\"Thanks hotstuff.\"\nJoshua picked up the phone and replied with his snarky greeting of, \"Yes, what is it?\"\nA cold voice replied on the phone, \"Joshua Parker?\"\nA chill ran up Joshua's spine as he heard the voice.\n\"Yes, and who is this?\"\n\"Someone you're going to see very soon.\"\n\"Look, I don't have time for games,\" replied Joshua.\n\"You're going to die at 5:38 PM today.\"\nJoshua immediately hung up. \n\"I hate crank calls.\"\nLinda walked in with Joshua's coffee and handed it to him. Joshua took the coffee. As Linda walked away Joshua gave her a firm slap on the behind. Linda turned around and gave Joshua a glare.\n\"Come on baby. You know you love it.\"\n---\nJoshua entered the subway station talking on his smartphone. The station was empty except for a few people. Joshua sat on one of the benches in the station and waited for his subway to arrive. A man approached him. When the man was directly in front of Joshua, he took out a gun and pointed it at him.\n\"Don't scream, just give me all your valuables.\"\nJoshua, not being used to situations like this like most people, yelled for help immediately. The man pulled the trigger of the gun, shot and killed Joshua, and then grabbed his wallet and smartphone and then ran.\nIn his final seconds Joshua could have sworn he saw a hooded figure standing on the opposite platform and the last time he glanced at his smartphone he read the time, 5:38 PM.\n---\nJoshua opened his eyes and found that he was laying on the ground of the subway station he had died in not a moment before. \nHe slowly stood. Around him everything looked the same about the subway. Except there was not a single person in it. At least before there had been a few, but now there was no one. It was completely deserted.\nThe sound of approaching footsteps surprised Joshua and he turned to the stairs of the subway. The hooded figure descended the subway stairs and approached Joshua. Joshua stood still, shocked by everything that was happening. 'I must be dreaming,' Joshua thought. He began to pinch himself to see if he would wake up, but to no avail.\nThe hooded figure was now in front of Joshua. He stood at least a foot taller than Joshua, and his face was concealed by his hood.\n\"I am Death,\" said the figure. \"I have come to escort you to the next life. First though, let's look at what could have been.\"\nJoshua could not even speak. He was stunned, but eventually he managed to say, \"Am I really dead?\" Death just laughed and then pointed to the opposite platform.\nJoshua looked but instead of seeing another subway platform, he saw images of his life. They were not the same though. It was him alright in the images, but it was not his life. In the images he was shown helping others and being an all around good person. This was the life of another. Joshua had been the man who shipped his parents off to a retirement home when they began to fall ill and then never visited them again, Joshua had been the man who worked as the CEO for a tobacco company for a quarter of his life, Joshua had been the lustful man, the greedy man, the envious man, the gluttonous man, the wrathful man, the lazy man, and the prideful man. \nAfter watching this alternate reality play out, Joshua looked back at Death. Death stuck out his hand and a scythe materialized out of thin air. Death grabbed hold of the scythe.\nThe sound of an approaching train alerted Joshua. When the train stopped, the doors opened and Death pushed Joshua inside.\n\"This is our train,\" said Death.\nAs they stepped on, the train began to move. A voice over the intercom said, \"Next stop, Heaven.\"\nJoshua was surprised to hear those words. The train suddenly stopped, and the doors of the train slid open. Joshua began to walk off the train, but Death wrapped his scythe around Joshua's neck and held him back.\n\"Ah, ah, ah. Ours is the next stop,\" said Death with a cold laugh.\n\n",
"This was it.\n\nI lived an average life. A wife, two kids, working as a lowly toy assembly liner, making just enough to live. I **Did** go to harvard though. hmm. That worked well for me. \n\nBut that does not matter now. Death is upon me. Maybe there is a heaven. Maybe there is nothing. I suppose im about to find out. My family surrounds me, crying, sadness, anger. My wife, my kids, my brothers and sisters. I feel my energy fleeing my body. My vision fades, and i see a white light. Then i see clouds, the sun, and.... and...... a man?\n\nI approach the man, confused. \"hello? who are you?\"\n\n\"i am the spirit you have strived for. i am the man you truly thought was perfect. I, am you. the best version of you that you could have possibly attained.\"\n\n\"i...wha-... what do you mean?\"\n\n\"before everyone goes to an afterlife, they get to see what they could have become. there best possible self. lets go down the list of flaws.\" \n\nnow just wai-\"\n\n\"born 1942, april 16th. diagnosed with A.D.D. and A.D.H.D at age 6. barely made it to high school before finally getting help from the school administrators in grade 10. passed all classes at a B+ or higher with help. graduated in 1960.\"\n\n\"While wanting to go to an acting college to pursue his love of acting discovered in 3rd grade. but you were forced to go to harvard by your family when you got the opportunity. you went after a career in law to please your parents. however, without help from the school, you passed almost every class you entered. you dropped out, and searched the world for a job to keep yourself fed. you were homeless for 10 years until the age of 31. \"\n\n\"Then, a concerned woman approached you, asking you if you wanted help. you gladly accepted, looking for help. for a few years, she took care of you, inviting you into her house. she got you a job working at a toy factory. a few years later, you married, agreeing it wasn't coincidence that she helped you off those streets.\"\n\n\"the highlight of your life was spending time with your family, out in the suburbs, in a small house. but, you spent most of your life, wasting away.\"\n\n\"Now where do you get away with judging my life!?\"\n\n\"now there is me. i married the same woman, had the same kids, but i am an actor. i wasnt homeless, and i wasnt piss poor. im sorry you lived imperfect.\"\n\nand with that, everything went black.",
"I wasn't afraid—I never was—until they put the rope around my neck. \n\nI guess when a man is about to die, his spirit braces itself. Their mind slows down and all of your emotions sort of swirl, not quite knowin' what to do with themselves. So I stood there, sweating more than I would like to admit, as my spirit was clawing around trying to get out. \n\nAnd then it did. \n\nI saw it leave my body like a snake sheds it's skin. It whirled around in a cloud of luminescent blue until resting in front of me as a person. I looked around me to see if anyone else was seein' what I was seein', but they was all standing around frozen. \n\nThe fog had finally come to a rest, and it was me! it had my nose and everything, although less broken...\n\n\"Dammit, Joel!\" I flinched as it suddenly came alive and yelled into my face. \n\n\"Wha—but—\" I stammered, tryin' to make sense of the situation. \n\n\"You had to go and get yourself lynched huh? Just had to kill the guy...\"\n\n\"Are you...me?\" \n\n\"Yes. Well, no. I'm the *you* you should've been.\"\n\n\"I should've been?\"\n\n\"Yes, should've been, but didn't become.\"\n\n\"Well...\" I just stood there wide-eyed and silent. I guess that's how most men are at the gallows, but I suppose meetin' myself wasn't quite what I had expected.\n\n\"Well I guess I could've done things a bit differently...\"\n\n\"Of course you could've. But that doesn't matter now.\"\n\nI looked down at the ground and thought about it. I guess my life sort of, well, flashed before my eyes.\n\nDropping out of school was probably my worst mistake. But my parents sure didn't help. When I got Mary pregnant, that wasn't good. I got a job though. One that kept me busy too. But I lost it soon enough, never held a job for more'n a couple years after that. \n\nI didn't mean to kill him. He was just in the way, and the boys told me to deal with him. I guess I just punched him too hard. Maybe it was meant to happen. Maybe it's better that I died.\n\n\"Yeah, doesn't matter anyways,\" I said.\n\n\"Damn...\" My spirit was staring off into nowhere now. \"Coulda really been somethin'.\" \n\n\"'scuse me?\" \n\n\"A few more years and you would have found her. You were going to come around, ya know. We can sense things like that, spirits.\"\n\n\"Wait...find who?\"\n\n\"Who do you think? Your daughter. She's been lookin' for you. She'll find you now, a bit late though.\"\n\nI was wide-eyed again. She was looking for me? No one was ever lookin' for me...\n\nSuddenly I could hear the people moving around me again. My spirit just stood in front of me without a word. I heard them pull the lever and I my stomach lurched as I fell, but that was it. Didn't feel nothin'—like fallin' asleep, really.\n\nAll I could think of was my daughter, probably more beautiful than her mom even. Out there looking for me...isn't that somethin'?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"I didn't mean to take so many pills that I died.\n\nReally, it wasn't even half the bottle. Just enough to make the pain stop and the thoughts go away. It's codeine, not heroin. I didn't want to die, but here I was, lying on the floor of my apartment on a desolate Tuesday night. My husband was off on business again. I knew that's all they were, business trips. Nothing scandalous. Nothing like I was trying to do. \n\nMy would-have-been lover broke up with me tonight, via a text message of all things. I knew from the very start it was wrong to feel for him what I did, especially when my husband had always been so supportive of me, of my depression and manic episodes and irrational behavior. I really did love my husband. He would give me the moon if he could. But he couldn't. And that's why I also loved another. I couldn't help it. \n\nHe had asked me to come and elope with him for the 50th time in a week. I had told him no, we have to wait. What we were waiting for I don't know. I couldn't ever bring myself to make a decision. Whether I chose to stay with my husband or leave with my lover, I would break someone's heart. And also my own. It sucks loving two people at once. He had texted me at 11:13 AM to say he was done waiting. It was over. I had sunk to my knees and howled like an animal. I had reached for a knife and lacerated my thighs. I had reached for the pills. And now here I am, almost dead.\n\nAs I stared into the ceiling light, glaring, blurring, shifting, I noticed someone in the corner of my vision. *Wonderful, the hallucinations are starting*, I thought. *I really am going to die alone in this damned apartment.* Alone among all the furniture and clothes my husband bought for me over the years. He would come home and find his beloved wife dead. He'd probably never get over it, the poor sod. He didn't deserve this. \n\nThe figure moved closer. She looked to be in her fifties. She had matted, dirty, thinning hair about 3 inches long, cropped shorter in some places. Her face was covered in scabs, and her limbs misshapen with the remnants of hundreds of deep gashes, those marks with which I could empathize too well. She walked with her feet turned inwards, limping painfully towards me. She was emaciated. and gaunt and her eyes were glazed over. I spoke weakly. This was the end.\n\n\"Are you death?\" The woman shook her head, her face remaining emotionless.\n\n\"No, sweetheart, I ain't.\" Her voice had a distinct redneck-ish sort of twang, and was gravelly with what must have been decades of smoking. Her affect was completely flat, like someone had ironed out her soul. \n\n\"But I wish I was dead. Wish I was you.\"\n\nI couldn't believe my fucking ears. Even drugged out of my mind I had enough energy left in me to be angry.\n\n\"I'm sorry, what? Lady, I don't know your story, but you shouldn't ask to be me. You don't know what I've been through.\"\n\nHer washed-up, wrinkled old face *almost* curved into a smile, but in a flash it was gone again. \n\n\"Yes, I do. I know exactly who you is. and I'm here ter warn you about going to see Andrew today.\"\n\nAndrew. Andrew?! The man who just broke up with me! Realization flooded my body and soul and somehow I could just *sense* that this woman was a part of me. Maybe she was a messenger from heaven. Or from hell.\n\nShe reached into her pocket and retrieved a lighter and a cigarette. She took a long drag, choking as she exhaled. As she struggled to catch her breath, she answered the questions forming in my mind.\n\n\"No, honey pie, I'm YOU.\" \n\nMy eyes went wide with shock. How in the world could this poor haggard creature be ME? She certainly wasn't half as well-spoken or well-looked-after as I was. She continued.\n\n\"I went to see Andrew, finally. I went to go live with him.\"\n\nI didn't understand. Where was the diamond ring Andy had promised us? Where were the fancy clothes and the car and the whole taking-care-of-us-forever of which he so ardently spoke?\n\n\"Did he break up with us?\"\n\nThe other me sighed, but her face betrayed no emotion. \"No. he never left me, ever. When I got there he forced me into his car, he drugged me, and then he raped me, and he sold me to men. I got addicted to the heroin he gave me. I couldn't leave. I been raped thousands of times, I been shot, I been beaten, I been choked...\" she trailed off. \n\nWe stared at each other for a long and empty moment. She continued when I wouldn't. \"This is my life. I'm just another junkie, just another whore. I was supposed to come here to warn you. You still have a husband who loves you. You still have medicine for your bipolar. You still have a fucking *bed*!\" At last her tough exterior broke and she began to openly sob and wail, making no effort to hide it in front of me.\n\n\"We both had it all!\" she groaned. \"And now we don't, neither of us don't have nothin'.\" she sunk to the floor in tears beside me. A woman more miserable than I slumped beside me on a desolate Wednesday morning, my only companion in death. A few silent tears rolled out of my own eyes as I drew my last breath. Maybe the next life would be better for both of us.",
"They say that what you think about in your last moment is the most important thing in your life. I hope that’s not true because as I lay here dying, my insides intermingled with the machinery that has kept me alive for weeks, I’m not thinking about my kids, my ex-wife, or my legacy but only about her. Even though it was years and years ago, I can still conjure up a crystal clear image of her face but slowly it begins to slip away. Her features began to dim and seem to melt into one senseless blob and then I blink and she’s no longer there. \n\nI blink again.\n\nMy hospital bed is gone and I can only see blank whiteness stretching as far as I can see. I wondered if this was heaven, hell or something in between. Then, emerging from the whiteness, I see a man walking towards me. He’s dressed in a crisp black suit with slicked back hair the way I used to wear it back in the day...\n\nIt takes a few minutes for the realization to sink in that I’m walking towards myself. Whatever that means. It feels almost as if your mirror image was suddenly no longer bound by certain physical laws of his dimension but just started to get up and walk straight out of the mirror and towards you. \n\nI approach him warily and hear myself speak.\n\n“Well, it doesn’t seem appropriate to ask 'who are you?' so I’ll start with 'what are you?' “\n\n“I’m what would have happened if you stayed with her.”\n\n“And…what is that supposed to be?”\n\n“Happy.”\n\n~~~~I actually wrote a lot more but decided just to post this intro just to gauge interest and/or see if anyone cares and/or so I don't feel like a loser writing a huge post no one cares about :(\n \n",
"It was 3 AM when the Man-Who-He-Should-Have-Been entered the room. Maita was asleep on the couch, so Alfredo was alone to meet him.\n\n\"Hi,\" Alfredo-Who-Should-Have-Been said.\n\n\"Hi, yourself. I guess it's time.\"\n\n\"Yes it is.\"\n\nAlfredo-Who-Was looked at Alfredo-Who-Should-Have-Been from head to toe. He was about fifty, the same age he was. He had a slight paunch and his shoulders a bit rounded. He had on a dark suit and his hair was combed neatly. Alfredo-Who-Should-Have-Been looked back. For a long time, they said nothing.\n\n\"Well, go on, you son-of-a-bitch,\" Alfredo-Who-Was said.\n\n\"Go on what?\" Alfredo-Who-Should-Have-Been replied.\n\n\"Go on and tell me what a great life you had, how much money you made, all the mistakes you didn't make, all the right things you did....\" Alfredo-Who-Was couldn't believe how angry he was, or why, but he was angry. \n\nAlfredo-Who-Should-Have-Been raised a finger to his lips. \"Shhhh...\" he said gently. Then he began:\n\n\"Well, if you must know. Just the highlights: I took with a degree in Science Education from Xavier University, after I decided Engineering wasn't for me. I taught in Mayor Elias Lopez Public High School right after I graduated. My students have gone on to become doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, artists, teachers, and engineers. I have a small house in Belisario Village and I drive a 2003 Honda Civic. I pull in about P600,000 a year....\"\n\nAlfredo-Who-Was stared goggle-eyed at his double. \"What?\" he sputtered. \"But...that's my life!\"\n\n\"...and as to all the right things I did, there was only one that really mattered.\" Alfredo-Who-Should-Have-Been pointed to the sleeping Maita. \n\nAlfredo-Who-Was could find nothing to say.\n\n\"Well done, good and faithful Alfredo. You've lived your life the way you should have lived it. Now come, you have a few moments to say goodbye.\"",
"My breath came to be in short bursts; machine-gun fire, staccato, whatever. It was dark in my hospital room, and my roommate was sleeping peacefully. I tried not to struggle too much, or cough too loudly- I was ready to die. The chemotherapy had only been prolonging the inevitable- the sooner I bit the big one, the better. My daughter was here with her family in a hotel, but I didn't want them to be here. It had been an agonizing week. The sooner they could cry their eyes out, hold a nice funeral, sing some songs, the sooner everyone could go back to their normal lives. My Evangeline had already been dead for 16 years- what the fuck did I have to live for, anyway? Green Forest Retirement Home? Please.\n\nA light switch flicked on in the hallway. *Fuck*, I thought to myself, and immediately tried to start dying at quarter-volume. The doorknob turned. I gritted my teeth and prepared for the intubation and the hullaballoo. *Sorry, Jeff,* I thought, for my roommate. *You won't be getting much sleep tonight.*\n\nIn walked me.\n\nNow, I knew it was me- I was wearing the same shit-eating grin that my parents, teachers, girlfriends, and wife had always teased me about. I was wearing my favorite cap, and my favorite shirt that I left in Florence in 1987, and a nice pair of New Balances that were last made when Judas Priest was still a cool band. \n\n\"Hey, sport,\" he said, and sat down on the end of my bed.\n\nI said nothing; dying really took it out of you. I desperately wanted to say something clever, but my lungs were filling with fluid. *Fuck,* I thought again.\n\nI looked at myself- and then I *really* looked at myself. I was about 30. I had huge biceps, the kind I was trying to get in high school when I lifted all those weights. Full head of hair, my teeth were whiter, and I had had surgery to get rid of my mole.\n\n\"Let me tell you what you could have been,\" started this perfect vision of me, but I wasn't having it. I hacked up a tremendous amount of blood and took a rattling breath. \n\n\"Listen here, you sack of shit,\" I coughed out, and felt my left lung collapse. \"I know what you're gonna say, and I ain't having it.\" I lost vision in my left eye. At the end of the bed, pseudo-me looked rather bemused. \"You're gonna tell me that I should have stopped drinking and taken that oil job, aren't you? I would have gotten rich and muscly and had a hotter wife, right?\" I couldn't feel my legs. The end was near. \"You could have been great-\" pseudo-me said, and I angrily interrupted him again, this time with a lot of vomit, and quite a bit more blood. \"As far as I'm concerned,\" I groaned, \"whatever I could have become, it would have been a person that would have visited himself on his own deathbed to tell him how great he would have been. Well, fuck you!\" Now I was completely blind. I think I was also having a stroke, because my speech became rather slurred. \n\n\"I had a lloooonngg lliffe, and it wash rrreeallly greeat.\" I was quite ready for death, but psuedo-me was stubborn, too, and I heard him lean in. \" You could have been powerful. You could have held millions of people's lives in your hand...\"\n\n\"Oh, give it a fucking rest,\" I said, and died."
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[WP] You are a brilliant mathematician who is suffering memory loss. You now stand before a classroom of 300 students to teach a one hour of Calculus III and you can't remember a thing...
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[
"\"Ah yes,\" I said, glancing back at the board. I'd written something up there moments ago. If only I could remember what it was. *Cal*? What started with cal?\n\nCalcium? Was this a lecture on calcium?\n\nI was holding notes but scrawled on the top sheet was a warning. \"They will fire you if you fuck up.\"\n\nI flipped a page through. Someone coughed nervously as I read the large, scribbled word on the next sheet.\n\n\"DONT.\"\n\nNo apostrophe. Just a full stop and three underlines. It was important that I not get fired. I could understand that. After all, I probably had to but food sometime. Jobs continue to be the main source of money for most people.\n\n\"So,\" I started. Loud and strong. Confidence. \"Bones! Bones are the most important bit of...\"\n\nI flung an arm up dramatically at the *Cal* word. Someone laughed, someone else coughed. I spun around, realising I needed to read it.\n\nCalculus.\n\nThen three lines. \n\n\"Because, you see,\" I said, thinking on my feet, \"while bones are the structure of you calculus is the structure of the maths you use to make sure that the... Numbers.\"\n\nI smiled slightly. Someone else coughed. The way they do when things are just plain awkward. This wasn't going well so far.\n\n\"You can break a bone,\" I whispered into my microphone, \"but you can never break maths.\"\n\nI shuffled my notes carefully again. One was a warning, the other was a single word. The third...?\n\nA timetable. \n\nThere was my name. Advanced Calc. 9am... \n\nOh no.\n\n9am till 12.\n",
"Behind his back, students would make fun of Prof. Hilarion. At one time, he had been the sharpest and most creative minds in the university (nominated twice for the Fields), and certainly one of the most beloved. But now...\n\nAt first there were the little incidents -- losing his office keys, misplacing books. Those we could chalk up to absent-mindedness associated with genius. Then little by little it got worse -- missed classes, unchecked papers, and long absences. The worst, perhaps, was when they found him wandering around town in a haze, wearing his usual sweater on top but nothing but his boxers below. The police brought him back without pressing charges. The younger students (and therefore the more cruel) began calling him \"Prof. No-Pants\" and \"Dr. Hilarious.\"\n\nPerhaps it would have been best if the school had let Prof. Hilarion go at that point, but the old man regained some measure of lucidity and he was a few months away from retirement. Dean Pilapil thought we could \"monitor the situation\" to see how it developed. And then it happened.\n\nProf. Hilarion was due for a lecture in Calculus III, a large class of three hundred students held in Tabora Hall. The moment he shuffled in, I already knew something was wrong. It was the glassy eyed stare, the slack jawed look of bewilderment. Prof. Hilarion didn't seem to know where he was. He let out a low moan. Not a few students sniggered. \"Oh, oh, here it comes,\" said some. \"Bet you a five he'll take off his pants.\"\n\nAs the oldest student in the class, I felt a pang of sympathy for Prof. Hilarion. My late grandfather had suffered Alzheimer's, so I knew the pain and embarrassment an attack would cause. I walked up to the lectern where he stood.\n\n\"Prof, would you like me to take you home?\"\n\nA flicker of recognition flashed through Prof. Hilarion's face, and it was gone again. Prof. Hilarion moaned again, and gesticulated, groping for across the table. Already there was outright laughter in the class.\n\n\"What is it, Prof? What are you looking for?\" I asked. Then, I saw. He was reaching for a whiteboard marker. I uncapped it and placed it in his hand. Again there was a brief moment of sanity as gratitude flashed in his face. \n\nAt that moment, I knew what I had to do.\n\n(work calls. to be continued....)",
"\"I'm sorry students. I seemed to have suffered from a mental lapse, possibly even a stroke. Class is dismissed this session, I shall immediately contact a hospital. If any of you would be so kind as to escort me to the nurse's office so i don't lose my way i would appreciate it. If i remain incapacitated for the remainder of the year then i'm sure Professor Nerdstrom will take over this class for me. Class dismissed.\"\n\n"
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[WP] A visual story. One that has none or limited dialogue. Anything that is or could be potentially beautiful.
