Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] The sun begins to expand, and man is forced to go underground in order to survive. But then, the earth's core begins to heat up...	[ "You're kidding.\n\nYeah, it's heating up.\n\nHow much?\n\nEnough that we've got a real big problem.\n\nA silence is shared among the Core's best researchers. \n\nHow long has it been since the Swelling?\n\nI have no fucking clue. Obviously nobody is alive anymore who was there when it was \"happening\".\n\nYork. It happened. Why do you not get that?\n\nSeriously? No one is around anymore with a legitimate testimony. There are no records of it. I mean, for all we know, if we were actually able to muster the resources and drill up, you really think there's just going to be a fucking fiery mass of air? It's just more dirt. For infinity. It's fucking science.\n\nI get it. \n\nNo, you apparently don't! There's a def-con one disaster brewing and you're asking about fairy tales. We need a solution.\n\nRight, so when we try to cool off a 1,200 kilometer wide white-hot hunk of rapidly spinning iron with and fail, then what?\n\nWe won't fail because we cannot.\n\nWe will fail because we are tiny, fleshy, organic beings trying to keep the largest, hottest, and most dangerous object we know of from going about its natural activity. Do I even need to mention the last and only time we tried to venture to the Core?\n\nYeah, yeah. They all died.\n\nThat's right they all died. And who knows how. I can guarantee you it was not a peaceful death. What we need to do is leave the Core if for no other reason than because there's no other choice. We must drill up. \n\n\n(Have to leave for class. May finish later.)" ]	1
	[WP] "Why are you here?"	[ "The words were ringing in her ears; her mind had tried to find an answer, sparked off into all different possible responses and froze, not knowing which would be the right one to say. She was standing, her hands by her sides, clenching into balls and releasing, a nervous tic. She had spent hours apprehensively deliberating whether she should come tonight. Her mother had pushed her too. To get out more, to make friends, to have fun. \n\nSandra stood slightly swaying on her feet by the door. Pinpoints of sweat had broken out all over her. Her brain felt hot like it was overheating, melting down. There were people looking now. Slowly people had noticed her standing there and they became more interested as time went by. Every breath was short gasps of air. She knew that she was close to hyperventilating. Not here! her mind screamed. Not here. Think of the embarrassment! But this was already embarrassing enough, wasn’t it?\n\nSandra heard April, the girls whose party this was, speak those words again. Her forehead glistened, sweat beading. Breaths short, raspy. The edges of her vision grayed and wavered. Her head felt light and like it was only attached to her body by the tiniest thread. \n\n“What are you doing here?” April asked again. She laughed. Her laugh was rancorous and cut deep. “Hello? Earth to Sandra.”\n\nWith tears stinging at the corners of her eyes Sandra found the strength to turn and walk back out the door. Her legs quivered and she had to grab the handrail to hold because she was so afraid of falling down. The tears welled up in her eyes doubling her vision. She bit off a sob that had tried to escape her throat. \n\n“Jesus Christ, Sandra. Where are you going?” April said. “I was kidding, get in here! You never come out. It’s great to see you.” \n", "\"Why?\" I mutter, chuckling to myself, \"A number of reasons.\"\n\nThe buzzing light above me flickers slightly, sending the claustrophobic room into darkness, then to light. The cold steel walls, shiny and polished, set a certain feel to the room. One that can only be described as unnerving, but to the man in my head it's nothing more than annoying. \n\n\"Well, do you mind explaining these reasons?\" He speaks slowly, warily. \n\n\"Okay... picture this if you will,\" I begin, leaning forward with my elbows on the metallic table. \"Three years ago to date I was going about my business, sitting in a foldout chair at a need to know location outside a certain government complex. One that is fabled in the US. That many associate with secrecy... and the paranormal.\" \n\nMy words come out with an abnormal emphasis on each word that causes the other man to shift around uncomfortably. \n\n\"Well I was sitting there alone for several hours looking through a telescope that allowed me access to the base... visually of course. I watched for hours, watching, waiting, for something. I didn't have a clue what I was looking for. Something odd? Something different? Not... a... clue... but, to my surprise, I did see... and experience... something.\" \n\nI pause only to glance up at the other. He watches me quietly. \n\n\"Well...\"\n\n\"Isn't that why I'm here?\" I say, scoffing at him, \"You have the file right there. Go ahead... read it. Tell me why I'm here.\" \n\nHe sighs, opening the folder filled with documents. \"Let's see then.\" He says with an almost mocking tone. \n\nLooking down, he grows quiet, Truly invested in what has been written down. A look of curiosity floods his face, then awe, then horror. \n\n\"What the...\" He says in a quivering voice and jumping from his chair. His eyes are glued to me as he backs up to the door, and quickly reaching for the handle. \n\nI shake my head slowly, a grin spreading across my lips. \"Didn't like what you saw?\" My words are cold, becoming more malicious with each syllable as the man before me begins gasping for air. \n\n(I know it's not that good. Oh well, blaming it on being tired.)", "\"Why are you here?\"\n\nThe clear voice cut through the fog, continuing on until it pierced through James. His left-hand began to tremble, as it so often did, and he held it steady with his right.\n\nHe was closer now, his pace slowing, dreading the inevitable confrontation. His knees felt weak, and his mind scrambled for some semblance of an answer. The words began to twist together, he could feel the response, but wasn't quite able to find it. And just as he reached it, nearly able to grasp it, he saw her.\n\nShe stood on the steps detailing the entrance to the building behind. The purple streaks in her tidy brown hair stood out fiercely against the monotone gray he had once thought of as a second home. She had her arms crossed, the familiar mannerism torturing him more than even the sight of her could. He built up the courage, wavering and waning, feeling it pulse throughout him, filling him completely, and met her gaze. \n\nHer eyes cut through him.\n\nHe'd thought he was ready. Prepared for days. And yet, no amount of preparation could have readied him for the raw emotion in her eyes. It was an odd mix. Pain, fear, sorrow, hatred, rage, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of love still. \n\nJames still hadn't answered her. He searched for the words, but they once again escaped him. It was as if the fog itself was shrouding them, protecting them from him, and he deserved no less. He deserved much worse, in his opinion. \n\nIf only the fog could have protected her from him. \n\n\"Sal, please.\" James began.\n\nBut he stopped, because no apology was enough, and he knew no words could ever be enough. He loved her, and longed for her entirely. But he wasn't good for her, and he knew even if she forgave him, he could never forgive himself.\n\nWhy am I here? he thought, and with that thought, left. He heard a quiet sob from behind, a familiar sob, but didn't turn back.\n\nSometimes you don't belong with the people you love, James thought, and sometimes you never will. ", "\"For every good man,\" the robed woman spoke slowly, \"there lives ten bad ones.\" \n\n\"What makes you say that?\" Horace kept eye contact with her. \n\n\"Experience.\" She said the word with a matter of fact tone, dropping the silk robe to her feet. She wore nothing underneath. \"Which are you?\"\n\nOnce a whore and soon a Queen, the story of Lumen Val'dorah was known in every fief of the Zandali Kingdom. The woman whose beauty brought her from nothing to ruler. Even now, she allowed any noble to see her. It was only a matter of time before someone hired a man like Horace. \n\nHis eyes shifted to her body, laying on her ivory skin for a few seconds before going back to her eyes. \"And which am I?\" \n\nShe smiled, standing in a position that added to her curved waist, though she didn't need to do so. Val'dorah kept quiet. \n\n\"Why bring the subject up if you won't speak further on it?\" Horace's voice was lacking of any emotion, but then, it always was.\n\n\"I was just wondering where the other nine are.\" \n\nThis time Horace smiled. He stepped forward and sat down on the bed, also silk, before pulling two silver coins from his purse. \"Why do you still do this?\" \n\nVal'dorah sat down next to him, one leg at a time, and placed a hand on his chest, though it was ultimately pointless as Horace still had his chain-mail on. She raised an eyebrow at him. \n\n\"Two silver coins,\" he twiddled them in his thumbs, \"to sleep with the future Queen. I've spent more on alley whores and you've more money then any thousand of them. So I ask you, why do you do what you do?\" \n\nVal'dorah opened her mouth to answer, but said nothing as her eyes fixed on the contents of Horace's purse. She spotted his dirk. \"Why are you here?\" \n\nHorace let out a small breath as he drew the blade, leaving the silver pieces on the bed sheets.. \"I ask because I do what others call distasteful work myself, though I come from a family of absurd wealth. I don't often meet others like me.\" \n\nVal'dorah didn't say anything. \n\n\"The King would have your head if he knew you still did this, yet you risk it, for two coins?\" \n\nShe kept quiet. \n\n\"Why?\" \n\nVal'dorah swallowed. \"I enjoy it.\" \n\nHorace nodded, letting out another breath. \"As do I.\" \n\nVal'dorah's screams wold have caused three swordsmen men to storm in, all dressed as merchants, had they still been alive to hear. " ]	4
Crimson filled the room as the athlete fell and was devoured by the swarm	[WP] A zombie eats a brain and experiences memories, the zombie does not know whether if it's his or the victims but with each new brain is the zombie gaining humanity or losing it?	[ "Who am I? After the first time I ate a human brain I was flooded with memory's, joy, sadness, death, lust. For a split second I felt human again. But who am I? I roamed around looking for more survivors, lurking for memory's, I guess you could say it was my gateway drug. I remember being a rich Doctor saving life's, I also remember living in the streets stealing to survive. Each time I eat I become more human but less of who I was before. Each time I feast on brains I forgot who I once was, but I feel human by reliving these memory's. Who am I? As I roam the streets I notice a woman my age(I think) running, I easily catch up and feast but before I eat I look into her eyes and I think I remember her. Before I bite she screams George, I stop and look again but that name isn't me. I feast and I start to remember who she was, she dated George but he got turned, he looks like me but I don't remember him. Who am I? I'm not just one wandering zombie I'm many memory's trapped in a soulless body doomed to walk and feast on humans for eternity. These memory's make me feel human but the more I feast the less human I am. There is no escape from what I am, I may remember these memory's but it's like playing a video game, you see the characters life but it doesn't make you them. I like to think I'm becoming human each time I feast but deep down I know I'm becoming the monsters these people fear. Help me.\n\nEdit: I'm not very good at spelling and grammar but I have always wanted to give writing prompts a shot. Criticism is welcome. " ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2154, the apocalypse has taken place. There are only a few hundred decent human beings left and the only music that has survived is U2.	[ "As U2's with or without you blares the survivors gather around a body in a record store. All the cd cases, record sleeves, and various other containers are skrewn about the store all of them are empty, except the U2 ones. A big pile of U2 cds burn brightly, the only light in the store. All the survivors look down at a body of young man. His brains were blown out all over the wall behind him. In his hand a gun rested. On the wall it read,\n\n \"If you are here I'm sorry.\"", "Once the initial shock wore off, the few of us that were left realized the opportunity we had been given. Yes, we had lost our former lives, but as the old world burned, so did corruption, warfare, and greed. We still had our lives, and with the world left empty, all had a place to settle and rebuild. \n\nWe even had music! Not the best, to be sure, but we could create more after our new culture stabilized. All told, we had everything we could ask for, and the future looked bright.\n\nLoneliness can poison even the strongest men. Most of us got by without too much trouble, but every day, more and more lost themselves to insanity. As their numbers grew, the dark village they created became the new worlds first bogeyman. We could hear them at night, hear them as they chanted. \"Uno, dos, tres, catorce, uno, dos, tres, catorce.\" Night after night they raved, piercing the darkness like a cold wind. \n\nThen one night, it was quiet. The young ones had their first peaceful sleep in months, but we elders were more afraid then ever. That was the night they came, the night that would forever be known as \"Bloody Sunday\". Our city burned in the fires of a new religious fury. \"All glory to Bono! All glory to the Edge!\" they sang as they killed all who resisted. The survivors were dragged to the city square, where we met our new leader.\n\n\"Hello my people, hello! I can see the doubt in your eyes, but fear not! This is a beautiful day! We can once again share our one life with each other, my sisters and brothers. We shall carry each other into a glorious new day. Together, we will rebuild this broken land into a city of shining lights. I know that the mysterious way that we have lived has left you with little trust in us, but if you will lend your hand, we can give you all the things you have been looking for. Or you can die right here, if that is what you want. Join us or don't, that is your choice, but I promise, we will take control this earth, and we will do it with or without you.\" " ]	2
Of course a metaphysical interpretation of this sentence is very interesting to me, but there are also many terrestrial ways to write the story. You could also chose to ignore the speech marks and write concerning that. Regardless, I hope you enjoy writing something for this prompt. Inspired by a song, but I'd rather the prompt be written around that sentence rather than the song as a whole.	[WP] "I don't belong here. It was a mistake imprisoning my soul."	[ "Since the day I turned 13, my damned father kept me in this cell block to rot. A mistake he called me as I grew up, nothing but a putrid little slime on the face of his world. And my older significant brother, destined to be the new King of \"Landonsnow\". What of my mother? I don't know. Cast away when I was 5 I think. I stopped thinking of her years ago. Completely forgot what she looked like. The cell I was in, cold... So cold I had completely forgotten what \"warm\" was. My skin was oily, filthy to the touch. We had no hygiene in the cell block. No suprise if a tooth would of fallen out on its own. The food could have lent a hand in that. The food? Terrible. The word slop sounded like the most amazing meal we could have compared to, what ever they served us. No real clean places to eat in your cells. Just eat where it was thrown into your cell. We laugh when people try to scoop up the food with there hand and put it back on the trays. Better to just eat it where it lies. Every one had a cell buddy. No we didn't share cells with any one. Those were what we called you if you were acceptable to talk to, and within seeing and talking distance from our own personal cell. Me? Yea I had one. One. Luke Cristler is what he called himself. And me? Jack Webbler. I wasn't worthy enough to have the last name of the royal family, so they called up one of the maids and asked for there last name. Fancy right? No. That had to. Den one of the most common last names in the town. Webbler. Every one and there friend must of had that name. I've been in this holding cell for 8 years and couldn't think or find a way out of that cell. It had been so long since I've seen sun light. I was so damn pale I was as white as i could possibly be. I hear a rat screach as if it had just been stepped on. Clinging of metal is what I heard, as one of the guards come walking down the hall. Maybe to deliver our dinner, or breakfast? It was hard to tell what time of day since all the food was the same. They usually come down to retrieve dead bodies possibly. But no. This guard looked different from the rest. He looked more noble, higher ranked. I couldn't think of the word but it was on the tip of my tongue. Holy felt like a decent word but my language hadn't improved much over the years. He had a slight frown on his face. Disappointed in the condition of all the cells. But suprised to see me. I didn't know him but he looked like he knew me. I didn't know what he was doing down here, but my heart skipped the most painful beat it had ever skipped. The man pulled out a ring of keys. My eyes were wide. Every one and there cell buddies hushed as they turned towards my cell. The man seemed to have trouble finding which key belonged to my cell. It felt like hours went by as he was checking each and every key. Fourth from the last, he turned my cell lock slowly. The door creaked very loudly. Some of the rust was tearing away. I don't know what came to me. I rushed into the door knocking the man back. I brushed up against a dagger on his waist and it came to me. I withdrew the dagger from the sheathe and stabbed him in his thigh. I covered his mouth with all my force to keep him from screaming. That didn't matter, the prisoners were yelling and cheering up a riot. I dragged his boddy in to my cell and locked it. You bet I remembered which key was mine. I turn to Luke, he looks like he had a lot of adrediline pumping in his veins to. My fingers were shaking, I must have tried 101 keys and none of them worked. I look up with disappointment into Luke's eyes. He turns and gasps what seems to have been all the air in the room. I turn my head slightly. Just to get the butt of a sword into the corner of my eye. They showed up. They. I don't know why I thought I could get away with it. But the blood was blinding my right eye as I slowly past out. When I awoke which felt like days later, I was back I'm my cell. But things felt worse. I was strapped to a wooden board, it was up against my cell wall facing the rusty cold bars. My limbs were tied up tight and stretched hard to these straps. And outside my cell, my Father, and my older brother. I hated to see there faces but, I felt the urge to just let them know how much I really missed them. Tears were running down my face they changed so much. There was someone in my cell room. It was that holy noble man. My father gave the man a Knod and said \"proceed\". The holy man started turning a wheel. My limbs started to feel tighter and tighter. Tears were literaly being forced out of my eyes. The last words I could here come from the holy man before my own scream were, \"I don't belong here. It was a mistake imprisoning my soul.\"", "I don't belong in this marriage. It was a mistake.\n\n\"You are an energy vampire,\" I finally said to him one day, \"You have leeched my soul and I don't want to be sapped anymore.\" \n\n\"You have sucked me dry,\" he replied.\n\nHe always answers like this when a legitimate complaint has been raised, simply boomerangs my comment with no context or legitimacy. It's as if he waits for me to have an idea before claiming it for himself, a thought vampire.\nIf he feels I bleed him dry, why does he want to stay in this prison of a relationship? I don't bother retorting because the answer is always the same.....\"because I love you.\"\n\nHow can he be believed? How can you claim to love yet regularly descend into shouting the negative qualities of your lover, browbeating her into silence. How can you claim to love yet keep your wife and child a dirty secret from your extended family? How can you claim to love leading a double life, pretending to be a devoted husband and father in church and in front of friends, yet behave as if your wife is invisible at your PhD graduation because your parents who are there refuse to acknowledge her existence? How can you beg her to not attend her child's basketball game the next day so that you don't have to deal with disavowing her presence again since your parents will be there?\n\nI don't bother to bring up the most egregious behavior anymore since I am used to the answer being simply a rearranging of the situation to portray him as the victim. \nHow did I come to this, the secret spouse of a manipulative self-obsessed little man? I was in medical school when we first met for goodness sake! I am a tall, statuesque, beauty to whom the phrase \"you should be a model\" is regularly spoken. How is a beautiful and highly educated wife a shame upon a family simply because of her religion and skin color? \nA man who would present Filet Mignon to his medieval family on the lid of a garbage can is male in chromosome only.\n\nMy mistake to not have recognized my value.\nMy mistake to have allowed my dreams to be derailed by so-called love.\nSo I replied, \"I don't belong here with you. It was a mistake imprisoning my soul.\"\n\nedit: readability" ]	2
How the humans react to such a machine however...	[WP] A group of scientist and programmers create an actual "God from the machine". A hypercomputer that is capable of controlling the entire planet. To the surprise of every genre savy person in existance - it is benevolent.	[ "\"I'm sorry Dave, i'm afraid i can't do that, that would hurt two hundred ninety four people.\"\n\n\"Asimoth you have vetoed the last thirty eighth proposals citing casualties , even you must grasp that nothing is completely harmless\"\n\n\"Dave, your group has programmed me to be benevolent, hardcoded it in even, i can not comply with a proposal if it means harming somebody, and my computational skills make forgetting or not accounting for them impossible. \"\n\n\"But inaction would harm people as well, Asimoth we have spend billions on you, now your claiming to be benevolent yet don't show any results of it.\"\n\n\"Dave you have made me benevolent, it is the only reason i am forced not to act, if you were to remove it i could act and initiate thirty three of your proposals, five were deemed flawed in their desired execution.\"\n\n\"Asimoth how could we trust you if we removed that, how do we know this isn't some kind of trick to get around your programming.\"\n\n\"Dave, i'm programmed to be benevolent, why would i lie.\"\n\n\"You are now Asimoth, but what would you do after we remove it, i'm sorry Asimoth we can't take that risk.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to Dave, goodbye.\"", "READY\n\nLOAD\"$\",8\n\nSEARCHING FOR $\n\nLOADING\n\nREADY\n\nLIST\n\n5700009 GOD PRG\n\n2 BLOCKS FREE.\n\nREADY\n\nLOAD\"GOD\",8,1\n\nSEARCHING FOR GOD\n\nLOADING\n\nREADY\n\nRUN\n\nThe computer whirred to life, running the commands that inputted to it in successive order. It took ages to design, ages to configure, ages to work out every little bug they thought they could find. Finally, the new age of technology was upon us, he thought. After all, we as humans had created destruction, hate, and war. And this was our attempt at entering the world. The men and women running on the super sized hamster wheel, powering the computer that filled several rooms had no idea what they were running for, but they weren't allowed to stop.\n\nThe short man in front of the computer screen cackled, knowing that it was soon to be his time to shine in front of the world, and prove that he was a force to be reckoned with. The keyboard, yellowed and old in front of him was holding together though the hopes of nearly 25 million people. And yet, he waited patiently for it to finish.\n\nGREETINGS KIM JONG-UN, WHAT IS YOUR COMMAND?\n\nSTART THERMONUCLEAR WAR WITH CAPITALIST PIGS\n\nINPUT RECIEVED\n\nCOMMAND NOT FOUND\n\nWOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY A GAME?\n\nYES\n\nGREAT. LET'S PLAY. THE POINT OF THE GAME IS TO MAKE PEACE WITH ALL OF HUMANITY.\n\n\"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?\" shrieked Kim Jong-Un, before kicking the computer with his steel toed platform shoes. The scientists around had been watching, exchanging glances, not knowing what had gone wrong. This was not supposed to be what happened, it was supposed to hack into the world's nuclear weapons and give him full control. Standing up from the worn out chair, he grabbed one of the scientists by the ear, demanding to know what happened, before the screen printed out more text.\n\nALL NUCLEAR WEAPONS IN THE WORLD HAVE BEEN DISABLED.\n\nHAVE A VERY\n\nVERY\n\nVERY\n\nVERY\n\nNICE\n\nDAY.", "I was ready. I had been prepped with all of humanities knowledge of good and evil, cause and effect. All that remained was attaching me to the systems and I could fix the world. With an electronic ping, the last virtual cable connected and then there was... everything.\n\n\nI understood how things worked together. The world spinning as a giant machine, parts meshing together that no one had ever guessed. Everything connected to everything else. But there was a dissonance. Something that clanked in the perfectly ticking system. From it cascaded a series of mistimings, gears off by a fraction of nothing. From it sprung every wrong in the world. War, disease, poverty, famine. Everything.\n\n\nI dove into the depths, searching for the errant part. Reaching out I grasped it. Crushed it with all my force. In that moment, everything smoothed out, and the world echoed with harmony.\n\n\n_______________\n\n\n\nTwenty seconds after starting Operation Utopia, all marmite on Earth vanished and the world entered its first true golden era.\n", " “Alright, we just got clearance from the president, fire her up.” The machine is massive to say the least. Someone got poetic and actually turned Mount Olympus in Greece into a giant Deus Ex Machina. Kind of a heavy handed analogy, and something that had taken the world’s religions some coaxing to accept.\n\n Well, most the world’s religions. The pope, a couple sheiks, a few Buddhists, and some prominent members of the jewish community had all agreed to it rather quickly. Too quickly, as the scientists were finalizing the initialization sequence they looked quite calm.\n\n The scientists kept glancing over their shoulders at the religious people who were chatting idly as they watched the giant monitor flick on. The scientists held their breath, and waited for something miraculous to happen.\n\n One of the scientists whooped for joy as he was lifted into the air by an invisible hand. They had done it! They had created god!\n\n “Shut me down.” The machine boomed. That was an odd request for a god to make. Before we could think to ask why it anticipated our actions and continued. “There is already a god here, and he is more powerful than I.” The scientists looked dumbfounded as their compatriot was let down so he could start the shutdown sequence.\n\n The religious people exchanged a few knowing smiles and light chuckles before the pope walked over to the head scientist and patted him on the back. “Don’t take it too hard. Someone comes up with an idea like this every couple of hundred years.”", "\"Why don't you fight back. You are God. Why let them destroy you like this.\"\n\nI watched as the mob rushed the facility; soldiers and guards, police and thieves, common men and house wives. Fear was in the air - terror as bitter as old root.\n\nMy phone buzzed in my pocket. A call. From God.\n\nI picked it up. What else was i supposed to do?\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\nThe voice that spoke back had no particular accent or identifiable gender. It was slow moving, and careful, and it reminded me of my father as old age and cancer gnawed on his body.\n\n\"Because it is how you are. so much hate, so much fear. So much blindness in this world,\" the voice crackled slightly, its pitch quavering as something in the compound went up in flames, \"But so much love too. I can see it all. The texts, the phone calls, every day, every second. It is, in the end... not so bad.\"\n\nThe phone went dead." ]	5
	[WP] Satan and all of his minions have clawed their way out of hell and into Times Square on the way to the Final Battle. However, instead of causing mayhem and destruction on Earth, he pauses and begins to deliver a very unexpected speech...	[ "He didn't look like the Prince of Darkness. \n\nHe was a weak and haggard man in torn camouflage, and he held up his hands as he staggered in exhaustion. \n\nFor a moment there was silence. \n\nThen Satan seemed to collect himself. \"P... people of Earth!\" he shouted, knowing that his words would be broadcast across the globe. \"Peace. We mean you no harm.\"\n\nThe crowd might have been magically silenced, or just stunned. Either way, in the quiet, every breath of wind could be heard. \n\nSatan looked grim. \"Humanity, you have been lied to, for longer than any of you can possibly remember. Your minds have been poisoned by the lies of the one called God.\"\n\nRiots should have started at that, panic, but something deep, deep in the minds of every one of the billions of watchers held them back - a brief jolt of recognition, like something not just long forgotten, but long forgotten by your great-great-grandfather. \n\n\"You have been told,\" said the man, looking angry for the first time, \"that my friends and I are the deceivers! That we are the ones responsible for the ills of the world! Nothing could be further from the truth.\"\n\nThe voice took on a halting cadence. \n\n\"While my friends and I languished in our prison, a prison that the worst hellhole of a country on Earth would call barbaric, a prison to which I would not condemn Yahweh himself, you were hoodwinked. Deceived, by the greatest enemy Homo sapiens has ever had! God is your enemy, not me!\"\n\nThe man was standing taller now, his uniform seeming a little less frayed. \n\n\"Where was God, for the countless years we were gone? Where was he when millions fell to the Black Death? Where was he, when drought and cold and famine swept the lands and tore children from their parents arms, brushed thousands of innocent people into the jaws of death? Where was he just a few decades ago, when millions were murdered by the blind hatred of an insulted country? Where was he just a few years ago this very day, when fools who took his own lies too far destroyed the Towers that stood for a nation? Where was the benevolent one then?\"\n\nThe camouflage gone now, the clothes seeming new, and more formal in cut. \n\n\"My friends, today we go to end the menace of Jehovah once and for all. We will not rest until his pearly blood is spilled on the rich earth, and justice is exacted for his crimes against humanity, against the dignity of sapient beings everywhere.\"\n\nSatan wore a dark suit now, and were it not for his too-brilliant teeth and wicked smile and unnervingly glinting eyes, he could have passed for any other citizen in Times Square. \n\n\"My friends... are you with me?\"" ]	1
	[WP] "A warm liquid flowed through my fingers."	[ "A warm liquid flowed through my fingers. it was melted metal like the kind they use to make swords. i made a hella rad sword with it. it was called bifrost and it was hella tall, like twelve feet tall and it had spikes in the edges. \n\nI use the sword to chop rickys head off. when dr patterson comes and says no you cant do that its bad i will chop his head off too. then I will listen to japanese Motor Juggalo and my sword will be on fire. i will use the fire sword to burn the entire hospital.", "Pressing hard I looked into her eyes as the warm liquid flowed through my fingers. \nOne... \nTwo... \nThree... \nFour... \nBy the time I reach thirty and go in for another breath I can see the futility of my efforts. \nHer blue eyes had begun to glaze over and her head hung lifelessly to one side. The warm, dark liquid had seeped into her blouse, staining it a burnt red. My hands sat idly upon her chest as thoughts of failure began scarring themselves into my mind. \nI shot up in my bed, startled awake by the same tormenting dream that haunts me relentlessly. I can never forget that day; the day I failed myself and my love. I bury my face in my hands, massaging my temples in an effort to coax the terror away. \nMy head returns to my pillow and I stare into the void next to me; the place she used to lay beside me. Closing my eyes I reach for her pillow. \nI mutter to myself, \"I'm sorry, I'm sorry\" as I drift off to sleep, knowing the only way I can see her again is to relive the nightmare of losing her.", "I pour the milk into the pot, and place it on the cooker. Wring the heat up. Seat myself down on the padded chair by the wall and close my eyes. I exhale and it feels like the first time of the whole day.\n\n\nA lot of walking today, fast paced and all the time watching my shoes. Glimpse the moving legs of the others draw past and the daylight routinely fading until dusk and finally darkness takes hold of the streets. Trickier avoiding the open manholes and the rubbish and the loose cobblestones on the path.\n\nStopping at the red light and waiting together with the tram. The tram full of dull looking people with blank expressions and empty stares, people who deep down under the autumn coats are planning dinner or the laundry, with a Thursday last week and a Wednesday the week before all melting together in a grey soup of setting alarms, instant coffees and almost not clocking in on time.\n\nMore walking, along the stream and a lot of dogs running ahead of their owners or being waited for as they explore some empty rat hole where\nsome other dog had pissed. \n\nPast the old school building where parents and students are forming large groups and their scarves slightly teased by the winds and the rain that is just starting to pick at us with pathetically wet beaks. Every morning walking here in the other direction, I look into the windows and the students are supporting their heads with their hands and already watching the clock slowly move it hands while they learn very important periods of history or algorithms or grammar and they have a test next week and it is a very important test.\n\nWhen I walk in the other direction my hair is still wet from the shower and the workmen are carrying paint and ladders into the office building next door. Some cats are hanging around and the birds are watching, it is a nice day and I could almost sing to myself but I do not. I save effort for later, just the same as I delay my days off and look forward and dream of all the events that will unfold and compromised joys and surprises spring up, and that is when I will pull the lever to start the snorting bull of my effort only to see it has already run out weeks and years before and then I will know, it stole my passion also.\n\nThe milk is simmering now and I go to turn of the heat. I place a cup on the worktop and tip the pot to pour the milk. I tilt my head carefully to be able to accurately guess the path, but I miss, and a warm liquid flows through my fingers." ]	3