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[
"His skin turned to stone with all the cruelty that impaled him through his life. Each jab with crude spears made it harder for him to move, and the few starlit sparkles of kindness did nothing to stem the curse of atrophy. Soon he was bound by rock and mortar forced to watch the world the pedestal of sorrow. He sat in his mind, watching through his eyes all the things that happened in life. Closing the doors of childhood and stepping into new worlds people weren't demonic like the children he grew up with, but the damage was already done. The gargoyle would trade smiles and laughter with the new good in exchange for never seeing the ones that made him light up again. Forever trapped in stone in the same stagnant spot he stays. In order to grasp freedom he retreats in his mind, a whole world all to himself but with its flaws. He runs his fingers across a monument and watches as it turns to ash with embracing and icy winds. He wondered when the last time it was a warm summer breeze. Step, step, step, between grass, asphalt, and concrete every step deletes his world and leaves whiteness that spreads. His empty empire turns to dust all around him placing him in purgatory again. He has no idea how many times he ended up here, yet he builds his world again each time trying to make it beautiful again, more trees, more flowers, bigger buildings, grander monuments but it always misses something, and that something is what makes it all he creates evaporate. He doesn't know what it feels like to be a person anymore, he doesn't know how to feel. Forever and ever he will be a statue.",
"A ray of warm light lands on Steve's face. Another sunny day. Steve instinctively turns away from the sunshine and he is comfortable again. Just as he settles in his new posture, a blaring noise screams 5 inches away from his head. Jolted by this sudden noise, he slams his hand on the ever annoying alarm clock to get 5 more minutes in bed.\n\nA nudge in the back was enough to keep Steve from drifting off again. When he didn’t budge, another nudge came, only more forceful. The nudges kept on coming, and at the end, Steve had enough and opened his eyes. His fingers reached across the bed to turn off the “Nudger” of the MORNINGRISE3000. He is already regretting his purchase of this machine, supposedly a substitute for those who are single and in need of a morning push.\n\nThe blinds are lifted with the push of another button on the MORNINGRISE3000 console. Not for the first time, the blinding yellow sun greets Steve with a harsh stare. From the 13th floor of his apartment complex, everything looks beautiful. The palm trees are moving in the wind, the waves are hitting the shore rhythmically, and the sands on the beach are inviting him to join them.\n\nWith another touch on the console, the coffee maker prepares his coffee and breakfast. Bacon and scrambled eggs are his favourite. Steve drags himself from the window and decided he should get himself ready for work. As he walks out the door, the bedroom darkens. The sun no longer hangs in the sky, and the beach with lapping waves ceased to exist. \n\nSteve could only hear the static of dust particles ramming into the residential complex magnetic shield, and the echoes of the wind are already playing in his mind. His routine shower was particularly cold this morning, and his only thought was that beach he had seen a million times out that window. His coffee was tasteless, as usual. A drink once meant to be an enjoyment is now merely a brain enhancing chemical mixed to look like the golden brown liquid that men once loved. \n\nWithout missing a beat in his routine, the closet opened with his shirt of the day just as he finished his last sip. Quickly slipping into his gear, he walked onto the door mat and the computer scanned his suit to ensure all seals are tight. In a few seconds, the screen read OK and a green light lit up beside it. Steve pressed AIRLOCK on the touchscreen and a tube instantly encased him and sent him down. On his way down, Steve look a deep breath of compressed air, and waited for the tube to unseal.\n",
"Fireballs rose out of the jungle, briefly illuminating the canopy through the rain before darkness resumed. The soldier pushed forward on the stick, accelerating his Apache forward through the canyon. It was a wide canyon with plenty of room to maneuver, but kept the chopper off any radar. Not that a few drug lords hiding in the jungle would have radar.\n\nJerking the stick right, the craft leaned and swung around a canyon edge. Depressing the red button on the stick, tracers lit up the night, followed by more fireballs breaching the canopy. Two lines of tracers opened up on the left, Blackfyres two and three. The lines converged as they traced left through the jungle, until another set of fireballs shot up. Radio silence was mandated, but radios were redundant, they had flown long enough to know what they were thinking.\n\nSweeping the Apache up over where the clearing was supposed to be, the missile guard flipped up once more. Depressing the trigger underneath caused multiple rockets to shoot out into the buildings. Silhouettes of bodies were visible in front of of the fire now. Without trees in the way they could see a few people run around on fire. Drug lords, human traffickers, the worst of the worst.\n\nThe stick depressed forward again, moving onto the next target.",
"As I start fastening the wings to my arms, my head begins to spin, and the clouds of doubt milk over my eyes. The wings’ frame is sleek stained wood, with the smooth contours and light veneer of a true master’s work. The noiseless hinges, all oiled joints and burnished bronze, are so unlike the creaking knees and cracking elbows of their maker, popping with every step he takes. The most remarkable part, however, is the feathers.\n\n\nDay and night he would lie in wait, stooped over intricate traps, sacrificing his meals to lure and ensnare the nearby gulls, and cast their plumage in hot wax. It took several months of this deliberate trapping and painstaking construction until the first pair had been completed, and weeks again for the second to achieve his critical approval. His pair is mottled and grey, with feathers of onyx and charcoal, dirty and unbefitting, like an irreparable blemish on a great artist’s drawing, marring its glorious perfection.\n\n\nBut mine is different. For mine he took greater care, choosing only the purest whites and glistening golds, assuring that I would look the very angel of deliverance he sees me to be. Having never seen the sun, my body is polished Parian marble, the wings brilliant gilded alabaster. Indeed, these must be the very wings that adorned Nike as she flew above the great Olympian wargrounds, playing her clarion of triumph for the victorious gods and heroes. \n\n\nAnd yet uncertainty persists, for ingenious as he may be, my father must know men were not meant to soar. I envision myself approaching the precipice of the alcove where we’ve been imprisoned, my slender body afire with anticipation. I take three steps back, and with my arms outstretched I sprint toward the edge. As one leg crosses over the threshold between the infinite heavens and the bone-splitting stones below, my naked foot feels the rough lip of the crag, and my sole caresses the ground one last time as I leap, ascending higher and higher. Then, at the very apex of my elated elevation, I spread my wings, embracing the air and the sea breeze, and plummet, my entire being devoured by the jagged teeth of the ravenous sea, wake foaming white, gold, and red.\n\n\nAs the thought crosses my mind, my stomach starts to coil, writhing tense and serpentine through the cavities of my body and tingling through to my extremities. I have no death wish. I know what fate awaits me should I fail to take flight at my departure. Though there may be glory and remembrance to be found, I do not desire to be remembered as the tragic hero, the boy who had the temerity to tempt the ever willing Fates, and dropped from the sky like a stone unwanted, forever relegated to the world of parable as an example of the follies of hubris.\n\n\nAnd yet, is it better to live in the misery of imprisonment, taunted by the sight of rain and the braying of sea lions? On nights when the wind blows right, I can reach out and just barely feel the drops caress my fingertips, longing to envelop me in their soft, glistening sheen. I am resolute. I must escape. I must overcome this serpent, this coiling hydra making mockery of my mettle.\n\n\nThe mind is an awesome foe. Where one fear is vanquished, two more doubts surface. But my father is Daedalus, the greatest mind ever to live, and I am his son. I must laugh at any thought that dares to doubt his brilliance. The reverence I hold for my father’s keen mind and tireless determination ignites a fierce flame of pride, which burns the stumps of slain doubt. I reject the hydra. I must escape this existence.\n\n\nI peer over the the precipice at the crashing waves. I take three steps back, admiring the craft of my father. I take one look back at the squalor of our den, send a prayer to the gods, and with all my resolve, I dash to the verge.\n\n\nAnd jump.",
"I wrote the following piece a few years ago; I'm not much of a writer these days. I thought it might be appropriate for this prompt, though, and I always wanted to share this piece at some point in time, even if I don't like it as much as I did when writing it.\n\n***\n\nI can't remember what she looked like on that day, only that she was beautiful.\n\nI asked for a hug as she left - it seemed out of place, a grudging token of whatever flicker of feelings lay broken between us. I fought the urge to hold on for a moment longer, but it was too late - with a condescending pat on the back, she had let me know that it was time to let go, and so she stepped away towards the car.\n\nIn my memory her eyes were grey, as grey as the muted emotion I felt, as grey as the chilling winter clouds that swirled above us on that day. Her eyes always seemed to reflect the sky - in spring they danced with a lighthearted periwinkle, in summer a beautiful baby blue, all innocence and happiness. But in autumn they faded from brilliant silver to troubled ash grey, and now, in the winter... now, her eyes were as cool as steel, as silent as the sun.\n\nFeeling all too sharply the cold bite of winter on my arms hanging awkwardly, I reached out again with a question. She rolled her eyes, and a smile came to her face, but it wasn't a smile that warmed any longer, colored with an edge of mockery. Of course, she had said, with the smile and the confidence of one long over the past.\n\nI watched her go. It was quiet, save for the hard rhythm of my breathing, and for the soft rhythm of footsteps.\n\nShe pulled open the door, her legs swinging in graceful arcs before she disappeared behind inches of steel and plastic and glass that separated me from her, my gaze from her image. She was gone in moments, grey eyes and grey walls and grey clouds steadily pulling away, though I knew that it was more than simply distance that separated us.\n\nHer smile lingered in my mind as I wandered back towards my empty house, but it was her voice that I remembered most clearly. A hint of derision in her smile, but in her voice I felt the opposite - I felt something small, something melancholy, something... grey. Just as small and melancholy and grey as I had felt for even asking the question, from her leaving like this as much as I had felt for watching her leave.\n\nI wonder if it was real; if she had felt it too; if she had let out a broken sigh in the car with her mother as she wondered aloud if this was the way things were going to be from now on, if it was always going to be like this. I wonder now if she remembers that day as I did, or if our memories now are colored by the wounds we inflicted upon each other in the following months, or if she even remembers that day at all."
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You note, sadly, that someone has been here before.
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[WP] You are a member of a society far into the future. You were just sent in your civilizations first manned exploration of the moon, and you are shocked to see the modern flag and lunar gear from a society far in the past.
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[
"A crowd filled the auditorium. Their antennae buzzed with excitement. The Prime Minister of the Galaxy was about to announce the annual award for the Greatest Explorer in the Galaxy.\n\nSuch was the prestige of this award that every man, woman, child, and larvae stopped whatever they were doing to tune in and witness its presentation. Children were released from school early. Asteroid miners were given the day off. The intragalactic civil war called a ceasefire.\n\nEveryone was watching.\n\nThe stagelights came up. The audience cheered. A snakelike creature with a head not unlike Vladimir Putin’s slithered towards the microphone.\n\n“My fellow Andromedans,” the snake said, “Today is a day of celebration. Our glorious galaxy is full of beautiful and wondrous planets and moons. And we have the greatest explorers in the Universe exploring them.”\n\nHe cleared his throat. “But there is one explorer, who stands head and shoulders above the rest. This year, the award for the Greatest Explorer in the Galaxy goes to…”\n\nThere was a drumroll.\n\nDr. Zonks sat in the front row, wearing a white labcoat over his dark blue skin. He rubbed his nose nervously. Did his hair look okay? He couldn’t believe it was really happening. He was finally going to win!\n\nDr. Blastalast sat next to him, also wearing a white labcoat. His skin glowed green. He was gripping his handrest so tightly that his green knuckles had turned white. This was his crowning achievement. His moment of victory.\n\nThe Prime Minister unfolded a piece of paper. “Dr. Zonks!” he shouted.\n\nDr. Zonks jumped to the air jubilantly and walked towards the stage. Dr. Blastalast opened his mouth in horror. What was this? He had been robbed!\n\nDr. Blastalast got to his feet and chased after Dr. Zonks.\n\nDr. Zonks walked onto the stage and accepted the trophy from the Prime Minister. He was about to begin his acceptance speech, when Dr. Blastalast’s shout tore through the applause.\n\n“NO!” Dr. Blastalast cried.\n\nSilence fell. Everyone turned their eyes and antennae towards him.\n\n“You are not,” Dr. Blastalast said, “The greatest explorer in the galaxy. I AM!”\n\nDr. Zonks turned to face him. “Oh,” he said, “It’s you Dr. Blastalast. My old nemesis. Are you challenging me?”\n\n“Yes,” Dr. Blastalast said, “I challenge you!”\n\nDr. Zonks smiled. “Wonderful,” he said, “The winner gets this trophy,” he said. He turned towards the Prime Minister and said, “Here, hold this,” and tossed the trophy at him. The snake bobbled it and it bounced down to the stage. No one appeared to notice.\n\n“And the loser,” Dr. Zonks said, “Never gets to explore again.”\n\nThe silence felt like a black hole. No one in the galaxy breathed.\n\n“Never,” Dr. Zonks said. “The loser has to stay inside his own house for the rest of his life.”\n\nDr. Blastalast turned pale. “Forever?” he said.\n\n“Yeah,” Dr. Zonks said, “Are you scared?”\n\nDr. Blastalast snarled. “Of course not,” he said.\n\n“How will you compete?” The Prime Minister asked, inserting himself into the conversation.\n\n“The traditional challenge,” Dr. Zonks said. He tossed a holographic projector to the middle of the stage. Suddenly, the auditorium was a Planetarium full of slowly spinning planets and moons.\n\n“Throw a dart,” Dr. Zonks said, tossing a holo-dart to Dr. Blastalast, “Wherever it lands, that’s the target. You and I race to the target. Whoever gets there and explores the planet first wins.”\n\nDr. Blastalast nodded. He reared back his arm to throw. His form was terrible. Obviously he didn’t go out to pubs very often.\n\nWHEE! the dart flew through the air. PLOP! It landed on a tiny gray speck at the edge of the projection.\n\n“Where’s that?” Dr. Blastalast said.\n\nDr. Zonks checked his holo-screen. “It’s called… ‘The Moon’” he said, a puzzled expression on his face.\n\n“What Moon?” Dr. Blastalast said.\n\n“**The** Moon,” Dr. Zonks said.\n\n“There’s a moon called ‘the’ moon?” Dr. Blastlast said.\n\n“Guess so,” Dr. Zonks said, “Maybe a kid named it.”\n\nDr. Blastalast nodded. That sounded about right.\n\n“Okay!” The Prime Minister shouted to be heard. “Now I will give the countdown for the start of the race! Three… Two…”\n\nDr. Zonks and Dr. Blastalast sprinted for the exits.\n\n“One…” the Prime Minister said, “Oh. Okay then. Go!”\n\nxxxx\n\nxxxx INTERLUDE xxxx\n\nxxxx\n\n\nThree months later, Dr. Zonks awoke from his cryogenic sleep. The control panel of his spaceship hummed softly. He looked out and saw the endless field of stars. And there! Below him! It was The Moon.\n\nThe cratered gray surface called to him. It had silently stood watch over the stars, undisturbed for centuries. And now he would claim it for the Galactic Empire, and be showered in glory upon his return. And that annoying Dr. Blastalast would shut up for good.\n\nWHOOSH. His spaceship landed on the surface, sending up a cloud of lingering moon dust.\n\nDr. Zonks screwed on his space-bubble helmet. He released the hatch to his lemon-shaped spaceship. HISS. He tentatively reached one golden boot towards the dusty gray soil.\n\nThe dusty gray soil of **The** Moon.\n\n“One small step for me…” he said, “A giant leap for my kind.” He stepped down.\n\n“Ouch!” a voice said.\n\nDr. Zonks looked down. Oh my, he thought. He appeared to have stepped on a native’s head.\n\n“Are you okay?” Dr. Zonks said, peering down at the little man. The little man was only six feet tall, if that. He wore a bulbous glass helmet and a white spacesuit. There was a flag on his chest—red and white stripes with a blue field of white stars in the corner.\n\n“What are you doing here?” The little man said, “And why are you so big?”\n\n“I’m an explorer,” Dr. Zonks said, “I have come to explore this place. I was under the impression that it was unexplored.”\n\n“Hah,” the little man said, “Hardly. I’m Terry. I’m a tour operator here.”\n\n“Tour operator?” Dr. Zonks said, eyes widening.\n\n“Yup,” Terry said, “And it’s your lucky day. Today is the ten-thousandth anniversary of the first guy ever setting foot on this place. The whole city is holding a celebration.”\n\n“The whole city?” Dr. Zonks said, gaping.\n\n“Yessir,” Terry said, “And everyone wants to get front-row seats to the re-enactment ceremony. But I’m the only guy who has them.”\n\nHe gave Dr. Zonks a conspiratorial look. “I can cut you a deal,” he whispered thickly.\n\nDr. Zonks looked at him in puzzlement. Did this count as exploring?\n\n“Just for you,” Terry said, “No one else.”\n\nDr. Zonks thought it over. Yes, he decided. If he was doing something that only he could do, something that Dr. Blastalast definitely couldn’t do, then it counted as exploring. He would explore this re-enactment ceremony and then return to the homeworld to collect his prize.\n\nLaser-lights danced across the sky. Loudspeakers blared pump-up music that could be heard for miles. A never-ending mass of people swarmed towards the Moon City’s Football Stadium. Inside, the stadium was electrified with ecstatic Moon-people. Beverage vendors walked the aisles, yodeling out the names of their drinks. Children climbed atop their parents’ shoulders. Couples asked strangers to take photos of them in front of the main stage. Pickpockets lurked in the shadows, pretending to tie their shoes.\n\nA cascade of fireworks shot into the sky.\n\n“Ladies and Gentlemen,” A voice boomed, “Please remove your hats. For the playing of… our National Anthem!”\n\nA giant flag unfurled from the top of the stadium. Stars and Stripes.\n\nEveryone stood. Terry stood. Dr. Zonks looked around at everyone and eventually got to his feet.\n\nEveryone except Dr. Zonks sang. They sang quite loudly, but they weren’t exactly in key.\n\nThey sat back down.\n\n“Amazing, right?” Terry said, “I told ya.”\n\nDr. Zonks smiled politely. It was certainly… an experience.\n\nA shape appeared high above the stadium.\n\n“This is it,” Terry said, “The re-enactment.”\n\nA song called 'The Final Countdown' began to play on the loudspeakers.\n\n“Houston!” the loudspeakers blared, “Houston, this is Eagle Lander. We are approaching the surface.”\n\nThe object in the sky descended. It appeared to be some kind of cave-man spaceship. Covered in tinfoil. But the audience loved it. They furiously snapped photos of the object as it descended. They cheered. \n\nThe object slowed its descent, ejecting off a section of its bulk. The crowd screamed with delight.\n\nThe object extended a set of landing feet. They reached down towards the stage.\n\nThe awful 'Final countdown' song crescendoed.\n\nCHOO. The legs buckled as they contacted the stage. The primitive spaceship bounced a little. It came to a stop.\n\n“Houston,” the loudspeakers blared, “The Eagle has landed!”\n\nThe drum-track of 'the final countdown' blared out of the speakers, rumbling the audience's seats with overwhelming bass.\n\nThe crowd threw their hats into the air. Couples kissed. Single people leapt into the air. Grumpy people smiled a little.\n\nDr. Zonks shook his head. These people were weird. Someone behind him jumped so vigorously that they spilled beer on him.\n\nA hatch of the spaceship opened. A guy in a white spacesuit floated out. He said, “That’s one small step for man…”\n\nSuddenly, an enormous purple spaceship blotted out the sun.\n\nWOOP! It came diving down towards the stage.\n\nSMASH! It crushed the primitive spaceship to bits. The guy in the white spacesuit was flung to the ground.\n\nWHOOSH! The purple ship’s hatch opened. Dr. Blastalast stepped out. He looked at the crowd in shock.\n\n“What are all you people doing here?” Dr. Blastalast asked, “I thought this planet was unexplored.”\n\nThe human astronaut staggered to his feet. He pointed a finger at Dr. Blastalast.\n\n“What are you doing!?” he said through the loudspeaker, “You ruined the re-enactment!”\n\nThe crowd was booing.\n\n\n“You’re not even human,” the astronaut said, “You’re like twelve feet tall. You’re an alien. What are you doing in our solar system?”\n\n“I-I” Dr. Blastalast said, “I’m exploring.”\n\n“This,” the astronaut said, “Is post-colonialist exploitation! People of The Moon, listen to me!”\n\nThe crowd was hanging on his every word.\n\n“This alien wants to try to conquer us again,” the astronaut said, “Are we going to let that happen?”\n\nPeople were clambering atop the stage. They swarmed around Dr. Blastalast, dozens of them standing on his ship, tugging at his helmet, grabbing onto his tail.\n\n“Aaah!” Dr. Blastalast screamed, falling backwards. The humans leapt on him, tearing him to pieces.\n\n“Oh my,” Dr. Zonks said. He gave one last look at the hill of people on top of Dr. Blastalast’s body. “Goodbye Terry,” Dr. Zonks said. He shoved his way back through the crowd and out of the stadium.\n\nHe sprinted towards his spaceship and took off. What an odd civilization. No wonder they weren’t part of the Galactic Federation.\n\nHe charted a route to the homeworld and fell into a deep, frozen sleep.\n\n\nxxxx\n\nxxxx INTERLUDE NUMERO DEUX xxxx\n\nxxxx\n\n\n\nThree months later, he arrived.\n\nThe Prime Minister held an ostentatious ceremony. The stadium was packed with aliens of a thousand different species. School and work were cancelled for everyone. Sports matches were indefinitely paused for the ceremony.\n\nDr. Zonks walked proudly down the aisle, eager to be handed his trophy again. The snakelike Prime Minister smiled fawningly at him. Zonks climbed the stairs, waving at cameras, audience members, and inanimate objects.\n\nSuddenly, a white object appeared in the sky above the stadium.\n\nWOOP! It came diving towards the stage. It was shaped like Texas.\n\nSMASH! It crashed on top of Dr. Zonks and the Prime Minister. They were pinned underneath the spaceship with only their faces sticking out.\n\nWHOOSH! The Texas-shaped spaceship’s hatch opened.\n\nA human stepped out, holding a red white and blue flag in his hand. He waved the flag in the air. He stepped his foot down from the spaceship. His boot landed atop Dr. Zonk’s head.\n\n“That’s one small step for man,” the astronaut said. His other boot landed atop the Prime Minister’s head. “One giant leap for mankind.”\n"
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Depression, schizophrenia, OCD, they're all contagious. Write about whatever your little heart desires.
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[WP] Describe to me a world where mental health disorders are contagious.
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"They are contagious.\n\nLook around you.\n\nAll things related to living are replicating fractals, and notions are no exception.\n\nNeuronal impulse patterns, brain structure, germs of various types.\n\nHumans see the world through the lens of their bodies, and then their bodies craft the world around them in their own self-image.\n\nThis is what OCD is, a greedy thought trying to escape the mind of the thinker and search for new hosts, creating excessive order to alter what's perceived as a normal level of order for those around them.\n\nDepression is intractible, and we are fortunate that its life cycle is self-limiting.\n\nAddiction is a symbiote, usually a plant trying to increase the priority that human pollinators place on reproducing it.\n\nHaven't you wondered why it is schizophrenic patients seem so eerie and surreal?\n\nHave you considered why they are unplaceably eerie and not merely frightening because of the fact that they're dangerous and unpredictable?\n\nWe live in a fog of disorders, every one of us, and it is impossible to tell where objective reality ends and subjective observation begins.\n\nYou grow up, and develop your mental immune system, and are considered to be not only biologically but psychologically mature.\n\nAs though there were a difference between the two.",
"We make a stop at 5th and Patterson. A few kids with backpacks looking like 21st century cyborgs with their plaster white ear-buds and eyes glued to LCD screens, enter through the front door and force their way into the already crowded bus. The front end of the 403 is so stuffed that the crowd is practically suffocating the bus driver and I question if their lungs can even expand enough to breath in the already stale air. \n\nAn older woman enters from the middle and takes a step in my direction, but a middle-aged man in a light-grey suit stops her movement with his briefcase and whispers something in her ear. They both glance in my direction. She moves closer to the crowd. The group of Monday commuters is starting to look more and more like a group of emperor penguins huddling together for warmth in the intense arctic winter. In the back, where I sit, are eight empty seats.\n\nI can't help but feel guilty. I sometimes fantasize how life would be if I was paranoid. Even Schizophrenics have their encounters with thrill-seekers, oftentimes teenagers or drug addicts looking for quick fix, something that will let them escape, or even appreciate reality. But Depression isn't contagious like other mental illnesses. Whereas an individual may suffer a momentary bout of paranoia or anxiety, if one were to catch depression the illness stays with them for life. They have their moments. Moments where the individual might not feel so empty. Moments where they may even feel fulfilled, but the moments never last. \n\nWe make a stop at 5th and Clinton. More people enter from the back, the man in the grey-suit, the unofficial bouncer of club Metro, herds them in, filling the empty compartments of the people now shuffling out the front. A young woman rolls her eyes at me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. \n\nWhen I get off at 5th and Cleveland the bus breathes a sigh of relief. I look back as the passengers fill the empty seats. I see a woman carrying a small child wipe the seat I was occupying with a baby wipe. I pull up the hood of my jacket and light a cigarette, then I make my way down the back alley. My employer insists that I enter through the back entrance. I pull a lanyard from my pocket and pick the longer of two keys off my key-ring and open the back door. So few people enter here they haven't even bothered to make an automated entry. I take an unnecessary glance at the smaller key on the chain that once belonged to my now broken bike lock that accompanied my now stolen bike. A brief wave of bitterness washes over as I think of riding the bus.\n\nAt the top of the stairwell is the back entrance to the writer's room: my catharsis, my salvation, the one place I feel whole. Brian is the only other person that has arrived early. He greets me with a smile, his eyes glazed and bloodshot, his hair frayed and disheveled. Across his neck is a rainbow assortment of different illness identification cards which he acquired before the public was made aware of the contagion. He's completely insane, but he's a hell of a writer. I take a seat at the opposite end of the table, feeling guilty for avoiding him, unconsciously touching the blue card hanging around my own neck. \n\nWhen Garret and Joanie make their way in five minutes to eight they take the two seats surrounding me. They are the closest I ever get to human contact. Garret is sixty with a salt and pepper beard. His face carries the kindest eyes and softest smile. He is always gentle. He is always pleasant. Joanie is what some consider, obnoxious, but I found her to be hilarious. She has a way of creating humor from the most unpleasant set of circumstances. I would have married her, but of all her promiscuity, she rarely took men as partners, and the thought of an intimate relationship made her, “want to hang myself.”\n\nI sometimes wonder how people would have handled contagious mental illnesses if they had developed in the 50s. Would mental hospitals be overfilled with patients seeking the barbaric process of electroshock therapy? Would half the population wander around as walking vegetables, victims of botched lobotomies? Or would it have been exploited? In my mind I fantasize a scenario in which patient zero, Ernest Hemingway, single handedly prevents the Cuban missile crisis by involuntarily infecting the population with severe suicidal depression. The villagers jumping from rooftops. The children, walking hand-in-hand into the gulf of Mexico, a charismatic cult leader shepherding them, a ceremonial noose around his neck. Soon the idea manifests into a story: plot, symbolism, character development. In five minutes I've written a skit that will only ever exist in my mind. I know it will never get past the sensors. Joanie might be the only other person that would find it funny. When Carl arrives we get to work, and the half-assed script for Friday's show gets passed around. I see Brian has already added his notes; indecipherable wording lines the border in black ink. I can barely make out the cover page: The Friday Night Comedy Hour, third draft. \n\nWhen I exit the building at five past seven the sun hangs low, it's orange light silhouetting the buildings in the western horizon. The crisp air and cool breeze of September somehow feel welcoming, and I option to walk rather than suffer the social isolation that is public transportation. I consider waking up an hour earlier and walking to work, but the thought of losing an hour to my already deprived sleep schedule grants me a flash of anxiety, and I tuck the thought in the back of my mind. I pull up the hood of my jacket and light a cigarette. Few people are walking at this hour. An elderly couple on my side of the street catch a glimpse of the blue card slapping across my torso. They approach the crosswalk in a frantic state, their arthritic fingers smash the button repeatedly. I'm still a half a block away when they half jog, half run to the other side of 5th. So be it. \n\nSometimes I'm proud of it. I'll begin to think that my suffering is but the consequence of being given the gift of a deeper understanding. A more intense reality. Maybe it's those we deem 'normal' that are suffering under the delusion. Do they experience life from every angle? Do they dare perceive the world with even a fraction of the same acuity? Do they notice every glance, every cough, every inflection, every idiosyncrasy? Are the oblivious to the suffering of the world? Or do they just not care? Do they realize this is all meaningless? \n\nThen I get angry. Then I hold onto that anger, I harness it, I let it build. I am not the one who should feel ashamed. The feeling is short lived.\n\nAfter another sleepless night I wake up an hour early. My bed is my haven. In the chill morning it is warm. It is safe. I hit the snooze on my alarm. I hit the snooze again. Soon I am running late. I dig through a pile of dirty laundry lying on the floor of my studio apartment. I douse myself in cologne. When I'm on the ground floor I realize I forgot to brush my teeth again. I board the bus through the back entrance. A few people near the door exhale a huff of frustration, the few sitting in the back migrate towards the center. I take my seat in the back and throw in a pair of headphones, deciding to ignore it. Deciding to just ignore it. I close my eyes for a minute of rest. \n\nWhen I wake I'm on the third song of my playlist. A pair of eyes, blue, feminine, are staring at my own. Her thin lips mouth wordlessly. I pause the song and remove the headphone from my left ear.\n\n“I'm sorry?” \n\n“What are you listening to?”\n\nI shuffle in my seat. \n\n“What was that?” I ask, despite hearing her the first time.\n\n“What band are you listening to?”\n\nI look down at the screen and realize it's some German electronic artist of which I'm embarrassed to say, not because of my music preference, but out of fear of mispronouncing the name. I glance at the crowd of people in the center of the bus. It's remarkably scarce. Their is even an empty seat. I look back at her. Her eyebrows are raised in a mixture of curiosity and slight concern. I realize she is pretty and my neck involuntarily spasms, jerking my head away.\n\n“You probably shouldn't be sitting here,” I say to the floor. \n\nThen I raise the blue card from around my neck.\n\n“I'm a hazard.”\n\nShe laughed. Then she put her hand on my shoulder.\n\n“That's okay,” she said, her voice getting softer. \n\nThen she smiled.\n\n\n\n\t\n\n\t"
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[FF] Write a story about a person late for work as quickly as you can.
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"As I raced my bicycle across the bridge I couldn't help but fixate on the thought of getting off, throwing the piece of junk down into the greenish brown waters down below. It was a nice mental image. I would watch as the waves fought for the scraps of metal, and then I would follow it. After all, in the worst case scenario I would die, and in the best case scenario I would get three months in the hospital. I was insured for both of those things, no worries there. But my car? No, my car wasn't insured, not anymore, fucking piece of shit insurance companies. Getting rammed into a lamppost wouldn't get me a dime if I didn't catch the numbers of the guy speeding away from the scene of the crime, because apparently checking to see if I'm injured or missing a head is not a priority in those kinds of situations. My boss would understand an extended three month stay at a hospital. Even if he didn't I hadn't taken a vacation in two years. So fuck him. But not being able to get to work on time because I've lost my car? He was already looking for reasons to fire me, and I'd be damned if I'd give him one on a silver fucking platter. But I kept going, day in and day out, on my rusty old bike. Late, so late, so very very fucking late. ",
"**Posting from smartphone for added effect**\n\nWhy is it so bright outside? The clock said 6:30 a second Avon ah crap! It's 7:54! I have to be at work in 6 minutes. It's a 49 minute commute!=. Shit. Can I brush my teeth? Ewww. Morning breath. My hair is messed up. I'll comb it with my fingersm .good enough. find a shirt. Got a shirt. Pants from yesterdaym. Fuck whee are the socks. They don't match. Whatever. Tie the shoes. Wallet. Phone. Keys. Lights off. Thermostat up. Kiss the cat goodbye. Fuck I'm late. Get in the car. Station 101.1. Drive to main road. Of course there is traffic. I'm supposed to be there!! Will the boss call my cell? Comin! 40 mins late. Park the car. Honk honk. Swiftly walk. Woman in front of me. She's cute. Don't be a creep. Elevator was on the top floor. Give me a break. Comoooon. Get in. Floor 6. Ding ding. Walk into work.\n\n\"Good Morning!\"\n\"Morning.\"\n\nRun to my desk. Boot it up. Try to blend in. Yeah I've been here a while.... Yup.\n\n*cough*\n\n",
"He was going to miss work; he just knew it... usually after snoozing the alarm he could just about will himself to move, but it was really difficult this morning for some reason, the fog just wouldn't lift. \"This time!\" he thought and willed his body to sit up, but there was just nothing there. \n\nHe stared along the cold tiles of the bathroom floor and watched the branches of blood trailing between them, pooling under the sink. \"Why can't I just.. why can't I just, get... Up?\" ",
"My mouth is dry and the pressure behind my eyes looms even before I open them. As the darkness lifts, I can feel the warmth of the afternoon sun on my face. I feel nauseous. My world is a bright white, confusing blur. I fumble for the water bottle by the bed, bring it to my face and pathetically search for the top with my mouth. I drink the whole thing in one and force myself to sit up. The cold water sits there splashing in my stomach. It’s not going anywhere, not hydrating me. \n\nSuddenly, panic sets in. My first coherent thought of the day is that I didn’t hear an alarm go off. That the sun is way too high for it to be morning. I grab my phone and sure enough, it’s 12.33. I have two missed calls and a voicemail. Immediately springing into action, I leap out of bed and spray myself all over with a deodorant can. The fresh, powdery smell hits my nose and I am stunned for a minute, gripping my head as the pressure builds and the brain freeze swells. Reeling backwards, I grab onto my clothes rail and the whole thing comes crashing down. Fuck it, I think to myself, and begin throwing things around like a whirlwind in search of something clean to wear. I think I’m still drunk. I knew I was supposed to start at ten this morning. Why the hell did I stay out until the sun came up? Couldn’t I at least have anticipated this situation? Couldn’t I at least have laid myself out some clean goddamned clothes? Alas, I’m always reckless, even in hindsight.\n\nI drag a brush through my mop of red hair and slap on some lipstick, my intention being to make myself look less like a zombie but my crimson mouth is a stark contrast to my sunken, bloodshot eyes and pasty skin. I wipe it off with my sleeve. I grab my bag and find my shoes strewn on the hallway floor. I try to shove my feet into the still tied converse, but my efforts are futile and I hop around unsteadily on one leg before falling on my ass like a toddler. I feel like having a tantrum. Hating life, I untie both shoes and put them on properly. Then I uncrumple myself from my dishevelled heap, I get to my feet and dig out a pair of sunglasses from my bag. I dust them off with the same sleeve I used to remove my lipstick, and, fighting the urge to vomit, begin the brisk and unpleasant walk to work, due to arrive three hours late and in the middle of the lunch rush. I’ll be your server today, please ignore the smell of vodka. I probably won’t throw up in your food.\n\nThis was my first writing prompt, feedback welcome! (please be nice)",
"He rushed for the door. He was ten minutes late and the reality was he needed even more time. Finally, he was at work, but unfortunately what had made him late caused him to make another detour before he could clock in. The bathroom door swung open, but not in time, and the man realized that he should have probably just called in sick instead, as he'd need to go home for a change of pants now.",
"Get in the... Boys! Stop piddling around, don't hit your sister. Get in the car.\n\nStop it! The steering wheel is not a toy. That's my seat, just like it was... Yes I packed you a fruit roll up. Your soccer ball? Jeez I have no idea.\n\nGot it. Now pl... Where are your socks? Jesus. K guys help a father out here. Yes, you are being very helpful, thank you. Here's your socks, and your sandals.\n\nNo, we'll make it. At least you guys will, daddy will probably be late but hey, self employment! Dinging? Oh damn. We need gas.\n\nFull. Let's ro.. WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS? You make daddy crazy.\n\nNo daddy is absolutely NOT speeding. I hope you guys have a wonderful day! We made it on time! OK unbuckle, company out. Love you, love you, love you too. Don't forget yo... Backpacks. Damnit."
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Remove the fear of death from the situation and what power do they have over their victim?
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[WP] A malevolent supernatural entity's (e.g. slenderman) prospective victim gains immortality and spends the next week belittling and tormenting his would be attacker.
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"\"Are you hungry, motherfucker?!\"\n\n\"Yes, for the love of God... Just let me get a fix.\"\n\n\"No. Not after what you did to me. I hunted your ass down, found you in the purest form. You bet you was some real China White, some pure Peruvian flake. I've seen what you've done to me and my ancestors. Not anymore.\"\n\n\"Please... Just a hit. Give me a hit of your satisfaction. I'll make it worth your while.\"\n\n\"No. Not this fucking time, you piece of shit. You have ANY fucking idea how many times I had to beg, borrow, and steal to pay for your so called 'blessings'? Tonight's the night we get in some shit.\"\n\n\"You can't kill me.\"\n\n\"But I sure as hell can bury you alive.\"\n\nAnd that was that. But for sixteen goddamned years, I've been hearing that bastard in the back of my skull, just begging to get out, to get one last hit."
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[WP] Someone suddenly decides to drop everything and run away from her/his life.
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"I've had enough. I looked down at the same cup of coffee I drink every morning on the same drive I take every day leaving from the same woman I'm with every night in the same house we've shared for years. I needed an adventure. What better time to start than now? \n\nI took a detour today. A long one, one I may not be able to come back from. Seeking out the needed break that I'd needed for far too long. My wanderlust had gotten the best of me and now I may not turn back. The mile markers ticked off like a meter to increase not only the distance from the norm but the freedom I suddenly felt. I was free. Free from the servitude and slavery that came with being your every day \"stand up fucking dude\". I'd worked hard to give everyone the things I didn't have while growing up. The thanks I got? She fucked my best friend and probably felt no shame about it. I'll get them both back, I'll remove the best thing that's ever happened to either of them, myself. \n\nAs I drive the lines start to run together - either from the excitement or bottle of Jack Daniels I was quickly drowning the sorrows with. I was free now, free as a bird. I didn't know how fast my car could go, I'd never allowed it to breathe in the gasps of air it must now be taking in. Who the fuck were they to do this to me? Why did it fall apart? What could I have done differently? Up ahead I see the light at the end of the tunnel, the end of a seemingly never-ending nightmare that fucking bled into my life like the unwanted passenger on an all too crowded bus. I was done with the monotony, the light got closer now. I was done with the mundane, and closer they got. Fuck it all anyway, in the end did it make a damn bit of difference, all I'd ever be was the mistakes of another. The lights appeared brighter than expected and I...",
"First, I'd like to say I'm sorry. And maybe explain.\n\nI was tired.\n\nTired of being afraid, tired of being down, tired of being me.\n\nI got up at six in the morning and went to work for eight. I worked until it was quitting time at four and then went home. I'd watch a little TV, make some dinner, kiss you goodnight and then start it all over. Every day. For six long years.\n\nWhen I was younger I wanted something more out of life. Maybe I was stupid or naive. Maybe I was just full of hubris. I thought life had grand things in store. That'd I'd change the world, make it better. I saw the evil around me, closing in. Society disgusts me. The economy is terrible. There are no jobs. When you find a job you end up at a desk regretting every life choice for nine hours while you wish it would all just end.\n\nIt's not life. It's just waiting for death.\n\nThe responsibility of a mortgage, car payments. All these things are stress. Each day it mounts until my back feels like it will break.\n\nIt's like I'm carrying a garbage bag on my shoulders and each day a little more trash is put in. A little more of my body dies. A little more of my soul fades.\n\nIt's not life. I'm not living.\n\nI want more. I want to be free. To work outside, to enjoy my career, to make a difference. I think I can help people.\n\nI thought I could make it rich but it didn't work. I thought I could bring in millions and build homes and jobs for people who needed them. I thought I could get involved in politics and bring societal change and make a better place. A place for children to grow up happy and parents to live in hard earned comfort.\n\nI saw it was possible. It wouldn't be easy but nothing worth doing ever is.\n\nNow I see I was wrong. The difference I can make is smaller. Maybe to one person.\n\nThat's okay.\n\nI'm making that change to myself.\n\nI want to be happy. I want to smile again. I don't want to be bitter and angry and full of hate.\n\nI'm not me. I'm not who I'm meant to be.\n\nI hope you can forgive me.\n\nI know the danger, I know the risks. I know what it means for me to do what I'm doing.\n\nI told you I'd be safe in an office and I lied. I don't want to be safe.\n\nI want to be out there. I don't want the blood and mud and death but it comes with the territory.\n\nIf my death can save a life or make a difference. If my life is the cost of change.\n\nThen so be it.\n\nI'm sorry. I will always love you.\n\nI just can't stay.\n\nNot like this. Not while pieces of me break off to leave behind an empty husk of the man I was. The man I need to be.\n\nThe man I will be.\n\nI love you.\n\nI'm sorry.\n\nMaybe we'll see each other again.\n\nIn this life or the next."
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Sometimes we get dark. Show me your dark side
Edit: damnit. Counts over = comes over
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[WP] Your 20-something daughter recently moved in with her bf, who you don't like. One day she counts over and wants to see mom. You notice a fresh black eye and split lip.
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"My dear, I remember that frigid December \nWhen you came to my life -- to both mine and my wife's. \nYour eyes burned so bright, and your lips could ignite \nEvery word ever said as flames danced in your head. \n\n\nYour progression, it seemed, rushed you right through your teens. \nYou grew up much too fast -- these moments couldn't last. \nWhen you came home one day, I knew not what to say; \nBy your side stood a man with a devious plan. \n\nI remember we fought, and I never forgot \nThat strong stance that you took as my entire world shook. \n\"He's no good -- he's not right,\" I put up quite a fight. \nRaised my voice but you cried, \"That's a lie, that's a lie!\" \n\nYou told me I was wrong -- you've found where you belong. \nSo I gave my consent, let you go where you went. \n\nThe dull days marched on by for your mother and I; \nNeither one of us heard from our sweet little bird. \nOur young child's flown away -- I couldn't make you stay. \nYou were happier now, though I wasn't sure how. \n\nBut then you came back, yet not quite intact. \nEye bruised and lip split, I knew then he had hit \nMy beautiful little girl -- my dear life, my dear world. \nAnd I knew what to do to the one who did this to you. \n\nI was blinded by rage -- we weren't on the same page, \nAs I picked up my bat to attack the dirty rat. \nIn my car I drove far and found him in a bar. \nCalled him out and he came -- the boy that I'd soon maim. \n\nLeading him out of sight, I gripped with all my might \nTo the weapon I chose to bring his world to a close. \nIn exchange for his life, he took mine with a knife. \nAs we lay on the ground, I heard police sirens sound. \n\nNow I'm frozen forever in this frigid December \nAnd I've left both your lives -- now we've said our goodbyes. \nLet your eyes burn bright, let your lips ignite \nEvery word that you say from now on -- from today.",
"I can’t for the life of me figure out why my wife can’t put the paper back in readable order, in what world does the Sports section come before the actual front page? It’s the small annoyances that make me love her.\nI don’t even make a fuss anymore, it’s not like she’s putting any effort towards correcting this behavior after 25 years of marriage.\n\n“Mark, Amanda just pulled up, can you help your sister with her laundry please?” my wife yells down the hallway to our son.\n\nShe notices me staring at her, “what?” she asks, hands on her hip and cocking her head to one side? “The sports page doesn’t go on the front? I only put it back together like that because I know how much you like the dodgers,” she kisses me on my forehead and chuckles, walking away to greet our daughter. \n\nI watch from the sofa as Mark Jr. struggles to bring in his sisters laundry for washing, even at 14 he’s still a scrawny little kid, reminds me of myself, I didn’t have a real growth sprout until I was 18.\n\n“Where are those two?” I ask, as he shuffles back to his room.\n\nThwarting his eye contact he answers, “Outside talking.”\n\nI reposition myself and give up on the paper, focusing my attention on the too loud television.\n\nAfter twenty minutes of listening to Diane Sawyer update us on the issues of ISIS, Amanda walks into the front door, whispers a hello and disappears down the hallway.\n\nEven though I’d only caught a glimpse I’m pretty sure he face was bare, and sprouting a chapped busted lip and a blue/black left eye. My wife follows a few minutes behind her.\n\n“Umm, is someone going to tell me what’s going on,” I ask as she locks the door behind her. “Does ‘Manda have a black eye?”\n\n“Before you get upset, and jumping out of your seat –“\n\nI hold my hand up for her to stop. “So what you’re saying is that what you’re about to tell me is going to upset me and I need to get up out of my seat, that’s what you’re preluding to.”\n\nShe shakes her head, and tears begin to flow from her eyes. I don’t even need her explanation; I promptly sprint to my daughter’s old bedroom, and enter without even so much as a light knock on the door.\n\n“Who did it, answer me now?” I yell louder than I intend to.\n\nBy now my wife has joined my side and is rubbing my forearm to calm me down. I jerk away without thinking. She sighs, and takes a step back.\n\n“Go ahead and tell me, it was Ryan,” I turn around and walk out the bedroom, tap on my son’s room and motion him to follow me to the garage.\n\nMy wife runs to catch up with me, begging me to stop, and to listen and to calm down. Calm down, how am I to calm down when my eldest child and only daughter comes home with a busted lip and a black eye from some asshole boyfriend. Mark Jr. follows behind me closely, scrawny as he may be, he’s not afraid of anything.\n\nIn the garage I direct my son to grab the shovel, and his little league baseball bat, I unlock my gun storage and grab a small pistol, I don’t bother with bullets, it’s simply a scare tactic with the gun.\n\nMy wife gasps “Mark no, now you’re being irrational.” She pleads.\n\n“Mark Jr., get in the truck, let’s go,” I demand. He looks back at his mother and lowers his head, he doesn’t like to defy either of us, but he knows that for the sake of his sister he needs to come along. \n\nI grab my keys from by the door, and shuffle with the garage door opener.\n\n“Daddy please don’t go, please,” she pleads with me, grabbing at my arm and pulling at me. \n\nI try my best to remain calm, and poised and rational, rational enough to know that any man that hits a woman, especially my daughter needs his face bashed in. I look around and see Mark Jr., waiting patiently in the truck, his adrenaline actively flowing, as he twists his mouth to display his anger. My wife is crouched at near the door of the garage, crying and holding hugging herself. And my daughter, my everything begging me to stay behind, to stay and just give her protection here, in our home.\n\nI’m torn between protecting her honor and by staying and protecting her emotionally. \n\n“Daddy, just be here, I want you here, please Daddy, just don’t go.”\n\nI wrap my hands around her, and hold her. She sobs within my chest, and I stroke her blonde hair and squeeze her tighter. I motion for Mark Jr. to get out of the truck and put the shovel and baseball back in to their respective places. He stands near, watching his sister cry, and his mother shake with emotions. And I watch as he moves in closer to his mother and takes her hand, and holds her, protects her, as I do his sister.\n\nIn this moment I realize that I’ve taught my son more about protecting a woman that I ever could have with a bat, gun and shovel. \n"
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[WP] A guy approaches two women at a coffee shop, one is completely disgusted by him while the other falls in love at first sight. Describe each of the women's view of him.