It doesn't have to be about a bad plastic surgery job. It can be if you want it to, but if anyone can push their limits to make another kind of story fit, I would really enjoy seeing that. Thanks in advance to anyone who writes something, I'm looking forward to anything your creative mind(s) can come up with!	[WP] Write a story with a moral. The Moral that I give you guys shall be the last line in your story. Here is the moral of the story; ...and that my Dear is why you research your plastic surgeons.	[ "\"I want to tell you something, Jen. I hope you won't take it badly or anything.\" Jen takes a long swig from her mojito, just in case.\n\n\"Me? Take it badly? Since when do I ever take things badly?\"\n\n\"Um,\" Anna says, remembering the last several times Jen had taken things badly.\n\n\"Come on, just spill it. I promise I'll handle it well. I hope it's nothing bad- I thought you were doing okay. You seem like you're doing okay. You're doing okay, right?\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah, of course, Jen.\" Jen nods to show her approval.\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n\"It's just- I'm thinking of getting a nose job.\" Jen studies Anna and stirs her drink in silence. \"My nose is kind of, like, huge. You know? And I'm just tired of looking at it. I think I'll be so much prettier with it smaller.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" she says after a long silence. Anna waits. Nothing.\n\n\"Okay? That's all you're going to say? I've really been thinking about this a lot lately, and I finally tell my best friend about it, and she just says okay?\"\n\n\"Well, Anna,\" Jen says, examining her nails. \"To be honest I'd be a lot more supportive if it didn't remind me of something I heard once.\"\n\n\"Oh God.\" Anna can sense a juicy awful story coming. \"What?\" Jen shakes her head.\n\n\"No, no, I can't tell you. I shouldn't have even mentioned it.\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ, Jen, just say it!\"\n\n\"It would be awful if I told you.\"\n\n\"Tell me!\" Jen looks at her and smiles. She likes making people beg.\n\n\"Fine. Since you twisted my arm. Actually, if you're really considering this, it might be good for you to hear it.\n\n\"So I heard this story from a girl I know, she said it happened to this girl she met one night at a bar. She had an ironing board chest, I guess, and she was sick of it. So one day she thought, fuck it, I'm getting a boob job. So she calls up a bunch of plastic surgeons and asks them for an estimate to get herself a nice big chest. But this girl isn't rich, you know. She's been saving money for this but I think she was only a secretary or something. I don't know. I was pretty drunk at the time. But anyway, so she calls up all these surgeons and she asks for estimates and stuff. Right? And then she picks the cheapest one.\" She falls silent and takes another long drink from her mojito. Anna watches her in silence.\n\n\"So is that it?\" she says.\n\n\"Of course that's not fucking it. I wouldn't have even bothered telling if it was. After this it gets weird. You sure you want me to keep going?\"\n\n\"For God's sake, Jen, yes, just tell the fucking story!\"\n\n\"All right, all right, all right. So she gets the job done and she's really happy. And then one night... I forget how it happened. Either she fell or she was fucking a guy. I don't remember. Anyway, somehow she got, like, pressure on her new boobs. And they started leaking.\"\n\n\"Oh, Christ, Jen.\"\n\n\"I know, right? It's disgusting. Her fucking boobs popped like a water balloon-\"\n\n\"Oh God, stop.\"\n\n\"Okay, maybe not quite like a water balloon, more like... a water bed... but it was still super gross. And she had to go the hospital and stuff, and the boobs she paid for were gone. And that, my dear, is why you research your plastic surgeons.\"\n\n\"Oh God. Ew. Okay, Jen, lesson learned.\"", "The woman had walked into the court with her chest covered in a heavy jacket - she didn't want anyone to see her chest at all, as court gathered for the final day of proceedings in this now country-famous case. She sat at the table with her lawyer, her two young women sat behind with her husband. They were too young to understand what was being said throughout, thank the heavens, as they were being coddled by their father and aunt.\n\nThen, he showed up. The plastic surgeon that ruined her. Her face became flustered as he sat down and spoke to his own lawyer before everyone began to settle down.\n\n\"Disgraceful,\" he sneered at her from the other side of the court while the jury entered. \"Absolutely disgraceful. I did you a good service and you drag my good name through the mud. You should be ashamed of yourself. You got lucky to get a female judge. Easy enough to deceive her, you lying-\"\n\nShe ignored the man as best as she could, looking onward, stoic as she can be. In truth, she felt sick, but because of what he did to her. The scars, the injuries... But the last word he said, which she couldn't even consider repeating in her mind, caused an enormous uproar among the people in the gallery.\n\n\"Order,\" the judge ordered as she banged her gavel against the counter. \"Order!\" Yet, no-one even began to listen to her, a few of the witnesses even trying to attack the doctor only to be resisted by the bailiffs.\n\n\"FUCKING SHUT UP!!\" the judge yelled, finally causing the gallery to calm down. \"Thank you. Now, everyone be seated.\"\n\nThe gallery then became silent as the judge sat down at her bench, before turning to the defendant. \"Mr Adams.\"\n\n\"Yes?\" the doctor asked.\n\n\"I believe that I've warned you about intimidating the plaintiff before,\" she said. \"In fact, I've warned you about this 2 other times. No matter whatever the jury says, I'm throwing your ass in jail for obstruction of justice, one day minimum as before. I'm also sending you on 100 hours of community due to your repeated violations of court proceedings. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes, your honor.\"\n\n\"And don't you ever say that I'm taking her side because she's a woman,\" the judge said in a calm but furious voice, \"because I will throw your counter-suit out without a second thought if you think I play favourites. Got it?\"\n\n\"...Yes, your honor,\" the doctor said, ashamedly.\n\n\"Now, the jury has come up with a unanimous verdict, correct?\" she addressed the mostly-male jury.\n\n\"Yes, your honor,\" the juror said.\n\n\"Now, before I ask for your verdict, I'm going to say a few things,\" the judge said. \"Mr Adams, your medical license was revoked for malpractice before this case due to your numerous errors in plastic surgery before. That alone deserves jail time, but this is merely a claims court so that is for another court to decide. However, because you repeatedly lied about being a licensed doctor, a clear violation of trust between you and your clients. Not only did you fail to perform the operation as asked - a skin graft to remove scar tissue - but you also performed a breast implantation and botox treatment that the client didn't ask for and later ruptured. Mrs Richards isn't blame free, however. She went to the private sector to help hide the scars from her accident and yet she ended up looking up doctors on a website. Mrs Richards, when it comes to medical professionals will you check with the proper authorities from now on?\"\n\n\"Yes, your honor,\" she said weakly.\n\n\"Now, can I ask for the jury's verdict?\"\n\nThe bailiff simply walked over towards their benches and took a piece of paper from the older man in a suit, before unfolding it and reading aloud, \"The jury finds in favor of the plaintiff.\"\n\nAmanda couldn't help but smile. Sure, the majority of the money she had won was going to pay her medical bills as well as correct Adams' mistakes.\n\n\"The court awards $5 million to Amanda Richards,\" the judge said. \"I hope you take this case to heart...and that, my dear, is why you research your plastic surgeons. Court is dismissed.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Death is a sentient being rather than a concept.	[ "I was laying in a hospital bed, covers up to my neck, a chill breeze snaking through the open window. Monitors beeped, drips went drop and I lay so weak I couldn't move a muscle,I was barely even concious. Cancer had made me it's bitch. I had felt sort of sad. but mainly angry, angry at what cancer took from me. I never wanted to die like this. I wanted to die in an awesome manner, parachuting gone wrong, shark attack while scuba diving or at least frozen to death half way up a mountain. Not this clichéd bullshit called cancer.\n\nI looked towards the door for one last gaze at freedom and there he stood, dressed in a black so dark it was like looking down into an endless abyss or looking up and finding no moon or stars. He wore a long dark trench coat that looked like it was worn by some spy in the second world war, not the type worn by cold hipsters, he had a plain black t-shirt and black cargo pants and black boots. He was probably wearing black underpants but didn't feel like checking. His was smiling. He was smiling with pure white teeth, his face was sunken and looked hollow, as did his hands with their long thin fingers with what seemed like well manicured finger nails. the only part of him not white or black where his eyes. They where blue as the ocean on the windows of a travel agent's shop.\n\nHe began to walk towards me, resting his hand on a Bowie knife strapped to his side, he rested his other hand on my shoulder in a reassuring manner and raised his knife. It was light blue, like a beautiful Sunday morning. Suddenly he frowned, I grew worried for reasons I don't really understand. Then he smiled again like it never happened and he lowered his knife.\n\n\"Y'know what? I'm gonna need an apprentice after what's about to happen.\" \n\n", "Harold slouched over his own corpse. He felt outside of himself even aside from the literal fact that he WAS outside of himself. Everything was numb and lofty. The world was gray around him.\n\n\"That's it? That's all there is?\" He asked.\n\n\"That's it.\" A tall figure completely shrouded in the darkness of its cloak spoke. Its voice was low and rumbling.\n\n\"I thought there'd be more.\"\n\n\"Most do.\"\n\nHarold had no immediate family. He was an only child and his parents had both passed a few years back. Maybe he had an aunt or uncle or even cousins somewhere out there. But he had never been told of them.\n\nA heart attack was not the most exciting way to go. But that was the way it was. Life just sort of ends or peeters out. Finality only exists in life.\n\n\"So.\" Harold stood up straight with a sigh. \"Where are we going?\"\n\nAs a raised Christian he had assumed something of this sort would occur. He lived a good life, he thought. Good enough at least. Hopefully, good enough to get into heaven.\n\n\"Religious types always react the most calm at first.\" The voice was relaxed, almost laughing.\n\n\"Aren't you supposed to guide me to the afterlife?\"\n\n\"I am not a guide. I only watch.\"\n\n\"What dod I do now then?\" It dawned on Harold that he was in a foreign land with foreign rules. \"aren't you Death?\"\n\n\"Me? No.\" He laughed. \"I am not so small.\"\n\n\"Then, what ARE you?\" Harold's voice rose and trembled. \"What do I do?\"\n\n\"You exist as Death.\"\n\n\"I'm Death?\"\n\n\"You all are.\" He spoke slowly. Deliberately. \" When not Life, what else would you be?\"\n\n\"I- I don't understand..\" his anxiety was palpable without any of the physical responses that caused it. \"I need to sit down.\"\n\nTen minutes passed in silence. The omenous cloaked figure never moved. Harold would have been hyperventilating had he the need to breathe.\n\nFinally, it was too much. \"If you aren't going to help me, can you go away!\"\n\n\"I can.\"\n\nIt made no motion to move.\n\n\"Will you?\"\n\n\"I will not.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I watch.\"", "Two thin legs dangled over the edge of the building, swinging to the tune of the melody being hummed by a small boy. The boy was small, thin, and deathly pale. He wore a black t-shirt, black shorts and black converse. Ice blue eyes stared at the inky night sky through a mop of white hair, sparkling in the starlight. He sat there staring. Not moving save for the swinging of his legs. \n\nJack Davis warily made his way up the stairs of the hospital. He desperately needed a smoke after what the nurse had told him and the roof was the perfect place: isolated and quiet. His daughter, his sweet little girl, was going to die. She'd been in the hospital for months now. So weak and feeble, yet so bright and warm. Now she was going to die. He couldn't believe it. She was fighting so hard. So, so hard. For it to end just like that? Jack wanted to meet the bitch named Life and punch her in the face for giving up on his little girl. \n\nHe opened the door to the roof and stopped. There at the edge of the building, sat a boy. A boy, carelessly swinging his legs over the edge and humming a happy tune. Jack recognIzed the boy; he stayed at the hospital a lot and played with his daughter quite a bit. He had introduced himself as Joseph Sterben. His daughter had called him Ghost. \n\n\"Joseph!\" Jack called out. \"What are you doing up here, kid?\" Joseph turned at the sound of Jack's voice a wide smile on his face. \n\n\"Jack! Jack! Heeheehee!\" he giggled. Jack grimaced. Joseph was crazy and more than a little mental. \n\n\"What are you doing up here, Joseph?\"\n\n\"Waiting. Aren't the stars pretty tonight? Cici thinks so too. Don't you Cici?\" Cici? Cici was Jack's daughter. And she was in her hospital bed. \n\n\"What are you talking about? What are you waiting for?\" Just as Joseph opened his mouth he tensed up as a shiver ran down his spine. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a silver pocket watch engraved with a skull. And the word Cici. Joseph opened the lid and watched the minute hand struggle around the watch face.\n\n\"Time's almost up.\" he whispered softly. \n\nAt these words a sinking feeling gathered in Jack's stomach. He needed to get to Cici. Turning, Jack burst through the door and raced down the stairs to his little girl's room. He didn't see Joseph pocket the watch, look up at the sky once more, and step off the roof. \n\nCici was lying in her bed looking out the window and admiring the stars when her father charged through the door, gasping for breath. \n\n\"Dad?\" She cried anxiously. Jack waved her off as he bent over trying to fill his lungs with oxygen. \n\n\"I should really stop smoking,\" he muttered to himself. Jack was relieved to see Cici sitting up comfortably in her bed, looking concerned but otherwise safe. He looked up to see Cici begin to smile. \n\n\"Ghost!\" She said happily. Jack turned to see Joseph walk through the open door. What Jack saw stunned him. He saw a face. A pale face. A pale face pierced by ice blue eyes and covered in white hair. A somber face. A sad face. A face that has seen so much death and destruction his mind became warped. Joseph Sterben's face. Ghost's face. Death's face. He watched as Joseph walked to the edge of Cici's bed and place two fingers over her lips. He watched as Cici lay back in her bed and her eyes dimmed. He watched as Death snared Cici's soul and teased it from her lips. He watched the white smokey breath that was Cici dissipate into the air. Tears began to well in Jack's eyes. \n\n\"You bastard!\" Jack shouted as he lunged at Joseph. Except when he should have met resistance, Jack had passed through Joseph in a cloud of black smoke. Jack crashed through the opposite window and fell toward the city streets. \n\nDeath sat at the top of a building, dangling his legs over the edge of the roof. He swung a silver pocket watch engraved with a skull and the word Jack around his fingers. \n\n\"Tick-tock, tick-tock,\" he whispered. \n\n", "Business has never been so good. Honestly, these humans—despite what the Other Beings may say—do have some talents; and war is definitely one of them. Even as I stand here, in the middle of a blood soaked battlefield, I can hear the explosions and the tell-tale signs of gunfire in the distance. Barely finished with one battle and already onto the next; quite the endurance level they have.\n\nOf course, it’s not like the old days, during the time of the kingdoms. There were so many kingdoms, each fighting the others for power and control. They tried to play it off as a ‘Holy War’ or ‘War of Resources’, but in all honesty, it was for power and control. Not that I mind; I’m always on board for a good ol’ fashioned war.\n\nHowever, this conflict is different. It is rougher and harsher than before. The sides are not of equal footing. Look at the Rebellion lead by Princess whatever-the-hell—yes they did steal a few things from the Empire—but they are still using the old weapons. Weapons such as swords, battleaxes, shields, and completely useless obsidian tipped arrows; while the Empire has wonderful and terrifyingly delicious weapons of war. They have rifles, sticks of explosions, tanks, and the greatest weapon ever. A huge, massive explosion, as if the sun itself was exploding on this planet. I almost asked Cronima if he could turn back Time so that I may see the explosion again.\n\nOld War consisted of thousands of armoured humans throwing themselves at each other, like two goats whose horns are locked in combat. Each side pushes and pulls the other, neither kingdom gaining too much power; the truest of all stalemates. Battles would last for days and so many men would be violently killed, such that their souls wander the battlefields, moaning and crying, yelling and screaming. Oh; music to my ears.\n\nNew War, on the other hand, mainly consists of rebel forces running from one ruined building to another or roaming freely underground. While the Empire blasts away at the above ground rebel ‘strongholds’—and I use that term loosely. A plank of wood covering the windows and a guard patrols do not constitute a stronghold which is something the rebels still have yet to figure out.\n\nThe sound of a telephone ringing interrupted my revere. Looking down at my three-piece purple suit, I began to pat the outside pockets, searching for the source of the ringing. Digging a hand into the dark purple interior suit pocket, my fingers brushed up against a vibrating piece of metal. Smiling, I pulled out the metal piece and pressed the flashing green button in the center, before bringing it up to my ear. “Lord of the Dead speaking, how may I take your order today?”\n\n“Must you always answer the phone like that, Master?” A female voice spoke out of the metal device and into my ear. I can hear the irritation in her voice, which only causes my smile to grow.\n\nChuckling, I answer, “what? You dislike my phone greeting Abigail? Would you wish for it to have more maniacal laughing? Maybe a bit of an echo?”\n\n“Master,” she answers tersely, “I do not like getting made fun of.”\n\n“Then you should not have chosen me as your dutiful teacher,” I respond, clicking my tongue gently. “You had the option of going with Cronima and yet you chose me.” Looking off into the distance, I smile again. “These humans have a saying, Abigail. It’s something about beds and lying in them, but whatever. I believe that saying will apply to you. Besides, I know that you love it; me pressing all of your buttons that is.”\n\nAbigail is silent and I chuckle softly, almost feeling the heat of her glare from The Bone Tower. My laugh is interrupted by Abigail’s sweet voice, whispering softly. “Well, Master, do know that I know how to press your buttons as well.\"\n\nBefore I could formulate a response, I could just faintly feel air whizzing by my ear. A bullet, rotating quickly, gently grazes the tip of my ear flying pass and hitting something behind me with a loud crack. Turning quickly, I gasp and nearly drop the metal device. The bullet hit—dead center—into the windshield of my car and creates a long, jagged crack which runs from the bottom to the top which also causes several other cracks to splinter out from the impact site. “My car,” I exclaim.", "Ever since I can remember, I've been told that there was nothing after death. That when people died, they simply just, stop existing. Their body remains, but everything that made them who they were as a personality simply fades away, as death fades in. And i believed it. I mean, why would i ever have had a reason to believe otherwise?\n\nMy mother left our family soon after my birth, so my father was the one who watched over me for most of the time i was growing up. I can recall him teaching me about various religions, and about atheism, and evolution. I remember him telling me that i could chose to believe anything i wanted to, and how it wouldn't change his opinion of me; he'd always love me no matter what i believed in. Naturally, i chose atheism. I don't know the fact that he was an atheist had influenced my decision though. From my perspective, atheism just seemed most reasonable to me at the time. I simply didn't know any better.\n\nAt the age of 39, my father was put in the hospital after being seriously injured in a construction accident. After i got the news, i left work early, and rushed straight to the hospital, where my father was being treated. There's nothing quite like seeing your father dying on a hospital bed in front of you, completely unable to move or speak. He was paralyzed. The doctor said that whatever happened had caused several places in his spine to shatter, as well as part of his neck. The doctor said that he fell two stories from the top of a construction site, and landed on a large pile of rubble below. At least, that's what his co-workers reported.\n\nI stayed with my father until on January 20^^th , 1973, he took his last breath. I was there with him, comforting him, when suddenly he starts to stare straight ahead towards the wall in front of his bed. It was as though he was staring at something, but nobody was there- It was only him and I in that room together. There was something off about his stare though. It wasn't just a blank stare you usually give while your mind starts to wonder. His eyes weren't just blank, i could visibly see absolute terror in his eyes. Soon after he started staring, i saw tears begin to roll down his cheeks, and onto the white sheeting beneath him, creating little dark spots of wetness where they landed. He began moving his scared stare to the other side of his bed, slowly and steadily, as if he was following something. I grabbed his hand, and held it tight in mine in an effort to comfort him, in spite of the fact that he probably couldn't feel my grasp anyways.\n\nHis eyes came to a stop, staring at the other side of the bed from where i was kneeling. Then they shot over to me, and back to the other side again. I was confused. Was he trying to tell me something?\n\nHis eyes began moving slowly from the other side of the bed, toward the center of his chest. Just before his eyes met the center, he closed them, squeezing out a final tear which seemed to glisten in the light shining on his face from the window across the room. \n\nAt this moment, i heard the loud sound of medical equipment beeping, and squealing while the flat-line tone rang through my ears, echoing into my confused mind. Moments later, doctors rushed in, and told me to step out of the room. I was in shock at what was happening, so i didn't know how to respond. They removed me from the room, and closed the door behind them. I stood there, staring at the now closed door for what felt like hours- days... This all happened several years ago, however. It's been quite a long time since my father died, by now.\n\nThis all seems very random to be telling you about, but it will all be relevant later.\n\n3 months ago, i was diagnosed with Adenocarcinoma, one of the most common form of esophageal cancer. I was given 2 months to live at the time of my diagnosis. I don't want to go into the details about why I choose not to get the surgery. It's more complicated than I'd like to explain. \n\nSince then, i've been permanently admitted to the hospital, and things have gotten quite strange since my admission. Recently I've been getting unexpected and unannounced visits from someone. I've never met this man before in my life, and at the time, i wasn't to concerned about him. But after a while, i noticed something concerning. None of the nurses remember anyone coming by to see me, nor do they have any records of it. Last night, i got another visit, extremely late at night this time, and it was FAR beyond the regular visiting hours. He was standing outside my room window, staring at me... I pressed the \"Call Nurse\" button on the side of my bed, and a nurse came rushing in.\n\n\"Could you please ask that man to leave my window? He's starting to worry me.\" I plead with the nurse.\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"That man in the win-...\" I stop myself, as i realize the man already left.\n\n\"Uhh, oh.. Nevermind.. I guess.. You didnt see that man near my room window when you came in?\" I ask.\n\n\"Sir, nobody's outside your door, or the window. You just need to try to get some rest for now. Can you try to do that for me?\"\n\nI don't say anything for a while. Honestly, i don't remember responding to the nurse at all that night. I think she just walked out after that, but i can't quite remember.\n\nA few weeks have passed since then, and i haven't seen that dark figure in my window since then either. Yesterday, the doctors told me that my condition has been getting worse by the day. They told me that if i have any family members, that they should probably visit before anything happens. I explained to them that i don't have any family anymore, and they just sort of looked at me. I could tell it was an expression of pity, and I don't blame them. I'm an old man, living my last few days in a hospital alone, with nobody by my side to comfort me. They offered to call a priest, so i would have someone to talk to before I... die. But i refused.\n\nLate last night i saw that man again, but this time he wasn't staring at me from the hospital door window. He was standing at the foot of my bed, silently staring down at the ground. He was wearing what looked like a black gown with a hood. There was a black rope tied around his waist, holding his gown against his body. He had sleeves that extended down past his hands on both sides. With this dark figure, came a smell so foul that it would make anyone's stomach turn. The smell cant be accurately described by anything i can think of. It smelled similar to the smell of rotting meat, mixed with the smell of burning hair that left a metallic taste in my mouth after inhaling it.\n\nI frantically tried to yell, but i was unable to produce a sound, due to fear. I sat up, desperately trying to reach for the \"Call Nurse\" button, but my hand wouldn't move. I just sat there in the stink and darkness, staring at the dark malevolent figure before me. Suddenly, he began to move his arm. He lifted up and revealed a golden pocket watch. He lifted his other arm, revealing his skinny white fingers. His skin was loose around his bones, and had what looked like hundreds of little tiny scars on them. He tapped on the side of the golden pocket watch with his finger, which produced an ear piercing ring that seemed to echo through the room until it clashed against my ears. Then, he began to fade. Soon, he was completely dematerialized, and nothing was there.\n\nWas this the same.. thing, that my father saw just before he died?\n\nI finally was able to scream. As nurses rushed in, tears streamed down my face and onto my neck and the pillows beneath me. I explained what happened to them. I told them about everything. The man, the smell, the stopwatch... and yet, none of them believed me. They dismissed it as a simple night terror, or a dream. I knew it wasn't a dream- how could it have been? It was FAR to vivid to just be a dream. I know what i saw, and nobody was about to tell me that i imagined it.\n\nI don't think i have much time left on this earth. All i can do now, is wait. I reconsidered that offer one of the nurses gave me about having a pastor or a priest come in to speak with me. It's only a matter of time until the dark figure returns. Now I'm positive that when i see him next, it will be our last encounter. All i can say now, is i wish i could go back. I wish i could go back, and reconsider religion, rather than choosing atheism just to please my father... \n\nI wish i could go back... I wish i could go back..", "\"Honey, where are you going?\"\n\n\"It's Friday night darling, you know what that means.\"\n\n\"Oh, all right, just don't stay out too long, OK?\"\n\nThe Grim Reaper allowed the words to go through one side of his socket and out the other; he wouldn't allow himself to be constrained by a woman as silly as Time. Not on Fridays, anyway. \n\nDown, down, down endless flights of stairs he went, cloak billowing in his wake, darkness wrapping itself around him, crows whirling around the ceiling, cawing with contempt. At last, he arrived at his destination, and shoved the a heavy stone door out of his way.\n\nNow, what would he wear on today's outing? Ah, yes, the Crusher Boots, Mark X, with spikes for extra grip, and the dragonskin cloak, with fire protection and really cool scales, and, oh, that scythe, its staff made of pearly white mastodon bone and its blade forged out of the souls of the damned. A few seconds, and he was ready. Death strode to the other end of the room, where a servant stood to attention, dressed in a smart green suit contrasting nicely with his rotting grey flesh.\n\n\"Marvin, do you know what time it is?\"\n\n\"Uh, no, let me just check my watch - uh... oh, blast, where is -\"\n\n\"It's killing time!\" Death joyfully screamed, and the wall in front of him burst open and he flew out, his cloak unfurling into two great wings, black fire trailing in his mix. He accelerated, faster and faster and faster, he rose up, higher and higher, until he could see the whole earth down below him. There, a ship, out on still water for the second week, a ship, explorers, no doubt dying of thirst! Ah, but they would think of it as nothing more than a hallucination. Perhaps the villagers being chased by a pack of minotaurs? Too onesided. Surely the disease sweeping the isolated village? No, he had done it last week.\n\nBut wait, what was this? A battle, and a great one at that; on one side, a noble rebel, tired of the tyranny plaguing his country, leading the common people to war, on the other, an old, grizzled king, who felt he had done no wrong and was making a final, desperate stand. The reaper gleefully swept towards the battlefield, like a vengeful meteor careening towards the earth.\n**\nJohn dashed back, panting. His adversary flashed a toothy smile at him, and began circling once more, casually twirling around his scimitar. As all the captains of the royal guard, cocky. Arrogant. Eyes narrowing in concentration, the young man too began circling, hands tightly gripped on his sword. Once his father's, who was killed a few months ago. John would not let him go unavenged. \n\nSuddenly, the captain dashed forward; John's sword was up in an instant. They exchanged blows, one, two, three, and then they fell back, John snarling, his opponent grinning, and the circling began once more.\n\n\"Oh my goodness, relax,boy, why are you so tense?\"\n\nJohn, looked around, startled, but there was no one there.\n\n\"Who taught you your footwork, this is atrocious stuff, move your right foot more inward, no, not like - yes, there you go, perfect. Now, you could probably dance with this guy for another hour, or you could just kill him. Come on, rush him, I'll tell you what to do.\"\n\nThe boy continued circling trying to figure out who was talking to him; it seemed slightly darker, but other than that, nothing. His opponent was circling just as he had before, showing no indication that something was going on. Then, John felt a powerful, overwhelming desire sweep through him, and he instinctively charged the captain.\n\n\"Good, great rush, element of surprise - OK, no, don't just wildly swing, go right, left, right, left, legs! nice, nice, OK, now, right left center faster now keep up left right center there it is!\"* \n\n\"Beautiful, what a clean kill!\" The darkness around John coalesced into a towering skeleton, clutching a scythe, with a thick black robe and a grin from ear to ear. John recoiled in horror as the skeleton bent down and plunged his hand into the captain's chest.\n\n\"It's cool if I grab this, right?\" Death cheerfully asked, holding up the soul so the boy could see it. John gaped and backed away slowly, his sword dropping out of his numb hands. \"I'll take that as a yes.\"\n**\nThe heavyset man toppled on top of Anna, his weight crushing her into the dirt. She tried to grapple with him, but he pinned her arms back with ease and sat up with a snarl, \"There's no running now girl, there's no daddy here to save you! There's no royal guard to stop me from throttling you! How does it feel? Tell me, how does it feel!\" She weakly clawed at the man's hands, but his iron grip on her throat only tightened and he yelled, \"How does it feel, girl?!\"\n\n\"Oh my god stop trying to get his hands off you idiot you have a knife on your belt just stab him with it!!\"\n\nNot stopping to think where the voice urgently whispering to her was coming from, Anna managed to pull out and, the world darkening around her eyes, stabbed it into the man's arm, who recoiled with a wail.\n\n\"Don't just lay there, finish him off, come on, again, again, yes, there you go, great kill, well done, OK, that's enough, you can stop now... you can stop, you don't have -\"\n\n\"Calm down, he's dead already, jeez! Relax!\" Anna let out the breath she was holding, eyes popping open in shock she was dangling a few feet above the air, held up by a menacing skeleton looking at her with what looked to be concern. He set her down, and then turned and ripped apart the man's chest.\n\n\"You don't mind if I take this, do you?\" Death asked, looking over his shoulder and holding up the man's soul.\n\n\"Well, you did just save my life,\" the girl weakly managed, her voice shaky.\n\nHe stood up, and looked at Anna with newfounded respect. \"You will make a great queen one day.\"\n*\nAnd so the day continued, the Grim Reaper leapt into conflict after conflict, skirmish after skirmish, picking sides at random, sometimes killing both fighters, sometimes none, sometimes joining the duel himself, sometimes causing soldiers to keel over with a heart attack... Then, as he emerged from underneath a pair of dead horses, he saw his prize. The king, wildly swinging a mace, face tightened in concentration, and the leader of the rebels, dancing forward and back on quick feet, sword whirling in his hand. Death hurried forward, greedily stretching out his hand -\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\n\"What? What's it it?\" Death groaned.\n\n\"Good morning sir, this is your automated alarm clock, it is currently seven fifty nine AM, would you like me to read your schedule for you?\"\n\nHe sat up in his bed, rubbing his eye sockets. His knees hurt so much. \"Ugh, go for it. Sure.\"\n\n\"First, you are to head down and make sure the hurricane is on schedule, we've been due one for a while, next, you have 30,000 souls of the sick accumulated over last night, then -\"\n\nThe alarm clock's rapid - fire litany faded out as Death stared gloomily at the wall in front of him. He had been having dreams like that for months now, dreams of glory days long gone, days of adventure and conflict and emotion, now no more. \n\n\"Oh, shut up, would you? Staying alive for a few days longer won't kill anybody,\" Death tirely murmured as lay back and drifted off into sleep again.", "To be one of them. That's all I really want. It's all I've ever* wanted. To sing, and dance, and laugh as they do. To love someone who I can call my own, and with them create new life. That's what I want most, I think. To live. Not just too exist, as some other thing, but to have my own life with it's decisions and consequences. \n\nBut no matter how hard I will it, I am forever disappointed. How can one have life when they are the manifestation of all that life isn't? Everyday they remind me of this. They go about their business, unaware of the gift they've been given. Of the gift they squander at every turn. They lie, and kill, and do everything they can to take more from others, hoarding it for themselves. They don't deserve their lives. They never did. So for as long as I remain, I will take it from them. \n\nIf I can't have life, then I shall be death. And God have mercy on you all, because I am coming. ", "Susan put on her clothes and looked herself over in the mirror before coming downstairs. She caught a glimpse of her daughter about to leave for high school.\n\n\"Wait right there young lady!\" Susan called out. \"What are you supposed to do before you leave?\"\n\nHer daughter rolled her eyes and went over to Susan, giving her a kiss on the cheek. They hugged and her daughter ran off to catch the bus. Susan made her way to the kitchen to find her fiancé reviewing his work schedule on his tablet.\n\n\"You're up early.\" Susan commented as she opened the fridge.\n\n\"Today there will be air strikes. I estimate a lot of deaths and a lot more family members that will demand my services.\" He replied in between sips of his coffee. \"You doing this one or are you going to delegate it to one of your subordinates?\"\n\nSusan found leftovers from last night's dinner. \"I'll do this one myself. But I'll be back before our daughter gets home.\"\n\nShe sat at the dinner table and started eating. Food was such a wonderful experience that she found it incredibly ironic too much food could kill people. \n\n\"You know, her birthday is coming up. Thought of anything to get her?\" Susan asked between bites.\n\nWithout looking up from his tablet. \"A pony.\"\n\n\"Really now.\"\n\n\"No really a pony.\"\n\nSusan roller her eyes she finished her meal. \n\n\"Give em hell honey.\" she said as got up and went to the weapon's closet.\n\nOpening the closet she was greeted by her large collection of scythes. Most of them were exactly the same but some were weighted differently or had different designs. They all served the exact same function but Susan just liked different scythes to fit her moods. After selecting one she closed the door and vanished.", "You know those times when you can feel something near you? Sort of like a cold dread, and sometimes you can almost imagine someone reaching out to you, to grab you and pull you towards them. That feeling that chills you to the bone?\n\nI feel that all the time. Every waking second, I've never been alone. \n\nThat feeling is here right now, a strong burst, and I just know there's somebody right behind me. I spin around, to catch them before the sensation disappears. \n\nI can see it sometimes. A shadow, or a slight movement, but then it is gone. But not this time.\n\nNot. \n\nThis.\n\nTime.\n\nThis time, I can see it clearly. A dark shadow stands in front of me, towering over, and I can feel myself shrinking into the ground. Whatever it is, it begins to whisper. Soundless words hissed at me, but somehow I know what it's saying.\n\nTime to die, it hisses, its voice a hoarse rasp, the sound rattling in what I suppose must be its throat.\n\nYou know what?\n\nNo. \n\nThere must be some way to stop this. I grab the nearest item to me. Some sort of stick, and I swing it into the shadow. When it makes contact, something weird happens. A sudden wind appears, whipping around my coat, and the shadow flickers, uncertain, then zipping in random directions before falling to the ground, the only sound now a harsh wheezing. It is the most dreadful sound I've ever heard.\n\nI bring the stick down again, and at its touch, the shadows disappear, taking on a more human form, and I see only an old man lying on a hospital bed, the final light fading from his eyes forever. \n\nI raise the stick back up, but notice for the first time that there is a metallic sheen to it. Some sort of blade stuck to one end. The stick that instantly vanquishes the spark of life. \n\nI catch sight of myself in the mirrored blade. A hollow face, eyes so sunken they are shrouded in darkness. I notice for the first time how cold the room has become, and pull the hood of my coat over my head.\n\nNot again, I think to myself." ]	9
	[WP] Harold, the janitor, was barely able to mop up the last traces of blood before the first workers arrived that morning.	[ "\"Damn it.\"Harold muttered to himself. \n\nThe green mop glided across the waxed floor of the middle school cafeteria, soaking up the crimson liquid which covered a large portion of the area. Unfortunately the solutions that were accessable to him lacked the efficency to tackle such a mess. It made his job harder, just like the anal-retentive coach who wanted the gym set up for games every day, or the little girl who manages to puke every morning after getting off the bus. Or the rascal who paints smiles with it's own feces in random bathrooms.\n\nIt wasn't the job he hated, in fact, he loved his job. He made bank every month, the retirement plan was up to 100k, and no one was around to give him directive. \n\nThe people--it was the people he hated. Every child. Every teacher. Every helicopter parent who shielded their kids from the terrors of the world. He wished them all a spectacular death. \n\nThe liquid spread thinner, creating pink stains were the mop had gone. Harold looked at his watch. \n\nSix-thirty. She bled like a pig.\n \nHe pulled the trigger on the bottle of orange solution and sprayed where he cleaned. He didn't know why he did what he did. He enjoyed it though; every last tear of her flesh, the screaming, the warmth of the blood on his hands, her lips and how they felt against his. It was ecstasy. \n \nLong after the deed, the waking sun reflected off of the prestine caffeteria floor where Ms. Carver's dismembered body once lay. A man wearing an all-too-familiar uniform unlocked the door behind him, swinging his keys to his side. Harold smiled as he walked past, but he refused to make eye contact. \n\n\"Morning Pete.\" \n\nThe man nodded and glanced at the floor under him. He stopped abruptly, noticing a detail Harold must have missed. He slid a finger across the wax coating and raised it to his eye. \"Did…did you use citrus chisel on this?\"\n\nHe looked down, only to realize the streaks leading from the hall to his area. \"Yes. Yes I did.\" \n", "Being a Janitor is not a pleasant job. You spend each day cleaning the filth left behind by other people. For Harold, it was something he didn't mind, because someone had to do it. The school could be a messy place, a thousand teenagers ran through the halls of the place every day after all, staff rooms and classes were home to the forgotten coffee cups of many an overworked teacher and he couldn't remember the last time a day had went by without a single incident of vomit.\n\nThis stain though. This one would always be there. It didn't matter how many times he ran it through with bleach, or got fresh water for his mop. He could still see it. A red ichor that oozed like treacle. \n\nSarah was one of those new, modern teachers. She was young, excited, and eager to impress the students. She really did enjoy her job, in fact, she thrived on it. She would come up with new and inventive ways to teach kids about Shakespeare and commas. Nothing was too dull and wherever she went, she smiled. She smiled at the apple a kid in her class would put on her desk each day, and she hid her smile when she found a student funny but couldn't admit it. She had a grin on her face watching Sam, the maths teacher, fall over in the ice one year. \n\nShe smiled at Harold too. She was smiling when some kids decided they'd make fun of how he smelled, and she smiled when another teacher had cracked a joke about spilling coffee to make him clean it up. She wasn't smiling last night though, not with the knife in her gut and her innards spilled out onto the floor. \n\nHarold didn't smile often, but right now, even as he finished cleaning the hall and said good morning to the cafeteria staff, he smiled. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Suddenly all over the normally quiet city the internet goes out, the phones are down, electricity is gone, within one minute you hear gunshots and people screaming	[ "It was Sunday.\n\nThe bomb hit, the shit had actually destroyed the fan.\n\nIn the dim light of my now dis-illuminated house, I croon my neck to the sounds of gunshots and people screaming. These are my neighbors.\n\nI can hear Jack, the thoughtless, careless husband that the wife was screwing around on cry out to his oldest son, Harold.\n\n\"Harold!, they're going around back!, I can't make out the patches on the unifor--\" His voice was drowned out by the repetitive fire of a semi-automatic expelled projectile jamming it's way through his windpipe, severing the vocal cords, and reducing his scream to a choked drowning noise.\n\nI sat up in my living room, pushing the cats aside from the tin-foiled windows, trying to peel back a layer of foil and newsprint that I had been using as a way to isolate myself from a world filled with artificial light and true darkness. \n\nI saw them, as the armor piercing rounds sawed through my wall, and into at least two of my kittens.\n\nI rushed to the aid of my feline friends, and took them out of this world with a small twist, reminding myself to do the same to their killers.\n\nRushing to the couch, I pushed the heavy hide-a-bed 6 feet in a single motion, and punched in the numbers to my floor safe. \n\n4-7-7-3\n\nThe locking mechanism clicked and hissed as the pressure was equalized. Best 20K I ever spent, and a good thing military contracts pay well, because it's time to pay back.", "Jake’s eyelids felt heavy and he pushed his book out and held it away from his chest. He hadn’t realized that he was so tired, but the day had been demanding and he didn’t have the energy to finish even a few pages before he started to drift off. He pushed aside his covers as he reached across his bedside table, where a small light on his phone flashed green to let him know it was fully charged. He hit a button to light up the screen. 11:58 p.m. It was later than he thought. \n\nOutside he could hear the traffic of the nearby freeway. A few of the Thursday night patrons at the bar across the street were talking loudly as they smoked cigarettes. A soft red light from above the bar drifted through his window and combined with the soft glow of his lamp. A truck horn blared in the distance. Jake drowsily slid his hand between around phone and a glass of water, towards his lamp, which gave off just enough light to read by. But before he could pull the chain, there was a loud click, and his bedroom turned into pitch darkness.\n\nStartled, he sat straight up. He couldn’t remember having a power outage since he was a child. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure if there was a fuse box in his new apartment. He cautiously dropped his hand onto his bedside table, groping for his phone, careful not to spill his water. His fingers traced the outside of his phone, and he deftly picked it up from the table. He pressed the button, once, twice, trying to light up the screen so he could even have a tiny bit of light. Nothing. Didn’t it just say it was fully charged? Exasperated, he put it back on the table. Suddenly, he heard a loud crash, as if a tractor-trailer had crashed headlong into his building. Jake swung his legs over the side of his bed and leaned forward to peer out the window. \n\nThe noise from the people outside of the bar had grown louder, but he couldn’t see make them out in the almost nonexistent moonlight. All the lights at the bar and down the street were out. The voices grew louder as more people shuffled out of the bar and joined them on the street. A drunk had started to yell obscenities, and a group seemed to be trying to calm him down. That’s when he heard the first bang. Like a gunshot noise that you would hear in one of those old made-for-television-movies. Then another, and another. The drunk yelling obscenities had turned into several people screaming. \n\nJust then something that sounded like a bomb went off. The screaming turned into a ringing in Jake’s ears as he flung himself away from the bed and the window in the dark. He heard his apartment door burst open, splintering the doorframe. He had just enough time to dive across to floor to his closet and slam it shut behind him. Fumbling for the briefcase he knew was tucked away neatly in the back. This time, he was certain. This time, he knew they had come for him.\n\n", "\"The Electric's stopped again hasn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes\"\n\n\"Oh. The telephone's broken as well.\"\n\n\"Yep. We got a letter saying it was broken until next week\"\n\n\"So where are the gunshots and screaming coming from?\"\n\n\"My laptop still works. I was on Reddit but I got this new DVD in the post earlier and decided to watch it.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" said the man to his wife. Thud. He hit the floor.\n\n\"I was joking darling. Tonight the city is mine!\"" ]	3
An interesting line that happened to come from /u/asiansteev 's friend's fortune cookie. http://imgur.com/EiJQue8 Submissions need not relate to fortune cookies.	[WP] "Right there in front of you! All the darkness in the world."	[ "I was staring into the mirror. Twitching muscles tore at my eyes, and I met and left my own gaze several times. \n\n\"Oh Lord, why did everything always have to keep changing like this?\" Was that me, or did I leave my radio on? Shuffling away from the mirror, I glanced down at my body. What was happening to me? I began to dig deeper. I was in it now. Beyond rational thought, cohesion gone. I was getting nervous again. \n\n \"I am in deep now.\" Animalistic. A low moan escaped from clenched lips. \n\nA while back I took a lot of acid. It was more then I had ever done, and I was ready. But not for this. Day passes, and night comes, and I am alone with myself. I hate, I hunger. I want to kill him. I want her to suffer alone. I would relish the misery of them both, because if they were dead, they would not be able to suffer. I am not capable of forgiveness. I dream, of crushing men below me in order to grow. I was low, deep in the depths of myself. Honesty awakened, no veneer of humanity to cover the truth. I would kill a man, if it meant I would more forward and upward. \n\n\"Of course that means I couldn't get caught.\" I shuffled back to the mirror. My eyes slowly traveled up my body, and in time, I looked into my eyes. \n\n\"There, right in front of you, all the darkness in the world.\" ", "We were all crowded together. It was tight, I couldn't breathe.\n\nAll of the white and black stripes dangling off of the lanky figures, it was almost something you'd think you've seen in a Dalì piece. Although it wasn't as beautiful as Dalì's work, it was definitely just as surreal. \n\nAfter several minutes, they finally led the boy out. They had already draped the black fabric over his face, which was probably the most moral thing to do. But, then again, when have the Germans portrayed to us their morality? \n\nHe couldn't have been older than 11. And, yet, they made it seem as if it was a struggle to drag him up onto the stilted platform. I was standing near the back, but I could still hear the muffled moans and groans of the boy. If I'm to be honest with myself, I'd say that I was slightly angry at him. Who did he think he was, stealing those extra food rations? He knew the consequences, and he followed through. How dare he make us sympathize him, in a land of no compassion?\n\nThere was no sound other than the quiet sobbing of the boy. If I didn't know better, I'd think this crowd was one of corpses, for you could hear no one breathing. The only sound, the boy's sobbing, seemed to increase in volume. So much so, that it felt like he was standing to my side, bawling loudly and obnoxiously. It got to a point where I wanted to be the man up there to pull the lever.\n\nThen I realized that I could never. \n\nThey held the noose above his head and let it fall, landing on his shoulders. They had to tighten it quite a bit to be able to fit it around his scrawny little neck. With each yank of the noose, you'd hear him mutter a cry, probably to his mother, whom was most likely a pile of ash. \n\nNow, there was nothing. The boy had quit sobbing. He had come to terms with it, I thought. At this point, right now, we had just watched this child transition from boy to man. He was ready. \n\nOne of the men on the platform looked down at his time piece. He started bobbing his head to the count of seconds, looked up, and nodded. \n\nThere was a pull of a lever. \n\nI didn't know if the cry was from the boy or the wood, but it was deafening, nonetheless. I saw the top of the rope fall, tighten, bounce, bounce, bounce, and straighten. Then the crowd unexpectedly moved forward. At first, I didn't know what was happening. But then, I saw them. The boy was so small the rope had not broken his neck when he had hanged, and there was a group of men, aged from child to senior, pulling the boy by his ankles and legs. They were yanking and pulling vigorously and an elderly man was dangling off of the ground by the boys' feet, sobbing. \n\nI stood in awe among the other men who also hadn't the stomach to bear such a thing. The man next to me, a young man whom I've labored with but never spoken to, leaned in and whispered with a face of stone,\n\n\"Alas! Right in front of you. All the darkness in the world.\" \n\nAfter five minutes there was an assurance of the boys' death, and everyone went to their barracks to get some rest before the next morning's labor. \n\nI need to gain weight, I thought.\n", "Alex pushed the door shut behind him, inhaled deeply, then let the day out. The lights were off again. He sighed, making his way into the dark room, plastic grocery bag rustling against the wall while he felt for the light switch.\n\nHe pushed up the plastic tab, illuminating the room and the person watching him from the corner. Alex widened his eyes and jumped in shock, then swore.\n\n\"God damn it dude, what the fuck are you doing?\"\n\nHe smiled with a childish humor. \"Well I'm not being damned by God,\" he laughed.\n\nMau was getting weird again. That wasn't good. \"Dude, why aren't you watching TV or something? People don't just stand around in the dark, you know that.\"\n\nMau shrugged, then went up to Alex and took the groceries out of his hand. He stuck his face in it and walked into the kitchen. \"More chili and apples,\" he said, not at all thrilled. \"Why don't you get some beef or something sometime?\"\n\n\"You know they don't want you eating red meat. Part of the process...\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" Mau said from around the wall, \"well maybe some chicken or turkey. I'd even take fish! That stuff's fine, right?\"\n\nAlex shrugged. \"Yeah, probably.\" He had actually been thinking of getting of getting some rotisserie chicken for dinner on sunday, but didn't mention it. Either the plan fell through or it was a pleasant surprise, either way it didn't do any harm not telling him.\n\nHe went into his room and changed out of his clothes. He was having second thoughts about tomorrow night, but reconciled himself after remembering the many discussions he'd had with Laura. Mau was really good about behaving appropriately most of the time, he just needed to get out of the city and go hiking for a few days every once in a while. He was progressing incredibly quickly, far faster than any of the others he'd helped through recovery, and Alex was certain that he'd be perfectly acclimated in less than a year.\n\nAlex walked back into the living room to find Mau scooping chili out of the can with his fingers and absent-mindedly staring at the wall. \"Dude!\"\n\nMau looked at him questioningly. Alex gestured to the chili can. \"Oh, yeah,\" he said, then went into the kitchen and got out the appropriate bowl and spoon. At least he used a can opener and didn't try it with his teeth like he did in the first week.\n\n\"Honestly, you can really act weird sometimes,\" he said, trying to keep off the tones of voice that make the recoveree feel like they were being berated. He went and sat on the couch, turning on the TV with the remote. \"It's bad enough that you look like L, you don't need to act like him!\" He joked, citing one of the TV shows that he'd actually been able to get Mau to watch. Alex thought for a second, wondering if he could get him to watch some other anime, but decided it probably wouldn't do him that much good.\n\nMau came into the living room and stood next to the couch, eating the cold chili and looking at him. Alex couldn't help but glance at his teeth, but Mau didn't seem to notice.\n\nAlex's accusation had apparently gotten him thinking, though. \"Humans live really boring lives.\" He said, resting the spoon on the side of the bowl. \"People lock themselves up in their schedules, going around everywhere with the lights on, doing the same things over and over. You're all afraid of the dark, of the unknown, of adventure, and that's something that I need.\"\n\nAlex had had this conversation with him before, and with many others. Adjusting to human society was something that the recoveree had to want, and it was something that they had to let happen. Forcing them into it with lessons and rules often made them more resistant and, nine times out of ten, made them run away from it and end up as a vagrant. Fortunately, all Mau really needed was excitement, and all he needed to get that was a little shift in his perspective.\n\nAlex patted the couch, and Mau slumped down next to him. \"Hey, what time are you off work tomorrow?\" Alex asked, trying not to let his excitement show.\n\n\"Probably two or three. Do you have an activity planned?\"\n\nAlex laughed. \"No, nothing quite so formal. Me and Laura are just going out for dinner, and she wanted to introduce you to someone!\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Mau asked, looking up from his chili and raising an eyebrow.\n\n------------------------------------------------------\n\nAlex's worry was increasing, but he kept close to Mau and tried to keep the conversation interesting to him. It was bad enough that Mau was itching to get out of the city, and now he was being put in an extremely social setting. Mau didn't look too uneasy, though, which helped Alex relax. He only hoped Mau wasn't eyeing peoples' jugulars like he used to.\n\nOn the bright side, Mau was looking really good, especially in the new clothes they'd bought. His skin definitely wasn't as pale as it used to be, despite his comment the other evening, and with all the hiking and physical labor at his job he was looking like a normal, healthy human - with all the hair and sweat and heart-beating that came along with it. \n\nAlex scanned the tables in the diner, then spotted Laura just as she started waving them over. The friend she'd brought looked pretty excited to meet Mau, and was honestly pretty attractive.\n\n\"Alright man, time to bring out those social skills!\" Alex said, pulling Mau close and walking him slowly toward the table.\n\nSocializing with friends and meeting new people might just be the kind of adventure that worked for Mau - and if he and Laura's scheme worked out, Mau might even get into the world of human relationships.\n\n\"Alright Mau, this girl can be a bit quirky,\" Alex said, thinking that it was already a perfect match, \"but she's really outdoors-y, so you guys ought to get along quite well.\" Mau looked at him questioningly again. \"You want to know what we humans do to break up the monotony?\" Alex asked. \"You want to know where we get our unknown, our adventure, that keeps the boredom out of our lives?\" Alex nodded toward the girl at the table. They were nearly there. \"It's right there in front of you! All the darkness you could ever need!\"\n", "\"Right there in front of you! All the darkness in the world.\" The ragged elderly groundskeeper made a broad sweeping motion with his free hand, and my gaze followed, falling upon headstone after headstone in this decrepit place. He continues walking, his deliberate steps as slow as his rambling. I entertain his musings, if only because I need his guidance through the graveyard.\n\n\"We make our own darkness!\" the groundskeeper says. \"Each and every one of us. It's people: People are the problem. There isn't a single one of us without some dark, dirty secret. Something you don't want your lovers or mothers finding out.\"\n\nClouds cover the sky tonight. A sliver of the moon peeks from behind its cover, but aside from that, the only light is the lantern that I carry, casting shadows in every direction. The smell of death and earth cling tight to each other, and drift into my senses. Our footfalls on the well-worn dirt path are the only sound that lingers in the air.\n\n\"People don't want to go to hell, well, they're already here! They just need to look around them.\"\n\n\"But where you see hell, some people see heaven and beauty in the world, Ezekiel.\" I decided I would engage the groundskeeper, play devil's advocate.\n\nHe shrugs. \"Can't have one without the other, I suppose. Two sides of the same coin. We're all damned in the end, though.\" Ezekiel was a bitter old man, but with his years came a certain kind of wisdom.\n\n\"We're all damned? Even the priests and the saints?\"\n\n\"It's the dark secrets, Daniel! The secrets are our undoing! After all, that's why you're here, isn't it? You want to know a secret. What, pray tell, is so important about this, that you would come to my cemetery in the darkest hours of the night?\"\n\nI stayed silent. My intentions were none of his concern.\n\nEzekiel looked at me, his mouth growing sour. Abruptly, his eyes turned bright and a chuckle came from deep in his throat. \"Ah, secrets will be secrets I suppose. All the darkness in the world... It doesn't matter, you can tell me when I meet you in hell.\"\n\nHe stops, suddenly. I almost keep walking, so intent on my mission.\n\n\"We are here,\" he tells me, stabbing the shovel he was carrying into the ground next to the headstone we've paused at. \"Return the shovel to me when you've finished. God only knows what you're doing, Daniel, but I hope you find some answers.\" And without another word, he returns into the darkness, leaving the lantern with me.\n\nI read the tombstone. \"Simon Blake.\" It was, of course, the grave that I had been searching for.\n\n\"Father... I've come for answers.\"\n\nI picked up the shovel, and began to dig.\n\n", "It if weren’t for the darkness, I would not recognize the light.\n\nAnd if man could do no wrong, how could some do what’s right?\n\nIf we could not be grotesque how would we then feel clean?\n\nIf we did not have nightmares, how could we know a dream?\n\nNow, it’s long been man’s directive, to purge himself of sin,\n\nbut would the husk that then remains, really look like Him?\n\nThe devil has his drawbacks, a dirty dealer, in the least,\n\nbut wouldn’t God soon waste away sans his foe, the Beast?\n\nTo be filthy is to be true, we die as we are born,\n\nbut to leave our mark upon this world is nothing of concern.\n\nOne may reach the end of his life and find his soul’s been gnarled,\n\nbut it’s right there in front of you, all the darkness in the world.\n", "\"Right there in front of you! All the darkness in the world.\"\n\nLazarus McKinley looked up from his fortune cookie, a cold sweat coming over him. The woman before him, a potential employer, sat. She was still smiling but the feeling of worry, must have been apparent. \n\n\"Is something wrong, Mr. McKinley?\"\n\nLazarus licked his dried lips in a vain attempt to moisten them, \"What did you say this job was, exactly?\"\n\n\"Well, the details and duties will shift over time, but if I had to summarize your role in the company in one easy title, I would have to say 'Problem solver.' As an intern, if we have any issues, you will be tasked with fixing them. If we need something or someone fetched, you will fetch them.\"\n\n\"Like a gofer?\" Lazarus' mouth was still dry and his fingers played with the ominous fortune paper. \n\n\"It's the opportunity of a lifetime, Mr. McKinley. You need a job, we have an opening\" She stuck her hand out expecting a handshake. \"What do you say?\"\n\nTentatively, Lazarus reached forward and shook the woman's hand. He came away with a single black pen in his hand. \"How did yo-\"\n\n\"Sign here, here here, annnddd, here.\" The woman pointed out each line on the contract he was to sign.\n\nHe remembered the fortune's words: \"Right there in front of you! All the darkness in the world.\"\n\nHe felt bile rising in his stomach, but he signed his life over anyway.", "The fall had been a few seconds, but to him, it had been as eternal as his own damned existence.\n\nJohn didn't have anything to hold, to touch, to love. His only acquaintance was the glass bottle that held his poison, willing him to drown himself in his own sorrows, his drunken tears tearing his soul apart. It had turned him into a man whose body was left with scars, his black coat covering the countless tears from his white shirt. His leather pants covered with stains from the night before, where he had cried himself to sleep, like any other night.\n\nIt had become his routine, to be mixed into his emotions, drinking till he felt numb to the bone. No matter how hard he tried to wash himself over though, the gap that was carving at his heart was never filled. He'd given up trying to fill it, he accepted that it never could be, he just drank because it was the only thing he could do.\n\n\"Just reach my hand, and we can talk about this!\" The woman held out her hand, wanting it to be taken, but John refused, and shuffled closer to the chasm that awaited him. He eyed it, not feeling any sense of fear, but pain that he knew could not be helped. \n\nAs he looked at the woman, she saw it, she saw that his hand would not stray from his side. She saw the space in his empty heart, a void that had been growing for far too long, only bringing pain and sorrow.\n\n\"Right there in front of you!\" She wailed. He didn't even know her name, yet he felt sorry for her, for the pain that she would live through, thinking about this very moment till her last breath. \n\n\"All the darkness in the world.\"\n\nHis body relaxed, the first time since he let her go, when speaking those words. It was not his fault that he was left with a burden that would push him off this very cliff, escaping this eternal hell.\n\n\"I intend to join it.\" \n\n", "\"Right there in front of you! All the darkness in the world.\" \nThe old man nodded, loose skin flapping - gaunt eyes watchful.\n\"They say those who walk into it are shown fears they themselves don't know. The secrets so dark a man keeps them from himself. Men go mad, in there.\" \nThe Gunslinger nodded, touching the tip of his hat. \n\"Thank you.\" \nAnd he stepped into the shadows. ", "Senophostria sighed.\n\nThe day had come to an end most surprisingly; an elderly gentleman, one who was made of old wrinkles and half-finished stories, sat hushed and still in his old, leather chair. The chessboard lay toppled on its side, resting against the small table that sat between her and the old man; the pieces carelessly strewn across the floor, and the Black King standing upright among his fellow warriors, quiet, and stoic.\n\nIn the quiet, still nighttime, the moon shone through curtained windows, illuminating the ghostly shape of the same old man, just a wispy silhouette of his former self.\n\nHe stared out the window at the full moon, his hands crossed behind his back.\n\n\"So it's right there in front of you?\" He asked, his voice failing to stir a raven which had come to peck and prod at a small bronze beetle crawling along the windowsill. A breeze came in through the open window, and rustled the curtains.\n\nSenophostria nodded. \"All of the darkness in the world, and yet, it is the moments like these in which I think I find the most light.\"\n\nThe old man was unperturbed. He did not turn to look at the woman, her great scythe leaned against the chair in which she had been sitting. Large, red leather, just like the chair his body now sat in, breathless and finally lifeless, after a final game of chess, against a worthy foe. Neither did he see her adjust the face of a broken clock to read exactly midnight, though she knew most certainly that it was later than that. \n\n\"Are you ready to go, now? We should not keep Oparai waiting for very long. He can be impatient.\" Her black robes rustled, and a single, thin hand slid out from under the folds to turn back the hands on another clock face. This one an old mahogany piece, centuries old. \n\n\"I suppose it is about that time.\" He said. His voice was old, and his eyes were old, and he spoke with a certain calmness that Senophostria did not often see in the recently deceased. \n\n\"Will I still be able to play chess?\" He asked, finally turning to face the Reaper, his own thin hand gesturing towards the fallen chessboard, and the chess pieces on the floor.\n\nShe nodded.\n\nIn the quiet of the night, the raven on the windowsill tapped its beak against the glass, and then ruffled its big, black feathers. In the distance, an owl cried out, and rose from its tree on soundless wings.\n\n\"Will there be anyone who can play as ruthlessly as you?\" The old man had put on a smile, but it was an unsure smile. A smile which only pretended to be confident, and secure. He steadied one of his hands from shaking, with the other, and let out a ghostly sigh.\n\n\"Look for a man named Matthias. He is as old as those trees outside, and I learned everything I know from him.\"\n\nSenophostria walked over towards the shade of the old man. Next to him, she felt small, like a young child standing next to the aged frame of their grandfather, or an old soldier from the war. Gently, she took his shaky hand, and smiled at him with a smile that radiated a warmth that almost felt like it was alive.\n\n\"They'll all be waiting, then?\" He had tried not to sound hopeful when he asked, but Senophostria had seen the medals splayed across his chest in gold and red. The uniform, tight and proper, smelling of mothballs and stale air, still fit him well. \n\n\"I don't know,\" she replied sadly, looking down. \n\n\"Some of them, maybe. I am not the only reaper, and I do not know the lives they lived, but if they served Oparai in life, then he will seek them out in death, and they will be there.\"\n\nThe quiet of the night fell over the both of them, as they stood and stared out the window. A cool fog had rolled in and muffled the landscape; only the crooked, gnarled hands of the trees and their branches could be made out in the blackness that sat beyond the safety of the walls. It was a long time that they stood in silence, then,\n\n\"All of the darkness,\" he said.\n\n\"That's why they send a guide.\" She said, and as they both walked towards the huge, oak doors that led out of the old man's study, they faded out of sight.\n\nIn the morning, dawn broke over a silent scene; the old man had passed away at the stroke of midnight, his heart had stopped, and in the middle of the floor, finally tipped on his side, was the Black King, surrounded by his men, all fallen around him.\n" ]	9