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"This is the first thing i really have ever written to try to get better at writing. Criticism is appreciated.\n\nI just don't know if I can take another relationship. She sighed taking a sip from decaf .\n\n“You can because you have to,” Jennine said, “ it's the way people live their lives. We get up after we fall down. You have to have hope for the future.”\n\n“Men are worthless, they just get your hopes up and then you see them for who they really are.” Kathy said dejectedly.”\nThe clatter of mugs and mumbling of people was drowned out by the sounds of the city street as the door opened.\n\n“You have to see the good in every person..” Jannine trailed off, mouth open, staring.\n\nHe was real. Jannie had thought he was something she had only dreamed about, that faceless man in her dreams finally had a face.\n\nKathy turned her head, “Him? You're interested in him?”\n\nA few seconds passed as He walked to barista.\n\n“What of it?” Jannine looked down into her Hot Cocoa.\n\n“I'll never understand your tastes in men, what is this the third one this Month?”\n\n“This one looks different, you can see it in his stride, in his eyes.”\n\n“In his ears, his nose, his decade old suit and sneakers?” Kathy batted off.\n\nThe Batista said something and He chuckled at the Batista's comment.\n\n“Ugh, and that laugh.”\n\nHe walked nearby, sat down a few tables over and started working his phone.\n\nJennine fiddled with her napkin glancing over at Him.\n\n“You always look for the 3 or 4's Jennine. Look for 9 or a 10 in a man. He's playing some kid's game for god's sake.”\n\n“I like Oinker's Quest, I play it too.” Jannine said venomously.\n\nA sound emanated from his phone and He smiled, his teeth not too white like in those creepy toothpaste ads.\n\n“You need to grow up, you're not going to get anywhere in life the way you are. You're just like Mom and she ended up with Dad.”\n\nThe Batista shouted, “Hot Chocolate. Kevin!”\n\nHe put his phone away and stood up, walked to get his drink, and left.\n\nI was hurried at the end so it isn't the best. (Edit: adding spacing)",
"“Oh my God, Beth, just look at that guy. OH. EM. GEE.”\n\n\n“What? What guy? Allie? Allie!”\n\n\n“What? Oh, what guy. Right. Okay, but don’t look now. To your left, behind you. I mean, behind the man with the green wig and right next to that woman with nipple piercings.”\n\n\n“How—the hell did you see the nipple piercings?”\n\n\n“Doesn’t matter. Just. Look. Oh. My. God.”\n\n\n“If you talk like that one more time, I swear to God I’ll f—“\n\n\n“Shut up and look!”\n\n\n“Ugh, okay. Okay. Which one.”\n\n\n“I said don’t look now!”\n\n\n“Fine, fine, fine, fine. Just—I know! Put on your sunglasses so I can see the reflection. No, the other pair. My pair. The round ones. Yeah. Alright. Put them on.”\n\n\n“But they look horrible on me!”\n\n\n“Allie.”\n\n\n“Okay, fine.”\n\n\n“Now they won’t see you stare. So, which guy?... The one with the red sweater and the green hair and the ripped jeans who just got a mocha and whose name is ‘Alecsandre’? No, wait, I’m pretty sure it’s actually ‘Alexander’.”\n\n\n“No, the other one. The cute guy with the shirt and the pants.”\n\n\n“They’re all wearing shirts and pants.”\n\n\n“Oh, my God, he’s coming here. Beth. Quick. Did these stupid glasses wipe the ugly on my face? Is my lipstick okay? Are my bangs straight?”\n\n\n“Oh, so it’s... this guy with the orange button-up and the black blazer and the—...”\n\n\n“...”\n\n\n“...”\n\n\n“My number? 554-332-1942.”\n\n\n“And mine’s 443-424-581... 3.”\n\n\n“...”\n\n\n“Bye!” \n\n\n“Bye.”\n\n\n“...”\n\n\n“Don’t sigh like that. Did you seriously fall in love with that guy? That’s the third one this week. Did you even look at his teeth? Yellow! And the shape of his face doesn’t go with those glasses, they were touching his goddamn cheekbones. And his breath. Yuck. He definitely shouldn't be drinking that much sugar if his teeth are going to rot anyway.”\n\n\n“He’s so... dreamy...”\n\n\n“Yeah, whatever. Oh, look, he left his stupid bussiness card here. There goes his number! 55...”\n\n\n“At least he didn’t give me a fake number, like you. Give me that. Ha! No, you can’t have it back. It’s mine now. He’s so dreamy... Did you see his shoes? So. Clean. And his beard was perfect... I just wanted to kiss his cheek, like hell, woman. And his hands... I think I know what we’ll name out first child in ten years. Hey, I wonder what’s written here...”\n\n\n“Yeah, like you don’t go straight for the bedroom stage on a first-date already. Give that thing here. I want to know, too!”\n\n\n“...”\n\n\n“Hmm. ‘Jack Addams. Psychiatrist. Offers therapy for DID/MPD.’”\n\n\n“...Crap. He’s coming back and he’s not alone.”\n\n\n“I think we talked aloud again.”\n\n____\nYeah, it doesn't make much sense, and it's all dialogue, but it's the first think I thought of (combined with the second). \n",
"This guy came up to me, smirking at me like he knew me, gross. He was holding a red cupcake and a coffee. He started talking to me about what I'd eaten. I said it was a muffin and a cup of tea. He asked if I hadn't had breakfast. What a rude thing to say. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean that I can't eat. Then he started talking about how he was going to a party later on and he asked me if I wanted to go. I told him I was busy and had to work the next day but he insisted. He told me it couldn't be that important. As if my job is less important than his? He doesn't know what I do. I don't even get why he bothered me. Can't you sit at a coffee shop alone? Do I have to be with someone? \n\n&nbsp;\n\nI met this guy today. He came up to me, smiling and asking my name. He asked me what I ate and I told him I ate pretty much and that he shouldn't make me feel more guilty than I already am. He laughed and told me he'd finish his own cupcake to make me feel better. He invited me to party and I told I'm I was busy and had to work the next day. He told me partying was more important than work, I agreed with him. I told him I'd consider going. He seemed really interested in me, I guess he saw that I sat by myself and thought I needed company. He was actually pretty cute and charming.",
"After parking his aggressively loud corvette, Blaine struts into the coffee shop. He walks with purpose and confidence. Blaine notices two women looking at his car. Looking at him. Smiling at each other. Blaine adjusts his expensive tie and looks slowly at his Rolex. Too late to take the ring off. He picks up a nonfat latte and strolls to the women. They are obviously smitten - the car, the tie, the Rolex. Blaine asks coolly if either other nice ladies would like to take a ride. Girl on the left giggles, flips her hair and smiles. Girl on the right is staring at his left hand. She smirks and turns away.",
"As the man walked into the shop, the two women sitting at the tables though very different things.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n**Wow... he's gorgeous!**\n\n**Oh god, what is this? If I got a penny for every single time I see a guy with all face and no brains...**\n\n\nHe bit his lower lip as he pondered over the menu.\n\n\n**He's biting his lip! That's so cute!**\n\n**Seriously? He might as well go for the Blue Steel while he's at it.**\n\n\n\"An espresso, please,\" the man said in an almost stereotypical London accent.\n\n\n**Oh my god! He's British? That's SO dreamy!**\n\n**Uhh! That's the fakest English accent I've ever heard!**\n\n\nHe sat down at a table and started doodling on his napkin.\n\n\n **He's an artist too, that's so cool!**\n\n**Any moment now, he's gonna bust out the hipster glasses.**\n\n\nThen, a women entered the cafe. The two young ladies didn't notice her until she started making out passionately with the man, with her back towards them.\n\n\n**What a tramp!**\n\n**God's sake! They're like a pair of dogs in heat.**\n\n\nEventually the couple came to a stop, the women rose and headed towards the washroom. As our two young ladies finally saw whom the women really was, their thoughts aligned and both of their faces twisted in disgust.\n\n\n\"MOM?!\" ",
"He walks in with a denim vest covered in buttons. His hair is messy, his eyes lively and active. He smiles at the two women sitting at the closest table.\n\n'Ugh. This guy is a mess. A complete mess. Oh, shocker, he wants to use one of our phones to make a call. Really? That's his excuse, a flat tire and his dog waiting in the car? Like any girl is stupid enough to fall for that line. Wait, is she seriously handing this guy her phone? What's wrong with her?'\n\n'Look at that smile. He has amazing dimples. I like the vest too, he looks like a fun guy. Oh, his poor dog! So he's cute and relaxed and he cares about his pup? Maybe I can get him to put his number in when he makes his call... just so I can check up on his pooch of course. Why is she sneering like that? She's not usually so unfriendly. What is wrong with her?'"
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[WP] A man's wife urgently needs a heart transplant, he goes on a murdering rampage to ensure she gets it.
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"It had only been a few months since I had left the city, at least what was left of it. Ever since the turn, nobody dared to stay in one place for too long. That mistake cost me my son. \n\nI left for the mountains a few days journey south of the city. I found a nice cave hidden in the rock face where I decided to make camp for a few days, but I knew I couldn't stay there much longer either. Despite the rain, I was able to get a nice fire started and watched as the storm rolled through the valley.\n\nA flash of lightning alerted me to his presence. He was standing just outside of the cave, a dark figure holding a gun to his side. I don't know how long he must have been watching me, probably followed me here. \n\nI stood up slowly and he rushed in with the shotgun pointed right at me. I was stunned motionless as he made his way into the light of the fire.\n\nIt was a child, not 12 or 13 at most. He had long brown hair and his skin was harsh and blistered. \n\n\"Don't. Move,\" the child said. I could just barely make out his face, half shrouded in darkness. His eyes revealed a mad intensity and he was shaking as he held the gun to my head.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I asked him calmly. \n\n\"Doesn't matter what I want! I've got the gun!\"\n\n\"You're not a killer. You want something of mine. I will give it to you freely.\" He hesitated, then tightened his grip on the gun. \"Enough people have died. No use in killing each other.\"\n\n\"You—you don't understand. I have to do this.\" The young boy began to cry. The way he held the gun revealed that he had probably never used one before. \n\n\"Son, sit down with me. You've got me in a corner. I'm not going anywhere, so let's just—\" \n\nThe boy moved suddenly and a loud crack reverberated around the cave. I fell to the ground as a burning sensation hit my stomach. The boy had fallen to the ground and seemed just as surprised as I was.\n\nI moaned and felt where the bullet had entered my stomach. I lifted my hand saw blood dripping form my fingers. Suddenly the boy was over me, tears streaming down his face. He moved to speak but could only stutter.\n\n\"Boy, why did...\"\n\n\"I—I—\" he stammered. \"My mother....She...\" he began to sob and rested his head on my chest. \"I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry.\"\n\nI could feel the energy draining from my body. I wanted to be angry or afraid, but I was numb. \n\n\"My mother,\" the boy continued. \"Her heart...she needs a new heart. We found a doctor in the city...said he could help her, but we would need a heart.\"\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" he kept repeating, his head buried in his hands. \"I'm so sorry...\" I stared into his eyes, now swollen and red. He was so young. Too young to take a life. All I could think of was my son as I lay on the cave floor bleeding out.\n\n\"You look...\" I tried to speak but I was too weak. \"You look just like...\" I couldn't finish the words before I let the darkness roll over me.\n\nI thought it would be hard to die. I thought that I would be afraid. But after wandering so long alone, I was ready to see my son again. \n\nAt least I died with a purpose. Not many people get to say that these days.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"He studied the latest case. The victim had been a young lady, 5’5”, 120 lb, Caucasian, just turned 28, web developer, runner, San Francisco resident, organ donor. It fit. \n\nHe skimmed the notes. 911 had been called from a landline, 10AM, the location was the victim’s home, the dispatcher reported only silence, forced entry, blunt force trauma to the head, she had been found unconscious but alive, she was declared dead at the hospital. It fit.\n\nThere wasn’t a day that went by without at least one, and some days there were as many as four or five new cases to add to the pile. Journalists were having a field day and did nothing to quell the feeling of panic that has spread over the state like wildfire. The series of murders were centered near San Francisco but there had been cases as far as Nevada that followed the trend. Most of the victims were female, white, and/or under 40 years old. They had all died of traumatic head injury, attacked in their homes. 911 was always called and most calls were between 4AM and 5PM, early morning and daylight hours. All the victims were organ donors.\n\nIt was a possible motive, probable even. It could explain the 911 calls and the head injuries. He had someone going through the CTDN waiting list and the California part of the UNOS list as well. But there were over 20,000 names and 5,000 of those were white females. It wasn’t enough information and the organizations were being short with him. The hospitals and organ transplant facilities were overloaded as they dealt with a huge number of dying organ donors, and more organs than they could process.\n\nWhat he didn’t understand was how the killer got access to organ donor information. The DMV had reviewed their databases and found no vulnerabilities. Of course they hadn’t been much help either. Their offices were flooded with people trying to get their names off the organ donor list. He considered getting off the donor list too, just in case. But there was no time and besides most of the victims were female.\n\nHe sighed as he looked up at the clock. Already it was nearing midnight and he was getting no where. He had worked through the last two weekends and it didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten much sleep due to the stress of the case. He needed a drink. Tomorrow he would think about the killer, but for today he could forget just for a few hours.\n\nHe packed up and made for the bar. It was Monday night and it would be quiet. The bouncer outside looked terrible as if he hadn’t slept for days. It made him look both more formidable and tragically vulnerable. In a gruff voice he said “ID?”\n"
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[WP] You are not the main character in the story that you live in. The author is trying to kill you off. What happens?
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"Ina great cataclysm i understand my place as i come to terms with my eventual fate. Almost as if great enlightenment has struck me, I have found myself under bodhi's leaves. I watch as time is written on its machine and the invisible hand, now visible, writes my fate into place. Who could I have been? Is this what I mean to be? A cog in a machine. \n\n\"... He gives his life to protect the hero...\"\n\n"
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[WP] Every time you ask your dad if you can have a cat, he shakes his head and gets this far-off look in his eyes. Then he always says "Cats are vicious." What's the back-story?
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"Bob never forgot that day, the day they attacked. Bob was walking home from his little league baseball game, when he heard a rustling in the bushes. He looked over as a orange tabby cat stepped out, and meowed at him. \n\n\"Aw, would ya look at that, a kitty cat.\"\n\nThe cat reminded him of his recently deceased cat, Mr. Fluffytail. Bob made the worst mistake of his life. He reached down to pet it, and suddenly it leapt at Bob, sinking its razor sharp teeth into his wrist, and slashing at his hand with its claws. \n\n\"Oh sick goblins!\" Bob yelled. He had never cussed in his life, and he intended to keep it that way.\n\nThis was no normal cat, and it was not alone. It and its kin were specially bred and trained in a secret KGB facility, part of a convoluted plan to overthrow the US government. Nobody knows how it was supposed to work, all the agents involved with the project were executed. The balloon carrying the cats landed in Kansas instead of New York City.\n\nMore and more Soviet psycho cats jumped from the bushes, and they latched onto Bob. He ran down the street screaming, with nearly a dozen cats clinging to his flesh and clothing. People stepped onto their porches, and gawked at the boy. \n\nSuddenly, a black sedan stopped, and two men wearing black suits and thick leather gloves stepped out. The backseat was full of cat carriers. CIA agents in Moscow had known about the balloon loaded with cats sent to the US, tracked the balloon to a small Kansas town, and dispatched agents to retrieve the cats.\n\nAfter ten minutes, and a lot of yowling, the cats were loaded up and the sedan zoomed away. Bob sat in the street bleeding and thoroughly traumatized. He vowed to never touch a cat again.",
"Roger Mullaney didn't exactly know *why* he was absolutely terrified of anything even remotely feline, but alas, he was. What he couldn't *quite* remember... what he was intended *not* to remember, as is the case for everyone in these sort of matters, was that he had walked the Earth before he had been named \"Roger Mullaney\". \n\nSpecifically, the last time he had walked the Earth, it had been on four legs, that of a field mouse on a small farm in the south of France. Life had been good for the little mouse, who dealt with his day-to-day mousy issues of finding food and avoiding being food, at least, it had been good until the Ides of September rolled around...\n\nUnbeknownst to the future human \"Roger\", his previous incarnation as a French field mouse had been ended by a cunning Chartreux farm cat called \"FouFou\". \n\n"
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[WP] God is on life support powered by human prayers. The last religious man on Earth is on his deathbed.
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"Silence. \nA moan.\nI shudder as I feel my omnipresence fading.\nCardiac arrest.\nI can feel my presence fading from this Earth. What will happen without me?\n\"God....\", He cries out.\nEven I don't know.\n\"Someone help! Heart Rate rapidly rising! He's in Tachycardia!\"\nEvery heartbeat means one more galaxy unseen. My vision... it's fading.\n\"He's stable, but he doesn't have long.\"\nIs this what it feels like? To know you won't live, no matter what you do?\n\"Lord, I await you.\"\nHe awaits nothing. I will be gone. \n\"Lord, as my last prayer, I just wanted you to know, I am a sinner but I'm thankful for everything you have done for me in this world, and I am ready to move on.\"\nHow fitting. An honest prayer that receives no answer. Why? I don't know. Is there a God past God? Should I pray?\n\"Nurse, please take me off life support.\"\nIf only he knew what his death meant. He would have wanted to live longer.\n\"Sir, please, you can still live for a couple more hours!\" \"No.. I am ready to be with the Lord.\" \nI wonder if this how humans feel. The stone cold feeling you have if you don't know where you're going. existence is gone. Am I an unbeliever? Is there a hell for God?\n\"Lord, I think I can see you..\"\n\"Time of death, 8:26 am, September 16.\"\nSilence.\n\n\n\n",
"*I try to inhale, as the machine beeps and clicks rhythmically, forcing my lungs to expand and collapse at its will. I vaguely smile at the irony, but I am too weak to show teeth. Not that there was anyone here. I was glad for that. I needed some silence, some peace. Perhaps with me gone, humanity might finally have some. I was sorry for that; for the wars, the bigotry, the prejudice, and the pain. I had good intentions, I think we all did. But you could never control truly control another's thoughts. We were too naive to realise that in the beginning.* \n\n*I sigh and close my eyes again. Letting the darkness envelope me. My time had come. Far too late, I thought. I was too old, a long time ago. The breaths come easier now. I begin to see the tape rewind and play from the beginning. I smile as I look at the world so young and green; at humanity's nakedness and wide-eyed innocence. How wonderful had life begun. The tape speeds forward and the pain begins. The cries of anger and war, of hurt and grief. The begging, the pleading and then the prayers. The prayers hurt the most. Each one pierced the skin and I watched the blood weep. I had failed so many of them. Helped so little. Had never quite done enough. But even gods had their mistresses. Mine was Time.* \n\n*The decades sped on. I watched civilisations rise and crumble and rise again. I watched history repeat itself in different clothing. I watched different faces beg, plead and pray. Still the blood trickled down. Now it was salty. \"I'm sorry.\" I whispered. Perhaps I could have done more. Perhaps if I had a chance to start over, I would have done things differently. But my rules did not permit for reincarnation. A memory of Buddha try hair plugs for the fiftieth time, flew by. Perhaps that was for the best.*\n\n*I feel my tape catch up with reality. It was time to go. I was far beyond ready. I counted the seconds down.* \n\n*10*\n\n*9*\n\n*8*\n\n*7*\n\nHello? *I grit my teeth.*\n\n*6*\n\n*5*\n\nGod? Are you there? Please. I know you’re there.\n \n*4*\n\nHelp me.\n\n*…*\n\nPlease my Lord. In the old texts, they used to call you Saviour. Please. God. Will you help me? Will you save me from this terrible death? I just want to see my family. They’re all so young. Maddy has a child on the way, that I won’t… Please. God. Everyone thinks I’m crazy, but I don’t care. If you’re there, and if you can save me, then I don’t care if the whole world thinks I’m crazy. Pleeease God! \n\n*The man was now screeching.* \n\n*I looked at him pityingly. I knew what he wanted, but knew that he would regret it. Death would have been so much more pleasant. I’m told he’s a nice guy. Still. Perhaps, this would be my last act. Something to be remembered by. I was dying and this man wanted life. He wanted more than life, he wanted to live. Forever. Man was gluttonous like that. I sigh. I lift my finger and the man disappears.* \n\nNoooo! \n\n*Hello.*\n\n*What? Who are you?*\n\n*Someone. No one. Take care of this place will you?*\n\n*3*\n\n*2*\n\n*1*\n\n*Hello Death, old friend.* \n",
"John lay on his bed, staring almost lifelessly at his gray ceiling. His hands are clasped.\n\n\"Lord,\" he wheezed. \"I pray you forgive this generation for turning against your goodness. Please, take me from them. Carry me home, Lord.\"\n\nA light and presence filled the room. John looked about. He saw nothing, but he felt more than anything he'd ever felt before.\n\n\"John,\" said a magnificent voice, emanating from every corner of the room. \"You are the last of my faithful, and you shall have your eternal reward in time. Not now. Do you remember why I sent you here? You have a mission, and it's not yet completed.\"\n\nJohn's eyes were wide, and the color seemed to be coming back. \"A mission? What mission would you have me do, Lord?\"\n\n\"Since you are the last of my followers, I am close to losing my life support. Human's prayers have always kept it on for me, but now it's almost lost. You must take yourself up and speak of my goodness and bring other's to me before I am lost to all.\"\n\nJohn looked around in shock. \"What? I am the *last*? And if I go, you go? But Lord, that doesn't make any sense. This wasn't in the Bible!\"\n\n\"You're right, it doesn't make any sense for who I AM, and it is not in my Word either. It is simply what this Writing Prompt calls for, so it must be.\"\n\n\"What writing prompt? And how could a writing prompt hold power over you?\"\n\n\"It's complicated. Anyway, be healed and go forth. Should the people reject you and kill you I'll die, at least that is what's implied from this prompt. I'm not truly certain. Something will happen though.\"\n\nJohn felt his strength return, and he could sit up. His youth had returned to him.\n\n\"If you say so Lord, but this writing prompt sounds to be no good. I pray you deal with it soon.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm working on it.\"",
"My bones ache. My head burns white-hot. I cannot move or even feed myself. The machines pump me full of calm, taking the pain away. I know the end is in sight, but I strain my heart to beat stronger - to survive.\n\n*If only they knew*\n\nHe is real. Of course he is, the lord almighty is our saviour. The billions of lives lost over the course of our existence now hang in the balance of my bated breath. Each inhalation keeps them alive, keeps them in paradise. \n\nScience is strong now. It was once our enemy, but rapidly it became our end. His people stopped believing. Books were burned, holy books. I still shiver at the thought. People called it right - just, even. They said that religion had caused all of the Earth's wrongs. Perhaps they are right, but I refuse to believe it. \n\nMy breath rattles through my ribcage and the machines work harder to sustain me. I find myself saying a prayer, but remember that the prayer will fall on ears as deaf as my own. For he too, is suffering. \n\nWithout belief, the lord god has faded to nothing. His form, his presence, his influence. All faded. As belief began to dwindle, his miracles became less and less. Science became humanities saviour. They had no more need for god.\n\nThe machines begin to beep loudly, urgently. I suspect I am dying, but the drugs don't permit me to *feel* it. I rally against it. I don't want to die, now. I used to be so unafraid of my end, knowing I would be saved and happy for all of time. \n\nThe lord god is dying. If I, the last man to believe in him, am to pass, I think his flame will snuff out forever. The dogmatic scientists and human-kind will not mourn him. No one even says his name. But what of the billions of souls in the afterlife? His dreams sustain it - his lifeforce fuels it. \n\nThey call it science, but it is murder. My breaths fail me and my vision begins clouding over. I know he too, is dying. The last breath of belief is the last rasp of our lord. \n\nI think of the billions in the afterlife. Those who believed, who passed and found they had been right all along. Their happiness, their eternal peace. As I died, I found myself crying.\n\n*Save us, Lord.* I thought. But there was no reply. \n\nOblivion beckons. "
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[WP] Back from the dead.