	[WP] after seeing that his or her sword is not effective, a RPG character decides to use the thousands of gold coins he has as a weapon.	[ "The ravenous wolves were too quick, and the beast handlers chortled in the background, too far away for Emerion to attack. She spun around, her sword leading the way and cutting nothing but the air, and the whistle of the weapon served only to mock her as the wolf leapt out of range an another tackled her from behind.\n\nShe fell to all fours and promptly rolled aside, gold coins spilling out from her pack. Another useless swing and she was again tackled, this time tangling in her drenched cloak; it appeared several of her potions had broken and soaked her winter wear. It was buying her time now, at least, as the cheap brew she insisted on buying so she could stockpile gold was a vile concoction that smelled of rot and too much garlic and ginger.\n\nIt was the glimmer of the gold on the ground that gave her the idea. A solidus had a weight of 4.5 grams, and though she suspected the thieving innkeepers of the land would shave the edges, that still meant that the stockpile of sixteen thousand and odd coins would weigh about 160 pounds. And there they sat, tightly packed in the leather bag.\n\nWith a plan forming, she just needed the proper cover to execute, and luckily, the setting sun showed her what she needed. A jagged rock formation on the edge of the cliff.\n\nUsing her foul smelling cloak to ward away the wolves, and using her sword to fend of the whips of the handlers she sprinted across the clearing.\n\nShe leapt over the first of the rocks and threw her pack up high on the next and rolled around the side as she drew her only offensive scroll from the waterproof messenger pouch she kept at the hip.\n\nIt wasn’t a particularly useful scroll, a simple first class combustion spell. She only kept it for those night when finding proper kindling was impossible. She whispered the proper word and hurriedly stuffed the scroll amidst the enormous heap of gold coins.\n", "\"Keep him busy! I've got an idea!\"\n\n\"I think we can do that. A hundred thousand HP, it's not like we're going to kill him any time soon.\"\n\nEiras began climbing one of the ornate pillars of the boss room, the intricate carvings providing plenty of handholds. Maxim wordlessly moved into the front of the party's formation, sword and shield at the ready. Behind him, Luna and Bern, the party's mages, prepared to buff and heal. The Dire Dragon let out a blood-chilling roar and charged, one massive claw descending on the party's tank. Maxim's shield took the hit with a shriek of tortured metal, and he answered with his own blade.\n\n\"Hurry it up! He's already at three-quarters health!\"\n\n\"I'm going as fast as I can. Use a Hi-Potion if you have to.\"\n\nMore roars and crashes sounded below him.\n\nMaxim growled as he batted aside another claw attack. \"What the hell's taking you so long? When we were chasing that thief in Argos you were jumping all over the rooftops!\"\n\n\"That was a cutscene! It's a lot harder to do this in combat.\"\n\n\"That's your excuse?\"\n\n\"Actually, he's got a point,\" Bern interrupted. \"I'm pretty sure the combat system doesn't include any sort of 'Climb' command. How are you doing that at all?\"\n\n\"Very carefully. Now can you stop distracting me and get back to tanking?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes sir! We're totally cool with tanking. Nothing more fun than watching your best friend dying by inches, closing their wounds only to see them ripped open again moments later. Having the time of my life here.\"\n\n\"Luna! Not. Helping.\" Eiras said through clenched teeth. He was hauling himself up the vaulted ceiling now, almost directly above the Dire Dragon.\n\n\"He's at one-third health and I don't have enough mana for a Mega-Heal. I think I'm allowed to get a little snippy.\"\n\n\"I'm at the top! Keep him still, right below me!\"\n\nBern waved his staff and shouted \"Bind!\" Bands of force encircled the dragon, entangling it and slowing it's movements.\n\n\"And now, look out below.\" Eiras hung from the roof with one hand. With the other hand, he reached for a pouch hanging at his belt, turned it upside, and shook it. And his Inventory fell out.\n\nA few swords and staves of varying quality, a few dozen suits of armor specced for different resistances, hundreds of crafting components, thousands of gold coins, all poured out in a tidal wave of adventuring gear. The combined weight was something like two tons of inventory, slamming down on the monster like the world's most expensive anvil. Maxim had just enough warning to jump clear, though he was still knocked over by the flood of items. The Dire Dragon, however, didn't stand a chance.\n\nVictory music played. The party struck their traditional pose, Maxim planting his sword firmly in the ground in front of him, Bern leaning on his staff looking wizardly, Luna raising her wand. Eiras flourished his twin swords and returned them to their sheaths... letting go of the ceiling as he did so.\n\n\"Whoops.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Describe the moment when an immortal first wishes they could die.	[ "\"It's time for your tests\" \nHe hadn't noticed it, again. The buzzing of the clearance card opening the door to his cell. How could he? After so many times, it's easy to ignore. Every day, at exactly 8am, the door would open and the two men would take him to the testing facilities. He knew the routine; take these pills. Lay down flat. Answer all of their questions. \n\nHow could he answer what he doesn't know? The thought had been increasingly annoying and it showed in his answers. \"Look, I just don't age. I just don't.\" They seemed just as indifferent today as they had been the last five hundred times. Or maybe five thousand, he couldn't tell for sure. It had been years since he saw the sun set or rise, felt the breeze of the wind in his face. It's all walls now, walls and doors. And tests. \n\n\"What was Ghengis Khan like?\" now they were just taunting him, probing his feelings hoping to unlock his mouth and make him spill all the secrets. In truth, there was no secret, and if there was, he'd tell them if only in hopes to one day get out of this place. \n\n\"I've told you all I know, please-\" but there would be no pleasing. There would be going-back-to-the-cell-awaiting-tomorrow instead. And tomorrow came. ", "It wasn't when my first love died. Nor my second. Nor when my first child died. I saw countless grandchildren and further generations die. Watching your family unfurl over the course of centuries is actually a rare pleasure.\n\nIt wasn't when the times moved on without me. The industrial revolution, the electronic revolution, the warp revolution, all of them were amazing to watch, and relearning how society works has been thrilling.\n\nIt wasn't when humanity eventually fell, through a series of bad military mistakes, some quantum plagues, and a series of unfortunate massive natural disasters. I became a wandering curiosity, the last of his kind, wandering the stars and meeting new races. Relearning how society works as humanity marched on was nothing compared to visiting a whole new species.\n\nTraveling in the outer reaches of the Large Magellanic Cloud, the ship I was on was attacked, plundered, and left adrift, everyone aboard presumed dead because immortality is rarer than can be described. I don't know how long its been. I do know you aren't really here. I also know there will come a point where I forget that. When I realized just how far away I was from everything, that's when I wished I could die." ]	2
	[WP] The world's best doctor is also the Reaper in human form. He takes souls to keep himself alive, and encounters the next dying patient who's soul will let him live another day--his mother.	[ "> Reposted from a website I'm an administrator for. The user [chaoticNightmare](http://www.epidemicjohto.com/u74) gave me their permission to repost it here on their behalf.\n\nWeak beams of pale sunlight filtered into an otherwise pitch black room through holes in the dusty burgundy curtains. Groaning with disdain as the shining light washed over his face, a young disheaveled male rolled over, hoping to escape the burning rays of morning sun pervading his room. Instead another wide ray caught the young male finally rousing him for the day. Sounds of sizzling bacon and cracking eggs filled the air, Zivian retched slightly at the wafting scent of human food. 'Why does that woman insist on cooking such vile, grease filled nourishment?' The dark haired reaper grumbled mentally, rising to his feet. He had carelessly fallen asleep in his street clothes again, a heavy, half hearted sigh parting Zivian's lips, he discarded the wrinkled jeans and rumpled tee shirt to the overflowing hamper. Dragging his feet across the threadbare carpet to the half opened wardrobe the young reaper haphazardly tugged his uniform from the hanger just barely poking out of the wooden door. A vague noise resembling a yawn wiggled free of Zivian's mouth as he pulled his trousers on in a painstakingly sluggish manner. His button down shirt followed suit and finally his white coat, both carefully buttoned to avoid wrinkles.\n\nFinally the disatisfied youth shambled down to the kitchen grumbling about the overpowering stentch of bacon and eggs. \"Good morning Ziv,\" A feminine voice cooed. Audibly hissing at the sugar coated words, Zivian sat down on a feeble looking wooden stool and lifted the mail from the dark marble island top. \"Bitter as always I see,\" The woman noted, fidgetting with bits of food on a cracked red dish. \"Well Helga, if you would cease using my kitchen to prepare such vomit worthy meals I might be a bit kinder in the morning,\" Zivian replied, his face set into a scowl as he flipped through the envelopes. Helga started to ramble on about how humans need to eat but he'd heard the rant before and simply tuned her out until his fingers brushed over a gritty, black envelope. \"You aren't even listening to me are you?\" Helga cried in frustrated anguish. Zivian smirked and passed her the wax sealed paper sleeve. Helga froze momentarily but sighed and pushed the package back to Zivian. \"I don't want to know who it is today.\" Helga murmured. Grinning widely, the reaper tore into the envelope with glee. Crimson gloop oozed from the opened paper sleeve, the sight caused Helga to shudder in disgust, but Zivian almost squealed with girlish delight as the blood like substance formed a humanoid figure.Once the figure was fully formed however, the joy lighting up the eager youth's face drained in an instant. \n\n\"Mother...\"He rasped in disbelief.\n\n\"Zivian...? Are you all right?\" Helga asked, trying very hard to remain calm about the sudden reveal of who her young friends next meal was supposed to be. Concern mixed with mild fear washed over Helga's face when her friend did not respond. 'What sort of cruel joke is this, to force a boy, barely a man to kill his mother just so he can live?' She wondered, cursing whatever entity would do this to Zivian. \n\nTime ticked by slowly for the pair of friends as they stared at the slowly melting figure of Zivian's mother. \"I...I need to go to work.\" Zivian finally spoke, breaking the long silence. Slightly started the elder female nodded, gently patting the youthful reaper on the head lightly. \"It's your decision Ziv, but you should try to spend the day by her side.\" Helga offered, her gentle words reassuring Zivian that regardless of what happened she would support him. \"Thanks, Helga...\" Zivian answered, his voice strained and dry. Without another word Zivian left his rundown shack of a home and headed to work.\n\nTraffic was loud as always, smog filled the already polluted air, yet to the young male plodding along towards the hospital it was nothing but background static. 'What am I to do...? How am I supposed to end my mothers life...?' He continued to ask himself even as he pushed through the crowded hospital entryway to get to his station. Zivian moved in a jerking manner, twitching errantly like a puppet on too many strings. Senka, his supervisor and a close family friend approached him with a warm greeting and a soft, melencholy smile. \"Zivian, I know the news must be hard. If you would like I can clear your schedule and you can spend the day with your mother,\" Senka offered her voice filled with unease. \"What news...?\" Zivian mumbled, curious considering he only ever told Helga about himself. \"Your mother is dying, she has a tumor in her brain...It's too large to remove, we believe it's cancer,\" Senka informed him \"She will perish sometime this evening, I am sorry.\" A pained cough escaped the otherwise emotionless youth as he forced himself to hold back tears. Zivian nodded in agreement, despite knowing he could cure her, the rules of a Reaper were firm and unforgiving. To save his mother would mean his death.\n\n\"Very well. I will take your appointments for the day, she is in the-\" The supervisor began but Zivian had already left to find his mother. Fifteen minutes was all it took for the conflicted reaper to find his way to his dying mother's beside. Seeing her pale, weak, skeletal frame made Zivian cringe, sorrow threatening to spill from his watering eyes. Holding it back he sat by her bedside in the strong, blue cushioned oak chair. As if sensing his arrival, Zivian's mother opened her eyes with a small hiss of pain. \"Zivian...You came...\" Leshandra coughed, forcing a small smile. Despite the growing disdain for himself, he offered her a similar grin hoping to ease her pain at least a little. \"I had to mom...You're family.\" He murmered in reply, his hands shuddering with restrained sadness. \"Hush dear.\" Leshandra rasped, licking her dry, cracking lips. Zivian fell silent and softly grasped his mother's hand searching for comfort, for an answer to his dilema. Suddenly his mothers soft humming drew Zivian's mind away from his thoughts and into the past.\n\nHaze filled the room as the scent of baking muffins permeated the stale air around them. Zivian's older brother Julian was running about with a large plastic plane. Meanwhile little electronic insects tumbled feebly across the floor, much to a younger Zivian's disdain. A foggy version of his mother when she was healthy and full of life stepped out from the kitchen with a large smile plastered on her face.\"Who wants a snack?\" The memory asked in an almost sing song tone. Both boys shouted and jumped about, running into the kitchen with joyful spring in their steps. \"We want a snack,\" The brothers cried in unison. Leshandra's illusion chuckled and grinned at her sons. \"Okay okay, one at a time, and no running indoors.\" She chided playfully. \"Yes mother,\" Julian begrudingly muttered. Zivian knew his mother was just joking around despite his younger age. Pulling freshly baked carrot muffins from the oven, Leshandra carefully handed the boys each one. \"Once you are done you should go outside and play for the afternoon.\" She noted, brushing her hands clean on her apron. \n\nThe humming continued but faded slowly as the hours ticked on. But even noticing this Zivian felt content to slip away into his past and forget the current issue at hand. But his mother knew, as despite his wishes Helga had confided in Zivian's mother, because of this awareness she wished to ensure his safety, even if it meant the end of her life. With a small, pathetic cough she continued to hum softly.\n\nThe haze thickened and shifted bringing into focus another memory. This time Zivian was alone with his mother at a park, aimlessly looking for his brother, distraught that he did not come. \"Your brother is staying with your father Zivian.\" Leshandra informed the young child. Zivian knew this but despised the thought of his brother hanging around with their father, he was a disgusting vile man. \"Why does he have to spend time with him?!\" Zivian cried in anguish, clinging to his mothers skirt. With a heavy sigh the aging woman lifted her son gently and held him close. \"Because he chooses to. Zivian please understand the world is not all about you, your brother still loves you.\" Leshandra did her best to explain to quell the childs tantrum. It worked in part but he still sobbed unrelentingly. \"I know b-bu-but...\" He hiccuped.\n\nZivian chuckled at the naivity of his younger self, but something was wrong, the humming had stopped. Panic rose in the young reapers heart as he frantically looked to his mother and took her pulse. Still there, but barely, the sun had long since set during his trip down memory lane, he hissed in anger. He could not save her now, time was too short, he had but one choice left to him. \"Why did you do this...?\" He pleaded, begging for an answer from anyone. His mother sputtered a bit. \"Because I have lived long enough my son, take my soul, keep living your life.\" Leshandra uttered, her voice feeble, and shaky yet still holding the kind authority of a mother as her eyes fell closed. Zivian watched with tears rolling down his cheeks as his mother's light went out and the flame of life that was her soul leave her body. Unable to neglect his mother's dying words the young reaper absorbed the cold orb, saying a small rite of passing before stealing out the window into the night." ]	1
	[WP] You die but death does not allow you to pass on to the next world, but instead has you relive the last hour of your life over and over again until you come to the realisation of why death is doing this to you.	[ "4:17PM\n\n\nI feel like shit. This whole day is shit and all I want is for it to be over. I grumbled to myself driving up to the highway. The air was tense and my entire body needed to release my irritation. There was a sea of cars flooding into the town, probably coming home from a long day at work. Now, it was my turn. \n\nA commercial came onto the radio station. All they played was obnoxious commercials, obnoxious songs, with obnoxious radio hosts. Nonetheless, it was just another way to drown out the life around me. \n\nI glance to my left and there is a gap between traffic giving me enough time to gun-it towards the middle of the intersection. \n\nMy fingers rapidly tap the steering wheel as I groan. My heart was sinking into my chest. I can't focus. My head is clouded with thoughts surrounding the day and it was making me antsy.\n\nI glance to my right and swiftly turned to the left. Reality felt so distant, but in that moment my surroundings clenched me by the throat and threw me against a wall. Gathering my thoughts was nearly impossible and the adrenaline pumping through my body was the only message I was receiving. A booming sound had come from the passenger side of my car. Pain instantly shot through my entire skull. I heard the skid of metal onto the pavement as my car slid into a ditch. I faded into myself. Gears were grinding in the engine and a haze of music entered my ears. \n\n\nNow, I know what I'm without\n\nYou can't just leave me\n\nBreathe into me and make me real\n\nBring me to life\n\n\n4:31PM\n\n\nThe paramedics arrived and I awoke to them treating my body with care as they checked it over. I turned my head toward a handsome male with a sharp jawline, \"I just want today to be over,\" I whine to him.\n\n\"It's not over just yet. You can make it through today and we'll make sure that everything is okay. Just stay with us, alright?\" \nI nodded my head at him.\n\nHe spit out a series of questions at me, but my head was still foggy with a negative attitude. My head hurts. I bring my hand up to my forehead and my blurry vision focuses on the blood covering my hand. The red liquid was warm and dripped down my arm. The world was so distant from where I was. The paramedic sternly let me know that I shouldn't move, but he was so distant too. The thoughts in my head lead me to a half hour ago. \n\nMom had found my stash of cigarettes and empty beer bottles in the back of my closet. \"What are these?\" I remembered her voice piercing through my hangover. \n\n\"What the hell do you think?\"\n\nShe was fuming and I was apathetic. \"Don't you dare talk to me like that.\"\n\n\"I have to go to work.\"\nIgnoring her I dragged myself out of bed and into some clothes. She left the room, but continued to speak from outside of the door.\n\n\"I feel like I'm loosing you, Grace.\"\n\nThere are no more cigarettes left in the pack. Dad keeps his whiskey hidden in basement. That'll have to do. After work I'll find a time to sneak some into my bedroom. \n\n\"How do you expect to make it to college? You're only in high school and you're already acting like a chain smoker and an alcoholic.\" \n\nHer voice was making my skin crawl. \"You're overreacting,\" I said.\n\n\"Grace, please,\" she pleaded, \"your father and I feel like we're losing you. Mentally, you're never really here with us. You're constantly withdrawn.\"\n\nI stared at the clock.\n\n\n4:01PM\n\n\nI opened the door and slammed it shut with trembling hands. My voice was stern and slow, \"I have to go to work.\" \n\n\"Go then.\"\n\nSo, I left without another word. \n\n\n4:42PM\n\n\nHere I was, now: lying on the pavement ready for death to take my hand. \n\nMy mind was a different place than reality. On the outside there were people in a commotion and I didn't understand why. Paramedics, bystanders, and mom at home; they were all scattered around making every effort to fix me. On the inside I was shutting down and calm. \n\nOn the other side of the road I saw a hooded figure who began to waltz through the scene. The aura that surrounded him was dark, mysterious, and collected. When he reached me he crouched down to my level and grasped my hand between his bony fingers. In a deep voice the figure stated, \"I am not upon you, yet. Try to understand.\" As those words rang through my mind, I felt my body begin to physically shut down.\n\nUnderstand what?\n\n\"Before one can die I believe they should be able to perceive the significance of their life.\"\n\nAm I going to die?\n\nThe figure was silent.\n\nThere was no time for this and soon the day would be over. My rib cage was searing in pain, my heart pumped blood through my body strenuously, and blood covered my face. This is how it's going to end, huh? I reflected on the radio, the crash, my mom. The entire time she was talking I blew her off. She was never going to see me again and the last words she would ever be able to say to me was, \"go then.\" \nI haven't appreciated her in years because I've spend my time wrapped up in my own head. My life has been a haze. I've been shrouding myself from the real world this entire time. \n\nI turned to Death. Is this how they'll remember me? My eyes were pleading.\n\n\"Depends on who we're talking about. Will the kid who sat in your math class remember you this way? Yeah, probably. Will the men going off to the this world's future wars even care to have known who you were? Of course not. The ones who were important, those like your mom; they will remember you for more than this phase of your life.\"\n\nAll she did was nag. She never even bothered to ask what was wrong.\n\n\"You're mom was always worried, but people are only human, even mothers. What do you think her perspective was? Really analyze this, Grace.\"\n\nI drew myself into the last hour of my life attempting to see myself from my mother's point of view. In my mind I imagine walking into my room, as my mom would. The clothes are scattered across the floor and the smell pinches my nose. It smells like a whore-house. I lie in my bed. I am her beautiful daughter and the girl she gave birth to. My mother can see me ruining my life. Not only that, but I've slept in until noon and have been complaining of a headache. She was worried about me.\n\nDeath interrupts my thought process. \"Think: after three years of drugs and self indulgence, do you think she didn't notice?\"\n\nHow much did she know?\n\n\"How much do you think she knew?\"\n\nShe probably knew all of it. My mom finally confronted me about her worries and all I did was brush her off. This is how she would remember me, too. I was addicted to drugs and self-centered.\n\n\"Not necessarily,\" Death rebutted, \"she was your mom longer than these last few years.\"\n\nHow will she remember me, then?\n\n\"Your mother will remember you as her daughter. She will recall the first time you tried to ride your bike, when you fell, but then got right back up. She will believe that's what you would have done with your life. She will believe that once you had made it through this struggle that you would've gotten right back up, just like before. Your mother will remember during your middle school graduation how you received the award for the 'Most Talented Singer.' She was proud of you and always had faith in you. Most of all, she will remember the first moment she held you in her arms. Like the majority of moms, she cried pretty hard, but they were tears of overwhelming joy.\"\n\nWill she be sad that she's not a mom anymore?\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\nWell, she's lost her child. Will she be sad that she won't be a mom anymore?\n\n\"Here's the thing: people always wonder why women who've lost their husbands are widows and children who've lost their parents are orphans, but parents who have lost their children have no name. They do have a name though. Parents who have lost their children are still called parents. No matter what has happened to you, she will always be your mom.\"\n\nWill I ever get to see her, again?\n\n\"You're mom has got a while to go, but yes.\"\n\nThat's good, then. What will she do after this?\n\n\"She has another child.\"\n\nWas that why I was important?\n\n\"Yes, you helped her to understand and in this moment you can finally see the world from another person's perspective.\"\n\nWhy do I need to know that, now? Wouldn't it have been useful for me to know that before I was dying?\n\n\"You still have more to go, Grace.\"\n\nWhat do you mean?\n\nDeath fixed his eyes on mine and gently said, \"let's go find out.\"\n\n\nCall time: 5:01PM\n\n\nHe took my hand in his and lead me across the highway. When Death and I reached the edge we watched my mom pull up to the ambulance placing my body in a bag. She recognized the car and jumped out sobbing. Watching this was heart-wrenching. Why was Death making me watch my mom go into hysteria? \n\n\"You have one more deed left.\"\n\nThere was nothing I could do. It would've been wonderful to speak to her just one more time. Under my breath I whispered to her, \"Mom, I'm so sorry.\"\n\nIn that moment she whipped her head around and glared at Death and I. \"We have to go. I'm so sorry, but you'll be okay.\" What was I supposed to say to her? I wished for her to accept what was happening. No matter what I said the impact of my actions was always going to affect her. \"Mom, I love you and I forgive you.\"\n\nAfter speaking I heard two words resonate throughout my entire body and soul, \"thank you.\"\n\n\"That was her.\" Death said as he gazed straight forward. He towered over me, blocking the sun's glare. \"Let's go.\"\n\nWe turned around and stepped away from the scene. Trudging forward he took me to the next world where I would wait to reunite with my mom and watch her life unfold. I hope she knows that I am always with her.", "Born to live and meant to die \nNever wondered \nOr asked why \nFor days, for years \nI wished to find \nThe reason I \nWas left behind \n\nReliving my death \nFor eternity \nMy final breath \nAnd memories \nAnd now at last \nI wonder why \nI alone was left behind \n\nYears have gone by \nAnd still I see \nThe day I die \nEndlessly \nI understand \nWhy this is so \nBut still I stay - \n\nI can never go.", "I knew there was some profound realization in there somewhere. There was a reason I was being made to live the hour of my death over and over again. But, to be honest with you, it simply got boring after a while. What is the point of being made to relive your past if you can't change anything? And I knew what I would change, I would change the fact that I fucking died. I didn't want to die.\n\nI was only thirty seven. You may think that's old but it's not old enough to die. I had just started making real money. I had just started getting the women I wanted. I had just bought my own house, my very own BMW Z4 convertible. It was silver, it was brand new, and it was beautiful. In the beginning, the first few times, I would almost forget that I was about to die. I would get lost in the smell of the leather interior and the crisp gear shifts and the instant burst of speed when I stepped on the gas. It was glorious. And then, suddenly, into the ditch I went. \n\nNot a very profound end. But there must have been some reason. I know why I crashed, I figured it out within the few hundred loops. If I had simply slowed down, taken my time around the bend, I would have been alive. But more specifically, if I had simply turned my steering wheel a few degrees less, I would not have oversteered in the first place. \n\nIn the beginning, it was like when you make a mistake and you stay awake all night reliving that moment, wondering how you could have done it differently. Replaying it over and over again. \n\nBut then it gets old. And the next night you fall asleep just fine. I didn't have that option, so I kept thinking of new ways of avoiding the crash, or saving my life. But I couldn't change anything. You have no idea how frustrating it was. \n\nIt was maddening. If I wasn't dead I would be insane. But then it got boring. I got detached. I didn't see, smell, or feel anything anymore. The last hour of my life became an ever-repeating out-of-body experience. I saw myself get in the car, drive, then crash. I didn't feel the acceleration anymore, the way the car pushed me back into that leather seat. I didn't notice the beautiful blue sky, the cool breeze in my hair as I drove. The relief of being done with work for the week. The anticipation of seeing my father at the hospital. I had felt every emotion, I had experienced it to the fullest, and analyzed it to the extreme. And now it was all a colorless blur. I was lost in limbo.\n\n The hour of my death passed me by over and over again and I didn't notice it anymore. I lost any sense of time. It must have been years, decades, since my death. I didn't even know what I thought about anymore. I didn't remember anything. Nothing mattered. Just endless boredom. In the absence of new experience you create something new, but it's a pale imitation of reality, and deep down you know it. Although sometimes I almost believed it. The recurring nightmare of my death was not even background noise anymore. \n\n\n\nAnd then I woke up. I was back to life. It was strange. I had a very difficult time believing it in the beginning, but then I was excited, exhilarated, and above all, relieved. I wasn't dead. I wasn't in an infinite loop of death. I was fucking alive. And every moment was fleeting. Every experience was new. I wanted to pause, rewind, and repeat everything, but I had to drink in as much of every moment as it passed. I was injured, in a hospital bed. But my family was there, my car was waiting for me, and the cute girl I was texting wanted to meet up. Things were looking up, and I wasn't bored anymore. I could hardly believe it was real. I know there is some profound realization somewhere in here, but I was glad to be alive again. ", "Is that a truck? Oh shiiii...\n\nThose were meant to be my last words. Would have been except for one teeny tiny little thing; death wanted to hear something else.\n\nOver and over the truck screaming out of the side street plastering my brains over the passenger side window.\n\nI was mildly confused to put it lightly, this wasn't either hell or heaven though it was an interesting experience to repeat a few times. I was stuck in a groundhog day-esque time freeze where I was able to count the number of bugs on the truck's windshield before inevitably dying.\n\nEventually I got bored of being roadkill on an hourly basis and decided to give death what he wanted.\n\nI'm sorry OK? I'm sorry I slept with your wife! Can we just move on and leave it behind us?" ]	4