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"I awoke in a hot flush, memories of my first time with her were running through my mind all night. \nI laughed at the last words I remembered in the dream \"how did you think I did?\" \"Swimmingly.\"\n\nBut let's go back to the start.\n\nIt all began in woodwork, I was the only girl in the entire class, the rest choosing boring classes such as cooking or childcare. \n\nI was picked on by the boys and the girls, both calling me \"dyke\", \"lesbian\" or the only one I found kind of funny \"fanny smeller\". I bit back of course, a few times, but most of the time it didn't feel worth the efforts to even reply with a sharp \" Fuck off asshole!\"\n\nAt that point I had never really had a conscious interest in either genders, dating and sex just sounded boring to me. I didn't realise how wrong I was, at least back then I had the excuse of being a late bloomer.\n\n*ran out of steam, coming back to this later.*",
"Hanging about that ancient firmament \nLike a dusky pelisse the starless sky \nFractured full moon waxing yet all but faint \nAs spirits fester where the sleepless lie \n\nSignpost trapped in the bounds of space and time \nCaller of the four winds and those under \nFrom hoary Boreas summoned but one \nWeary traveller wary Gaia'd asunder \n\nLuck, like whiskey, had run dangerously thin \nCopper-less coffers, miserable pockets \nWithout a fill of those shingling shillings \nSave a sole possession, a prized locket \n\nShovel sank into an earth found wanting \nOf cold metal mottled with Martian rust \nTill at last a small orifice had formed \nRested there the token, nestled in dust \n\nAs Father Saturn's withered arm struck twelve \nAn outlandish carriage screeched its old wheels \nOut alighted a slight-heighted right imp \n\"Old major, for you I offer a deal,\" \n\nFatigued, the traveller was taken aback \nIf only by the familiar's appearance \nNot his presence here, which had been summoned; \nAt this point closed the doors of deliverance \n\n\"I'd have pictured a man taller,\" he said \n\"Poppycock,\" it echoed in cackled mirth, \n\"I find this form aesthetically pleasing \nNow I inquire, how much is your soul worth?\" \n\nThat Mephistopheles' words hung heavy \nA single pounding resounding silence \nFinally a sound stirred from inside his throat, \n\"Bring back my wife, undo shameless violence.\" \n\nThe familiar blinked with familiar eyes \n\"Ah yes, your lost Lenore, torn from your arms \nBy those very hands, those heavy bloodstained hands \nDid your chilled bourbon protect her from harm?\" \n\nThirty white horses on a red hill clenched \nBitterness and regret both in mixed breaths \nPouring through the gap in his two front teeth \nAnswered he, \"I have died a million deaths \n\nA million crushing deaths with each moment \nPassing as it did the miserable first \nI strangled my wife, yes, I took her life \nNow my restless soul is tormented, cursed \n \nFor I love her from my very core \nShe is the blood that courses through my veins \nThe very air that fills my tar-filled lungs \nAnd without her I am driven insane \n\nTake my life for hers, that is my offer.\" \nA briefcase from fath'mless Plutonian depths \nEmerged and plopped into the demon's hands \nIts eyes glowed morose, a Morean Klepht \n\n\"Sign here, here, initials here, here, skip this \nMother's maiden name in full here and here \nMore meaningless drivel, all procedure \nBut this one, sign this, and farewell your fears.\" \n\nSoundless whispering spoken in voiceless tongues \nLordly fallen seraphs, an unholy host \nAscended from abyssal Dis Pater, \nThat would put to shame old Faust \n\nUntil such a time when time was frozen \nWhen the ghastly raven's wingbeats beat not \nAnd the swaying of low boughs swayed no more \nAll the air was filled with the stench of rot \n\nLike an old rag ripped the boundary between worlds \nWhere the light of the heavens perverted \nPierced the rippling veil, down six feet under \nWhere Thanatos found his work reverted \n\nFrom a soiled hollow in a desolate lot \nA thousand dying screams of Saturn \nBlasted forth the hinges of the coffin \nAnd at last, his broken bride had returned \n\nOr so he envisioned; yet in all truth \nHe faced himself embracing in passion \nHer desiccated remains suspended \nThe deal executed in a fashion \n\nBecause for all the old soldier's soul was worth \nDis was already his destination \nAnd when her bony fingers found their mark \nThis tale's outcome need no estimation ",
"Rising from the soil the first thing I notice is the taste. I imagine that, after all this, I would describe the taste of death as dirt and blood. I spit mud and breath deep. At long last fresh air fills my lungs. \n\nI rise and stretch out my arms. My languished body is tight and weak. I double over coughing up more earth. \n\nMy posture straightens and I look to the bright moon overhead before turning back to my grave.\n\nA wicked smile scrolls across my face, \"I'm back.\"",
"No. No this can't be happening.\n\nI whip my head around. It's a gurney. I'm lying on a gurney. It's all white walls but the smell of disinfectant tells me that I'm not safely in the bathtub where I went to sleep. \n\nNo. \n\nI lift my arms up. The marks are still there. I bled out. I remember bleeding out in the warm water in the tub, the light washed over me and I knew it was going to be okay. I was leaving the darkness far, far behind me. \n\nIt didn't work. \n\nI'm alive. Oh god. I'm still alive. "
] | 4
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[WP] An asteroid is predicted to collide with the Earth, so a man and woman sit down for their final meal together.
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"\"No point in using a rubber, you said! We were all going to be annihilated, you said!\" The beautiful woman was furious. The lecherous old scientist just cackled.\n\n\"Heh. Asteroid forecasts, they're just like foreplay and weather-men: Extremely unreliable.\"\n\n\"Joke's on you, Arthur. I have herpes.\"\n\n\"As, indeed, do I.\"\n\n\"And the clap!\" The woman tried to one up him, but the brilliant coot kept nodding and clapping along.",
"Oh Margaritte, Charles thought. You look so Radiant tonight. If only we had more time to express our love, alas, it was not meant to be.\n\n\"CHUCK\", a shrill voice shrieked. \"COME DOWN AND HAVE DINNER. THE FOOD'S GETTING COLD\"\n\nCharles sighed. \"I'M EATING WITH MY BELOVED, MA\" he yelled back. \"I'VE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES.\"\n\n\"OH, YOU HAVE TIME TO HAVE ONE LAST DINNER WITH YOUR BLOW UP DOLL, BUT NOT YOUR OWN MOTHER?\"\n\n\"SHE'S NOT A BLOW-UP DOLL. GOD DAMN IT MA. SHE'S A HIGH QUALITY SILICON LOVE SCULPTURE. SHE WAS MADE TO BE LOVED AND TAKEN CARE OF.\"\n\n\"WHATEVER. NO MATTER HOW MUCH PAINT YOU SLATHER ON THAT THING, A WHORE IS A WHORE.\"\n\n\"DON'T CALL MARGARITTE A WHORE, MA. SHE'S A SAINT AND A VIRGIN.\"\n\n\"YEAH, A SAINT AND A VIRGIN JUST LIKE YOU. I WISH I HAD A DAUGHTER INSTEAD. AT LEAST IF MY DAUGHTER TURNED OUT TO BE A CREEPY PERVERT, SHE WOULD'VE GOTTEN PREGNANT BY NOW, AND I'D AT LEAST GET TO HOLD MY GRANDSON BEFORE I DIE.\"\n\n\"I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY MA. YOU RUINED MY LAST CHANCE AT HAPPINESS BEFORE I DIE. ARE YOU HAPPY MA? ARE YA HAPPY?\"\n\nThere was a moment of silence.\n\n\"I'D BE HAPPIER IF YOU CAME DOWN FOR DINNER!\"\n\nCharles threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. he then kissed Margaritte and walked downstairs to eat with his mother.\n\n\"PASS THE POTATOES, CHUCK\"\n\n\"STOP YELLING, MA, I'M RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!\"\n\n\"WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME, CHUCK?\"\n\n\"OH FOR GOD'S SAKES, MA!\" \n\nWhere the hell is the asteroid and why was it taking so long, Chuck wondered.",
"He gazed into her eyes with remorse for what could have been, then finally spoke with a smile. \n\n\"I'm glad you're a woman of your word.\"\n\nShe giggled and brushed her hair away from her face before answering him. \n\n\"Well, to be fair, I never thought the end of the world would happen in our lifetime\"\n\nHe took a sip of his drink and giggled with her, then said\n\n\"Right well, you still said it: 'I'll have dinner with you during the Apocalypse...call me then.' \" He said with a smirk\n\n\"It's only fair, I guess...you held up your end by not calling me until the Apocalypse.\" she said with a smile that was all too familiar to him.\n\nEverything about her reminded him of the better parts of his life. They were rebels together. They had left home at 18 and went to Vegas to get married and get rich together. As a married couple they spent his entire college fund on a wedding and 3 day honeymoon on the strip in Vegas, and the down payment on a 3 year old van. They were, at the time, hopelessly in love. The way she circled her finger around the rim of her pint glass brought him back to the early mornings when they would lay together in the aftermath of an all day party, she would sit up in bed and run her finger around the rim of an empty pint glass on her nightstand. They would talk endlessly for hours until the cold wet air of the dawn turned into the dry warm air of the afternoon where they would finally sleep off their drugs and let their bodies recover from the endless love making.\n\n\"You still stare...that's funny\" She said before lifting her drink and sipping it. \n\n\"I was just thinking about the old days...we had some good times didn't we?\" he answered as he rested his chin on his fist with a smirk that induced the same deja vu in herself that her ex-husband had just experienced from her finger circling.\n\n\"All good things end.\" She said softly as she lifted a peice of sushi with her chopsticks and ate it.\n\n\"Always with the sushi...\" his smile gave away his feelings for her as he spoke.\n\n\"Always with the tacos.\" She retorted with a smile that gave away her remorse for not having this dinner this sooner.\n\nHe grinned and nodded as he chewed his tacos. They both ate their favortie foods in silence as they simultaneously thought about their better days and how much fun they had together. Before meeting they had agreed not to talk about what they had done with their lives since their divorce 10 years ago. She knew that he had gotten re married to an old flame that he had cheated on her with a few times, she also knew that his 2nd wife had died giving birth to their child, who later died from birth complications. She didn't want him to have to think about that before the end of the world. It wasn't fair. Just like it wouldn't have been fair for him to make her think about how the man she had cheated on him with ended up having two seperate families in two different states. None of it mattered to them now. It was their past, and since they had no future, all they needed was the moment. \n\nThey finshed their meals together in total silence. It wasn't uncomfortable silence anymore, it was just a stillness that they welcomed with open arms. He finshed his drink and pulled out a cigar.\n\n\"Do you mind?\"\n\n\"It's cute of you to ask. I couldn't deny you a last smoke...enjoy yourself, Eddie.\"\n\n\"Much obliged.\" he said as he struck a match and lit his cigar. The smell induced more deja vu for her...the smoke danced in the air and mixed with the musk of his old cologne, ten years and he was still a slave to his old habits. She admired that, but she wasn't sure why. Then she broke the news.\n\n\"I brought us a surprise.\" She said with an evil grin that had gotten them both into trouble more times than they could count. He smiled with his cigar between his teeth and pulled it out to exhale. \n\n\"Well don't keep me in suspense, toots...watcha got?\" he was becoming more comfortable with her now, falling into old pet names. She let the name calling slide, knowing that there was no point in trying to chastise his sexism with the end of the world a few hours away. She pulled a small plastic baggie containing a handful of mushrooms out of her purse. He looked at the mushrooms and smiled.\n\n\"Just like old times huh?\" \n\n\"Just like old times.\" She said with her warm smile\n\nThey chopped up the mushrooms together and prepared their very own magic milkshakes with some oreo flavored ice cream. They shared a drink as they waited for the effects to kick in. She sipped her favorite merlot and looked longingly into his eyes as he sipped his whiskey neat. They drank in perfect silence before the effects began to kick in. He broke the silence by standing up and preparing a record to play. She observed him quietly and waited in anticipation to see what music he was going to play. He dropped the needle onto the dusty old record player and their song began to slowly play: \"I'm your man\" By Leonard Cohen. He offered his hand to help her from her seat. She took his hand, stood up and they slwoly danced together for the final time as the world ended.\n\n\n"
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[WP] The main character is an ancient Native American hero who falls asleep in the year 1015. Write about his reaction as he wakes up 1000 years later, in modern-day Mexico City.
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"I woke up and the cool breeze blistered my face. It was, at first, traumatizing. It felt like everything I had prior to this moment had been sucked away in a vortex of death and forgotten memories. I saw abnormally tall buildings, which touched the sky in their everlasting glory. I saw people. Many, many people. One had a strange handheld \"L\" shaped machine which he slid into the pocket of his odd clothing. Around his head he had a blue and white cloth, and a white, loose shirt that read \"Crips\". Did the people of this new world speak a new language? Had they forgotten the old (better, mind you) ways of the past? I was starving. I had to fill the void which was my stomach. I saw a small booth up ahead with a sign that said \"Hot Dogs, 99 cents\". I didn't understand any of this nonsensical phrasing that these darker-skinned people had come up with. I had to find a way to figure out what happened to me, and to figure out who I was. All I can remember was my name... \n \nBlack Elk",
"Arg! My head—what? Where am I? How…?\n\nAh, yes, I remember. The last thing I saw was that terrifying, primal hunger in the jaguar’s eyes as he lunged at me. I blacked out. I’m in the Afterlife; I understand now. The gods have favored me, by taking me from the mortal realms in such an honorable manner—to die at the mercy of the Great Forest Spirit himself!\n\nBut I don’t feel dead. I wonder if I can remember being alive?\n\nAh, yes. I can’t be dead. I still seem to have a body, and I remember leaving the Imperial City just a few days ago. I remember the Emperor himself spoke with me, and I remember being present when the human sacrifice ritual was performed.\n\nHe said the Empire was falling. Something about losing contact with the People of the Northern Deserts. I don’t understand all those politics and trade agreements, myself. I was a warrior. The Empire pays me my corn for killing its enemies and bringing them slaves to sacrifice to the gods, not for understanding why these things must be done. I think I was angry at the Emperor after I left. He didn’t want me to fight; said we were running out of money, and the human sacrifices weren’t helping to appease the gods at all. He told me he had gathered up all the precious turquoise stones left in the land and wanted me to bring them up past the northern deserts, to where few Toltec warriors had ever ventured; to find the land of the mysterious Sun People, who taught us of the movements of the stars they learned from their great earth-calendars. Maybe our gifts would entice the northern merchants back to the Empire’s borders, he thought. Maybe they wouldn’t, after all.\n\nBut I suppose our fall was ordained by the gods. After all, I am here and not in the desert, even if here is not the Afterlife.\n\nWhere is here? The buildings seem to be made of stone, like the ones in the Imperial City, although they are colored differently. Also, some of the taller buildings seem to shimmer, as though they were made of something shinier than turquoise. I seem to be in a small alleyway between two of these tall buildings. I gaze out onto the street that this alleyway seems to lead to. It is stone, but it has strange paint on it. The buildings across the street seem to be adorned in lights and… human skulls? Perhaps this is the Afterlife after all…\n\nWhat—? Who was that? A god perhaps? He was dressed strangely, and he was extremely tall. His lips seemed to be covered in some sort of black war paint.\n\nThe god has noticed me! He is coming this way!\n\n“*¿Qué te pasó, ese? Pareces de ser un extranjero, pero te sientas en este callejón como vagabundo.*”\n\nI fall on my face, and begin chanting what I can remember of the sacrificial ritual prayers, hoping to appease the god.\n\n“*¿No español, eh? I know poquito English, if that helps.*”\n\nI feel his arm on my shoulder, and for a brief moment I fear I might have incurred the god’s wrath. I shudder to think of what punishment might be worse than the Afterlife—\n\nHe helps me to my feet, and I get a clear look at his face. It’s not war paint on his upper lip, but hair! What a strange god, with such a pale and hairy complexion! Are they not supposed to be covered in feathers and scales?\n\nSuddenly, my body is racked with a fit of coughing, nearly an instant after the god first breathes on me. Maybe it’s a response to his divine breath? Or perhaps I worry myself over nothing…\n\n\"*You need a doctor? Come with me, amigo. Te ayudo.*\"\n\nHe continues speaking to me in the Tongue of the Gods, although it’s clear I am not worthy of understanding him. He leads me out onto the Street of Skulls, and I see—\n\nThousands upon thousands of them! These must be higher than gods, for there are so many of them! And—\n\nSome sort of beasts stampede across the street! But… they shimmer, as though they are made of refined turquoise, and there are—gods inside them? What a strange Afterlife indeed!\n\nI leave the god’s side to investigate one of the skulls. He seems intrigued by my interest.\n\n“*Es el Dia de Los Muertos, ese. Day of the Dead, no? Es una fiesta—Honoring the dead, celebrating life? ¿Es porque viniste aquí? Where you from, anyway?*”\n\nI give him the same blank stare. I am overwhelmed by this new reality, but I have an eternity to spend here, so I have plenty of time to learn. This alone helps ease some of the intimidation. These strange clothes the divines wear, the shimmering buildings and beasts made of precious stones, the sheer number of people I see around me! It seems impossible now, but I hope that one day I will come to understand this strange new world I find myself in, whether by fate or by the will of the gods. I only hope that this strange, abrupt cough and the faint itching I begin to feel under my skin fade soon…"
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Keep it SFW.
Don't be disgusting.
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[WP] There's a device that has been released which allows people to switch bodies. A 70-year-old man on his death bed and a 4-year-old girl have just switched bodies, write one of their POV.
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[
"The device had been my life's work. The second, later half of my life, anyways. Ever since I saw that 'Freaky Friday' movie. The original, not the remake with that Disney slut Lindsay Lohan in it. \n\nI've worked with the human brain for the entirety of my career, and even after they forced me to retire. I still kept up with the medical journals and the trade publications. There were stacks of them cluttering up my basement - right along side my workshop. \n\nIt was there that I created the first version of my device. You see, one low power high energy emitter beam can go directly through someone's head without doing anything whatsoever, like light through a window. Four such emitter beams intersecting can rearrange neural linkages - all the memories and instincts and experiences that makes up an individual. The tricky part was to gather all the bio-electrical energy that runs along each neuron and switch it with the other individual. I didn't know if that actually switched souls around, but it was the closest I could manage. \n\nIf it worked switching Patton, my lazy tabby cat, with Ike, my hyper golden doodle puppy; then it should easily be able to switch two humans around. \n\nWhat I could never manage, however, was the ability to find love, get married, and have a family. I devoted everything to my career. I traveled the world and helped people with all manners of brain conditions - and all it got me was an early retirement, an overflowing bank account, and incurable loneliness. \n\nBut that was about to change. I think his name was Juan or Julio or something like that. I was excited and in too much of a hurry to remember. He was willing to work for, what to him was, two years' wages and no questions asked. One fourth the money now, the rest in two weeks by bank account transfer, if everything goes successfully. \n\nNo one notices an unconscious old man in a wheelchair being pushed inside a hospital. Or the fact that in the late summer evening, he is wheeled into the long-term comatose patient ward. And there is no one around to see a large hispanic man in nursing scrubs put something that looked like two colanders connected to a laptop and car battery on the head of said old man and another on the head of one of the skinny atrophied children laying uselessly in their bed. \n\nA mild humming noise accompanied the machine as it went to work mapping the memories of each brain and then rewriting them. After four hours, there was the zapping noise of stored electrical energy being shunted into a familiar brain in an unfamiliar body. \n\nI recorded the ding noise from a toaster oven to let my associate know when it was time to carefully remove the headpieces, pack the machine away, and push my old body out of the hospital and to the bed inside a prepaid hotel room. \n\n'I' awoke three hours later, my eyes fluttering open as limbs that haven't moved in a year and a half slowly shifted, then eagerly patted down and explored my new wondrous young second-chance body.\n\nAs the skeleton crew hospital staff rushed towards my miraculous recovery, I admit confusing them all by angrily screaming the first words out of my new mouth, \"God damn it, Julio! Why the hell am I a girl!?\" ",
"Could you blame me? \n\nNo, really, could you blame me? \n\nIt’s not like she was going to accomplish anything with her life. I know my son, and he was never fit for being a father – constantly spoiling his children rotten. That’s what happened to their first kid, James, brought into the world with the same levels of entitlement as the rest of this generation. He had everything going for him, and what’d he do with his life? Smoke pot and mope around about his pathetic fucking life? Drop out of highschool to maintain his shit lifestyle? \n\nWhen I heard news of another child coming along I was surprised. Didn't think they would want to go through the mess of raising another, but I suppose their own selfishness got in the way. Maybe they saw it as an act of redemption, a way to make up for James. The levels of ego they must have had to pull a life from non-existence just to satisfy their own conscious. Bunch of pricks. \n\nBut I wouldn't let It happen. Not again. I wouldn't let them poison another innocent. If you can’t tell already, I’m a bit cynical, and being an investor doesn't help. Makes you pessimistic, jaded. Spent most of my life consumed by it. Cancer diagnosis didn't help. \n\nBut, when I heard news of some of the worlds leading neurosurgeons testing out some experimental transmission device, some sort of machine that rearranges synaptic receptors or some shit, I was immediately intrigued. I instantly funded it, and within a few years they had a working prototype. I’m not sure what they were going to do with it, nor did I care all that much, I just needed a copy. They wanted to keep this a secret, which was fine by me, just made stealing a copy that much easier.\n\nAnd then came the time of my death, or what used to be me. My cancer had gotten worse, and I was fully hospitalized shortly after. I picked up some other diseases too, as if the cancer wasn't bad enough already. I felt the end approach me, and it was at that time I knew I had to switch bodies with her - spare her the pain of living in this shit stain of a world. I had the device in my hands, already calibrated, and only needing the push of a button.\n\nAnd so I did it, I had to. I spared her with a quick painless death, and now all that remains is her vessel, occupied by me. I could continue the research, pursue a new career in the sciences, spare some more people in the future. Or maybe become an activist, human body transfers are sure to become a controversial moral topic. Either way at least I’ll be helping the world this time around.\n\nI just hope the Alzheimer's doesn't kick in too soon.\n",
"I have a whole lifetime ahead of me now. That will be enough time, it must be. I was so close, I was sure I could get it done. Then that damn cancer cropped up, and suddenly I had no time. What else could I do?\n\nI’ve been working on a way to reverse the aging process, to make us practically immortal. That’s worth a life, even that of a little girl. No-one could argue with that. She won’t feel any pain, I’m keeping my old body sedated and I’m continuing the chemotherapy. Maybe I’ll figure it out before she, it, the old body, dies. Then I can just reverse the age of that body, get rid of the cancer – it’s basically just a side-effect of aging after all – then swap the bodies back. She won’t notice a thing.\n\nOkay, her parents will. But they were obviously shitty parents anyway, who leaves a little girl unattended in the front garden? Anyone could just swoop in and snatch her away. Like I did. They should be thankful that it was someone who will make her death mean something. Not that she’ll die. I’m sure she’ll be fine.\n\nMy legs are a bit unsteady. They’re so much shorter than they used to be. But there’s no pain, none of the aches that used to plague me, just energy. I’d forgotten what it was like to be young. Granted, I’m quite a bit younger than I’d have liked. Four years old, that’s what she told me. But it would have been a lot harder to kidnap someone older. This will have to do.\n\nIt’s strange, looking in the mirror and seeing those round, innocent eyes look back. Trusting eyes. Too trusting.\n\n“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” she said.\n\n“I’m not a stranger, I’m a friend,” I said. That was all it took, that and a smile. Her parents should have taught her better.\n\nThe big, round eyes suddenly don’t look so innocent. They hold an… accusation. I look away. Time’s wasting. Got to get to work, got to cure death. And when I do, no-one will care how I did it. They will see me as a hero. They will see that the ends justified the means. A cure for death is worth any price.\n\nI get back to my work. I’m focussing on my equipment, but the bed with the old man lying in it hangs stubbornly in the corner of my eye. Can’t look at it though. More important things to do.\n\nMy new, little hands are clumsier than my old ones. A scalpel slips from my hand and I, acting by reflex, grab it again. Far too late, I realise what it fell on.\n\nThere’s an almighty bang and I’m thrown backwards across the room. My mind is racing before I even hit the ground. A fatal amount of current just flowed through my body.\n\nBut I can’t die.\n\nI’m not supposed to die.\n\nI can’t…\n"
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Try not to make anything too absurd or unlikely happen; I'm honestly looking for a more emotional or social adventure rather than a physical one.