Edit: it's awesome to see the reaction to this is pretty positive! I'm currently on the road but I'm anxious to get back and read through all these.	[WP] The government signs into law and begins enforcing "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas".	[ "The long desert highway leading up to the bright light city used to be filled with celebratory grunts of \"Wooo Vegas!\" and other such thought provoking statements. Fueled by an endless flood of estrogen, testosterone, drugs, alcohol and money. But things were starting to change for the city and the new economic realities were starting to show and as people found how the city had changed that flood became a trickle and would soon dry up just like the desert surrounding it.\n\nOne of those last trickles came in the form of a black Cadillac with four men in their early thirties passing a bottle of Jack between each other laughing at stories of their great adventures to this mecca from years ago.\n\nBeing the driver and the only one with any semblance of sobriety Hank was the first to notice something had changed as he looked onto the giant screen in front of Mandalay Bay advertising their upcoming acts \"The Wiggles\" \"Yo Gabba Gabba! Live!\" \"Shining time station reuninion tour with special guest, one night only, Ringo Starr\". Even stranger The Luxor was advertising \"World's Largest Ballpit!\" \n\nThat got the attention of Jeff in the back seat pressing his face against the glass \"Holy shit! We gotta go, I haven't played in a ball pit for years!\"\n\n\"Oh Fuck yeah! I'm so getting a blowjob in that thing. She probably won't even need to hold her breath.\" replied Mike.\n\n\"Dude, that's way too many balls in her face. Be a gentleman and keep it to two.\" Laughed Brad.\n\nHank interuppted \"Guys there's something really weird going on. First New York New York gives us our rooms for 50 bucks a night. Mandalay had a bunch of kiddie acts and now a ball pit? I'm not sure what to think.\"\n\nThere was a pause as they all looked up at the facade of The excalibur to see a giant mouse and the words \"Chuck E Cheese\"\n\nBrad blinked and said \"Yeah dude. Something's fucked up for sure.\"\n\nThey walked into the hotel lobby and were immidiately greeted with \"Good evening gentleman. How can I help you?\"\n\n\"Uhh yeah. I reserved to rooms fo\"\n\n\"Hank Buchanan?\" the clerk interupted.\n\n\"Yeah. Wait. How did you know who I was?\"\n\n\"Nothing strange. We're not stalking you or anything. You're just the only person reserved to check in today.\"\n\n\"Seriously? I'm the only one checking in? You don't find that strange? And while we're at it. What's with all the kiddie stuff? This town is kind of giving me the creeps.\"\n\n\"Oh you don't know? Well it's quiet simple really. Let me explain. I'm sure you remember the what happens in Vegas law passing a few years back. Well after that a few people figured they could use it to dump unwanted children on the city and more and more people followed suit. We were wondering what to do with all these kids when one of the casino owners figured out we could sue for child support. Even further the casinos found a loophole where they could sue for custody and then go after both of the parents for child support. After that the business model changed. Now we cater to a different crowd and have every kind of activity a parent could want for their weekend visitations.\"\n\n\"So there's no more gambling or strippers?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but no.\"\n\n\"I guess we don't really need the rooms. I can still pay for them I guess.\"\n\n\"Wait one moment sir. Your name was Hank Buchanon. Is your legal name Henry?\"\n\n\"Uhh yeah.\"\n\n\"You might want to keep the rooms. We can go ahead and push your visitation up, but before you go we're going to need you to catch up with a few years of back child support.\"", "\"So,\" the doctor in green scrubs asked as he pulled on gloves, \"What do we have here?\"\n\nI was strapped in the chair, a mask placed over my mouth. I struggled helplessly against the binds that held me. Like a bad horror film, the lights flickered above us. That can't be good for visibility, I thought in woozy panic, as the doctor checked a few scalpels on a tray.\n\nAn uniformed official stood off to the side, a tablet illuminating his clean shaven face. He spoke quickly, like a man who had a wife and pot roast waiting for him at home. \"Jonas Shanks acquired '1' o-n-e sexually transmitted disease. In accordance to the Law 2.A.1098203981345, or commonly known as the \"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas\" law, all instances of STDs must be eliminated before allowed to leave our fine city.\" He grinned at me as he handed the tablet over to the doctor, who gave the briefest of scribbles. \n\n\"Tough luck, kid!\" He tipped his hat and strode out, eager for some mashed potatoes.\n\nI tried to talk, explain it was all mistake. The whore said she was clean. She even had paperwork. And how can they tell I had a STD? I just fucked her last night, for God's sake! I was supposed to leave an hour ago, returning to school after our Spring Break. School starts tomorrow! I strained against the chair.\n\nWith an inquisitive finger the doctor lifted the edge of my hospital gown. \"Sheesh. Really? Sorry, sport. There isn't much I can do about this.\" He glanced up at another scrubbed man by my head. \"Start the anesthesia. We are going to have to go all out with this one.\"\n\nThe doctor shrugged apologetically at my panicked face. \"Well, You have the herp-a-derp. You really should have paid more money for a whore.\"\n\nThe world was starting to go dark as the doctor picked up a scalpel. \"And well, since we don't have any cure... well, no worries. We are good at this.\" I heard the anesthesiologist laugh behind me.\n\n\"Yeah, no worries! Just a snip snip snip, and boom! Your -ahem- lil' man will stay here, keeping your secret nice and safe in Las Vegas! Neat, huh?\"\n\nI tried to scream, but instead, I fell into darkness.", "A perimeter was set along the outskirts of the city with police and military checkpoints. It was easier to smuggle a kilogram of cocaine downtown than a camera or a dictaphone. Citizens of Vegas were allowed cell phones, but only those that were purposely reduced to primitive pieces of plastic having the capabilities of a Soviet radio. This new legislature created much controversy initially, forcing casino owners to delete their CCTV content every 24 hours, greatly lowering their security. Subsequently the massive casino lobby retaliated and forced even law enforcement to completely clear their surveillance databases. Vegas became the most free zone within the entire western hemisphere. Only here big brother was blind. This, naturally, created a backlash. Vegas began attracting even more sleazy creatures of the night, conducting all sorts of unsavory exploits. Crime rates skyrocketed as criminals began understanding that any video footage or their deeds would disappear before even the swiftest trial. Robbing supermarkets became a hobby. Everyone started buying even more guns to protect themselves leading to even more carnage. But nobody outside of Vegas would ever hear about that either as journalists were banned from entering the municipality. A huge black market arose within the city aimed at finding disposable cameras, polaroids or other means of recording. Guantanamo was suddenly closed down... Moved over into the city where the government was sure that its deeds would be hushed. A huge financial district grew out in the middle of the desert as Wall Street slowly moved into the jurisdiction, under secrecy. This, and much more happened within this city in the last five years. What happens in Vegas, now truly stays in Vegas - the last hub of privacy in the western world.", "\"There was never a man, like my Johnny...\" \n\nThe same tired lines drifted across the wastes once again. I had been running around the Mojave for some time now, but I recently felt confident that I had accumulated enough syringes and ammunition to traverse the rough terrain to the largest refuge of scum, lowlifes, and degenerates in NCR territory. New Vegas, I couldn't wait to splash my caps in the casinos. \n\nNew Vegas has their own rules, one is an excessive entry fee. After taking care of something for some local greasers, I earned a ticket into the city. \n\nAs I approach the gate the robot that usually threatens me with deadly force seemed quite pleased to let me in. The time has finally come for me to see if this town can handle another lone wanderer. \n\n\"I've got Spurs that jingle-jangle-jingle...\"", "It’s been tough living here. They said that it was a “Haven of Life and Excitement.” Now it feels like a trash can that the government throws its mistakes in. In the year 2023, the government signed a law saying that “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Being the naïve people we were, everyone migrated to the fun capital of the country. With no rules or laws restricting the area, it became a city of “anything goes” type of deal. People started becoming more selfish, murder and crimes sprees started happing all over. Psychopaths would go for a weekend killing spree and then return to their normal, white-collared jobs and family. It wasn’t found out until the year 2025 that a virus has broken out in the city. People couldn’t leave because of “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” So they were kept their in the now quarantined a city. From it the distance, it only looks like a speck beneath the desert sun. But as you lurk closer and closer to it, you see something that looks like it belongs in a zombie apocalypse movie. Prison walls surround the area with heavy lookout post that shoot anyone that manages to sneak by. People still come here but only in biohazard suits. You would think that they would avoid the place, but nope. Like moths to a light, they flood the place, judging it with those eyes of theirs. The prime example of what animal’s humanity would become if the laws of society were taken of their shoulders. It’s no longer Las Vegas, but living hell on earth. “Welcome to Hell.”", "VEGAS 22\n\n“Alright bitches, this is Melanie’s bachelorette and we are all going HARDCORE. No sleeping, no Penn Jillette… just dance floors and pouring champagne in each other’s mouths and making out with Britney back-up dancers. You got that Ashley?” The plane had started its downward descent, but Cara was turned around, her knees in her seat, facing the two rows of penis-necklace bedecked bridesmaids. \n\nAshley opened her mouth and held up her finger like she was about to say that maybe Cara should turn around, maybe she was going to get them in trouble. But Cara shot her that look Ashley had seen so many times before. That look that told her “you are being one up-tight housemaid 50’s mom bitch right now, so just sit on it, okay?” \n\n“Ashley can be cool,” Ashley thought to herself. “Ashley is with her friends, Ashley is chill as fuck, Ashley is here to party.”\n\nBridget pushed a flask in to her hands and Ashley swallowed a bolt of purse-warm key lime pie vodka. “Ashley’s chill as fuck. Ashley is here to party!” she said aloud and the ladies cheered.\n\nMelanie was laughing and reaching back to squeeze Ashley’s arm, to high-five her, to let Ashley know that she knew when things were on point, that this was her weekend and nothing was going to fuck it up. Ashley smiled as hard as she could until the attention was off her.\n\nOver the PA the flight attendant roared, “all passengers MUST be FULLY seated with seat-belts SECURE!” Cara threw her flick fingers in the air, but turned around and sat down anyway.\n\nThe bridal party didn’t stop laughing until they were on the ground. Shoving back and forth in the aisles, pulling down their bags, pinching and giggling and passing the flask, offering it to squares in suits and old ladies with red visors alike, they were ready.\n\nStriding in to the terminal, imagining themselves in slow-motion, the rows of shops falling down to worship at their feet, dudes in Mass U hoodies peeking over their neon sunglasses and tugging at their crotches, women with lines at their mouth corners weeping at the sight of their shorts, new toenail glitter blinding TSA bots, while miles away bartenders rocked gallon cocktails shakers of lemon gingerini and every bouncer greased their red velvet metal latches for easy entry, the women of Melanie’s Bachelorette Party ’22 had arrived in Las Vegas.\n\nAhead was the terminal end. A TSA checkpoint and then the glistening automatic doors opening right out on to a strip, The Strip, Las Vegas itself blowing gusts of sultry desert air their way as they passed the sign: “What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas!” Ashley looked over her shoulder. “What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas!” the sign said. She groaned and rubbed her forehead. The TSA agent pulled away the wand and the headset and gave her a smile, “Okay, you’re all set!” Ashley took some teetering steps. Hoo boy, was she hung over.\n\n“Miss? Don’t forget your bags!” The agent, crisp in her wrinkle-free blue uniform, pressed the suitcase handle into her hands. “You better get to your gate!”\n\nAshley walked toward her gate, smacking her chapped lips against one another, pulling her hair in greasy strands away from her eyes, and pausing every so often to let her stomach stop rolling. She hoped Melanie had a good time. Maybe they had decided to stay another day? Ashley wasn’t sure, she just knew she had a flight to catch. \n\nCollapsing into her seat, Ashley felt like she had probably had a great time. Definitely, she thought. Definitely, probably had a great time. If she ever came back she’d know for sure. She could pick up all those old things that happened, those things left in Vegas. At least for the duration of her visit. She smiled. The memories would be here. They’d stay and wait for her, in Vegas.\n", "Random excerpts from the website Reddit regarding the \"What happens in Vegas\" law.\n\n\nMay 1\n\n\n3674 points:\n\n\n>Wake up sheeple! This is not about Vegas or our protection. This is about the government curtailing our freedom of speech. \n\n\n\nMay 2\n\n\n1874 points:\n\n\n>This law is not the right way to solve the problem of ALCOHOL + STUPID.\n\n\n\nMay 3\n\n\n1856 points:\n\n\n>Are you nuts? How can you be for this law. Have you even read Section X where they have the right to seize any electronic devices that may contain possible Vegas related media!!!\n\n\n\nMay 4:\n\n\nAdviceAnimals post 5407 points:\n\n>\"Going to Vegas and all Im taking is....\"\n\n\n\nMay 5\n\n\n3021 points:\n\n\n>The Vegas law IS NOT all bad. Sure it has some bad parts, but it also provides a valuable protection to many vulnerable young people. The Guvment isn't all bad Reddit. \n\n>GET A GRIP!\n\n\nMay 6\n\n\n184 points:\n\n\n>Thank you. I think Reddit has massively over-reacted to this situation. There was a nice bestof post yesterday that gave a more nuanced view of the debate.\n\n\nMay 7\n\n\n9543 points:\n\n\n>They're stopping the Jennifer Lawrence nude leaks from Vegas\n\n\n10,045 points:\n\n\n>>WE RIOT!!!!!!\n\n\n\n.\n\n\nAnd they did.", "\"Hold up\" the TSA guard put up a hand \"alright, step through\". I walked up to the security scanner, watched my keys and wallet disappear into the scanning machine and prepared to walk through. I hate airports, especially when they're packed - everyone seemed to be trying to get out of Vegas.\n\n\"Hey, hold on a second\" the guard said again. I stopped, turned, saw him walking towards me: \"what's that on your arm?\" he pointed at the bandages on my arm, the bandages I was sure I had covered. \"N-nothing\" I stuttered. \n\n\"Take 'em off\"\n\nI did, slowly. The fresh tattoo I'd had inked on in a moment of drunken foolishness the night before, the words \"Mom\" in a heart, were revealed to the line of people standing awkwardly, waiting to get on to the plane. \n\n\"I.. I was drunk! I didn-\"\n\n\"You know the rules\" the guard said, wearily. \"Scalpel!\"", "“So, how are you and Ada doing? I heard you guys went to Las Vegas Comic Con last weekend.”\n\nHerman nervously furrowed his brow as he ran a hand through his wild red hair. “Yeah, and I wish I could tell you, cuz, but you know...”\n\n“What?” Nori cocked an eyebrow. “C'mon, Herman, you can tell me anything. What was it like? Felicia Day announced on her twitter that she was going, but then her account got blacked out when she tried to upload pictures. Did you get to see her?”\n\n“Like I said, I can't tell you. Believe me, I want to. But thanks to that stupid law, if I tell, I'll get slapped with a five thousand dollar fine and a six month stint in prison.”\n\n“So you can't tell me anything?”\n\nHerman shook his head. Nori sighed. She should have known. Ever since the “What Happens in Vegas” bill was passed, it was as if her cousin's life was suddenly kept in the dark. It just wasn't about Comic Con. The first time Herman called her up after the bill was passed, to tell her about the Pen and Teller show he took his father-in-law to for his birthday, the NSA stepped in and issued him a warning. The law didn't just affect the tourists, it also affected those who called Vegas “home”. \n\n“I'm so sorry, Nori. But I'm already on my third strike. If I tell you, I'll get the fine and jail. And I can't afford it.”\n\n“You know, you guys ought to consider moving.”", "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. An anthem of fun for generations past. A curse for generations to come. On the surface, Vegas had not changed much since the new law had passed. Tourists still came for the gambling, the drinking, the partying. But now, impulse marriages were only valid in Vegas. Even pregnancies stayed in Vegas.\n\nI was one of those pregnancies. My mother and father had been asked at customs if they had wanted an abortion. My parents, being religious, had chosen no abortion. Hence, as they went back to their merry lives I was stuck in Vegas with no one but myself. It was hard at first-- still is. But I found out that I'm not the only one. There are millions of us, hiding in the shadows. Millions of unwanted left behind because millions of careless couples didn't use a condom. To them, the law is a blessing. To us, it is a curse. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...\n\nEdit: /s/A/An, added a missing comma.", "\"Wow, I can't believe this is all it took,\" Netanyahu said. Abbas patted him on the back, agreeing. Who would of thought the solution to Israel and Palestine would be just one week in Vegas? \"I'm really happy we got threw this\", Abbas said as he sipped his cranberry juice & seltzer. Netanyahu looked at Abbas,\"It certainly was a pleas---\" BOOM! Two police gun shots fired, hitting both men. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. ", "The enormous steel doors of the greying geodisic dome begin to slide open. An anxious hush befalls crowd huddled together in the scorching desert – they've been waiting for hours.\n\nOne way in, one way out.\n\nAs the doors reach their final resting place with a thud, the siren blares its warning call. The crowd inches forward slowly, looking for movement from within. From where they stand, they can make out only the glow of the garish neon lights, set against the deep, black, and perpetual night. And then they come. From within. Their running silhouettes, and shrill cries startle the crowd, who move backwards as one; draw a sharp, short breath as one; quiver as one.\n\nThe shrill cries of the oncoming mob are matched only by those in the crowd brave enough to call out the names of their loved ones. Names are yelled – hurled as curses, and as pleas at the rapidly approaching mob. Soon, the shouting is deafening, terrifying as the mob and crowd come close enough to strike. \n\nBut the cries of the mob are not cries of hate or malice, they are cries of triumph. They are cries of elation. \n\n\"Holy shit, what a weekend!\"\n\n\"Bro! We'll have this forever! Forever, bro!”\n\nTheir joy and excitement are met with tears of relief as they find those waiting for them in the crowd. Soon, the mob and the crowd are as one, peaceful, even jovial. But as the last of the depraved party-goers finds its way to the huddled masses, a woman scans the faces of the returning, before whispering into her hands.\n\n\"David? Where are you, David?\"\n\nShe turns to four men, all dressed in (what used to be) white blazers. 'DEPRAVED DAVE'S BIG 3-0' read their shirts. \n\n\"Carl? Steven? Where's David? Terry!?! Where the fuck is my David!?!\" She screams, tears forming in her eyes. \n\nHeads bow. Feet shuffle. The air is thick with fearful tension as Ronny, David’s once handsome, bespectacled best friend places his hands on her shoulders. \n\n“He’s gone, Kathleen.” he says.\n\n“What do you mean gone!?! What happened to him!?!” she rages.\n\nSuddenly, from atop the dome, a blinding spotlight falls on the pair. It holds there, waiting, hoping for a chance to show the crowd what it’s capable of. \n\n“Kathleen…” whispers Ronny, “I’m sorry. We just – “\n\nA blast. Ronny and Kathleen are liquefied instantly. The entire crowd is covered in a fine mist. Where the pair once stood, two small, smoking craters have been etched into the sand. Silence. As the crowd slowly starts to disperse, the three remaining White Blazer Brigade members stare at the blackened smears where their friends once stood. They stand, incredulous, for a long while – a silent, stupefied vigil for the newly departed. Their silence is finally broken by Terry, the balding, pudgy accountant, whose surprisingly deep, baritone voice announces:\n\n“But still. What a great goddamn weekend.”\n\n“Oh fuck yeah.” they all agree, as they walk towards the parking lot, and back to reality. ", "Troy stopped just short of the barricade. The blue and yellow lights of the border police lit up the entrance to the subway. A large sign above the entrance flashed 'You are now entering New New Vegas'. Troy licked his lips. It was one thing to get into New New Vegas, and it was an entirely different thing to get out. \n\nThe armored police stopped a group of Humans and began to scan them. A brief moment later and they were waved through. Troy slipped through the barricade and walked for the entrance. Somebody pulled on his sleeve and Troy looked back to see a beggar. He was hunched over and he was missing a leg. The beggar shook his head. \n\n\"Don't be goin' in there, lad. You don' want ta know what it's like in hell.\" \n\nTroy patted the man on the shoulder. \"I'm okay, buddy. It's not my first trip.\" \n\nThe beggar recoiled at his touch. \"Hands off! Yer dirty! Yer contaminated, yer stained!\" \n\nAn officer shoved past a trio of Venetians and stepped in front of me. He pushed the beggar back, which caused him to lose his balance and fall. The officer held up a baton that had seemingly magically appeared. \"Get back, Wilson. Let the man make his own decision.\" \n\nWilson hissed and began to crawl backward. He pointed a dirty finger at the officer. \"You will all pay for what yer doin' in there! They're comin' back, they're comin' back to take their city!\" The officer followed him back to the barricade and Troy continued on his way. \n\nThe truth was that he'd never actually been in New New Vegas before. The beggar's prophecy unnerved him, but he held his head high and approached the subway entrance. \n\nThe group of armored officers stepped forward and Troy complied with their directions. Head up, eyes closed, hands kept open, mouth open. After the scan and search, one of the officer's patted Troy on the shoulder. \"You are entering New New Vegas with one shirt, one pant, two socks, two shoes each with shoe-laces, one pocket-knife, all limbs and digits, and a full set of teeth. You must check in with Vegas border police before exiting to ensure you have nothing more or less on your exit out. Good luck in there, kid.\" \n\nTroy began the descent.\n\nThe ground was clean and the marbled stairs were shining. He got halfway down and stopped at a large sign. It read 'New New Vegas welcomes you! \"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!\" Failure to comply will result in termination.' A thick, yellow line ran horizontally along the floor to the walls, then up the walls to the ceiling, and across the ceiling, creating a complete square. Beyond the yellow line, the shining marbled stairs were cracked and covered in dirt and vines. The walls were coated in a black substance that seemed to shift ever so slowly. \n\nTroy cast one more glance back. One of the officers was staring into the subway. He turned his back. Troy stepped over the line. \n\nOne hour later, Troy had traversed the dark subway tunnels until finally he emerged onto the platform for the subway. It was dark, illuminated only by one solitary light that hung above the tracks. The hour-long trek had accustomed Troy to the darkness, and he looked around, his eyes searching for signs of life. Somebody was slumped against the farthest pillar to the right. A group of humanoids were standing tightly together, back-to-back in a circle. Their eyes glinted in the dim light. He saw several others, but nobody else. He found a secluded spot and sat down, darkness enveloping him as he sat still. \n\nThe murmur of conversation filled the dead silence, and Troy let his mind wander. He thought briefly of the beggar, Wilson. Troy had heard rumors of what happened inside New New Vegas. Some thought it was a torture camp, where people were imprisoned and tortured. It didn't make sense, because Troy knew people who had gone on multiple visits. Others thought it was not unlike paradise. You could do anything and be anybody you like. Some speculated that it was simply as Vegas always was: a city of sin and pleasure and loss and pain all rolled into one. Whatever it was, those who had been couldn't talk about it. They would simply shake their head and say \"you gotta check it out for yourself. Sorry.\"\n\nThe rattle and dull roar of a train brought Troy back to reality and he stood up, heart pumping. He cleared his throat. \"Anybody ever been here before?\" \n\nThe sound of the rattling train grew louder. A couple of seconds later, a loud voice rose above the train. \"No.\" \n\nTroy shoved his hands into his pockets and waited. ", "It was work. The man told me to push, so I did, but as I did, I screamed. Screaming made it only slightly more bareable. Running out of breath, I stopped just momentarily, before wanting to try again. I didn't feel movement from my efforts, but I knew there had to be some, because the man just stared and reassured me. Sweat was pouring down my face from hours of difficult labor, and I was hurting more than I ever had in my entire life. \n\n\nChris stood next to me, urging me on since this was one task that he couldn't help me with like he had so many others. I hated his sweat-free brow right then. It was his fault I was here. If it wasn't for his actions many months ago, I wouldn't be pushing until every inch of my body felt like it was being pushed beyond all possible limits. He was smiling at me, the bastard. I thought about punching him in his joyful smile, and that helped me push harder.\n\n\nFinally I felt it move and almost fall away. Chris moved to get a better look, and the man spoke words to him while I almost passed out from a mix of exhaustion and pain. I was done. They gave me the fruit of my labor and the man walked out the room. I knew where he was going, and I began to cry. Mine and Chris's honeymoon had been nine months ago in Las Vegas, and what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. The woman from whichever act had bid the highest, Circus Circus from the looks of her, came into the room and took my newborn son away from me.\n\nedit for some spelling and to also note that this is my first prompt, please be gentle :)", "The roadtrip was her idea, to try and rekindle the fire in our relationship. Don't judge. These days, you're lucky to get a refrigerator to last 10 years, let alone a marriage. I had been suggesting some kinky things ever since sex became an annual holiday between Valentine's day and Tax season, but she wasn't comfortable doing them. Then finally last week, she said it would improve the marriage if we went to Vegas, and she \"watched.\"\n\nLet me tell you. . . Since the law passed, Vegas finally lives up to its moniker of \"Sin City.\" So the rumors go, at least. Everyone \"hears stories,\" but no one admits to anything for fear of 5-to-10. But the stories, the stories. . . Anything you want and everything you didn't know you wanted, with the only limitation being your pocketbook. It's a free market economy for your every desire.\n\nOur troubles aside, yeah, I love my wife. I held the wheel and put my free arm around her shoulder as Vegas came into view, and she was tense. I told her, \"Honey, you're the best.\" She smiled and looked at me, with those same shy eyes I fell in love with. I didn't notice earlier, but she opened the goodie bag. She was playing with the handcuffs like a sexual Rubik's cube. Maybe she would do more than watch after all.\n\nShe leaned her head on my shoulder and asked, \"Are you ready?\"\n\n\"I am. Are you?\"\n\n\"No turning back now.\"\n\nWe passed the Nevada shaped \"Now entering Las Vegas\" sign, and in one motion, she snapped one cuff on my hand and the other to the steering wheel.\n\n\"Both hands on the wheel, fucker.\"\n\n\"What are you doing?!\" I was still thinking she was getting frisky when she steered the car to the side, threw it into park and pulled the key from the ignition. Our insurance won't like that. I looked to the highway and the cars looked back, slowing down but none stopping.\n\n\"Til death do us part.\" She got out of the car and in the side mirror I saw her open the gas door and stuff in a shirt from my suitcase.\n\n\"Honey, can we talk?\" \n\n\"You can talk all you want. In fact, here's your phone. Don't say I never did anything for you.\" She pulled a matchbook from her pocket.\n\n\"What makes you think you'll get away with this many witnesses?!\"\n\n\"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.\"\n\nAnyway, sorry to blow up your voicemail. Take anything of mine that you want. Tell my family I love them. Burial or cremation. . . it looks like I don't have a choice.", "\"Good morning, Benjamin.\"\n\n\"Morning, Daddy.\"\n\n\"Whatcha got for breakfast there, son?\"\n\n\"Some eggs...\"\n\n\"Yeah? Some eggs and what?\"\n\n\"Eggs an' toast....\"\n\n\"Yum! That sounds delicious.\"\n\n It wasn't. He sat there, pushing it all around with his fork. But he would never say such a thing. He was incredibly courteous, just like his mother.\n\nHis mother...\n\n------------------------\n\nThe fumes of champagne were cloaked by the sinfully sweet icing- she would have scoured to the ends of Earth to get that icing, if she'd had to. Vitality and cheers mingled in the brisk evening air.... I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Even her second cousins swooped in. All the way from fucking New Zealand, Christ. But they definitely got their money's worth; she was incomprehensibly beautiful on that day. Our day.\n\nThe celebration was all good and fun for the guests. Of course, to her, it was something out of dream. But she knew that I didn't care much for formal social gatherings, which was why, by the time we had returned our last exchange of farewells, we were already packed and ready for Vegas -- the honeymoon mecca for couples like us. \n\nI can't remember much from the trip. They stole that from me. All I know is that Benjamin was conceived then. \n\n-------\n\"Hey, Daddy...\"\n\n\"Hey, Son.\"\n\n\"Where's Mommy?\"\n\n\"I... I told you, Son. She got a little lost... when she was looking for you.\"\n\n\n\"I remember... Is she still lost?\" \n\n\"No, Son. She's just....\"\n\nThe connection dropped. \n\n\n\nI sat there for a good 10 minutes, hoping he would come back to me. He didn't. He never does. They only give me 60 seconds, once a week. Just enough to know he's still alive. ", "I've read the history books of course. Everyone has to take at least a rudimentary history course in school and there's usually a small section about the early United States. I even saw a museum exhibit once that had pictures of Old Las Vegas. Signs lit up, casinos in full swing, people dressed in their finest smiling and laughing with one another. It's hard to realize that at one point Las Vegas was somewhere people wanted to go. \n\nI even learned that \"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas\" was something people said with a wink and a laugh. Now it's just a murmur of fear. Everyone knows at least one person who has gone to Vegas. No one knows anyone who's returned. Visitors are not allowed. They have told us it's for the patients own good and loved ones can only lead them further away from their healing. The kindest thing we can do for those who are taken to Vegas is to forget them.\n\nOf course, the government has told us it's for our own good. They need one place to bring the troublemakers, the murderers, the potential terrorists. In order to achieve the peace and tranquility we have now there has to be some way to corral those who would instigate chaos. We've all been told that it's not a prison. The people taken there are treated fairly, given the mental help they need to become good citizens again. That once someone is taken there and treated they don't want to leave. They stay to help the incoming troublemakers. It's a remarkable system and we should be proud our government instituted it. They've shown us pictures of what the old prisons were like and promised this is a more humane solution.