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[wp] a character is walking home from the park, you decide what happens next, but he has to get home safely on time
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"Roy was walking home from his regular nine to five day as a generic worker at an office. He was feeling pretty neutral, because his life had ups and downs. He was walking through the park, which he had mixed feelings about since there were squirrels in the park, and he liked squirrels, but there were also birds and he had once been pooped on by a seagull. His solution was to hold up his umbrella, which he always brought with him just in case it rained or there were birds. It was five-thirty, and he needed to be at home by five-forty so he could turn on his crock-pot on time so he could eat while CSI was on. Roy liked CSI a medium amount. The weather was nice, kind of cloudy but also with blue sky. Roy liked that the weather was a metaphor for his personality and his life.\n\nSuddenly, there was a harsh electric crackle and a massive explosion which tore a tree apart only several yards away from Roy. Chunks of wood flew towards him and the smell of ozone suffused the air. The tree was an oak, Roy knew this because of the way the tree was. He was a little shocked, which was the normal reaction in such a situation. \n\nRoy looked at the tree and then longingly in the direction of his home where the comforts of his crock pot and Ikea furniture waited to coddle him into a domestic coma. Still, there was a slow shiver creeping up Roy's spine, and he had the edging feeling that today might finally be the day he deviated from habit. He had both good and bad feelings about this. A tension crept into the air which had nothing to do with the violent blast of atmospheric voltage which had just occurred.\n\nFinally, Roy gave in to the overwhelming sense that today he was supposed to do something unusual, something drastic and new, something that would shake him from his calm little world. After all, was he not the progeny of a nomadic race of curious, adventurous savages? Was he not the descendant of people who had left the safe cradle of the known and ventured into that great archaic mist of possibility? Inventors, pioneers, visionaries, all had deviated from the normal and had been rewarded for it; maybe it was time for Roy to experience his moment of divergence.\n\nHe gulped in trepidation and then closed his umbrella. Slowly, carefully, he unbuttoned the top button of the collar of his acceptable button down shirt. He walked over to the tree and looked at it.\n\nHe had to rush home to start his crock pot on time, but it had been worth it. Change had been achieved. The paths of man had shifted imperceptibly to a new course. The first act of Roy's rebellion had been committed, and the die was cast. \n\n",
"Through the haze of sleet and snow, a man in a brown coat walked briskly along the river, lapels raised to protect against the gusty cold. His face hidden, his figure obscured, his lone figure set against the snow-laden trees violently swaying in the breeze.\n\nAcross the river, Dmitry sat on the bank and watched him; watched him from the time he entered his line of sight a few minutes ago, watched the way his feet shuffled in small steps to keep the wind from blowing him over, watched the way his head was stooped to keep his eyes free of precipitation.\n“I wonder if he’d care if I die,” thought Dmitry. “Probably not.”\nDmitry pitied the man. “If only he knew what I do,” he said aloud, with a resigned laugh, shaking his head. He imagined what his life must be like – the drudgery and the monotony. “Every day,” he thought, “for the last 20 years, his life’s been the same. Except for the addition of a wife and maybe two or three children, not much would have changed. Perhaps the routine promotion at work every now and then, receiving extra money not for the good work he’s done, but simply because of the fact that he was now older. While there, he does nothing too exciting, perhaps signs a few papers now and then, but mostly just tows the line. Once a week, he goes for dinner with friends who talk about the same old stories from their youth, finishing off their night with a few drinks, only to arise the next morning to get back to their routines.”\n\n“And he’s perfectly happy doing it. And for that, I envy him.”\nA few years ago, Dmitry knew what satisfaction was like. He knew happiness, he knew excitement, he knew life. Food tasted better, mornings seemed brighter, the smiles on his loved one’s faces brought him more joy. What happened, you ask? Dmitry lost the ability to create art. The unadulterated joy and complete sincerity of drawing a picture, or writing a poem, or making anything beautiful now escaped him – he could draw but only by forcing his hand to move, he could write but the words would come out trite, he could create, but his creation had no value. Anyway, there’s no point talking about that. It’s all in the past and will never come back. Dmitry sighed, stood up and walked towards the river, making sure along the way that the rock was firmly attached to his ankle.\n\nA few kilometres away, the man in the brown coat opened his door, smiling widely as his children squealed whilst running towards him, and thanked God for his beautiful life.\n",
"Jim started his walk home. It was a breezy night, so he put his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the ground and admired the leaves that had recently fallen and their rich, earthy smell. He absolutely loved autumn. He looked up and between the trees, he saw his wife, Katherine. His face split into a wide smile. She immediately hung onto his arm, like usual. \n\n\"Hey there honey! How are you hangin' in?\" She asked with that adorable mouth of hers. Jim chuckled.\n\n\"Oh you know, I'm doing great!\"\n\n\"What were you doing on that bench?\"\n\n\"I was...I was being sad, I think.\"\n\n\"About what?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure now, actually. I can't remember why. Hmm, weird.\"\n\n\"Okay let's get you home.\"\n\nThey walked along the riverside.\n\n\"Hey this is where we first kissed, remember?\" Jim reminisced. Katherine said nothing but smiled sweetly. Jim and she kept walking. Her red gloves and hat nicely accentuated her dark blue eyes. \"You know I love it when you wear that,\" Jim said. \n\n\"You know I love it when you talk to me like that,\" Katherine kissed him on the cheek. Her lips were so warm.\n\nThey kept walking and soon passed the fountain on Main Street. \n\n\"Hey remember when I proposed to you here?\" Katherine mimicked getting down on one knee.\n\n\"Actually, Katherine, I remember proposing to you here.\"\n\n\"But it was my idea, really.\" Katherine chuckled. Jim hated when she said that.\n\nThey finally arrived at their house. Jim's brother, Ethan came out to greet them. \n\n\"Heya Jim! Where ya been?\"\n\n\"Oh you know, just taking a stroll with my wife.\"\n\nEthan gave Jim a weird look. \"Okay, Jim. Hey will you get in here already? Sofie's made us some weird turkey casserole thing and you're gonna have to help me pretend to like it.\"\n\n\"Okay?\" Jim laughed and walked in. The aroma of turkey and stuffing and green beans filled the air. He pulled out his chair at the table and sat down. \"Katherine? Kathy? Where'd you go?\" \n\nEthan and Sofie exchanged glances.\n\n\"Jim?\"\n\n\"Come on, Ethan. Let's just leave it alone.\"\n\n\"No, don't you think he's been through enough already?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about? And where's Katherine?\" Jim had no idea why they were acting so strangely. And then it hit him. There was no place set out for Katherine. He had been laying in bed alone for the past five weeks. And his sweet, beautiful Katherine was in the ground, three miles away. It had been a terrible car crash. The casket was closed during the ceremony. He had been sitting on that bench because that was one of her favorite spots. He had somehow forgotten. How could he be so stupid? It was all his imagination. He just walked up to his bedroom, wide-eyed and expressionless.\n\n\"I will never leave you, Jim. I love you too much.\"\n"
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[WP] The world is bathed in constant light to keep away the shadows. No one goes into the darkness or touches shadows. No one remembers why but they all fear them.
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"\"For the last time, Mam, Sun lamps don't just 'Go out'. Either you manually shut them down or they stay on.\" This was the third time this lady said that. \"Listen to me. Do I sound like I'm joking? I can't see any light coming from under the doorway anymore.\" After a pause and a heavy sigh, the woman on the other end of the phone line spoke again. \"Well then, I guess if you are so convinced, you can go open the door and check for yourself.\" *Click*. Conversation over. Jen stared straight down the hallway at the oak door to the guest room. She had only been in there a couple of times since her dad passed away after spending his last few weeks with her. Now she lived alone, and she doubted anyone would come help her open a door. \"It's just a door, I've opened plenty of those. Besides, what are the chances the room was actually dark? Like that operator said, sun lamps don't go out.\" The apprehension built as she gazed at the wood-grain. \"You can do this, Jen.\" She spoke aloud this time. \"It's just a door.\" Jen stood from her perch on the kitchen chair. With great caution, she approached the mouth of the hall. Her breathing heavy and her footsteps light, she reluctantly began to step. One by one, ever nearing the door. As she passed her own room, the last comfort of NTI Green helio-custom light diminished. Only the door remained. Stopping just short, she reassured herself once more. \"There is no issue in the room, Something must have fallen in front of the door. Perhaps the old curtains blew from the window and are heaped along the crack.\" After her careful approach, the jolt she made for the knob shocked even herself. The door flew inward and banged against the wall. What Jen saw next was an absolute shock. Nothing. She saw nothing. This was what the schoolbooks had meant by darkness. It was truly like having her eyes shut. Only darker. She couldn't see past the outer threshold of the room. Jen stood, slack-jawed and dumbstruck, for more than a minute. More than two. As her eyes groped the darkness, they still couldn't find anything discernible to latch onto. Somehow, she didn't mind. Against all of her years of schooling, natural instincts, and better judgment, Jen entered the blackness. Slowly now, one step. Two. Nothing happened. She squinted toward the far wall. Still couldn't make out anything. Suddenly, the feelings of dread long instilled by her years of learning were gone. She let the dark consume her, stepping deeper into it's hold. She even reached back and shut the door. This was amazing. No green, no red, no white even. Just black. Could it be that all of the fears were unjustified? It seemed so. She closed her eyes and opened them again. It was still dark. What had she, had everyone been missing all of these years? As she stood alone in the black, she felt real. That's when she heard a whisper, \"Welcome home, Jenny.\" ",
"Waiting for lunch is always frustrating, especially when you have a perfect view of others eating. I closed my eyes, tryinng to ignore them. Of course it was a futile attempt. Even if I couldn't see them, I could hear them. They were talking about the lights. Those lights were all people ever talked about nowadays. The power station was attacked a few days ago, causing the main lights to go out. The secondary lights remained, but that was enough to cause some people to have concerns. The power station had been repaired, without ant problems. It wasn't actually that big of a problem.\n\n\"I know it's going to happen,\" someone to my right says in a hushed tone. \"They say that The Group will do it again and this time none if the lights are safe.\" The Group. I laughed. What an unimaginative name. Anyway, the secondary lights were safe. The light system had been running for hundreds of years, without a single blackout. A bulb or two had blown, leaving small areas of darkness, but nothing to be concerned about. There was no way everything would just stop.\n\nThe person's friend shakes his head. \"Nah, the lights are safe. Plus, we have no idea what's really out there. I could be completely empty.\" He had a point. No one had even stepped foot into the darkness for decades. The only problem is that it's the darkness. Who in their right mind would step into it?\n\nTheir conversation was interrupted by a low rumble. I looked across the city. The lights flickered and turned off. The secondary lights were fine, so I didn't move. I'd just closed my eyes again, when a woman screamed. I opened them again only to be met with darkness. The city was in panic.\n\nI took several deep breaths. I couldn't allow myself to freak out. I knew what I had to do. I hopped down from my hiding spot above the light fixture. These people had forgotten why they feared the darkness. They'd forgotten why their ancestors built those lights. It was my job to remind them. I licked my lips. Lunch was finally served.",
"Kathrine could only remember two times in the past when the emergency candles were brought out. Both were years ago, and apart from a few blurred and vaguely nonsensical memories, she could only remember the second time. \n\nShe was sitting in her bedroom reading when the primary light circuits went out, leaving only the low power secondaries on. The world was instantly transformed from a comforting blue to a nasty dull off white. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the new view, one disconcertingly lacking in fine detail. It took a minute to remember what she needed to do in this situation. \n\nShe stood up from the recliner. The storage box above the kitchen cabinet. She walked into the kitchen, slowly, her own house barely familiar to her in the gloom. The kitchen secondaries were yellow incandescents, of the old screw-in sort. There were only six in here, barely enough for comfort. Katherine pulled a chair from under the kitchen table and dragged it over to the cupboard, just next to the boarded up window. She tried to not think about the window. \n\nStanding on the chair, she lifted the storage box down from above the cupboard. As she clambered down, one of the secondaries burnt out with a popping noise. She nearly lost hold of the box. \n\nShe heaved the box onto the table. No time to carry the box to her room. Opening the box spilled a heavy layer of gray dust from the top onto the table. The candles and matches were down one side, wedged between envelopes and books. Katherine took a candle out and placed it next to the box on the table. Another secondary light burnt out with a pop, on the same side of the room as the last one. She wanted to scream. \n\nShe opened the box of matches. The little tray on the inside was upside down. Matches fell all over the table and the floor. Katherine grabbed at one of the matches and dragged it along the side of the box. The elderly wood gave way and the top of the match fell to the floor. She picked up another match and struck. \n\nThis time the match lit. The rest of the lights in the room brightened for a moment, then began to fade. Katherine barely managed to light the candle in time. \n\n"
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[FF] Write an exactly 10-line poem on how times where better at some point in the past or will be better at some point in the future. Rhyme Scheme STRONGLY encouraged.
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"When I was a child, I smiled; I was young and naive, \n\nI knew not what it meant to deceive. \n\nI saw the sun. but not the rain,\n\n I saw the joy, but not the pain. \n\nI thought the world was a happy place, \n\nBut now I know that's not the case. \n\nOn summer afternoons, I'd play in the grass.\n\n I'd have cherished it more if I knew it wouldn't last.\n\n Now, I'm old enough to know the world is unforgiving; \n\nI never thought that childhood would be the peak of living.\n",
"My existence is a gap in the march of time and space,\n\nI look back and see heroes, marked by courage and by grace,\n\nI look forward and see a world that glitters and gleams,\n\nThe past is filled with legends, the future filled with dreams. \n&nbsp;\n\nYet I watch as my days and my life disappear,\n\nI wonder and wait for the next big thing to get here,\n\nThere is nothing left to explore, or to conquer, or to save,\n\nI can only continue on this boring path to the grave.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIf only I was born in a different time is the refrain,\n\nEverything would have been better, not just boring and plain.",
"When I was born I was full of life\n\nNow I am less full, more of strife\n\nAdvancements in biology means I get to eat fake meat\n\nBetter technology gives music a better beat\n\nBetter beats means more are inspired\n\nTo reach for the heavens to avoid the fires\n\nSo that I can live forever\n\nOn the back of the scientists so clever\n\nWho create the nanobots that power my body\n\nAnd now my lifestyle, is very Gaudy"
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Warbots, drones, terminators, what have you. The enemy is vanquished, what will they do now that the peace has come?
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[WP] What happens to the killing machines when there is no war left to fight?
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"Jordan walked into the crowded subway station, ignoring the stares from men and shuffling away from women. Straight backed and eyes forward, he stood motionless, yet seemed more capable of rapid movement then anyone there. He was two heads taller then the next and barrel-chested. He felt eyes on his arm. The conversations had all but ceased.\n\nWhat once showed his bravery and inspired others now marked him as an outcast. \n\nThe war was over and there was no place for Deathlords in the new society. \n\nJordan pretended not to notice a young mother pulling her son away, a safe distance. What they didn't realize was that if he did snap, it wouldn't matter how far away they were. The Deathlords may not have any powers or have been genetically mutated like some said, but damn if they couldn't fight. Chosen from the best of the best, the Deathlords were equipped with the greatest technology and told to go win the war. \n\nThey did. \n\nAnd now they weren't needed. \n\nThe young boy had managed to get away form his mother and walked up to Jordan. He looked up at the man, seemingly unintimidated. \"Did it hurt?\" \n\nThe boy's eyes shifted to Jordan's mechanical arm. Anyone chosen to be in the Deathlords was required to chop their left arm at the elbow and have it replaced, both to prove devotion and to gain combat effectiveness. They weren't allowed pain meds. \n\nJordan didn't look up, but he knew everyone was watching him, wanting to know the answer just as much as the curious boy. \n\n\"Yes.\" He raised the arm and made a fist, clenching and unclenching in front of the boy. \"Still hurts.\" \n\nThe boy's mother took the pause in the conversation to grab her boy and leave the station. They didn't even take the train. \n\nJordan kept his composure and entered the train. This was a good day for him so far.",
"Swords to plowshares. It is a quite enticing concept. But in reality, you need a different kind of metal. Smiths have to work day and night on it.\n\nInstead we just threw then away. Into outer space, just to be safe. Because we gave this weapons a potentionally deisastrous ability: To learn. From their mistakes, and their successes.\n\nNever in a hundred years did we imagine they could come back. But almost exactly a hundred years later they DID come back, with a vengance. World war four was not fought with sticks and stones. The robots were deemed to be too dangerous, and so humans were once again fighting themselves, for the first time in centuries, with technologicall advanced but unintelligent weaponry. The sins of the father. Ain't that some shit.\n\nWe won, but only just. I hope this will be a lesson to our species. ",
"“That was that. The war was finally decided. So many long years of struggle, but finally, there was Peace. \n\nOf course it wasn't an easy transition from Wartime to Peacetime, but our society had acclimated about as well as you’d expect; the only ones with trouble were the mediums by which we had won. We used them to destruct, vanquish, and destroy our enemy but now what were we to do with them?\n\nWe couldn't just dismiss them, they were the entire reason we won the war, but they were no longer of use – they were obsolete. As we do with things we no longer need, we neglected them, forgot about them, and soon we even shuddered at the thought of them. Its one thing to bring Peace through violence, but it’s something entirely different to have the constant reminder.\n\nI fought in that war. I served my country. I was one the Few, the Proud, I was a Marine. And that is why I sit on this corner. After our war, a war in which I gave over eight years of my life, America didn't need us anymore. We were cast aside to fend for ourselves, while you all basked in your recently reacquired freedom. \n\nAs for me.. Well, there isn't much use for a man who excels in the despicable art of War, so now I beg for a living, a purpose. I sit here and think of those men I killed, their tortuous screams, they haunt me.. I..I guess I deserve this life.\n\nAnyway, now that I've given you a history lesson, could you spare some change?”"
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[WP] A world where the neckbeards are in charge of the world.
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"At the early hour of four AM, the town is woken up by the sounds of neighing and laughter. I get up and walk towards a bright pink closet in the corner of an otherwise dark and dingy apartment, perfectly clean with not a spec of dust on the large doorway. As I push the doors open, a massive shrine to my assigned pony, Pinkie Pie appears. I vow to burn this when I am done. I move over to a large glass box containing a pink tracksuit, complete with sparkles and a picture of the glorious Pinkie Pie. I carefully slip it on, careful not to wrinkle the fabric in any way. The last man to wrinkle his tracksuit had been beheaded on the spot. I slip on a pair of light up sketchers kept in a similar, but smaller, glass box under the large one containing the tracksuit. I slip those on, and walk out the front door, only to be greeted by a man in a Rainbow Dash tracksuit, who hands me a slip of paper with a time and street address on it. I slip it into my backpack and walk downstairs with the man. We walk onto the street and get into his car. It is the only non-pink or purple car on the street. \n\nWe drive towards a large spire in the center of town, and are greeted by a mass of thousands as they gather for morning prayer. We get out and kneel on the purple carpet surrounding the statues of all the characters from My Little Pony, and the giant purple spire in the center. As me and the other man I was with kneeled, a huge man in a golden track suit steps up on top of the spire and begins the great attendance. No one is missing. Then we begin daily prayer. Silently, I curse this retched, twisted, corrupted religion and the world I live in. We sit there until 6:00 AM, when service is ended with the sprinkling of cheese dust over the crowd of people. I bolt home and change into a pair off jeans, and an old T-shirt in what was once called MultiCam, a military camoflauge before the great collapse. I head to the address on the peice of paper I was handed, 465 Rainbow Road. \n \nBuilding 465 was an old abandoned factory. It was brick, and the inside was filled with old machinery. The man I met was already there, along with other ordinary looking men and woman, even a 15 year old who was sick of WoW. We gathered around a table that was covered with maps and notes. Another man walks in with a duffle bag filled with weapons. \n\nA bell rings, signifying we all go into silent Dorito reflection time. Nobody listens here. For today is the last day of this disgusting mockery of a world. We move to a large Jeep in the back of the building, complete with an old mini-gun found in the Royal Dump. We cast our own bullets, and we had enough too take the entire city. In the back of the jeep was enough explosives to bring the entire Spire down. \n\nAnd that's what we plan on doing.",
"“High Euphoric Fedora Neckbeard, we plebs are running out of Doritos’ and Mountain Dew! Whatever shall we do?”\n\nThe lady was a 6/10. Maybe a 7 at most. I scratched thoughtfully at my mighty neckbeard, feeling the folds of ~~fat~~ muscle ripple in unison. \n\n“M’lady!” \n\nAs I tipped my fedora the sun and sky was silenced as the shadow of its rim was cast gloriously upon the landscape and thousands of women simultaneously orgasmed. \n\n“I am at your service. Fear not m’lady for we shall rain prosperity and cheese dust upon this land. All you have to do is pay tribute to me.”\n\n“And how do I do that?”\n\n“H-having sex?” \n\nHer venomous glare pierces through my ~~fat~~ muscle.\n\n“Not a chance in hell, fatass. I don’t know why you’re even running the world when you can’t even get out of your mom’s basement!”\n\nShe leaves me, presumably for a scumbag that won’t treat her right. Why do girls always ignore the nice guys? I go back to World of Warcraft and pull out a cheeto from my bellybutton. \n\nEven in my fantasies I get friendzoned.\n"
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[WP] The story of a character known to a select few as The Silencer.
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"A slap across the face brought him out of his daze. \n\"Wing! Wake the fuck up dude, your not listening! We need to get out of here!\" shouted Bud hysterically. \nEverything started coming back to him, he regained his composure and knew what had to be done. \n\"Let's go Bud, time to be free.\" he replied in a firm voice, giving Bud a slight relief, and hope. It was the time of year where they would do selections. The hall becomes to crowded, and a select few are chosen, taken against their will, never to be seen again. Hope was all the motivation they needed\n\n They exited the area they were in, joining in the main hall with the rest of the prisoners. Poor bastards, most of them born here, never even knowing the freedom of the outside. They made there way across the area, approaching the opposite entrance. Peering around the corner, Bud couldn't see any form of resistance in sight. \n\"Looks clear too me, but let's just take our time, don't arouse suspicion.\" he whispered back to Wing. The two moved slowly down the hall to the outside, the light hit them hard, the yard was very small and they didn't leave the doors open that often.\n\n About twenty feet to the left was the section of fencing that Bud had been working on every available chance for weeks. The wire all cut and reset to look normal, ready for someone to take their chance. Bud and Wing finally had their chance. Prying the fence apart, Wing held it open for Bud to squeeze through, and once through, Bud returned the favor. \n\n \"We've done it dude! We're out!\" shouted Bud, but quieting down just as fast \"We need to get moving before they find us...\" \nHeading towards the tree line in a open sprint across the grounds, something suddenly lept out in front of the two, a large hair creature with an oversized tounge hanging from his face. It seemed harmless, though rather large and intimidating, towering over them. As soon as they tried moving away, the beast let out a deep bellow, and repeated. What was happening, it seemed like an alarm, a siren, a warning. \n\"Run!\" screamed Wing as he turned to flee the scene, as Bud took off the other way. Wing got a few feet before a hand closed around his neck and raised him high in the air. \n\"Looks like your an eager one aren't you!\" chuckled the farmer. The last thing Wing saw before being carried into the slaughterhouse was his best friend Bud, being torn apart by a black Lab.",
"Jack sprinted down the alleyway and tripped. He flew headlong down past some trashcans and ground his face into the filthy concrete ground. He was stunned. Blood dripped out of the hot ruin of his nose. Pain flared in his hands and elbows. The alleyway was long and dirty and at the other end he could see cars, but he could not hear them.\n\nHe got up quickly, spinning around. Jack saw a black figure at the end of the alleyway. He was wearing a fedora and a long black coat. His shoulders seemed bulky because of the big fur collar on the coat. His hands were in his pockets, and he was still coming towards Jack. Even when Jack had been running flat-out, the man had only been walking smoothly and steadily. It didn't make sense. It scared Jack fiercely and he thought about fighting for his life. He decided not to. \n\nAll sound in the alleyway was dead. Nothing but the clicking of the man's shoes sounded. He got close enough for Jack to see his blue tie, his black shirt, his black vest. The silent man's shoes were shiny black, too. He was enormous.\n\nHe stood over Jack, and Jack pissed himself a bit. Androids and exotic species passed by on the sidewalk but nobody noticed the black giant approaching the threadbare thief on the ground. \n\n\"What do you want, mate? The fuck you want? I an't got nuffink, ya hear, ya faggot, you can't touch me or I swear I'll fuck you up, mate, I'll-\"\n\n\"You. Will. Not.\"\n\nThe voice said it like that, deep and slow with a pause between each word. The big black figure was the only other person in the alleyway. He must have spoken.\n\n\"You wanted a job? I am here. I can do that. I have a job for a... thief.\"\n\n\"Yeah? What kind of job? You wanna get sucked off, that's-\"\n\n\"No. This is a different job. Have you killed?\"\n\nJack was shocked and he sputtered.\n\n\"No, I have not killed! Fuck, are you mad?\"\n\n\"No. I am calm. You will be calm or you will die.\"\n\nA searing heat flashed through Jack's body. He felt like his organs were boiling and getting mashed at the same time. His lungs collapsed, his heart melted, and his brain was blank with panic and pain. The burning feeling came and went, leaving Jack gasping.\n\n\"Jesus, fuck! Fucking fuck of a fucking son of a bitch, OW! Was that you?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Alright, you fucking nutter, maybe I have, uh, killed. I'll do what you want, jus' don't do that again.\"\n\n\"This is good. You will kill this man or you will die. You will not ask questions. You will live in a better country. You will be relocated once the task is finished. Your identity will be protected. God save the Queen.\"\n\nThe giant man handed Jack a picture from his gloved hand. Jack's grubby fingerless gloves left little stains on the picture. The picture showed a green-skinned man with eyestalks getting into a limousine. \n\n\"Alright, yeah, looks easy.\" He pocketed the picture. \"What's your name, in case I need to find you?\"\n\n\"I am the Silencer and you will not ask questions. Again came the heat.\n\n\"AGH ALRIGHT JESUS FUCKING FUCK I'LL GO I'LL-\" and just like that, the heat was gone along with the hulking figure. Jack froze. He looked around the alleyway. He poked his head out and looked both ways. The crowds divulged no secrets. Checking his pocket, Jack found the picture again. The poor sap wouldn't know what hit him. Who was this fucking Silencer joke? Bad news, like. Jack took off into the crowd, his search beginning.\n\n",
"I'm 6 feet tall, to the smallest measurable fraction of an inch. I have built and conditioned my body to the peak of physical ability, and maintained it ever since I was Sparta, learning the brutal art of Pankration. I will say with some pride that even their kings considered me gifted. \n\nI have roamed through these milennia in strange circles. Once you've crossed the threshold of centuries of life, there are few circles open to you that are not strange. For many, many years I wondered at my undying nature. At long last, I learned that I have the nature of a mage. A strange one, to be certain, but a mage none the less. \n\nMost wizards don't fear a mage. A mage only has skill in one arena. Conjurers, evokers, seers, all one-trick ponies. They're dangerous, certainly, but easily countered. A wizard can do all of these. And they know to fear this mage. \n\nI am, as far as it is known, the only mage of silencing. Magical workings fail at the simplest exertion of my will. At a whim, the mightiest practitioner is simply a man. Usually a man of average or less physical ability. \n\nAs I've said, Pankration is a brutal art. ",
"I was breathing hard, my whole life lead up to this moment, my high school graduation. I, through hard work and luck (bad or good, I'm not sure), was the valediction of the class of '98. I'd prepared for days, revising and rewriting my speech. At one point it was just, \"We did a lot of work to graduate, enjoy the fruits of that labor.\" When my parents found that was going to be the speech, that's a whole other story, my dad started laughing and my mom gave me that mom look. You all know what I'm taking about. Anyways, the big day finally came. We all walked up to the stage, got our diploma and handshake and almost melted in the 90 degrees (Fahrenheit) weather. Honestly, whose idea was it to wear gowns? It's so hot in them!\n Finally, it was time to deliver speeches, the parents and principal saying blah blah you're so old, blah blah blah you've grown so much or my favorite blah blah you've worked hard (how come our parents can say just that and I can't?) after what seemed like hours (it probably was now that I think about it) it was my turn to speak. I began my speech and I was saying it much better than I thought I would. Suddenly a tall, pale man wearing a suit began to walk up the aisle. I payed no attention to him and no one else was either. I thought he just had to use the bathroom or something. He walked right up to the stage where I was speaking (is stage the right word?). At this point I was baffled, what was this man doing? It also seemed no one else saw him, or they thought what he was doing was normal. This only heightened my confusion. He walked right up to me and put a finger to my lips. \"Shhhhhhhhh,\" he said. Suddenly, I couldn't talk, I couldn't even make a sound if my life depended on it. He began to walk away like nothing was wrong and everyone was looking at me wery strangely. As far as I can tell they thought I stopped taking mid-word. As the tall man walked away I managed to croak \"Who....Are....You?\" he turned and looked right at me and said in a whisper, \"The Silencer.\"\n\n\nA few notes from the author: \n1) Sorry if this is bad, this is my 1st story and I welcome feedback in the comments.\n2) Sorry about the formatting, I'm on mobile.",
"The cold never bothered me anyway, except when I have to bury a body. Life wasn't always like this, but sometimes a man makes sacrifices to serve the realm. My son was only a babe when I left for his majesty's army, he had a fascination with ice and this baby reindeer. I thought they would recruit me for the main army, but I was assigned to a special division. We never had an official name, but we became known as the \"Messengers of Winter's calling.\" I've done many terrible things for the sake of the kingdom, but it was my last mission that will live in infamy. The mission was to kill the King and Queen by damaging their ship's hull. Many nobles didn't like a young king telling them how to rule their lands especially when his eldest daughter is a rumored to have the power to control winter. I wasn't sure if I was ready to make the two princesses parent less, but I did what I was told because that's what I did best. We still go on missions when need be, but ever since then I've been known as the \"Silencer of Kings.\"\n\nEdit: This is my first prompt, so please give me criticism for improvement."
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[WP] A man goes to sleep every night and find he's a different person each day when he wakes up.
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"Carolyn walked into the coffee shop, hand trembling as she pressed into the clean glass door. A bell above the door DINGED, causing a small yelp to escape her lips. Her heart thumped in her chest and her stomach rose up behind her lungs, but when a kind face poked his head out from behind the register, Carolyn's mind was set at ease. \n\n\"Hi, what can I get you?\" He said, smiling a wide, toothy smile.\n\n\"Just, uh, anything strong, and make it sweet,\" she said, a noticeable tremor shaking her voice as if the shop had been 30 below. \n\n\"Anything?\"\n\n\"Surprise me, dammit,\" Carolyn said, digging through her unfamiliar purse. She finally came across a small billfold, pulled a ten from it, then slapped it onto the counter. She turned and went to find a seat before the barista could say anything more. \n\nShe rubbed at her temples, *Carolyn's* temples. It had been a rough night, rougher than normal. It had been fifteen years since the changes had started, at least that's what he/she thought. He/she (Carolyn?) had completely forgotten who he/she was before the switching happening, had at first tried to find the source for his/her nightly body-hopping, but it soon became pointless. Each day was a struggle, and he/she wondered what happened to the body whenever he/she (Carolyn) jumped to another body. \n\nDING\n\nCarolyn jumped in her seat, then relaxed. \n\nShe/he had thought that he/she had built up stamina, had somehow found a way to somewhat cope with the switching. Sometimes it was good, sometimes he/she found her/himself in a good body, a happy life with others that loved whoever he/she had been that day, but there were days that he/she would be in a country she/he had never been in before, speaking languages that he/she didn't even know she/he knew. \n\nAnd there were those details that would sometimes stick with him/her. Details of that life, as if it were a faint whisper from another room in the unfamiliar house, someone telling him/her small details of the life that he/she had borrowed (stole?) for the day. \n\nDING\n\nCarolyn (or whoever was inside Carolyn) jumped in her seat again. Another customer walked into the shop. \n\nThere was a tap on her shoulder. Carolyn(?) screamed in her seat, turned, and slapped the mug that was in the barista's hand. The light brown liquid sprayed in a beautiful arc, luckily not landing on anyone's flesh. \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he/she said, looking at the barista, \"it's just been a rough night.\"\n\n\"No, no, it's okay,\" he said, eyes full of concern, \"we've all had those rough nights, I'll get you another one, on the house.\"\n\nShe/he turned back into his/her seat, and began to think about the events that had happened the night before. \n\nHe/She was Toby the day before, had lain in bed with Christie, his beautiful wife, and had awoken to the sounds of explosions, warmth billowing into the tent. \n\nThere was a man yelling at one end of the tent, what was the word?\n\nMORTAR MORTAR MORTAR INBOUND\n\n**ding**\n\nThat was the word, mortars, there were mortars falling all around the base. Toby(?), or who was previously Toby, fell out of the cot he/she was sleeping in and scrambled about on the floor, trying his/her best to get his/her bearings. There were soldiers scrambling back and forth in the tent, trying to get their rifles, trying to put on their boots, and there were those explosions, those sounds of metal colliding into earth and bellowing out those ugly roars, sending rubble into the night air. \n\nDing.\n\nThe person who was now Carolyn didn't even have a chance to figure out who he/she was that night before a mortar came crashing down into the tent, igniting everything and everyone inside, including the person who is now currently Carolyn. \n\nThe person who is now Carolyn immediately woke in the middle of the night, now inside Carolyn instead of the unlucky soldier, sweat beading out onto her brow. At first she/he didn't know if it was a dream, or if he/she had actually swapped into a soldier overnight, then swapped out because he/she died, or if the swap happened because she/he willed it to happen before he/she died. \n\nThe person who is Carolyn for the day mulled it over as she drank from the mug the barista had brought her, still twitching at every **ding**. ",
"Vic woke up and stretched. He looked down at himself only to see he was a she. Common, for this was going on for years. \n\nEver since he - she - conducted that experiment, life was different every day. Any friends she would make wouldn't recognize her the next day. \n\nGood thing her name was Vic - Victor or Vicky. Always the same name, never the same person. \n\nVic lived the life of any person, only sometimes poor and sometimes rich. It was never the same. She would go to work (according to the papers) come home, and go to sleep. One morning however, nothing changed. \n\nVic woke up in the same life as before. Same beautiful, middle-classed girl. She got up and looked to her side. Same loving husband. Would it stay was the question, but Vic loved it while it lasted and put her arm around Dick.",
"In all honesty, this was better than waking up as a high schooler. Or as bin Laden. It hasn't happened yet, but I've sort of been ruing the day I wake up as a terrorist to be honest with you. I usually wake up as somebody western, save for a few days I woke up Chinese and this weird day I woke up as a Sikh living in Dubai. \n\nGonna be honest, the latter was kind of awkward to deal with. Shaving is usually part of my daily ritual (I've discovered I should have a few rituals, regardless of who I wake up as, just to keep me sane. I've had some lapses that resulted in a few mass shootings), but you can't shave as a Sikh. That threw me off for a few months. Even on days I wake up as a woman, I can usually get away with shaving my armpits or my legs or *something*. This luckily isn't the 70s, so I can fall into my routine unquestioned.\n\nYeah, this morning could have been worse. Luckily, I've woken up as a border guard a few times. They mostly just sit around in Ford F-250s marked \"border patrol\" and wait for a call on the CB. My partners usually slept through a few illegals passing right in front of the truck. I don't say anything. I'm only in the body for 24 hours. I'm a visitor, if you will. I don't like to cause trouble they won't remember.\n\nI've done more than my fair share of that. There's a few boys in San Francisco who are probably still wanted for some temporary insanity and judgement lapses in the 70s. Some guy in Colorado was the victim of the most recent lapse in sanity.\n\nI mean, can you blame me? I don't have a real identity. I'm just someone else every morning. Before him, I was a lot of weirdos. I was a scientologist, I was a devout Mormon wife (though I doubt *that* was a recognized part of the modern Mormon church, as I've been Joseph Smith before and he wasn't preaching *that* shit), an African bush woman, a Thai sex slave in Japan, and then, to top it off, a Guantanamo prisoner. All in the same week, I tell you. I dare you to stay sane after that week. I just dare you.\n\nBut yeah, I've been a border guard. And this morning, I woke up as Jose. Jose appeared to have a lovely life named Maria. Maria was *pretty* fucking pregnant, hopefully with Jose's kid, otherwise this was all for nothing. But me and Maria woke up in the back of an 18 wheeler, with a bunch of other persons of I *assume* Mexican decent. Obviously I didn't tell her I wasn't Jose. Assumedly he'd be back tomorrow. \n\nI usually get my host's knowledge of languages. We chatted in Spanish, she wasn't feeling too good. She was getting pains on the regular, probably a sign the baby was about due.\n\nI had no idea where we were, but provided the truck was marked, border patrol wouldn't bother with us. I remember being border patrol. Somewhere around the outskirts of Las Cruces, the truck stopped for a side-of-the-road pee break. Morons. Maria was doubled over in pain at this point and the geniuses driving the truck were making it every bit conspicuous to being a truck full of illegals. They had no idea that I-25 is *loaded* with border patrol and pulling us over to use the pisser was asking for trouble, even if the truck was marked with some phony-ass business. This had to stop.\n\nThe driver asked us in broken Spanish to get back into the truck. I helped Maria up (peeing isn't easy when you're expecting to pop one out within the next few hours). I'd been timing her contractions (not my first newborn, after all), they were down to five minutes apart. She'd have grounds to be admitted to the ER soon (thank god for that stint in St. Mary's general, even if was a nerve wracking experience).\n\nI waited for the rest of my cohorts to crawl in the back of the 18-wheeler, before I headed to the cab. I didn't really have a weapon, but the driver had thrown a Pepsi can that I could twist the end off of. I did that in prison once, many years ago. I climbed into the passenger seat, the driver looking pissed as hell. Obviously his illicit cargo was supposed to stay in the back seat. Tough shit, I thought to myself as I brandished the sharpened end of my soda can.\n\n\"Listen,\" I said in perfect English, \"You need to turn around and drive back into Las Cruces. One of your cargo is about to have a baby, and by God if I'll allow this man's son to be born in the back of a flatbed.\"\n\nAmazingly, he obliged. And so, I live another day.",
"It was great, I didn't have to live my crappy life any more! I got to spend a day in the shoes of some random person and go somewhere else the next. Somehow I almost exclusively ended up as English speaker. It was a mix of good and bad; one day I'd wake up next to a really hot girl and the next I'd wake up next to a cow (or a goat, but I don't want to talk about that time). I generally try to help the people I'm in, if I can't do their job I'll call in sick and I have a strict policy of not doing any crimes they weren't going to do without me. \n\nAs time went on I got more and more loose about helping people. If they were pieces of shit I'd do them a disservice. I figured out one of my guys was a pedophile so I posted about it publicly online, he was arrested the next day. Later on I began playing jokes on some of them, in once case getting a tattoo. Before you call me horrible that person had like two free inches of skin on his body, but on the other hand it was Kermit the Frog... \n\nOne morning I had figured out I was a pro-slavery Baptist preacher so I decided to make this one interesting. That evening I drove 100 miles to the nearest gay brothel and instructed the three twinks I rented to wait until I was asleep for about an hour and start ramming me at the same time while on the phone with my wife. As far as they knew this was my way of breaking up. \n\nI learned a very important lesson that night: it takes more than an hour of sleep to make the switch. ",
"I have worn a million faces.\n\nI have lived a million lives.\n\nI have fulfilled a million promises, and shattered a million dreams.\n\nI don't know why or how it happens. All I know is that by some cosmic accident, I have become the most miserable being in the universe. Every morning I wake up in a new body, in a new house, with a new set of memories in my head. Every day I go about my business, trying not to think of the inevitable. Every day I experience heartbreak and tragedy, because every day I lose the person I love most.\n\nMost of the time it's an accident. I'll get a phone call or a visit that breaks the bad news. Sometimes it's suicide, and one time it was me that killed them, but those are stories for another day. In general, there's always crying, and drinking. A few well-meaning phone calls or text messages. Then, I cry myself to sleep and the cycle begins again, with a new life, and a new loss.\n\nI don't know why it hurts so much. They aren't even *my* memories. But that doesn't change how I feel. Whether it be a child, parent, or lover, I always feel the bitter hollowness of loss, the overwhelming numbness of grief, and the sharp pangs of regret. I've never met the people I lose, yet I've known them all my life. I am truly cursed, but I think, perhaps, that I might be a blessing in my own small way.\n\nThe way I hold on to what little sanity I have left, in the corner of my mind, is to imagine the people whose lives I stole a day of. I'm not sure what happens to them, but I like to think that they are spared that initial loss. That, in some small way, I am saving them from the pain of losing the person they love most. I am the most miserable being in the universe, but maybe, hopefully, my suffering takes a little pain from everyone else."
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[WP] A great feast has begun! You, a wandering minstrel, have been hired as entertainment. The guests pound their goblets and bellow for a ballad of great heroes past or a raunchy tune. What shall you perform?