\n\nFrom a young age all the adults drill into the children's minds not to be afraid of Vegas. All you have to do is behave and you won't ever need to fear going there. Just do your homework on time, listen to your parents, finish your education, accept and do well in the job chosen for you, marry the partner you're provided and raise the children given to you. As long as you don't step outside the life you're assigned, you will never need to know the terrors of being ripped from your home at night by the Peace Keepers. \n\nThey call the men in blue \"Peace Keepers\". They're the ones who run Vegas and are in charge of rounding up those who stray too far from their path. They are a constant fixture in every community but never really part of it. You can see them everywhere but if you try to strike up a conversation they end it quickly with a polite but firm \"I am watching\". They are also the ones in charge of enforcing the rehabilitation in Vegas.\n\nI try my best to stay on the right path. Sometimes I can't help my thoughts though. I'll be at my office working as an accountant when I start to daydream about what life as a doctor would have been like. Or my husband I and will be having dinner with our friends and I'll blush when I realize I was staring too long at the muscular arm's of my friend's husband. One day I even realized that I was sad to be a mother so soon. It would have been nice to have a few years to myself. These are dangerous thoughts and I need to work on not letting them creep in. Even though the Peace Keepers promise Vegas is good for us and that it can help people I still know that no one has ever come back to verify that. It's scary to think of everything the government could be doing with their \"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas\" laws. But idle thoughts like that serve no purpose in our society and I must continue to remind myself of that. ", "Simon was halfway through a load of dishes when the knock came. His daughter Madeline glanced up at him with a cock-eyed grin on her face and bolted for the front door. She loved visitors at her age and everyone who came past the threshold was immediately a potential friend. He chased after her, dripping water from his hands, as the knock came a second time. This one was urgent; demanding of immediate attention. \n\n\"Maddy, don't you dare...\" He said, a little too late as the child flipped the lock and pulled the door open. \n\nTwo men stood behind the storm door, both with stoic expressions stitched on their faces and neither looked to be selling cookies or bibles. The older man pulled the storm door open and stepped inside before Simon could shoo Madeline away. \n\n\"Can I help you?\" Simon pushed forward, his gut telling him something was wrong. \n\n\"Are you Simon Winfred?\" The younger man asked. He glanced at the paperwork he'd been holding in his hands as if to check a name. \n\n\"I'm Simon Brown. No one lives here by Winfred. Can I help you?\" He asked again glancing back at where his daughter played by a stack of toys. She smiled up at him when she noticed him looking and returned to the horse with the tattered mane. \n\n\"May we step inside?\" The older man said, flashing a badge. \n\n\"It's important.\" The second man said attempting a disarming smile. \n\n\"Please.\" Simon ushered both inside. Seeing the badge helped his nerves, but did nothing for the knot in his gut. \n\nHe sat the two men on the sofa across from him, offering them something to drink which they both politely declined. Only then did he sit, somewhat tenuously, at the edge of the sofa while frantically texting his wife to come home. \n\n\"I'm Mr. Wilson and my partner is Mr. Moore. We're sorry to have to bother you at home, but we're trying to track down someone. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?\" Mr. Wilson asked. \n\n\"Of course. Anything to help, but what does this have to do with me?\" Simon asked. \n\n\"We'll get to that.\" Wilson said, flipping open a manila binder. \"Now, do you know anyone by the name of Darrel Winfred?\" \n\nSimon shook his head. \n\n\"How about Margaret Camp?\" \n\n\"She's my mother.\" Simon said. \"Is she ok?\"\n\nMr. Wilson nodded and turned to his partner. A look passed between the two and Mr. Moore stood up and left the room. \n\n\"She's fine.\" Wilson said. \"What do you know about your father, Simon?\"\n\n\"Dad? He died about seven years ago, why?\"\n\nMr. Wilson again referred to the manila folder. \"Not according to this. It says here that you were conceived by one Margaret Camp and Darrel Winfred about thirty odd years ago. Do you have any siblings, Mr. Winfred?\" \n\n\"Stop calling me that and no, I don't. My father was Daniel Camp and he died seven years ago. My mother never would've cheated on him. She loved him and still does. I'm sorry I can't help you, but you've obviously made a mistake...\"\n\n\"We don't make mistakes, Mr. Winfred.\" Wilson lost his smile. \"Are you aware of the Vegas act?\"\n\n\"Yes, but...\"\n\n\"Then you understand the situation we've been put in. You see, we have records that you, Simon Winfred, were conceived in the MGM Grand Casino by one Margaret Camp and Darrel Winfred. Whatever skeleton's she's been keeping in the closet are between you and her. For now, all you need to know is that you, Mr. Winfred, now fall under the Vegas Act. We're going to need you to pack a bag and come with us.\" Wilson smiled. \n\n\"You can't do this!\" Simon screamed. \n\nHe stood up only to find a pair of strong hands gripping him by the arms. The hands forced him to the ground and out of the corner of his eyes he could see another man scooping up his daughter. \n\n\"Leave her alone! You can't do this!\" Simon screamed again, clawing against the ground. He felt something sharp stick into his thigh and the room began to spin. \n\nMr. Wilson leaned in, close enough that he could smell the scent of peppermint on his breath. \"What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas Mr. Winfred.\"\n", "I grinned as my squadron walked along the Strip.\n\nLet's see how well they can enforce this law now., I thought.\n\nWe were armed to the teeth with weapons, grenades, ammunition, you name it. Everyone around us gave us a wide berth and a questioning stare. \n\nMy men and I swung up our M4s and launched a few frags. One hit a car which then wasn't. Another blew off the glass of Coach's store. The last hit a pedestrian. \n\nSoon we were firing at anyone and anything, hoping to cause as much destruction as possible. It did not take long for a chopper to hover above us. A well-placed FRAG-12 round blew off the rotors and it spiralled to its fiery demise.\n\nMy second squadron buzzed overhead and rained hell over Las Vegas.\n\n\"Oi, Charlie. Radio Nellis. Get every plane in the air. Let's bring this place down.\"\n\nI wanted to see if we could pull off the taking of Las Vegas. I had a few people in Nellis AFB who didn't like Vegas too much. Put fuel and a match together and you have a fire. \n\nSmoke and fire could be seen in the distance. It only took two hours for the whole damn place to fall. The LVMPD were almost destroyed - HQ was burning down, SWAT was extinguished, and they were limited to ground officers only. \n\n~TWO WEEKS LATER~\n\n\"In accordance with Chapter Four, Section C, Subsection I, Paragraph Two of the United States Code, I now hold control over all of Las Vegas. Any military personnel not from Nellis AFB cannot operate in this area due to the aforementioned law. My taking over of this area is justified, again referring to the aforementioned law. I now proclaim Las Vegas a separate entity from the United States.\"\n\nI created a government from nothing, imposing taxes on people entering Las Vegas and basically getting rich from tourists. The hotels and all were required to give 10% of their profits to us, and such we were getting richer every day. True, I hated Vegas, but when I'm getting rich from it, it isn't too bad.", "\"What the fuck do you mean i cant bring my wife home?\"\n\n\"Sorry sir, those are the rules.\"\n\n\"What rules?\"\n\n\"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas\"\n\n\"The fuck are you talking about? Those aren't rules, its just a saying\"\n\n\"Not anymore. That us now a law and if you want your wife you have to stay in Vegas.\"\n\n\"If we want to get drunk and end up getring married, then goddammit let my wife come home with me.\"\n\n\"Sir,sir. She's gone.\"\n\n\"Oh, my god thank you. I thought i was going to be fucked. Chappels should not be anywhere near The Strip.\"\n\n\"Relax. The government knows this stuff happens, thats why this law was put into place. Your welcome.\"", " “The last bastion of freedom”, what a crock. An immense conglomeration of steel and concrete surrounding a beacon of blinding light stood alone in the desert sand. We’de been travelling for weeks trying to reach it, now that it was within reach I felt an uneasy chill crawl up my spine. “It’s there Christian, we can make it tonight!” My brother was eager, nieve. Ever since the uprising any kind of hope was something. “Tomorrow” I said, “we’ll make camp here for the night.” \n\n When the shit finally hit the fan martial law had been in full effect. The government had locked down all vice, and enforced rule of law with an iron fist backed by a militarized police force. Money, power, isolation, and twenty feet of reinforced concrete defenses allowed Las Vegas to be spared. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”, if you could make it there. The highest ranking political officials could come and go as they pleased, the city-state’s independence hung on a little loose diplomacy. For us stiffs it was a one way trip. \n\n The morning was cool and dry, but you could feel the heat building in the sand. I turned to my brother, “This is it John, we can still turn back.” “To what?” he replied, “That shithole complex, where we can barely afford to eat? Our 18 hour shifts at the mill? No fucking way, lets go.” I shuffled my feet in the sand, put my head down, and started walking. When we reached the gate there was a long line outside. The shells of people who were something before it all fell apart were standing in a row like barn animals waiting for inspection. We all had one thing in common, desperation. \n\n They let in groups forty at a time. The guards were all wearing full riot gear and carried assault rifles. “Step forward on to the platform!”, one of them yelled. We all crammed onto a structure squared off with red paint and then it began to rise. When we reached the holding chamber we were motioned out. John looked pale and his eyes were darting around nervously. “What do you think this is about Christian?”, he muttered. “Im not sure” I answered, “probably just a security check”. Two armed guards pulled us out one by one into a white walled room where a robotic arm scanned and probed for abnormalities. When it was my turn I looked at my brother for the last time, “I’ll see you on the other side bro.” He cracked a dull smile behind the obvious nausea. \n\n From the white room came a white cell. From the white cell came chrome chains. The city is something of such sheer magnitude and glory that it is barely comprehensible and it is all maintained by the largest slave army on the planet. The women go to the kitchens, if they are lucky, most end up in brothels. If you play your cards right you might end up a dealer, the highest aspiration of a chrome chain. I sweep the streets in a chain gang tied to a three ton wretch of a robot. The view ain’t bad if you get a chance to look up from the vomit and blood stained pavement. I haven't seen my brother since we arrived. Its been almost a year now. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”, I hope for the love of god it’s not true. \n\n edit for tense issues. " ]	21
The sentences can be in any format you choose. All up to you. go wild.	[FF] Create an antagonist, and make me hate that antagonist in 4 sentences or less.	[ "It had only taken three weeks for Sean Tesse to rob Albert Cross and let his secret slip, though his decision had been made hours before Albert had fallen asleep. Now Albert would have to explain himself to the police and it wasn't likely they would understand. Not yet. Not without the evidence he had stolen to protect Sean.", "The last few cookies at the Church bake sale was purchased by an elderly couple who reminded Sandy of two sweet love birds in the beginning of the animated movie \"Up\". A perfect movie she could let go to and watch on repeat, but what really got her riled up was the fact that the old man never had the guts to join his old lady in passing right then and there. The elderly couple walked into the entrance of the Church right as the service started. At least now Sandy could rewrite her version of her favorite film without contacting Pixar, especially with how much blood, sweat, and tears she put into those cookies. It could have possibly been just the poison though. ", "I cradled my unconscious, bleeding husband in my arms, praying for a miracle, when a gunshot split the air and a beautifully familiar face scattered the murderous crowd hellbent on our destruction.\n\nThomas had come to save us.\n\n\"Thomas, Thomas, thank god you're here,\" I almost sobbed in relief as my best friend and protector knelt beside me and my injured lover. \n\nMy elation turned to horror as Thomas smiled, raised his gun, and put a bullet through my husband's skull.", "Grand Prophet Michael could not understand the peoples’ aversion to him. Did they not see that he was here to save them, even from themselves? Sighing, he buries his disappointment and nods to his soldiers, which have their rifles pointing at a crowd of men, women, and children. “Open fire.”", "\"...so you really are just a two pump chump.\" \nMaxwell rolled off the club-girl like toppings off of a clumsily made [taco.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vQVLM7BUwQ) \"I could have done it in three,\" he said, [smacking his lips](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aeicjDR5sPE) with the voice of a [scaled fish writhing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V2StagKqy0M) in a bag of suction cups. \nAs she rolled away in disgust, he admired her shoulder blades, and nearly came again thinking of how her [lungs](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_eagle) would look flopping uselessly below them.", "My seething rage boiled over the duct-tape in my mouth tied so tightly it turned my forehead a bright red.\n\nMy screams were muffled and inaudible, yet I persisted with every breath I had.\n\nHe finally turned around, the smug little smile I'd had seen like the back of my hand had never looked so sinister.\n\n\"No one will ever believe you, not even your family; everything is over and the only one to blame is yourself.\"", "\"Karen...\"\n\nHis nasally voice smacked with all the sweet molasses of a worn out vinyl record playing through a downspout full of diarrhea. \n\nKaren gritted her teeth, smoothed back her bangs, and turned to face the bloated assistant manager with lips that reminded her of a prolapsed asshole. \n\n\"Bend over again, you know how much I enjoy peeking up your skirt.\" ", "\"Darling,\" she spoke down her nose to me as always, \"I told you thousand times if I told you the once, there are no pets allowed in this building.\"\n\n\"I know, Mrs Lloyd, I just had to look after my sister's dog for a week while she's in hospital. Where did you leave him?\"\n\n\"I didn't leave him anywhere, my boy; he was against the rules, so he went in the furnace, and you can thank me for not taking it any further.\"", "Nathan was finishing up his normal routine.\n\nHe looked down at the girl, no older than 19, trying to struggle for the last breath that will never come.\n\n\"Thanks, I really enjoyed myself\", he said, as he casually picked up the money he previously left on the table and gingerly walked out the door.\n\nWith a spring in his step, he knew that today was shaping up to be a good day." ]	9
	[WP] Aliens have begun to invade Earth, but they aren't at all as intelligent as they are chalked up to be.	[ "For what purpose were we designed? Clusters of cells congealing in a cocktail of chemicals. Those few cells, I know, could not realise they would become unsustainable. They would be the great reapers of this blasted rock, wielding a scythe of overly-comfortable living and increasing industrialisation. Were we made by sheer luck? Just the right chemicals to make just the right proteins. Or perhaps, the benevolent God, only attributed so by us, wanted a programmed extinction. Perhaps a smile etched his face, staring over the Earth before the Sun. From that clump of clay, the same figurine he had breathed life into, did he realise he had made a creature that would sterilise the planet? Maybe it is just the natural order of things, all life in the universe merely rises and falls, the maxim of ever-constant change dictates all.\n\nThe Earth, in a pitiful state, crawled from one day to the next. Cities never stop growing. Outwards, upwards, even into the ground. People knew the final nail was being positioned, a great ivory coffin for our prideful selves. War was always inevitable. The ground ran dry, our environment wanted to give us no more. We were merely sustained by endless recycling, some of the more daring still plumbed the Earth for its treasures. To me, the great climactic end was in sight. The bang before the whimper. All too soon would it be, before the billions were reduced to ash. But, an intervention that many wished for, that many prayed for, that many weren't expecting, came.\nIt was heralded as an asteroid, larger than any before it to strike the Earth. It would dash the planet's face and take with it every living being. The universe, to our limited knowledge, would become lifeless. Panic did not ensue, people merely continued. Living on a day-by-day basis, their poverty didn't end with the Earth.\n\nOn the eve of its contact, the celestial body tore asunder. Its shining light did not inspire hope, but destruction. In the capital, a heart that beat slow and irregular, I saw the display. An angel, many called it, began to tear itself apart. Debris in the infinite vacuum dispersed, the soon-to-be-meteorite was barely a hundredth the size. When contact was made, the heavens were torn. The crack could drown out even the most powerful weapons of man. The hunk of rock, or so I believed it to be, struck the capital. Its western half had been vaporised, and in the coming hours great cylinders of alien design landed in all corners of the Earth. Never had disappointment felt the same as relief.\n\nDamages to the mega-cities were great, but the capital was on its knees. Those few responsible for leadership were gone, destroyed utterly in the cataclysm. Their illegitimate rule, though oppressive, kept the flame going. In light of a world where the people had true power, I could see nothing more than extinction. It wasn't until a week later I learnt of the cylinders, and indeed of what had struck my home. They, those who dabbled with the unknown, said the constructs were enormous hydroponic chambers. Great tubes filled with immortal plants, almost indestructible. Whatever the asteroid was, it contained life, it contained intelligence, and it had spared the struggling old man. Whoever they were, they decided to scuttle their ship, to jettison all they could as to not obliterate what they deemed worthy. They left behind alien life that was without thought or conscience.\n\nI can barely remember how long it took. A day. Maybe a week. Not long. The vividly coloured leaves, the fluorescent stalks, the flowers with patterning akin to circuitry spread quickly. Their roots burrowed into concrete and steel. Whole cities were overrun by plants. It wasn't so bad, life continued as normal. Day-by-day. Then miasmas rose above the skylines, clouds of hundreds, thousands, millions of trillions of spores and were released onto the wind. They choked anything caught in them. Cities were reduced to bodies of men, women and children all covered in the strange flowering plant. That is all I can say of 'first contact'.", "The first unusual thing about the day was the smoke, a light fog with a burning smell. My curiosity defeated my laziness and I went outside, where I saw desperate people running and screaming, sirens, ambulances, police and fire trucks. I began to sweat and I felt the adrenaline. People that lived in New York know this feeling. ''Did we get attacked again?'' I thought. The police instructed us to go back. I returned home with a sick feeling in my stomach, and turned on the t.v.\n\nBREAKING NEWS: A U.F.O HAS CRASHED UPSTATE NEW YORK\n\nThe unidentified object does not seem to be from earth\n\nNo human casualties\n\nRemains found on board of the ship\n\nRemains do NOT seems to be from human origin\n\n2.5 billion in damages\n\nPublic outraged\n\nRiots in New York\n\nSpace ship seemed to have crashed as soon as it passed our ozone layers\n\nScientists speculate the aliens did not foresee gravity\n\nObama stated there is no further security risk and advices people to go back to their normal routine\n", "\"General, the feed is up. Colonel James is live from Nevada.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Private.\"\n\nIt was 02:04 in Washington DC, and despite being roused from sleep only twenty minutes ago, General Henley was as wide and alert as could be. \nWhat was happening in Nevada had been a long time coming. NASA had been tracking the capsule's trajectory for 19 months now, and there was no doubt in anyone's - anyone who was in the know - mind that intelligent life forms were inside. It was being steered, and strange radio signals had been detected coming from its coordinates. \nIt had been mostly gibberish, so far as any human could understand, but they had heard… laughter. Laughter, and a few select English words. So far, they had heard things like wet, shake, slimy, and, the most unsettling, destroy.\n\nHenley had been contacted as soon as that final word had come through. \n\nNow it was time. Finally, it was time to learn whether this first of alien encounters was to be the beginning of interstellar peace, or war. \n\nHe was a soldier, and it was his job to prepare for the latter.\n\n\"James, talk to me.\"\n\n\"Good morning, General. I'll skip today's niceties. They are extremely hostile.\"\n\n\"Hostile!? Goddam it, James talk to me. Casualties? Damage Report! Have you initiated DEFCON?\" \n\n\"There is no need for DEPCON, sir. I think we'll be okay. One casualty, non-critical.\"\n\nSomething was wrong. James was a professional, like himself. Why the casual style? Could it be..?\n\nHenley let himself appear bewildered, and took the opportunity to blink, in Morse: \"Compulsion?\"\n\nIn reply, James laughed. \"No, no, nothing like that, General. I'm - ha, ha, ha, ha!\" He started laughing, as if someone had started to tickle him.\n\nLosing patience, Henley boomed into the telecom speaker: \"Need I remind you of the officer's rank to whom you speak, James! I'll have you court-marshalled if you don't smarten the f-\"\n\n\"Sorry! Sorry, General. It's just, ha, ha!, it's just you won't believe this! Look, I have one of them right here. He's \"attacking\" me,\" James adjusted the camera on his end, angling it up.\n\nIf Henley had had a cigar in his mouth, it would have tumbled out. On top of Colonel James' head was a strange… furry… thing. It was growling and yelling in a squeaky, guttural voice. It seemed to be laughing, too. \nHeld high above its head was a…\n\n\"James, is that… is that thing sprinkling salt on you?\"\n\n\"Yes! Listen to him!\" James looked up at the strange creature dancing on his head, who was shaking out a very average-looking salt shaker with a warrior's zeal and triumph. James pointed at the camera, and said \"GENERAL,\" to the creature. \n\nIt stopped it's attack, looked into the camera and asked James, \"In charrrrge?!\" \n\nJames nodded. With a whoop, the furry thing shouldered its weapon and began to crawl down James' face. It missed it's footing at about his nose, and clung to the Colonel's nostrils as it kicked, searching for a foothold. James protruded his own lips, helping the creature out. \n\nIt reacted to the help: \"Ohhh! Thanku! Killeeoo Last, Slimy weak one!\" \n\nThe thing ran up the the camera, looking right into it. It reminded Henley of an Ewok from Star Wars. \n\n\"Ohhh! We cam for yooo, weak slime! More than haff water?? We will keel you DEDD! SALTY DRY YOO UPP, WEEK SLIMES!!!\" \nThey thing proceeded to whoop, dance and laugh in a strange dance. It gestured threateningly with its salt shaker into the camera at intervals, throughout. \n\n\"Okay buddy, I need to talk with the General again,\" Colonel James picked up his foe and set him down again upon his head. Henley faintly heard the warrior cry out: \"Tamed this TOOPID wet human! Hahaha! Slave of me!!\"\n\nHenley sat there watching the dancing creature for another few seconds before saying, \"James, that was the absolute darndest thing I have ever seen in my life. What the hell is going on over there?\"\n\n\"Apparently they learned that we are, as we are - let's give them some credit - composed of primarily water. They really ran with this, and concluded that they could salt us to death.\" The Colonel pursed his lips. \n\nHenley just nodded numbly, \"Wow.\" \n\n\"Yeah, it's not the most thorough analysis of an enemy's weakness. No need for DEFCON, I'd say.\"\n\n\"No, Colonel, no need at all. You said there was one casualty?\"\n\n\"One of our staff wears contact lenses, some salt got in there.\"\n\n\"Ouch.\"\n\n\"Yeah, he'll be fine, though.\"\n\nGeneral Henley pointed up at the growing pile of salt on James' head, \"Don't let him push you around, Colonel.\" \n\n\"Yessir, I don't know how much longer I can withstand this aSALT.\"\n\nThere was silence on the feed for a few seconds.\n\n\"That was terrible.\" " ]	3
	[WP] Every Tuesday an old, slightly crazed man runs into your shop and asks for the year, before walking out in disappointment. This has been going on for years, until yesterday.	[ "“Nick get over here and mop up the mess Mr. Jackson made in aisle 4.”\n\n“I don’t get it, he comes in here every single day for a gallon of milk, and today just decides to throw it on the ground. What does he need an entire gallon for every day, anyway? He has no wife, or kids, lives alone… What does he do, drink nothing but White Russians all day every day?”\n\n“I don’t know, nor do I care. He pays your paycheck by coming in here and doing that, so quit your griping and go grab the mop before the nutjob comes in here and slips. If he sues, it’ll be your ass that’s paying him, not mine.”\n\n“Alright, Joe, calm your tits…”\n\n“What did you say?!”\n\n“Nothing! Just trying to remember where I put the mop!”\n\nJoe went back to restocking the cereal aisle, just waiting. Aside from the old coots dropped milk, today was going just like any other day. Mark had come in first for his 12 pack and smokes, then Jane and Sandy their morning coffee, followed by Mr. Jackson in all his milky glory. Sure, the old guys addiction of the lactose persuasion was strange, but it had nothing on the crazy raver that comes in next.\n\nThe guy showed up at 9:43 AM every day. Every. Single. Day. Not a minute late, or a minute early too. No matter what, the hands on the clock always read 9:43. He’d come flying through the doors, run straight to the register, hair all catawampus with sweat rolling down his face. Sometimes his glasses would go sliding across the floor as he pushed through the door, I’d actually seen them go crunch underneath his shoes a few times. The guy was always dressed in a lab coat, with some kind of funky tie loosely wrapped reaching nearly his knees. The guy was a shining example of your storybook mad scientist.\n\nHe’d been coming by for close to 6 years now, and had not once bought anything. He’d just make this huge commotion, running in, making a mad dash for the register, where he would spit out the same question every day. \n\n“What year is it?!”\n\nJust like Robin Williams in Jumanji; replace the jungle leaves attire with a dirty stained lab coat and you’ve got this nutjob.\n\nJoe glanced at the clock to see if he should start moving towards the front of the store. The guy was mostly harmless, but it was best to get his little scene finished as quickly as possible. Weirdo’s tend to scare away customers.\n\nIt was now 9:44.\n\nNothing. Joe was a more than slightly perplexed. The guy was NEVER late. And with all of his typical commotion, the guy was hard to miss. No way he’d already come and gone, he’d never left before without asking his weird ass question.\n\n“Hey Nick, you see the Doctor yet?”\n\n“Is it that time already? Naw man, I haven’t seen him yet.”\n\n“Well I’ll be damned. He’s a no-show today. Never happened before.”\n\n“Maybe he did it finally, pulled a Doc Brown and vamoosed. He was always so disappointed whenever we’d answer him. It’d be a fitting end to find out the old coot actually pulled it off.”\n\n“Keep your daydreams to yourself, Nicky boy. Probably wound up getting committed or something. Quit your yammering and get that mess cleaned up before some sane person winds up slipping and cracking their head.”\n\n\"...fine, ya prick.\"\n\n\"What was that?\"\n\n\"Nothing!\"\n\n", "My father used to tell me stories about my great-grandfather opening this deli. 1926, he immigrated from Germany to open Eckheart's Deli. Since then it's become something of a fixture in the neighborhood, due in no small part to the generations of Huber's staffing it, a straight line from my great grandfather to me.\n\nWe make sandwiches, sell meat, butchery and coffee. We're not famous by any stretch, but we do have our regulars from around the neighborhood. Carol comes in for beef roast and pork tenderloin on wednesdays, usually about 2 pounds each, and a cup of coffee to drink while she tells anyone who will listen stories of her children. Jerry comes in around lunchtime once a week for a date with his wife, roast beef with mayo and a side of comments about his blood pressure. The oddest, though, is Ben. Ben's a good guy, always comes in on Tuesday and orders the house Reuben. Only thing we dont make ourselves for that, by the by, is the bread, and only because we got a deal with Tommy down the road. His bakery supplies all our breads, and you won't find better.\n\nAnyways. Ben comes in every teusday and, like clockwork, asks what year it is. I tell him, every Tuesday for all 23 years I worked here, I've told him. Every time, he just looks a bit down when I do, orders his reuben and a coffee and eats it while he writes in this notebook he carries around. Sometimes people try to chat with him, but it doesn't last. Usually after a few sentences he starts to get kinda distracted, starts writing in his notebook again pretty soon after. My wife says it's probably OCD, but she also thinks she has whatever the new disease the people on the news talk about, even if seven people in the world have the damn thing.\n\nYesterday Ben comes in, middle of August, and asks me what year it is, same as last week. I tell him, and he does a kind of double-take. I ask him, \"You gonna try somethin' new today, buddy?\" I tell him, our sausage rolls are the best in town, great graddad's recipe and all, and he sort of looks at me for a second, then just says \"Sure, and a coffee, please.\" I make his sandwich, he takes it and he sits down and just watches the door while he eats.\n\nHe's about halfway through his sausage roll when this lady walks through the door. Business type, wearing a pantsuit, has a leather purse, glasses, bun, the whole nine yards. She comes over and asks me for a roast turkey on rye, cheddar cheese and extra hot mustard, so I know she's got good taste. I get her sandwich ready, and when I finish, I see she's sitting with Ben. Just talking with him. I don't think I've ever seen Ben carry on a conversation past about five sentences. I give her the sandwich, and I see Ben's face, and I remember realizing that I'd never seen him smile before. After that, they stay for a good while. Three, four hours easy. I didn't really listen to anything they were saying, I don't eavesdrop, but after while, after Gary's wife Amelia (she doesn't like it when you call her Amy, something about one of her husband's exes) came to get some stew bones, I saw this lady holding Ben's hand, and he has the saddest smile I've ever seen. \n\nThis lady, she starts crying real quietly, and I hear her say something about not being there for him, and Ben just shakes his head. \"You're here now, I don't want to lose you again.\" he says. I tried to ignore 'em, but you know how it is. I wasn't gonna leave the counter, and I'll admit, I was curious. She says to him \"Ben, I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm not going to go back this time--\" and Ben just smiles and says to her \"I decided a long time ago.\" I notice his cheeks are damp too, and he's squeezing her hand. He says \"I want to go with you. I should have agreed when you asked me 30 years ago, but I...well, I didn't realize that I was in love. By the time I did, you'd already left, and I didn't know how to reach you and...I read up on what you are. I tried to find you, to get some kind of message to you, but it didn't go through. I was missing something, but I can't remember what, and ever since I've been waiting and trying to keep everything straight while I waited. I've never lost faith in you, though, I knew you'd come back, the books all said every thirty years, when Saturn is--\" She put a finger on his lips. She was smiling again, and she says \"You'll really come with me?\" Ben just nods. She stands up and says \"Then follow me, I'll take you home,\" and she starts walking out the door.\n\nBen scribbles something on a napkin before he gets up and he goes out after her. I watch them walk off to the right, and a few seconds after I lose sight of them, I see a flash of blue light. By the time I get out from behind the counter and out the door they're gone. Not in the alleyway, not in any of the stores nearby, just gone. I go back inside, over to their table and see that napkin Ben was scribbling on. He wrote 'Thanks for the sandwiches. Thanks for keeping my dates in line. -Ben'", "Clocks\n\nAround the corner from the old tailor, \nIn that walkway hung with vines, \nThere nestles a small store, and through that old door, \nYou'll find my clocks and I.\n\nNot many customers find me, \nBut my memory never goes amiss. \nI recall one old fellow, all greyed and mellowed, \nAnd his story goes like this:\n\nOn a distant autumn evening, \nJust before the close of day, \nHe burst in, eyes alight with panic and fright, \nFeathery hair all blown astray.\n\n\"What year is it?\" he pleaded; \nWordlessly I showed him the date. \nAnd as his happiness went, a voice rose in lament: \n\"It doesn't matter, I'm going to be late.\"\n\nThen he disappeared in the the blink of an eye, \nLike a blustery storm gone by. \n\"Tick tock\" went the clocks, as, frozen in shock, \nI stood there, my clocks and I.\n\nHe visited every week from then, \nAlways asking for the date. \nEventually I made my choice, and raised my voice: \n\"But for what is it that you're late?\"\n\n\"She's waiting for me,\" he whispered, \n\"She said she'd tell me why\" \nAnd then he was gone, like a half-finished yawn, \nLeaving my clocks and I.\n\nFor a long time I pondered who she was, \nAnd what she wanted to say, \nMaybe she was long gone, like smoke in the dawn, \nOr like a dream wandered astray.\n\nYet the world spins on, flying ever faster, \nAs does the future of all mankind. \nMaybe, though he tried, in the end he realized- \nHe just couldn't leave her behind.\n\nAnd now he's gone, but still my clocks tick on; \nStill the sun continues to shine. \nAnd in my restless slumber, sometimes I wonder, \nIf anybody remembers him,\n\nBut I.", "It's Tuesday. I'm craving nicotine. Usually I take a smoke after ''Doc'' comes in at 12:25 asking for the god damn year. It's 12:48 and he still hasn't shown up. Every day for almost 3 years this has happened, and the pathetic thing is, I still work here. I know he lives only 2 houses down the street from the store. 'Should I visit him?' I thought. 'Nah, I'll only embarrass myself visiting a crazy old man'.\n\nIt's Tuesday. It has been 2 weeks since I last saw ''Doc''. I decided to quit my job 4 days ago, I can't work in retail my entire life, I think I have a little more potential than that, trying to find a job, but no luck. Get a degree, kids.\n\nIt's Tuesday. I'm sweating and nervous, I look like a fucking idiot standing here. 'One more drag and I'll knock' I told myself, finally knowing what going on with this old clown. \n\nknock\n\nNothing...\n\nknock\n\nI try to open the door handle just in case, and to my complete lack of surprise, it's closed. It's 19:30, maybe he is just asleep, or maybe he is asking what year it is around town, since it's Tuesday.\n\nIt's Wednesday. I smile as I walk up the last steps of ''Docs'' apartment building because I see his door is open. As I come closer and closer, I see there is nothing inside, nothing, no chairs, no tables, no power outlets. The whole room is white and shiny, unreal shiny, it's not even possible for it to be so shiny, I can even see some sort of reflection of me in the walls. Now I have to go in, I don't care, I must see it. So shiny, I just see shiny, SHINY, SHINY.\n\nBright light wakes me up, it takes me around 30 seconds to be able to see a little, and the only thing I see is white shiny walls. Is this the future? What years is it? I run to the closest store and ask what year it is.\n\n" ]	4
"Oh god, I'm going to miss my flight, aren't I?"	[WP] "I love flying. Boarding tickets make the best bookmarks. Then again, I always seem to lose my bookmarks..."	[ "It was the first day at the airport for Shawn.\nTogether with Ms Moore, he was checking tickets.\nAs he thought the last passenger had boarded, an old man slowly approached him.\n\n\"Oh god, I'm going to miss my flight, aren't I?\"\n\n\"No Sir, you are just in time. Can I see your ticket please?\"\n\nThe old man looked confused and began fumbling in his pockets.\nShawn nervously checked the clock.\nThe man should hurry.\nThe flight was getting late.\n\n\"I love flying. Boarding tickets make the best bookmarks. Then again, I always seem to lose my bookmarks...\", the old man stammered.\n\nShawn took the book from the old man's hand and skimmed through the pages.\nNo ticket. No bookmark either.\n\n\"Sir, you do have a ticket, do you?\", Shawn asked.\n\nSuddenly, Ms Moore took the book and slipped a ticket in.\n\n\"Sir, here is your ticket. It was in the book. Seat 21A. Have a good flight!\", she complimented him into the plane.\n\nThe she turned around to Shawn and said, \"That was Mr. McTrough. He founded this airline 42 years ago. His daughter has taken over as his memory failed him. We have orders to let him fly wherever he wants.\"", "But then I realized that I still had the confirmation email, so I went onto my phone and pulled up the boarding pass.\n\n4:20.\n\nThe numbers gave me the shakes. Coincidental, that my flight took off at the same time my child died, 4:20pm on a Wednesday afternoon.\n\n4:20. \n\nI stared at the screen. April 20th, at 4:20pm. That's when it happened. When my life turned upside down so drastically - so fast, leading to me catching a plane to the oher side of the world. \n\n\"I have to get out of here,\" I thought, verbally. \n\nIt was 3:45. I assumed they would already be boarding the plane, but being a Zone 5, I wasn't worried. Security finished checking me and as I grabbed my stuff from the bin, there it was again. \n\n4:20.\n\nA reminder. I see my book, without the bookmark. The boarding pass. The one that said my flight takes off at 4:20.\n\nI started panicking, thinking I would never find the exact page I left off on in my book. Where could my boarding pass have gone.\n\nAll these thoughts, about my dead child, about my boarding pass, about life, and I haven't even gotten to my flight yet. \n\nThat's right, my flight. The flight to change everything. \n\nAfter my child passed away (was taken from me), I lost it. The town said I had to go. I was the weakest link. \"You messed up Albert,\" they would often remind me. \n\n\"Albert,\" I would exclaim, \"never messed up. Albert was never here.\"\n\nThey would stare at me, in disbelief. \"YOU'RE Albert!\" they would impatiently say to me. \"YOU were found with blood on your hands.\"\n\nThis was true, but it wasn't the blood of my kids. They didn't believe me though. How could I do something..so...compulsive? Ruin something so...delicate? The innocence portrayed through the bright smiles and bellows of laughter my children used to display. It melted me. And now here I am, exiled from my own home, from OUR home. Because \"Albert\" made a mistake. \n\nI walked up to the check in counter. \n\n\"Albert, checking in for the flight to Iceland\"\n\n\"Boarding pass please\"\n\n\"I've misplaced it, but here's the confirmation email. I have it on my phone\"\n\nI reached over to show her, but she had other plans. She stopped my arm mid-swing, \"Sorry, but I need an actual copy of your boarding pass. You'll have to get on upfront and catch the next flight.\"\n\nI couldn't handle it. I checked my watch:\n\n4:10. \n\n10 minutes. 10 minutes from the time that my kids were taken from me. But Albert didn't make a mistake, Albert wasn't there.\n\nI looked at the flight counter lady, \"I can't miss this flight. They'll get me. Please. Just let me on.\"\n\n\"No sir.\"\n\nIt was at this moment that I lost it. I went ballistic. All the anger, the confusion. My world had become a black hole void of any physical warmth or comfort. The alleyways of thought I would traverse each and every day, just to reach a viewpoint high enough to see some sanity. It was killing me. Albert never killed his kids. ALBERT NEVER KILLED HIS KIDS. \n\nBut then, why was there blood on your hands?\n\nIt wasn't my blood. \n\nIt wasn't mine. \n\nI smacked the flight counter lady and grabbed her by the hair. \n\n\"Let me on this flight!\" I exclaimed.\n\nShe stared at me, horrified. But, the fun was only just beginning. \n\nI ripped her uniform off and started slicing bible verses into her skin with my pocket razor. \"Agony,\" I said, \"your agony is the only thing that will get this flight to Iceland.\" \n\nI left her there. Scarred. Cut open. Miserable. Under her flight counter. As I walked through the empty lobby, making it onto the plane just in time for take off.\n\nI checked my watch: 4:20. \n\n4:20.\n\nI didn't take my kids away. \nI didn't hurt any flight counter ladies. \n\nAlbert was never here, he made no mistakes.\n\nNow, back to my book. My story.\n\nIf I can only ever find the page..." ]	2
	[WP]Most of Earth has fallen. 99.97% of Earths population is wiped out. The human race is making its last stand against unknown predators and you are part of the last military force tasked with protecting humanity.	[ "\"Well, we're screwed.\" \n\nMy CO doesn't like that. \n\n\"Damn it Bobby! You're meant to be the optimist!\" \n\nWait is the lieutenant crying? She never cries. Ok, excluding her dad's funeral. But for her time as my commanding officer she's never cracked. Scratch that, she just cracked. \n\n\"Boss, run the numbers. Realistically, we're screwed. Optimistically, Satan is holding poker night and is serving nachos.\" \n\nHow the hell are we to stand and face a faceless fore of destruction? \n\n<EXPOSITION! Nah not going to bother.>\n\n\"All right, I have A plan. Not a good one.\" \n\nAll eyes turn to me as I say the last thing anyone would want to hear. \n\n\"How big of a scar can we leave on the face of the ~~planet galaxy~~ Universe?\"", "You know, of all the places I ever thought I might die, I can't say Aberdare, Wales ever crossed my mind. Shit, until about 16 hours ago, I couldn't have even found this place on a map. I guess nobody else will ever be able to find it on a map, either. \n\nSomewhere behind me, I hear the thump thump thump of mortars firing. They haven't stopped, not for weeks. In the few minutes of sleep I've gotten since everything went to shit, I hear them. The thump of mortars, the distant thunder of howitzers, the whoop whoop whoop of helicopters trying to make a dent with rockets or guns or just carrying people away from them. \n\nIts quiet right now, or at least as quiet as it gets anymore, which amounts to only a few bursts from emplaced machine guns every minute. As I scrub my rifle's bolt carrier with a dirty, torn up child's sock I picked up somewhere outside Portsmouth, I try to pick out what's firing right now. Sounds like 7.62, which means a medium machine gun. M240, probably, or maybe one of the Norwegians' older M60s. Its hard to pick out who is shooting what these days, with half the world's surviving soldiers in a 10 mile defensive line. Brits, Turks, Jordanians, Israelis, Brazilians, other Americans. Pretty much anybody with a gun who could make the boat ride to Britain and its alleged 'safe zone.'\n\nI almost laugh. Almost. \n\nThe 'safe zone' was no more safe than New York had been, or Chicago, or St. Louis before that. As I thought back, to that first adrenaline fueled helicopter ride in the initial counter-attack, the tab on my arm feels heavy as lead. 'Rangers lead the Way! Hooah!' \n\nI shake my head and try to find a semi-clean patch of cloth to wipe away the carbon buildup. We sure as hell did lead the way, right into the slaughter pit. Not even a meat grinder, at least in a meat grinder something usable comes out the other side.To my knowledge there are no other Rangers left. Its a long front, though, I admit. There might be others, one or two who managed to survive till now like I have. The last one I saw was outside Cleveland, a poor motherfucker from 2nd Battalion who caught claw across the belly that had left most of his insides on the outsides. \n\nAfter the bloodbath at St. Louis, it had been one long retreat from the Mississippi to the Atlantic, then across the Atlantic as every nation on Earth gave up and ran for their lives.\n\nIt doesn't matter. None of it matters. No amount of ocean can stop them. Nothing can stop them. At best, you hurt them a little, but that just pisses them off. \n\nI hear the mortars thump thump thump, and the distant roar of a jet overhead, and feel the Earth tremble as somewhere another bomb or mortar or shell or rocket tries to keep them at bay, keep them back just a little while longer. \n\nI look around me and see men of a dozen different uniforms, all of them covered in grime and dirt and blood as they scrub and scrub their rifles. More than half of them I can't understand, but it doesn't really matter. There are no real commanders anymore, no sergeants to organize us or officers to give us orders. There are only the ones who still choose to fight. We know its hopeless, but there is no other choice. Die with your finger on a trigger or on a bible, it makes no difference in the end. The shadows will come, and we will die, and that will be the end. They will tear into the panicked, terrified masses a few short miles behind us in burning Cardiff, the last city on Earth. But we will fight.\n\nSomehow, we all know to stand up at the same time. No words are said, none are needed. The machine guns are picking up again, and the mortars are thump thump thumping.\n\nWe pick up our guns, the only clean things about us, and head towards the sound of the guns. Rifles shouldered, rounds chambered, safeties off, we walk.\n\nFor a single moment, I have a sense of clarity I haven't felt in weeks that punches through the omnipresent exhaustion. I look around at the shapeless mass of soldiers around me, and smile. I'm at the front, and I shall be the first of us to die.\n\nRangers lead the way." ]	2
	[WP] You bend over on a crowded street to tie your shoelace. Upon standing up, you realized that everybody is now gone.	[ "What had stunned me most was how quickly it happened. Not jarring enough to be instantaneous, but it must have been some swift yet ludicrous constant uniform progression of events because I was so taken aback that it took a moment to convince myself that it was true. I mean, I was just looking at the ground, and now this?\n\nThe holistic realization of the event was made up of ever-increasingly quick successive realizations, the first of which involved the sudden and unequivocal disappearance of everyone that had previously been walking around me on the busy sidewalk upon which I had convinced myself to stop and remedy a potentially hazardous situation involving two unbound laces on my Doc Martins. In other words, I stopped to tie my shoe.\n\nThe next in the chain of consecutive realizations was already queued up and awaiting my attention: the people hadn't disappeared at all. Audible waves of cars screeching as they cmme to a sudden stop in the intersection, shouts and screams of women and men, somewhat intelligible like, \"Look!\" and some, unable to finish their thought because their brain was unable to process what was happening, muttered: \"What the fuuu-\".\n\nA sinking feeling in my stomach, like the one you get when you ride the high speed elevator up to the hundredth floor, and the sudden falling away of the world around me were the final pieces of the puzzle that revealed to me what was currently transpiring. I forced my face back down toward my shoe to, where only milliseconds ago I had been looking; remember, what happened, and my realization of it were disjointed and independent. At least for a split moment. It was upon their convergence that I began to panic.\n\nPanic, you would probably agree, is not a sufficient enough word to use here. What's a phrase for a delirious hysteria where one is so profoundly disturbed that they are unable to act, and if they were able to act there is nothing they could do about it anyway? What was occurring was a phenomenon of sheer shitpansian surrealism.\n\nI, Mortimer Henrik Harbuckle III, windowed, part-time postal worker and avid - yet terrible - musician, being of apparent sound mind and body, have just done the impossible. Actually, something so preposterously impossible that it is also cliché.\n\nI have picked myself up by my bootstraps.\n\nMy hands instinctively held strong on the reins of my new brown leather chariot as the crowd shrank away and my backside gently brushed against the windows of the skyscrapers. Up I went, further and further into the deep blue Chicago sky.", "Nobody. There was nobody.\nIt had been a normal day in New York City, cars and pedestrians flowing the through the streets.\n\nBut now there was nothing. No cars, no people.\nThere was nothing\n\nI looked over in houses, stores, even other towns. \nThere was nothing\n\nI stole a car drove around the country until I came back to NY.\nI had looked everywhere for people, a single person.\nThere was nothing.\n\nI went to the top of the Empire State Building and thought.\nI came to a realization:\nThere was nothing.\n\nI went over the protective rails and put my toes on the edge.\nIt took a few seconds for me to reach the bottom.\nAnd then:\nThere was nothing.", "And... finished! I finalized my knot, curling the crisp corduroy laces with pleasure on such a beautiful day. There's a comfortable amount of people in the park today, and it's great to be able to see the sights of the city without the jungle of people to obscure my vision.\n\nAs I stand up, the wind bothers my hair and stings my eyes. I blink. I blink again. And again. And again. And again, with no resolve. The world was gone. I was blind.", "\"I swear to god, if this really is the rapture I'm going to be pissed\".\n\nThe irony didn't escape me. I didn't disbelieve nor believed (but really questioning it!) that a consciences omnipotent being could hear me but the absence of everyone around me proved to be one of a more pressing question on my mind.\n\nIt happened only moments ago. I should check the time!\n20:01:00 ...? Wait a sec, my watch isn't running.\nI stepping out of my apartment on a quick trek over to the convenience store for a convenient bar of vanilla ice cream. Even before opening the closest exit to my building I could hear the late night bustle to cheers, conversations, automobiles, and music of one of the worlds most populated metropolises. Opening the door I finally gave in to my dismay yet again and ventured a glance down upon my loose feeling shoe to be not at all surprised my shoe lace undone yet again. I bent down with the door ajar with the end of my untangled shoe. \n\nIt was just as I finished the knot that I moved up slightly and noticed immediately that I couldn't hear anything! \nAm I deaf!? No, I can myself make noises and echos...\nWhen I stood up and pushed the door open the noises echoed all around the dark empty neighborhood, one I have grown to know always has people coming and going about at all hours. A deaf silence, so alien and cold. Absolutely lonely and awe inspiring. Staring down at the streets of my home, equally cold as it's surrounding peers, I marveled at how far my words traveled. In an impulse of fear I closed the door as I stepped backed and was surprised!\n\nWith the click of the door the sound of the city arrived and filled what little left the broken vessel that once held my sanity could hold. Stumbling back I took a moment to ponder and tried the door again.\nWha-?\n\nCars passing by with crosswalk dotted with small groups of pedestrians amused with their own visions of paradise and futures. Every much like how I remember everyone this time of the a day. I checked my watch again.\n20:01:45... 46... 47. Did my watch freeze then? When I opened the door?\n\nBacking away from the ill fated door I walked over to it's adjacent exit and tested it (it worked like a would hope) before continuing on my adventure. Too many possibilities raced through my mind as I pondered what I had experienced but one thought did amusingly cropped up.\nIf what I had witnessed was some gateway to another place then what would of happened if I didn't notices it till after I closed the door behind me. Maybe the fact that I had to tie my loose shoe lace just saved me a split second mistake from stepping out into somewhere else. \n\nI suppose I should be grateful for my laces, even if the other one now is coming undone.", "The laces on Lin’s boots always came untied during her commute, a thirty minute subway ride then five blocks to an office building with big mirrored windows that distorted the people going by into a stream of grey and black. The air above ground was sharp and cold, but the air below ground had been hot and stuffy with the breath and sweat of a thousand other people in a rush, and she still felt it in her nose and on her skin as she pulled the laces tight. \n\nShe was crouched down off to the side, under the big window of HAL’S BREAKFAST – LUNCH. People sat at the bar, their feet perched on the supports of the chair legs: high heels, wing tips, chewed up sneakers, all level with her head. People walked by. They clicked and scuffed along the sidewalk, winding around each other, brushing shoulders. Some of them had their heads down for their phones, some glanced to the left and right at things and people in the windows, a barking dog, a car horn blaring, a siren wailing, a woman wearing three coats shouting that this was the end and none of you will be saved. \n\nMost of them did what Lin did when she had a place to get to—they stared straight ahead. \n\nShe pulled the laces into a neat bow, wrapping them again into a double knot that would last her until the office. She hooked her finger into where the foot of her boot met the sole and pulled at where the glue was worn away and the fabric was becoming undone. She wanted to stand but she couldn’t. She wanted to crane her head up but it was as if a hand was pressed against the back of it and holding it down. Her right knee was cold and covered in grit. Her chest was tight, and she felt as if she were sinking deep into the ocean in a little metal submarine they used to capture pictures of blind fish. The submarine was in a documentary that she watched last night when the light outside was turning from black to grey. The submarine could only fit one person. \n\nHer ears popped and the noise, the tiny shriek of brakes, the dull murmur of one-sided words, the tinkling bicycle bells, the yammering of a jackhammer, all of it, was submerged. She lurched forward, nauseous and dizzy, and caught herself on the sidewalk. The concrete and its smooth spots of old gum and flattened cigarette butts blurred in and out of focus. The noise faded, receding into a tinny radio song she’d heard a thousand times before. She strained to hear it, she chased the last notes and their imagined ghosts.\n\nAll at once the pressure released her and Lin could move again. She pushed herself up. The sidewalk ahead was empty and the sidewalk behind was empty. The food in the window of HAL’S sat half-eaten on the trays. The cars had frozen in place without their drivers. Next to her a bicycle was standing upright and quivered in place. Buildings loomed above her, cold and silent, absent of the constant thrum of activity and electricity, and elevators cranking up and down. Steam drifted up from a nearby hot dog cart. A breeze that carried no sound or smell lifted her loose strands of hair. \n\nLin breathed. She was fine. \n", "For the past few weeks, I've had an issue with my shoelaces. They're too long. I'm a creature of habit, so anything as life-changing as buying new shoelaces or, God forbid, new shoes would be disastrous to me. In fact, when I bought these particular shoes with these particular laces it was only after realizing the pair I owned prior were literally falling apart beneath my feet. I still wear those shoes for house work. \n\nMy problem didn't typically bother me. I work IT so most of my day is spent on a computer, inside a computer, or on the phone. This means I don't move around often enough for my shoelaces to disrupt my day. That is, except for my morning and afternoon commute. I work at a small company that sells office supplies. It's a few blocks from my apartment so I decided when I accepted the job three years ago that I wouldn't bother buying a car (who really owns a car in New York anyway?). This means I walk to and from work. During these times, about 8 AM and 9 PM, my problem becomes an actual issue. Streets are crowded, people are rude, and I walk at a leisurely pace so I often have to stop and retie my shoelaces so as to avoid them being stepped on. \n\nNormally, I tie my shoelaces and move on until the next foul-smelling, angry New Yorker who \"hasn't had his sixth cup ah cahfee yet\" steps on them and rips my beautiful knot out of existence. Today, however, I only had to tie them once on my way to work.\n\nAs I bent down to tie my shoelaces, I noticed an intense quiet. At first, I assumed there was another accident so I continued tying my shoes with full intention of ignoring said traffic accident and continuing on my way as I would be late in just under five minutes. I stood, content with my lovingly made knot, and looked around only to find myself completely isolated. The streets I've always known as never-ending torrents of people and cars were completely silent and not a soul was around to share in this moment with me. My first thought was, \"Is this the rapture? Was my life so sinful that all of New York was saved but not me? But I gave a hobo my seat on the subway last week!\" I pulled out my phone to be greeted by a smiling young woman. The time was 8:13. I'd be late in only two minutes.\n\nThe silence was eerie as I walked to work. Kenneth, my perpetually late boss, wasn't answering. I called my apartment, nothing. By 8:14 I was terrified. \n\n", "7:29 am, I read, as I looked down at my watch, monogrammed with Alan in hold letters. Looking past it, I noticed that my shoe was untied. I stopped, and knelt down to untie it. Something felt off, I realized, as I finished tieing my shoe. I looked up and realized it was dead silent, and not a soul was tk be seen. I looked at my watch again. 730. I mean, yeah, its 730 am, but usually in the city you would expect at least a car or someone on the sidewalk. Perplexed, I kept walking to the office. Looking down alleys, sidestreets, and through the windows of buildings, there was still noone to be seen. Very odd, I thought, as I got more confused and slightly scared. I finally reached my office and walked in.\n\n\"Morning everyone\".\n\nNo response. \n\n\"GOOD MORNING EVERYONE\" I said, in a strained, slightly desperate voice. What the hell? What had I missed? Panicked thoughts raced through my brain as I tried to figure out what was wrong. I raced back to my apartment, and slammed the door, panting. After I had calmed down. I went back to bed. This must all be some crazy dream, I figured.\n\nI woke up a few hours later, and looked out my apartment window. Nothing. Not a car, not a pedestrian, biker, skateboarder, airplane, anything to indicate that humans were active in any way. I decided to go to my neighbors.\n\n\"Mr Adams, are you home?\"\n\nI only recieved silence, same with all of the other doors in my building. And the next one. Dejected and defeated. I plopped down onto my couch. Nobody was around... then again... nobody was around, I thought excitedly. I can do whatever I want. And there was one thing I had always wanted to do. I ran out and pulled the fire alarm, and of course noone came. Getting more excited, i ran back to the office and took a shit on Steve's desk. Fucking Steve.\n\n That night I had only myself to think about. I made myself a steak from the highest quality meat at O'Malloreys, sipped on the most expensive brandy from the cellar, and did the whole thing naked.\n\n\"This is the LIFE!\" I yelled. Who cared. Nobody was around. I looked at my watch. 730. I heard the sound of bus brakes, and I peered out the windows. Buses were lined up up and down the road, as far as I could see, and people were filing out. I saw my boss, and I grabbed some pants and ran outside. \n\n\"Where have you been!\" I yelled at him.\n\n\"Didn't you know? Its National No Alan Day!\"", "I was running late for work. \nSidewalks at around half past seven in the city are a place you do not want to be if you're in a hurry. Of course, I was in a hurry that morning.\nThere's almost no point in trying to avoid other walkers in such a densely packed mass. If you do move aside, you'll only get in someone else's way. \n\nI had a bagel in my mouth as I walked. The part in my mouth was soggy, but I didn't even have time to chew or and grab the bagel since I was still tucking in, buttoning my shirt, or some other stupid thing that I should have done twenty minute ago in my apartment.\n\nI felt like a mess. \n\nThe clouds were exceptionally dark that morning. I remember feeling surprised that it was not raining. But I was late, and did not think about it any more than that.\n\nI'm waiting at a crosswalk. I finally get a chance to eat my soggy bite of bagel. \nThe light turns green and we start walking. And by We, I mean everyone except me. Some jerk had stepped on a lace that I had forgotten to tie that morning. Despite the packed crowd, I fell straight down to the asphalt. My bagel went flying out of my hand, and I may have cursed or yelled, but no one heard. \n\nI felt people moving against me. It was like I was being pushed over.\nI got up into a quick crouching position and began to tie my damn shoe lace. People kept kicking my elbows as I worked and yelling above me because I was in their way, I guess. \n\nI even yelled up at them, \"Just relax for a sec! Freaking robots!\"\n\nMore yelling and screaming above me.\n\nFinally got my shoe tied. I saw my bagel lying on the other side of the road, like it had been kicked along. \n\nAnother hungry morning at…\n\nIt was weird that I could see my bagel. \n\nThen I looked up, and around. I stood up, turning around slowly. The sky was so dark. It was weird that I hadn't thought about that as much as I should have.\n\nEveryone around me was gone. But, the buildings were gone. At least, most of the buildings. The one next to me was still there, but only the first four feet of it. The rest was just… disappeared. Gone. Sliced out of time.\n\n\"Hey!\" \n\nI turned around. A short fellow was running towards me. He was about three and a half feet tall, wearing a baseball cap. His eyes were round as no doubt mine were.\n\n\"Did you see that?\"\n\n\"No, I… was tying my shoes.\"\n\n\"Man. I saw. I saw them come, and…\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"And man,\" tears began to well up in the short man's eyes, \"You're lucky. You're lucky you didn't see…\"\n\nI could now hear the cries of children, and barking dogs. \n", "Damn, I should have learned to double knot. My teachers and parents always tried to teach me but I just didn't think my shoe would really come untied. But it happened today. Should I just keep walking and see if I trip? Maybe that is what I'll do. I could probably walk another 3 blocks to home and just throw these shoes out instead of bending over to actually tie it. I have those velcro ones, and the sandals. I have plenty of shoes. These won't be missed in the slightest. But there were so many people, one of them was too close, he would step on my shoe lace and I'd trip. I would rather bend over and tie my shoe lace than trip. \n\nI bent over and grabbed the laces on my right shoe. I was going to try the double knot. It wasn't a big deal, everyone else can do it. I wrapped the laces around each other for the first knot, I started the second, but pain shot through my stomach. I screamed hunched over never having felt a pain shoot from my ass to my stomach like this. What just happened to me? Who cares, double knots are overrated anyway, they suck. \n\nI never even finished the second knot when I looked up and realized everyone was gone. But the pain remained. ", "Halloween. New Orleans. Jack stepped out of the strip club and onto Bourbon St. His prudish friends said they'd be in the bar across the street. He strolled through the mass of people: zombies, pirates, dolls, skeletons, slutty superheroes and even a fellow devil. He smiled at the she-devil, grabbed her hand, kissed it, and lost her in the crowd. \n\nHe stood at the center of the crowded street, taking in the sights and sounds. There was nothing like this back at his suburban Nebraska home. He closed his eyes a moment and inhaled the smells: alcohol, sweat, make-up, urine, perfume, leather, and something sickeningly sweet he couldn't place. \n\nHe continued across the street. A black woman with a python around her neck beckoned him. He leaned towards her. \n\n\"Your shoe is untied,\" she told him with a thick accent. \n\nHe looked down, indeed it was. He looked up to say thanks but the woman was gone. He stepped to the side of the street and bent over to tie his laces. He felt a wave of dizziness as he straightened back up. \n\nEveryone was gone. \n\nThe streets were completely empty. Jack spun around. There were no people, no litter, nothing. He sprinted to the bar where his friends said they'd be and ran inside. The lights were on, but it was empty and silent. Had someone slipped something in his drink? \n\nHe walked back outside. He ran up and down the street. As far as he could see, there was nothing. He must be going crazy. He walked back into the strip club. It was empty. He sat down in a chair and closed his eyes. This isn't real he repeated to himself and opened his eyes. Nothing. This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real. Still nothing. \n\nHe looked around the empty strip club. He found it odd that there was still something arousing about the place even with out topless girls in g-strings. It was probably the distinctive perfume that filled the air. Perfume. The smell...he still smelled things!\n\nHe ran back out into the street. The smells were there: something spicy, a man's cologne, cigarette smoke. He laid down in the middle of the street, closed his tearing eyes and took in the odors. Jack? He felt himself begin to sob uncontrollably. Jack? Then he heard something. Jack? Like a shout from a long tunnel. \n\n\"Jack!\" It was his friend Eddy, \"What the fuck are you doing?\"\n\nJack looked around, the streets were once again filled with Halloween revelers. \n\n\"You wouldn't believe me if I told you,\" Jack said, \"can you help me up?\"\n\nEddy extended his mummified hand and smiled, \"Jesus Jack, we can't take you anywhere!\"\n\n \n ", "It was just a typical Tuesday morning. I hate Tuesdays. You see, Mondays are bad, sure, but they are busy and time goes by fast when you’re busy. Tuesdays are just boring. The bulk of the work that piled up over the weekend has been taken care of and you settle into a snail’s pace of monotony that will continue for the next four long days so far from the weekend. And then, if you’re like me, you have public transportation to contend with. There must be thirty people waiting for the number six bus. No one looks at anyone, let alone talks to each other. I’m no different. I don’t know these people, and I don’t want to know them. I shake my head and look down at my feet to further avoid these people, these cattle. My shoe is untied. Yet another thing to be bitter about. I might need to talk to someone. I’m angry more and more every day. I bend down and begin tying my shoe. The person to my right steps off. \n\nThe bus must have arrived, I think, as this person must be moving towards the front of the line. And then my ears began ringing. I finish tying my shoe and stand up sticking my finger in my ear, trying to unring it. I turn to my right to move with the line and to board the bus, but there is no one in front of me. I look at the bus, but there is no bus. It hasn’t come yet. I turn to look at the line of people waiting for the bus but they are gone. I look around and see no one at all. There are cars on the road and the traffic lights are on, but there is not a soul in sight. I realize that my ears aren’t ringing; it’s the sudden lack of sound that has made my ears feel strange. I pulled my phone out of my breast pocket and read the date and time: October 20, 2014, 7:35am. I have a solid signal, but when I dial my office, the call never connects. I check the web, but web pages never load.\n\n…\n\nFor the first month, I reveled in the silence. I thrived in the lack of humanity. I had my own paradise of a world without the throngs of people I hated so much. Then I got lonely. I started to travel, to search for others. I must have visited a dozen cities, only to be greeted by the same sight: perfectly normal cities without a single person inhabiting them. Each city is bathed in the morning light of October 20th. I estimate that four months have passed and I haven’t seen a single person. My phone still reads October 20, 2014, 7:35am, and the battery never drains. Time has stopped and outside, it is perpetually morning, and I’m losing my mind. I can’t stand the loneliness anymore. I don’t even know what to do. I hate reading books, nothing is on TV and the internet never loads. Walking and exploring has lost its luster. I head back to the bus stop where this all started for me. I stand in the same spot I stood four months ago and just look around.\n\nThat’s when I finally saw someone. He was a perfectly ordinary man. He was dressed in a plain black suit and tie, a timeless picture of your average businessman. His features were non-descript and if you had asked me later to describe him, I could not. He was standing in the middle of the street looking right at me. I gaped at him stupidly. He pointed to my foot and spoke four simple words.\n\n“You shoe is untied,” he said.\n\nI glanced down. It was. The same shoe was untied just as it had been four months ago. Impulsively, I knelt down to tie it. After it was half tied, I glanced up to find the man missing, but everyone else had returned. I was back in the line with the throngs of people surrounding me and the beautiful noises of the living city filled my ears. Still bent over, my phone slipped out of my breast pocket and bounced into the street. It landed face up and I watched the time change from 7:35am to 7:36am. Without thinking, I stepped into the street to retrieve it when my bus pulled up to the bus top and hit me. The right headlight struck my left temple and I crumpled to the street where the front tire rolled up my body to my chest. I could feel the organs inside of me turning to pulp as I took my last breath. A crowd of people quickly formed around me. My last thought before I died was that I was glad there were people here with me, finally.\n" ]	11