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"Arma virumque cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris\nItaliam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit\nlitora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto\nvi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram;\nmulta quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem, 5\ninferretque deos Latio, genus unde Latinum,\nAlbanique patres, atque altae moenia Romae.\n\nMusa, mihi causas memora, quo numine laeso,\nquidve dolens, regina deum tot volvere casus\ninsignem pietate virum, tot adire labores 10\nimpulerit. Tantaene animis caelestibus irae?\n\nUrbs antiqua fuit, Tyrii tenuere coloni,\nKarthago, Italiam contra Tiberinaque longe\nostia, dives opum studiisque asperrima belli;\nquam Iuno fertur terris magis omnibus unam 15\nposthabita coluisse Samo; hic illius arma,\nhic currus fuit; hoc regnum dea gentibus esse,\nsi qua fata sinant, iam tum tenditque fovetque.\nProgeniem sed enim Troiano a sanguine duci\naudierat, Tyrias olim quae verteret arces; 20\nhinc populum late regem belloque superbum\nventurum excidio Libyae: sic volvere Parcas.\nId metuens, veterisque memor Saturnia belli,\nprima quod ad Troiam pro caris gesserat Argis—\nnecdum etiam causae irarum saevique dolores 25\nexciderant animo: manet alta mente repostum\niudicium Paridis spretaeque iniuria formae,\net genus invisum, et rapti Ganymedis honores.\nHis accensa super, iactatos aequore toto\nTroas, reliquias Danaum atque immitis Achilli, 30\narcebat longe Latio, multosque per annos\nerrabant, acti fatis, maria omnia circum.\nTantae molis erat Romanam condere gentem!\n\nVix e conspectu Siculae telluris in altum\nvela dabant laeti, et spumas salis aere ruebant, 35\ncum Iuno, aeternum servans sub pectore volnus,\nhaec secum: 'Mene incepto desistere victam,\nnec posse Italia Teucrorum avertere regem?\nQuippe vetor fatis. Pallasne exurere classem\nArgivom atque ipsos potuit submergere ponto, 40\nunius ob noxam et furias Aiacis Oilei?\nIpsa, Iovis rapidum iaculata e nubibus ignem,\ndisiecitque rates evertitque aequora ventis,\nillum expirantem transfixo pectore flammas\nturbine corripuit scopuloque infixit acuto. 45\nAst ego, quae divom incedo regina, Iovisque\net soror et coniunx, una cum gente tot annos\nbella gero! Et quisquam numen Iunonis adoret\npraeterea, aut supplex aris imponet honorem?'\n\nTalia flammato secum dea corde volutans 50\nnimborum in patriam, loca feta furentibus austris,\nAeoliam venit. Hic vasto rex Aeolus antro\nluctantes ventos tempestatesque sonoras\nimperio premit ac vinclis et carcere frenat.\nIlli indignantes magno cum murmure montis 55\ncircum claustra fremunt; celsa sedet Aeolus arce\nsceptra tenens, mollitque animos et temperat iras.\nNi faciat, maria ac terras caelumque profundum\nquippe ferant rapidi secum verrantque per auras.\nSed pater omnipotens speluncis abdidit atris, 60\nhoc metuens, molemque et montis insuper altos\nimposuit, regemque dedit, qui foedere certo\net premere et laxas sciret dare iussus habenas.\nAd quem tum Iuno supplex his vocibus usa est:\n\n'Aeole, namque tibi divom pater atque hominum rex 65\net mulcere dedit fluctus et tollere vento,\ngens inimica mihi Tyrrhenum navigat aequor,\nIlium in Italiam portans victosque Penates:\nincute vim ventis submersasque obrue puppes,\naut age diversos et disiice corpora ponto. 70\nSunt mihi bis septem praestanti corpore nymphae,\nquarum quae forma pulcherrima Deiopea,\nconubio iungam stabili propriamque dicabo,\nomnis ut tecum meritis pro talibus annos\nexigat, et pulchra faciat te prole parentem.' 75\n\nAeolus haec contra: 'Tuus, O regina, quid optes\nexplorare labor; mihi iussa capessere fas est.\nTu mihi, quodcumque hoc regni, tu sceptra Iovemque\nconcilias, tu das epulis accumbere divom,\nnimborumque facis tempestatumque potentem.' 80\n\nHaec ubi dicta, cavum conversa cuspide montem\nimpulit in latus: ac venti, velut agmine facto,\nqua data porta, ruunt et terras turbine perflant.\nIncubuere mari, totumque a sedibus imis\nuna Eurusque Notusque ruunt creberque procellis 85\nAfricus, et vastos volvunt ad litora fluctus.\nInsequitur clamorque virum stridorque rudentum.\nEripiunt subito nubes caelumque diemque\nTeucrorum ex oculis; ponto nox incubat atra.\nIntonuere poli, et crebris micat ignibus aether, 90\npraesentemque viris intentant omnia mortem.\n\nExtemplo Aeneae solvuntur frigore membra:\ningemit, et duplicis tendens ad sidera palmas\ntalia voce refert: 'O terque quaterque beati,\nquis ante ora patrum Troiae sub moenibus altis 95\ncontigit oppetere! O Danaum fortissime gentis\nTydide! Mene Iliacis occumbere campis\nnon potuisse, tuaque animam hanc effundere dextra,\nsaevus ubi Aeacidae telo iacet Hector, ubi ingens\nSarpedon, ubi tot Simois correpta sub undis 100\nscuta virum galeasque et fortia corpora volvit?'\n\nTalia iactanti stridens Aquilone procella\nvelum adversa ferit, fluctusque ad sidera tollit.\nFranguntur remi; tum prora avertit, et undis\ndat latus; insequitur cumulo praeruptus aquae mons. 105\nHi summo in fluctu pendent; his unda dehiscens\nterram inter fluctus aperit; furit aestus harenis.\nTris Notus abreptas in saxa latentia torquet—\nsaxa vocant Itali mediis quae in fluctibus aras—\ndorsum immane mari summo; tris Eurus ab alto 110\nin brevia et Syrtis urget, miserabile visu,\ninliditque vadis atque aggere cingit harenae.\nUnam, quae Lycios fidumque vehebat Oronten,\nipsius ante oculos ingens a vertice pontus\nin puppim ferit: excutitur pronusque magister 115\nvolvitur in caput; ast illam ter fluctus ibidem\ntorquet agens circum, et rapidus vorat aequore vortex.\nAdparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto,\narma virum, tabulaeque, et Troia gaza per undas.\nIam validam Ilionei navem, iam fortis Achati, 120\net qua vectus Abas, et qua grandaevus Aletes,\nvicit hiems; laxis laterum compagibus omnes\naccipiunt inimicum imbrem, rimisque fatiscunt.\n\nInterea magno misceri murmure pontum,\nemissamque hiemem sensit Neptunus, et imis 125\nstagna refusa vadis, graviter commotus; et alto\nprospiciens, summa placidum caput extulit unda.\nDisiectam Aeneae, toto videt aequore classem,\nfluctibus oppressos Troas caelique ruina,\nnec latuere doli fratrem Iunonis et irae. 130\nEurum ad se Zephyrumque vocat, dehinc talia fatur:\n\n'Tantane vos generis tenuit fiducia vestri?\nIam caelum terramque meo sine numine, venti,\nmiscere, et tantas audetis tollere moles?\nQuos ego—sed motos praestat componere fluctus. 135\nPost mihi non simili poena commissa luetis.\nMaturate fugam, regique haec dicite vestro:\nnon illi imperium pelagi saevumque tridentem,\nsed mihi sorte datum. Tenet ille immania saxa,\nvestras, Eure, domos; illa se iactet in aula 140\nAeolus, et clauso ventorum carcere regnet.'\n\nSic ait, et dicto citius tumida aequora placat,\ncollectasque fugat nubes, solemque reducit.\nCymothoe simul et Triton adnixus acuto\ndetrudunt navis scopulo; levat ipse tridenti; 145\net vastas aperit syrtis, et temperat aequor,\natque rotis summas levibus perlabitur undas.\nAc veluti magno in populo cum saepe coorta est\nseditio, saevitque animis ignobile volgus,\niamque faces et saxa volant—furor arma ministrat; 150\ntum, pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem\nconspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant;\nille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet,—\nsic cunctus pelagi cecidit fragor, aequora postquam\nprospiciens genitor caeloque invectus aperto 155\nflectit equos, curruque volans dat lora secundo.\n\nDefessi Aeneadae, quae proxima litora, cursu\ncontendunt petere, et Libyae vertuntur ad oras.\nEst in secessu longo locus: insula portum\nefficit obiectu laterum, quibus omnis ab alto 160\nfrangitur inque sinus scindit sese unda reductos.\nHinc atque hinc vastae rupes geminique minantur\nin caelum scopuli, quorum sub vertice late\naequora tuta silent; tum silvis scaena coruscis\ndesuper horrentique atrum nemus imminet umbra. 165\nFronte sub adversa scopulis pendentibus antrum,\nintus aquae dulces vivoque sedilia saxo,\nnympharum domus: hic fessas non vincula navis\nulla tenent, unco non alligat ancora morsu.\nHuc septem Aeneas collectis navibus omni 170\nex numero subit; ac magno telluris amore\negressi optata potiuntur Troes harena,\net sale tabentis artus in litore ponunt.\nAc primum silici scintillam excudit Achates,\nsuccepitque ignem foliis, atque arida circum 175\nnutrimenta dedit, rapuitque in fomite flammam.\nTum Cererem corruptam undis Cerealiaque arma\nexpediunt fessi rerum, frugesque receptas\net torrere parant flammis et frangere saxo.\n\nAeneas scopulum interea conscendit, et omnem 180\nprospectum late pelago petit, Anthea si quem\niactatum vento videat Phrygiasque biremis,\naut Capyn, aut celsis in puppibus arma Caici.\nNavem in conspectu nullam, tris litore cervos\nprospicit errantis; hos tota armenta sequuntur 185\na tergo, et longum per vallis pascitur agmen.\nConstitit hic, arcumque manu celerisque sagittas\ncorripuit, fidus quae tela gerebat Achates;\nductoresque ipsos primum, capita alta ferentis\ncornibus arboreis, sternit, tum volgus, et omnem 190\nmiscet agens telis nemora inter frondea turbam;\nnec prius absistit, quam septem ingentia victor\ncorpora fundat humi, et numerum cum navibus aequet.\nHinc portum petit, et socios partitur in omnes.\nVina bonus quae deinde cadis onerarat Acestes 195\nlitore Trinacrio dederatque abeuntibus heros,\ndividit, et dictis maerentia pectora mulcet:",
"The great feast was upon us. The valiant king had just slayed yet another army that tried to oppose him. I, the traveling minstrel, lute in hand, stood on the table listening to the clanging of the goblets. They were cheering me on, some wanting a tale of heroism, some wanting a rather raunchy tune.\n\nI slowly began to strum the strings and form a song in my mind.\n\n*Oh great king,*\n\n*You have slayed the evil queen,*\n\n*Which is a tragedy in itself,*\n\n*As unlike your wife,*\n\n*She was a beautiful elf.*\n\nThe room fell silent. The king’s wife did not laugh, but I could see the hints of a smile light up the king’s face.\n\n“You there,” I pointed.\n\n*There once was a man,*\n\n*Who smelled worse than a trash can,*\n\n*For he was too fat,*\n\n*And this made him a pain to look at.*\n\nA couple drunken laughs erupted from throughout the room. I locked eyes with one of the men and pointed, then continued.\n\n*And you good sir,*\n\n*Will need a chauffeur,*\n\n*As your breath reeks of wine,*\n\n*Your wife will be pissed,*\n\n*If you’re drinking does not subsist.*\n\nA man in armor, perhaps a knight, stood up and yelled at me.\n\n“Just who do you think your are?” he shouted for all the room to here. I wasn’t fazed, though, and continued to strum my lute, a new tune coming to mind.\n\n*I see you’ve raised your sword,*\n\n*And its size leaves me floored,*\n\n*Yet with as angry as you are,*\n\n*You must be hiding a scar,*\n\n*For big men like you don’t cry,*\n\n*As it would be unbecoming of a guy,*\n\n*If you ask me you are overcompensating,*\n\n*For you must have a hard time populating,*\n\n*Although your sword is large,*\n\n*Women will find you hold no charge,*\n\n*Mess with me not, you’ll find,*\n\n*For I am an insult comedian,*\n\n*And I’ll make fun of the blind.*\n\nAnd so the man sat down in defeat as I continued my song, moving through the crowd, making fun of the weak and strong.\n\n-272",
"*I am The People's Bard, and I was born for this prompt. Like my hero, Puke, I was drinking while I wrote and recorded this, so please excuse any sloppiness. The lyrics are below; you can listen to the song [here](http://clyp.it/iucl3lad).*\n\n**Puke And The Dragon**\n\nFine ladies and good men, I ask you to sit tight\n\nwhile I sing the tale of a heroic knight.\n\nHis King called him Sir, but his friends called him Puke\n\nsince the day he vomited on the shoes of a Duke.\n\nYou see, our soldier liked to sip an infinite amount of wine,\n\nand this made him a touch sloppy, but always a good time.\n\nOne day Puke's King needed the best Knight in the land,\n\nand Puke wasn't quite sober, but he raised his hand.\n\nThe King commanded, \"Rid the cave of its dragon-kind,\n\nand I will give you whatever you'd like.\"\n\nSo Puke grabbed his sword and a skin of wine,\n\nand took his fine steed out for a ride.\n\nThe cave's entrance was dark, but Puke could see through bleary eyes:\n\nblack smoke billowed slowly out from deep inside.\n\nHe swallowed a mouthful and shrugged. He climbed to the entrance way\n\nand yelled, \"Dragon, why don't you come out to play?\"\n\nAnd the beast answered his call with a roar:\n\n\"Who dares come to my door?\"\n\n\"My name is Puke, and I've come to make an offer on this cave.\n\nI promise to deliver any item you desire if you simply go away.\"\n\nThe Dragon screamed \"I want the crown!\" and laughed at this man, whom he planned to eat,\n\nbut his laughter stopped short when Puke said, \"Give me one week.\"\n\nThe Dragon flew off to plague another land, with their with their rendezvous set,\n\nand Puke went home--after stopping at every bar he met.\n\nPuke entered the Royal Hall and said, \"My King, the Dragon is gone;\n\nit was no easy battle, but I finished him off.\"\n\n\"Oh, Puke, your King is a man of his word.\n\nTell me what your courage is worth.\"\n\n\"My Liege, I just want the crown on your head,\n\nand a cask of wine and a loaf of bread.\"",
"Rick the Minstrel swayed, looking in the audience for a familiar face, that familiar face. And there she was, peeking out from behind a portly knight! He took in a deep breath, preparing to perform the \"Edward's Stand\", the moving melody about a castle collapsing around the fabled warrior, but as he started to strum his mandolin, the lyrics left him. \n\nRick would have to wing it:\n\nHe looked to the lady.\n\n*We're no strangers to love,*\n\nHer clan had such strict customs when it came to courtship.\n\n*You know the rules, and so do I.*\n\nIt was now or never. Would she accept him?\n\n*A full commitment's what I'm thinking of--\nYou wouldn't get this from any other guy.*\n\nThe crowd started slapping the benches in rhythm. A piece of mutton bounced into the air.\n\n*I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling,\nGotta make you understand!*\n\nHer fair face flushed.\n\n*Never gonna give you up,\nNever gonna let you down.\nNever gonna run around and desert you!\nNever gonna make you cry,\nNever gonna say goodbye,\nNever gonna tell a lie and hurt you!*\n\nIt was working. She was beaming, and the guests were taking their fill of cider, cheerful and discordant hums filling the great hall. And as long as they were happy, as long as she was happy, Rick would sing.\n\n...I'm so sorry. I had to."
] | 4
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**Think about the following:**
What does this mean for the world?
Is it a sign of something more to come?
What happened to them after they were last seen?
How do they react to the world now, especially those who have been long presumed to be dead?
What is the government's official statement regarding everyone who is returning?
What is the reaction of the family and friends of those who have their loved one back?
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[WP] All the people who ever went missing inexplicably or without a trace start reappearing in their thousands. When asked about their disappearance, they all utter the same response.
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[
"*Found this during the Berkeley job.*\n\n*It's real. Don't go home.*\n\n>**Item #:** SCP-████\n>\n>**Object Class:** Keter\n>\n>**Special Containment Procedures:** Each instance of Item SCP-████-1 is to be locked in an individual cell at least five (5) meters long and wide, and at least two (2) meters high. Per recommendations from the Ethics Committee, each instance of SCP-████-1 has been assigned to groups of twenty (20) to fifty (50); once daily, for a two-hour period, each group must be taken to a common area, where instances will be permitted to interact with each other while under the guard of no less than five (5) security personnel. At the end of this two-hour period, each instance of SCP-████-1 is to be searched for harmful or stolen materials before being escorted back to its cell.\n>\n>Each containment cell for SCP-████-1 is to be equipped with a microphone connected to an automated system. All recorded audio shall be fed into NLP systems, which will analyze anything spoken by SCP-████-1 and forward recordings of interest to research staff. Recorded audio shall then be transferred to servers at Site ███ for long-term storage.\n>\n>**Description:** SCP-████-1 refers to a human who manifested in the middle of the Mojave Desert on June 21, 20██. Each instance of SCP-████-1 had been reported missing during the three decades prior to their manifestation; the ensuing investigations yielded no leads, and the cases remain unsolved. There are 281,016 instances of SCP-████-1 currently in containment; 38 instances died in containment (see addenda), and 4 instances are thought to be in the custody of the Global Occult Coalition.\n>\n>SCP-████-2 refers to an anomalous entity referred to by instances of SCP-████-1 as \"The Collector\"; all known information about SCP-████-2 comes from descriptions given by instances of SCP-████-1. SCP-████-2 is described as an eight-foot-tall humanoid figure covered in steel chains. It is stated to have an interest in collecting human specimens. Instances of SCP-████-1 have given conflicting statements about SCP-████-2's demeanor; some describe it as a kindhearted caretaker, while others describe it as an abusive jailer. At present, SCP-████-2 is not contained.\n>\n>**Addendum:** On September ██, 20██, thirty-two (32) instances of SCP-████-1 attempted to escape containment. During a two-hour group session, three (3) instances initiated a physical altercation, wounding five (5) instances. The wounded instances exaggerated their injuries, managing to escape from security personnel while being transported to the containing Site's medical bay. These instances freed twenty-eight (28) other instances, including the three that initiated the plan. Twenty-nine (29) instances of SCP-████-1 were lost during subsequent attempts to restore containment.\n>\n>Interviews with the remaining four (4) escapees failed to elicit new information. Each escapee refused to speak, repeating the phrase, \"Out of the frying pan and into the fire,\" until the interview was ended. As a disciplinary measure, these instances were denied group visitation privileges for the next two months; furthermore, these instances were reassigned to separate groups, to prevent further collusion.\n>\n>Since the escape attempt, security procedures for SCP-████-1 group sessions have been revised.\n>\n>**Addendum:** On November ██, 20██, an incident occurred, involving the four (4) instances of SCP-████-1 that had previously attempted to escape containment. During their next group session, each instance stood up and announced to their groups, \"It's time to spread the good word!\" The instances then proceeded to [DATA EXPUNGED] a total of five (5) fatalities before security staff could intervene.\n>\n>The four (4) affected instances of SCP-████-1 were subsequently terminated.",
"I held her close, trying to memorize the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the sound of her breath anew. Each moment precious.\n\n“Seven.” \n\nThat’s what each person had said. It was a message, though they couldn’t tell from who. Just as they couldn’t remember where they had been.\n\nSeven minutes? Seven hours? Seven days? \n\nNo one knew. People hoped. People prayed. \n\nPeople despaired.\n\n“What are you thinking about?” She asked, playing with the hair on my chest. She knew it drove me wild, but even I was too exhausted to do more than simply lie there and enjoy the feeling of togetherness.\n\nI grunted non-committal. Why spoil the moment.\n\nI should have known better.\n\n“What will come, will come,” she sighed. Her breath on my chest sending goose bumps up and down my entire body. \n\nIt was Sunday. The seventh day. What would happened tonight? Would it end? Would the world change?\n\nIt certainly had over the last seven. Many of the Vanished's families were struggling through mounds of paperwork to just see their loved one. That I had even gotten to spend a moment with Marie was a miracle. Would another occur tonight?\n\n“Just thinking of what I was doing last Sunday at this time.”\n\n“Bo’Dids?” I could feel her face smile.\n\n“Yes. With Rob and Matt.” \n\n“Is that where you were?”\n\nIt had been. Watching the news as people seemed to walk out of the woodwork. The Vanished, as they called them now, appearing quiet literally everywhere. One moment an empty alley, the next dozens of people streaming out of it. \n\nIsolated parks, suddenly sprouting people like weeds.\n\nAuthorities struggled to gather and contain them. To put them into a Quarantine that was still in effect.\n\nThat I was a high ranking member of the CDC meant I had been called upon to evaluate and assist. I Had rushed to the camps being set up to isolate those who had returned, just as suddenly as they had vanished, to help ensure they didn't carry anything back with them, disease or otherwise, from wherever they had been.\n\nLike I said, I was one of the lucky ones.\n\nThe message had gotten out, as well as many of the Vanished. It was inevitable on this scale. But human nature was to panic at what it couldn’t understand. After the first murders, most of those that hadn’t had been corralled in the camps returned of their own volition.\n\n“Yes.”\n\nShe lifted her head, brown hair trailing across her neck and tickling me. Her deep brown eyes gazing into mine. “It’s okay.”\n\nIt’s not okay. Seven Days! That’s not enough!\n\nI wanted to scream. We should have an eternity together. “Why not seven weeks? Seven months? Years wouldn’t be enough time with you. How can you be sure it’s today?” \n\nShe smiled. “I can’t. I have to admit that. But it feels right. Seven days. Seven days for us to return to those we love. To bring the world a message. To prepare.” I could almost hear the sermons being screamed across the airwaves with a similar message, though with a less peaceful tone.\n\n“And I had to waste five of them just getting to you.”\n\n“But you got to me.” She smiled.\n\nI took a calming breath. If seven days were all we had been given I wouldn’t waste another minute with regrets.\n\nShe pulled herself up to lay on top of me, hair cascading around us and shutting out the signs of the small tent I had managed to procure.\n\nShe lowered her face to mine, pressing her lips insistently, demanding.\n\nAn eternity in that kiss.\n\nSeven. \n\nI wanted to curse that number.\n\nI wanted to bless it.\n\n"
] | 2
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"They Couldn't hit an Elephant at this Dist-" How do you react?
Those are the actual last words of United States [General John Sedgwick](http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Sedgwick)
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[WP] You are a footsoldier in an epic battle between two powerful nations, and your commanding officer has just offered up his ironic last words
|
[
"\"They Couldn't hit an Elephant at this Dist-\"\n\n\nI blinked rapidly for a few seconds. The general seemed to sway back and forth and then pitch forward and lay still. I, and the rest of my team didn't hesitate to throw ourselves on the ground with the dead man. Better by our own initiative then a sniper's bullet. Not that they deserved the title sniper until today. Or even rifleman. \n\n\n\"Special-Ops Unit 241, our target has been killed, repeat the general is dead. Mission Failure.\"\n\n\n\"Unit 241 what is your position?\"\n\n\n\"The extraction point\"\n\n\n\"Then why....?\"\n\n\n\"The general felt the need to taunt his former captors.\"\n\n\n\"Always had a dramatic flair, that one. The helicopter's still working correct?\"\n\n\n\"Yes sir, just wanted to report failure to recover the general.\"\n\n\n\"Don't worry about it, we'll get a new one in 2-3 business days.\"\n\n\n\nI hesitantly raised my head over the stairway railing, then signaled for the rest of the team to do the same.\n\n\nLucky shot. They really couldn't hit an elephant at this distance.",
"“They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist-”\n\nColonel Leoric's visor turned red as the high velocity, long distance round penetrated and exploded on organic contact. It was an impressive shot, about 5km, but obviously not impossible. The rest of the company stood silent, mouths gaping, as the Colonel's last inspiring speech sputtered in front of them. His body held rigid only by his exo-suit.\n\nI pondered the words, “elephants” were a near mythical creature, said to be the largest land animal in the world at one point. I imagined them as large as the GE-Mk II shock tanks heading the assault. It was an alien concept to imagine organic material becoming that large. I wondered how their skeletons would support the bulk without the engineered super alloys that kept the GEs upright and nigh impenetrable.\n\nAll that flashed through my mind in moments as the slow pulsing red light on Leoric's exo-suit was the only change the static landscape. It indicated the occupant was unrecoverable. Red, off. Red, off. The main hydraulic pistons of the suit remained solid; he remained unmoved by the scene.\n\nShortly after an auto-medic retrieved the newly re-purposed coffin-suit and a Major was seen ushered to the shallow rise in the Colonel's place, rather reluctantly I thought. His improvised speech did not include any insults to the accuracy of the enemy, but it didn't matter much as it was cut short by the hail of Ground Eviscerator fire that found our position.\n\nI wondered how far an elephant would have been able to launch that payload. "
] | 2
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I always wished I could do this.
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[WP] You have a unique way of handling headaches: projecting them into other objects (often destroying them) or other people. Today you happen to have a particularly bad migraine.
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[
"This is a tough one. My vision is swimming, the colors shimmering in my peripheral vision. The sound of the shower running hits my nerves like jackhammers raining onto my head. I'm definitely giving this one away. But to whom? Or what?\nI ponder this question on the drive to work. I should have called in sick, but they're busy with the holiday rush and anyway, I know that once I get rid of this migraine I'll be fine.\n\nAs soon as I enter the Shop 'n' Save, I feel like I've made a mistake. I could give my migraine to the cash registers, but I'm afraid for the safety of the other cashiers. I could give it to any number of inanimate objects, but the last time I gave a headache like this to an object the ensuing implosion left a whole class of children without a school gymnasium for the rest of the school year.\n\nNo, like it or not the least destructive way to deal with this will be to give it to a person.\n\nTo whom?\n\nMy store manager is a real pinhead. Look at him over there, with his fucking tie and short sleeves. Who does he think he is? He deserves this pain, but he'll probably just take it out on the rest of us.\n\nI put on my smock and scan by habit, trying not to wince when the scanner beeps with each item.\nI could give it to this old woman who is paying with a check. Who even does that anymore? But no, she's not doing anything *wrong* necessarily. Just annoying.\n\nAnnoying...well, that kid over there who is crying because his mother won't let him dump ketchup on the floor is a piece of crap. But he'll probably just scream harder.\n\nI finish the ringing up the old woman, wait an eternity for her check and hand her a receipt. No customer left in line just now. I'll keep looking around.\n\nThe automatic doors open and I hear the sound of stomping. I turn and see her: mid 40s, face screwed up in a permascowl.\nPlease don't be coming toward me...shit. She's walking directly to my register.\n\nI force a weak smile. \"Good morning ma'am. How can I help you today?\"\n\n\"You can't.\" How does she know that? There are a lot of problems I can resolve on my own.\n\"I need to speak to your manager immediately.\"\n\nI smile more strongly. I think I just solved my problem.",
"This is it. This is the big one. I can see it in my veins, pulsating, throbbing- why doesn't it ever stop? The pain this time is too much to bear- the world feels like it's going to collapse on my head. Ever since that god damn stupid war, they just didn't stop. Hour after hour until I black out because my brain can't handle it. I never would have thought the military would have \n\n* * *\n\nI woke up, once again in my bed, pain invading every single neuron of my mind. Is this what they do to keep us in line? To keep us from fighting back after we see the truth? I swear, I swear it's them. The God damn government did this to me. I bet they didn't anticipate me being able to cause damage with it though. That's something I'm mildly grateful for. If I ever see a god damn grey-headed senator I'll blow his fucking head into\n\n* * *\n\nThe pain is surging, coming back harder and harder in waves. I scream and cry and beat the wall as if that's going to help. I glance at my piece over on the chair: a nicely polished .45 M1911, a bargain I got from the most recent gun show. I can end it all, end all the pain right now, all it takes is just one\n\n* * *\n\nAfter awaking, I tried to calm down by cleaning the pistol and attempt to formulate some real, coherent thoughts. Instead of them being suicide-related, I could only concentrate about ending others. Something, after my experience in the war, I didn't think I would want to do ever again. But the thoughts were there, and they kept coming, and they were convincing. War showed me that the only way to get shit done is to kill; I know what I have\n\n* * *\n\nAfter hearing again and again about government bullshit, suits killing innocent good people, I couldn't take it anymore. My head continued to burst and the pain only grew stronger; instead of killing or destroying to relieve it, I was charging it's power. All this pain will be worth it soon enough. I collected all my thoughts that I could salvage and put them into a manuscript- telling the world about the truth. I then packed my bags and started driving. I drove for a bit in my truck and happened upon the building: Alfred P. Murrah Federal- where those fuckers worked at killing good citizens like me. I got out of my truck, and focused, really, really focused all my energy in my head. The pain was so bad it stole my hearing and put a damper on my vision. It didn't matter, I could see the target. The pain was excruciating, I was dying, but then my eyes found one of those suits in a window and \n\n* * * \n\nIt could not have been ten or fifteen minutes later. I lay about a few hundred feet from the building, which was now half demolished and set ablaze, filled with screams and blood and guts. I felt great. The relief was better than anything I had ever felt in the world, and all the energy sent to the feds to boot. My mind was now clear and I could see everything- I must have got at least a hundred of them. You're welcome America. As the building continued to crumble, I quickly hopped in my truck, which I noticed seemed to sustain a little damage to the back, and drove away with a big grin on my face. After some time I turned onto I-35, I was scot-free\n\n* * *\n\nAnother ache came, albeit smaller- I found myself in a cell. A jail cell. This can't be good. A blue pig came wobbling up to the bars looking at me with his dirty pig eyes, he then opened his dirty pig mouth:\n\n\"You're coming with me McVeigh.\""
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