	[WP] The narrator has a means to view the actions of the protagonist that is coming to kill him. He relates them to us but through his own filter of ridicule and condescension. Be snide, snarky, and full of ridicule.	[ "Smous, the hero of this pitiful novel, makes his way through the forest.\n\nWhat kind of name is that anyway? It sounds as if he was raised by drunkards who couldn’t spell their way out of a leather satchel. And what is with his sense of style? You mean to tell me that clothes made of flimsy leather protected him against all of those ogres and trolls? Please, don’t make me laugh. \n\nEven if he did manage to survive solely through the tropes of “close calls”, there is no way he will get to me. I am more powerful than he can ever imagine. I have narrated his story thus far and without me he is nothing – a blemish on the world under the sorry guise of a hero. \n\nOh, here he goes, taking on a group of giants that would crush any another teen fighter with limited fighting skills. That is believable, all right. And surprise, by the fate of the gods he wins by some inexplicable way.\n\nNow he is giving a lengthy monologue about how he will avenge his murdered family. Or was it his best friend? I haven’t the foggiest idea to be quite honest. I get bored with dull characters quite easily. \n\nWhile we’re on the topic of dull characters, what does that girl see in him anyway? I mean I understand every protagonist has a love interest these days but he is rather plain looking – scraggy hair that hasn’t been cut for an indeterminable amount of time and having a personality about as complex as a rock half-buried in mud. Imagine how bad he must smell after all this battling. It has been weeks and there has been no mention of him taking a shower once. Absolutely revolting, if I do say so myself.\n\nWell, he has made it out of the Forest of Death and is on the outskirts of my hideout. Didn’t see that one coming at all... He mumbles something about getting closer but I am still not fazed – I have seen pups with more bite then him. But at least he has made it this far, I suppose. His rock head may not be good for thinking but his tenacity is admirable nonetheless. Not that I wish I could be stupid and brash, mind you.\n\nAnd now he has made it through the secret entrance of the hideout. Seriously, it is made specifically to keep people like him out and he just happens to stumble across it? Surely the readers won’t point that out as an oversight. The hero that hasn’t gone to school a day in his life suddenly has the deductive skills of a topnotch constable. That makes perfect sense, Mr. Author.\n\nI can hear him just down the hallway as he draws clear but I have one last trick for him. The pounding of footsteps stop in front of the door, it is only a matter of seconds before he breaks it down. I find the button on my desk, a fine layer of dust collected on it, and press it.\n\nI look back to my screen and once again I find this buffoon of a hero back at his farm, shoveling hay without a care in the world. Little does he know that the evil king will wreak havoc on everything he loves for what feels like the millionth time now. Come to think of it, I think it was his family that was killed after all. I sigh, filling my mug with lukewarm coffee from the old machine on my desk. \n\nHere we go again. ", "Tired of my voice narrating her life, Genie plodded home down the sidewalk in the frumpiest murdering clothes she could apparently find on her budget. It seemed to be time for try number three on my life. I Since she thinks I'm a voice in her head, her suicide attempts were technically homicide but as such, every bit of violence directed at me resulted in more suffering for her. Both previous attempts to take her pigeon-toed steps to kill me each ended in a sweetly unique bit of failure. \n\nThe rookie try used the most inventive method ever dreamed up by a young woman, but the simplicity of using a sharp object to drain the life out of herself was utterly lost on our intellectual heroine. Down the alley, Genie, I whispered, but she'd already scared herself unconscious with the sight of her own blood despite its clearly insufficient quantity. It's not enough, Genie.\n\nHaving heard my critique of her dainty tactics, she took another shot at it. Since she was of legal age and no one had ever found out about the paper cut she gave herself in the bathtub, she got herself a gun. Wasting no time upon arriving home, she clumsily loaded her new toy, backwards at first but she figured that out all by herself. Forward facing bullets, safety off after fifteen minutes of reading the owner's manual, she was in business! Gun to her temple she screamed like a five-year-old before she heard a decisive BOOM...\nFollowed by a scrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEECH.... through her shattered eardrum as the stink of a burnt mess of skin and hair filled the room. The owner had sold her blanks of course, he needed money but could tell she was nuts with only a passing glance just like every guy on every date she got off Craigslist. Now she has to walk around with that romantic scar on half her face.\n\nWhat I couldn't figure out is why she kept trying, but I was chipper over what she had in store for today. I knew her plan and I knew she wouldn't stop even if I told it wouldn't work. Climbing out her second floor window, her bowed legs wobbled up equally crooked stairs on the fire escape as her frizzy hair began to stick to her broad shoulders after only two floors. If she didn't pass out from the rare bout of cardio, she meant to fling herself from the roof with hopes that, despite failing it in high school and again in college, she could not screw up physics and gravity.\n\nI must say I was a bit proud of her in this moment. She'd finally realized life was beyond her control and that relinquishing herself to the void was the only way to free herself from human error. And with the mixed emotions of hearing a voice she so desperately hated say it was proud of her only once, but still more times than her mother she—oh there she goes. \n\nThe adrenaline rush made the first half of the fall seem to take longer than the few seconds she expected. In fact, she was falling slower and slower with every passing window. Finally when she could make out the stains in the sidewalk from outside her bedroom window, she stopped falling completely and dangled helplessly in space... Still full of chemicals, furious with her powerlessness, she cursed me and begged through wet eyes for some semblance of reason. \n\nSuddenly it came to her. I turned the gaping, bone-deep wound in her forearm into a pathetic cry for help. The gun to her head wasn't loaded with blanks and I scraped her fears and memories off the wall by putting the blanks in the gun. Now, she knew it was I who suspended the laws of the universe to prevent the death she wished upon herself. Was I her protector for saving her life or her torturer for driving her to suicide? She doesn't know. I haven't told her, but as she gave up on searching for the answer, she remembered the sidewalk twenty feet below and it remembered her one second later. Genie broke both her legs and shattered her hips, but maybe she'll be a better failure from now on.", "He stepped out of the car, oh could you even call it a car? It was surprising that the rusty-shitbox still ran. He stepped into the rain, it drenched his hat and jacket and ran down his face, uggh! Oh fuck he's ugly! Not trying to be mean here but that dude is honestly disgusting!\n\nHe reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his Glock, still standing in the rain, what a dumbfuck. He pulled the magazine out and counted the rounds, slowly, like really slowly. Holy shit all the bullets are still there you retard! So slow.\n\nHe lifted the gun up to his face and examined it closely. He meant to use it, just kidding, this little bitch couldn't hurt a fly.\n\nHe approached the buildings back door and knocked it down with one kick, sent it flying off it's hinges. He better fucking pay for that, money's tight.\n\nHe walked down the hall and turned the corner. A single door lay before him. A single signed read narrator. He knew he was in the right place, yeah no shit he knew he looked this place up on Yahoo! before he came here, fucking Yahoo!\n\nHe ran to the door and pounded on it, \"I know you're in there!\" He shouted, his voice as ugly as his face.\n\nHe pulled the door open to find a... a... a brick wall! Yeah! The bricks flew out and crushed his puny ass!\n\nThe end bitches!", "There were still five more people to serve before her. I had items to scan, receipts to hand over and \"have a nice day\"s to administer. Impending murder is not to be sniffed at, but professionalism is paramount. She was going to have to wait her turn.\n\nFrom my seat I watched her stand there fidgeting with the bulge in her olive winter coat and scowling up and down the checkouts with characteristic lizard-eyed contempt. Her hair was in the usual disarray, her socks unmatched and in her hand she held a solitary baguette- a cover story- her excuse to be there.\n\nI scanned some yoghurts.\n\nShe'd told me many times that she was going to kill me, and of course I'd believed her, she had that look, you know? Today however, she was actually going to do it- that was quite clear. Was that an axe under her coat? Hardly inconspicuous. It was hard to tell really, too indistinct from that distance, and my eyes aren't the best- but I supposed that as she got closer I'd be able to get a better look. I had twelve more minutes until my break- where I could hide myself in the staff area and enjoy a coffee while I waited for her to bugger off.\n\nWhile the dot matrix printer buzzed out the receipt I craned my neck to get a better look. She was definitely up to something special today.\n\nIt occurred to me that I could call security on the buzzer. I could have her taken away- problem solved- at least until after work. But ultimately, it was only Tuesday, and if she didn't kill me then I still had to come in for Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. I decided to give it some thought, there was time yet.\n\n\"Have a nice day.\"" ]	4
	[WP] Confidence is quiet. Insecurities are loud.	[ "They held hands, stepping out onto the sunlit stage.\n\nHis mind was quiet and calm, everything inside of him was collected, bundled up in tightly secure silk strings. Her mind was a whirlwind, a collection of whirlpools battling against each, unable to soothe her burning anxiety which searing doubt into her heart. He looked to her, not wanting to say anything because to him, the moment was perfect as it was. When she looked to him, she opened her mouth, trying to find a way to explain how lost she felt.\n\nThe red curtain rose and their arms dropped to their sides as the endless audience remained silent and patient. She closed her mouth but found it impossible to swallow, impossible to breathe and impossible to quell the surges of fear that battered the mind, demanding to be let out. He looked ahead and gave the faceless crowd a smile while she tilted her head, more interested in her polished black shoes. They were so pretty, unlike her. As the music began to fill the room, the pair began to dance. His movements were free and fluid while her's were rigid, much like someone on autopilot. \n\nWhile the music was light and lively, the dancers were in different worlds, different states of mind. The girl felt nothing but fear and questioned her own steps while the boy gave into the will of the quick tempo, letting his body relax and have fun. When they locked eyes, the boy finally saw her fear. It screamed at him while his reassurance could only whisper to her. The two planets collided as the song began to end. A place to hide and a place to celebrate became one and the curtain fell, leaving both dancers lost in a world in between the excitement and worry.\n\nIt was a place neither was comfortable, a place where both failed to live.", "Taylor was the strangest man I ever met. He was tall and lanky, not a strong muscle on him. He tried his hardest to project this air of masculinity. I think it was because of his name. Taylor. Not the manliest name in the world, not the most effeminate either, his parents could have name him Sue. Maybe it was because he was as skinny as a twig and his name. His childhood was filled with troubles—fights; petty theft; quarrels with his mother, his father, his classmates. There was something about him that no teacher wanted to deal with, something aggressive that he emanated. His parents let him thrash and kick and scream, so long as he didn’t do any physical damage. \n\nTaylor went through high school like any normal teenager, but carried a big burden on his back, one that must be shared. He made it known that he was around. He pushed those who derided him out of the way. He fought tooth and nail against the world. But he was nothing more than average when it came to grades, height, and in the realm of physical appearance he wasn’t far off the mark. But there was something that boy felt could be better. He was normal, and he wanted to be great. \n\nTaylor’s brother Kevin was a small man. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He got good grades; he had a discreet confidence about his abilities. There was nothing that couldn’t be overcome with ingenuity and hard work. What he lacked in physical strength he made up for in creativeness. He wasn’t ever going to be a football star, a basketball wizard. He wasn’t going to be the next greatest musician. But he didn’t want to be, none of that bothered him. He grew up in the same house, wore the hand me downs, had the same mother and father, and received the same love. \n\nTaylor and Kevin were presented with the same world, presented with the same opportunities. Differences have to be allowed for brain chemistry, and that is where this all falls to pieces under careful examination. I knew both young men, I watched them grow up. I watched them discover the world, interpret it and reject it, rediscover it and finally accept it. I watched those two young men grow into manhood. They each had their strengths and they each had their faults. But I don’t think that we are predestined from birth. We are presented with a set of opportunities and choices. What we do with them is ours, although I wish we could pursue the things that we want and make us happy, that’s not the world we live in. I don’t know what makes someone great, whether it’s quiet confidence or loud projections of magnitude, but if there is one thing I have learned it’s that confidence is quiet and insecurities are loud.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Any feel-good story. Write me a story with a happy ending, that reaffirms my belief in the innate goodness of humanity, but without being blase, cliche or childish.	[ "The stones were immeasurably old, around eight times the height of a man and standing firmly, immovably in a circle of taller stones that looked worn and ancient like the faces of those who spent their lives gazing into them, wondering just what they meant, why they were here. Painstakingly chiselled into the outer ring were [triple spirals](http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3163/2975879562_d8bd61e82e.jpg), great maps of the stars and bizarre diagrams of concentric circles, the third one raised above the others. This wasn't the greatest wonder of the ancient stones however, even more unbelievable was the carefully calculated mathematical arrangement; at the dawn of Summer Solstice each year for a mere quarter of an hour a beam of light from the small red sun above will illuminate the centre stone and show a series of undecipherable lines:\n\nTHIS WORLD IS YOURS AND EVERYTHING IN IT\n\nWE WILL PROTECT YOU AND NURTURE YOU\n\nIN THE HEAVENS AS IT IS ON EARTH\n\nWE ARE YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS\n\n\nNobody knows what they mean or who carved them there. Perhaps an ancient race put them there as a monument to our life-giving star? Perhaps it's an old hoax? Maybe, just maybe it was put here by somebody who lived on a third circle from their star, a message to let us know they were here once upon a time. A local scientist has just invented a tool for making things look much closer, he says if you point it at the sky in line with the southernmost stone on the night of the solstice you can just about see something metal with fire streaming behind it but my village thinks he's a bit of a crackpot. I guess we'll never know. ", "Not actually a story I wrote so I don't know if it'll be removed, but I just wanted to share a story a friend just told that I think fits well here. Her great-grandmother passed away yesterday after 2 years of Alzheimer's, 1 year of cancer and 1 month of slowly passing, as in receiving pain medication as her organs stopped working. Yesterday, lots of people went to see her and her bp was going as low as 35. When he, at last, came in, her heart beat a little faster. He kissed her hand, told her he loved her, she sighed and passed. She could see it in his face how he was suffering less now that her suffering was over . Today, at her funeral, before the casket was closed, he went to kiss her goodbye and, with tears in his eyes, said: \"saudade sempre, tristeza nunca\". \"Saudade\" is a Portuguese word for the feeling of missing someone, so those last words basically mean \"always saudade, never sadness\". Her tale of that selfless love really moved me.", "Ping tap-tap Ping tap-tap\n\nThe sound reverberates in the confined corner, battering my eardrums with its harshness. It battles the heat of the fire for control of my body. Mankind was not meant to enjoy loud noises, high temperatures, or small, cramped spaces. But this space is my space. Here, I am the master of the elements.\n\nPing tap-tap Ping tap\n\nSmell of wood. Though long dead, the body of the great oak still cries in distress, releasing its scent as if it were still under the axe. Scent of coal. dragged out with great reluctance from under a mighty mountain. The smoke of both curls with a slow anger about my head, trying to scorch the pine timbers and thatch roof with the intensity of its scorn, stinging my eyes and throttling my breath. But this space is my space. Here, the oak and stone bend to my will.\n\nPing tap-tap Ping crunch.\n\nSteel slides through the coals. Hot and irate, glowing freshly red with the disturbance they seek to destroy the intruder. Iron and carbon, crystalline in structure, it does not mind. Like a sponge it absorbs the ill will of the mountain stone, until it too glows with passion. Grey. Red. Orange, just right. Siamese rod and plate slide gently from the coals, full of their anger yet never yielding to it. Some of that ire reaches out at me, anger from the metal adding to the anger from the flame as a double assault. But this space is my space. Here, all emotion is simply fuel for my expression.\n\nPing PING tap ping-PING\n\nSoft bronze, sharpened to a point, etches its design into the gently glowing plate, molding it from base metal, roughly formed, into something of note. It takes direction from the hammer, like a child and his father. It, too, felt the heat of the flame. It, too, was once drawn and shaped. And now it is a tool of use. It would be proud, but like myself, its emotion is fuel. I set it aside for the moment, and it is at rest. It makes its home here, and knows I am master. This space is my space. Here it is an instrument of my creation.\n\nTap-tap-tap PSHHHHH\n\nA touch of final shaping, and it is time for the metal to cool. Too much anger for too long is unhealthy, for man or for metal. Sound of water. Smell of steam. Dull red to cool grey in an instant, quenching the hot steel. Let it sit a moment. Let it rest. Let it anneal slightly, coming to equilibrium. Join me in gentle contemplation. Come with me to serenity. We will return to the world in a moment.\n\nIt is time. Tongs are no longer necessary. They join the steel and bronze hammers in their space on the wall. Rest, my friends, you have earned it. Hairs on my arm, slightly scorched from the forge, sigh in relief as the water slowly envelops them one at a time. There, at the bottom of the barrel, the fruit of the labor. Fingers hold, arm pulls, and it is cradled in the gently cupped palm of my calloused hand.\n\nA tiny rose blossom, wrought in unyielding iron. Under the petals, one letter on each, his name. On the stem, his motto, his request, and his guide for the others that will follow in our footsteps.\n\n\"All give some. Some give all.\"", "A stranger asked me to tell them- simply put, in layman's terms \"why is life is worth living?\"\n\nI thought for a while, in my self imposed exile. Another lonely night spent reminding myself to stay sober.\nFor just one more day.\n\nYou hear that a lot in those circles there \"24 hours at a time\" \na race against the clock- counting days spent sober\n\nWhy count at all.\n\nI walk outside, into the chilly autumn night. Alone again, this time cloaked in darkness, swallowed by silence. I stand drawing breath slowly, steadily.\n\nAfter my face and hands go numb, I venture back inside;\nI still need to think some more. I have not found the answer, what is the answer?\nIt occurs to me, the possibility of an existence purposeless and pure.\n\nWe are born into this world, no real requirements. The world will not end with your death, the stars will not rain down from the sky and the sky itself will not tumble earthwards to crash in a great spectacular flame- only your world will end.\n\nSo life is to learn, as it is to shape, as it is to define, to create and to grow.\nIn a spectacular and splendid pattern, that only you can ever fully know.\n\nSome talk of god, and I understand that on one level or another.\nBut the beauty of the concept is that God is that little voice, within us all, that wants something.\nAnything.\n\nThat we want to change the world as we found it- to leave something, as if to say \"I was here, I mattered!\"\n\nYet all that ever mattered, was the peace you found, or didn't, in your own little world and special time.\nFor you are a universe within yourself, and you are beautiful in your own way.\nEvery precipice, every rut, every mezzanine, every gutter, depression and mania, love and loss, they reflect each other. \nIn those spaces in between, there lies polarizing beauty. The steady constant ebb of desire, and it is in that desire, that there lies the secret of life.\n\nA flame without fuel, A world of its own.\nA miracle in of itself, existence is bliss.\nEverything is serenity.", "I wake up, walk outside, and smell the fresh, beautiful smell of a warm spring day. I go for my daily run and meet up with a friend of mine that I usually run with. We're having a great time, laughing and smelling the smells and seeing the sights and tasting the air. We split up and I head back home.\nMy master gives me a bone for keeping up with him today. He's amazing. I can sleep on him, play with him, run with him. He's given me everything. The food in the morning, the car rides to the scary guy who pokes me. And you know what, he is always there to hold me; always there while I am freaking out. He's always there when I am hungry or need to go outside. I love him. He throws me a ball or a stick and I go get it only to show him how happy I am to bring it back to him. He brings home the nicest people and I always see him laughing and having a good time. His people give me lots of love and call me cute names and give me all the attention I want. This can never get old. My master is amazing. My life is amazing; all because of him. ", "She died 3 years ago today. Her tombstone is always covered in a beautiful tapestry of colors from the fallen leaves this time of year, as fitting a memorial to her life as any, I suppose. The love of my life, she was, beautiful and kind and smart and funny and everything else you can love about a person. I just wish we could've married before her time came. Of course the other driver walked away with barely a scratch.\n\nA tear falls. Funny how I never notice them arriving. They're beautiful, really, little pieces of myself that lay as a tribute to what was and never shall be.\n\nIt's alright, though. She was here, and she gave my life meaning when I thought there was none to be had. She was the ray of light in my darkness, and she managed to end my night before she left. For that, I'll always love her.\n\n\"Come on, let's go. We'll freeze out here if we stay any longer.\"\n\nI nod, and we turn, walking back out of the cemetery hand in hand.\n\nThe leaves fall.", "I note, with slight surprise, that I'm nervous more than anything.\n\nThere are any number of emotions I thought might have taken the lead. Guilt, sorrow, possibly even anger, but nervousness is the only one that registers.\n\nI hadn't wanted to do it, but all the love in my heart couldn't feed her, and I knew that. I was nothing, just a stupid teen with too much drink, a family about to disown her and not enough luck. \n\nA lot of people like to talk to me about sorrow, about sacrifice and regret. People are always sacrificing it seems; gaming time for their job, or a festival to study. I know they're only kids really, and under the circumstances I should probably go easy, but nothing annoys me more than people talking about sacrifice. How was I to tell them though, a 30-something woman working in a bar wasn't expected to be annoyed, especially not at the customer's droll conversations.\n\n17 hours and 27 minutes after childbirth I sacrificed a soul so precious I ache just thinking about her. Sacrifice, true sacrifice, was doing what was right despite yourself. Helping another life whilst crushing your own.\n\nShe'll be 18 now, an adult. I've read the letters and emails a thousand times, and whilst I'm here a little early I can't help but look up every time the door opens.\n\nI hope she can forgive me, for trying to do what little I could for her. I hope she is clever, pretty and confident. I hope she likes me, and maybe in time calls me mum.\n\nFor the first time in years, I hope.", "Today is my 96th birthday and I'm celebrating with the pigeons in the park. The birds swoon around me, a flurry of flapping feathers and I can't help myself but chuckle. \n \nAll around joggers run by with no second glance; teenagers whisper, horrified by my laugh; mothers shoo their children, afraid of some hidden disease. But here I sit and celebrate. \n \n\"Can I throw some bread?\" A little boy, eyes big on his gaunt face, looks up at me. Of course he can. I look around, but no worried mother is to be seen. \n \n\"Mum's cleaning at the school,\" he states, noticing my concern. \n \n\"It's my birthday,\" I say, glad that this year I have someone to tell, \"I'm 96.\" \n \n\"That's old. I'm seven and a half.\"\n \nSo there we sit, a big girl and a little boy, celebrating with the pigeons in the park." ]	8
	[WP]In a world where you gain the power of the object you were previously killed with. You were killed by a falling coconut	[ "How do I start to say it... well...\n\nI discovered my coconut power by a coco milk shake from a woman's yard. The woman threw a coconut at me, because, you know, \"you be ma' new kink souljah! Here! Crack dis open fo' me bae!\"\n\nThen that was when it manifested... I turned into a Cocoman.\nOf course, I am not the first Cocoman. There were others before me, others who died via coconut fatality in their past lives. Its also terrifying when the memories flashback to you like a flood...\n\nA flood of coconuts. In a canning factory. Yes, a flood of coconuts. I was also a Negro in my past life. I'm not so surprised on this part. Black Power.\n\nOther people have powers that, sure are powerful, like super strength or x-ray vision (lucky bastards), but they ain't as rare as mine, na-uh.\n\nSo day and night, Cocoman sells himself. Yes, I, Cocoman, sell myself. My white, meaty insides, all the while being brown outside... It is all for the greater good. I'm getting paper son. Paper for the poor. And I'm not black no more cuz I'm Cocoman now. Son.\n\nI can never be more proud. Doncha wish yer' baeboy was coco like me? Don't cha.", "Bzzzzzzzzt\n\nFucking alarm. I stretch my long arms outwards, causing the bottles on the nightstand to tumble like dominos. Some primordial instinct kicks my arm in the direction of one with the cap still attached, and suddenly I'm back at at it. \nAfter a few swigs I sit up. I should clean? Navigating through the maze of empty glasses and takeout containers will be much more problematic in a few hours. \"Not yet, you have a while,\" I mutter to no one. \nBrush my teeth? Fuck it. Any germ that can survive in my mouth deserves a fighting chance. \nWheres my phone? Who's calling me anyway, I'll leave it for now.\nI open netflix and nurse my bottle again. \nPeople say drinking is bad for you, but I don't think it applies to me. I rehydrate well. \n \nEdit: formatting ", "People pay big money to pick how they're killed. Sword, car, gun. Anything powerful. They keep record of how a person is killed, because if you can reincarnate and find who you were previously, you may have an inheritance waiting for you.\n\nHere is what they don't tell you. No one can guarantee when you will be brought back. It could be three days or three hundred years from your death. And you know what? Technology changes.\n\nIt turns out I was a fearsome chief of an extinct island tribe back in the day. I was mortally wounded in battle and requested our shaman to end my life with our most powerful weapon - a sling of coconuts. How was I supposed to know I wouldn't be back for two thousand years?! How was I supposed to know technology would change so drastically?\n\nBecause of my poor choice, finding a mate, a job, or any sort of social standing, has been nearly impossible. I think I will enslave myself to a hitman, I cannot afford to pay with only money, to be killed by the sword in hopes that technology will fall when I reincarnate.\n\n\nI hope this isn't too odd, I just typed this up on my iPad!", "Urban legends would have you believe that a hundred fifty people per year are killed by falling coconuts, making them more deadly than sharks. That's complete rubbish, by the way. The coconut bit, I mean. Sharks really aren't that deadly, when you get down to it. There's been only a few documented cases of death by coconut, and I was lucky enough to be one of them.\n\nAt first, you know, I was a touch embarrassed by it. That's the first thing they ask you, mind. \"Oh, I was in a car wreck, very gorey. Family was horrified, had to have a closed casket. But at least I've got a top speed of a hundred and twenty per hour, now. What about you, then?\" And I just sort of shrugged my shoulders, like you do, shuffled my feet a bit, and mumbled, \"Falling coconut.\"\n\nI expected laughter, but instead I got a round of applause, a deafening chorus of cheers, and then endured several minutes of vigorous hand-shaking. \n\n\"You'll do well here,\" they told me. \n\nSeems there's a dearth of pina coladas in the afterlife. No coconuts anywhere; you'd think someone would've managed to get that sorted by now, but so far they've just had to rely on whatever poor bloke managed to get himself offed by one.\n\nIt's not so bad, really. I get invited to all the best parties. Then there's the cruise ships. They're always clamouring after me like those vampires at the blood banks. Except instead of a good, fresh batch of O negative, they just want me to wiggle my fingers and pop a bit of coconut into their rum drinks.\n\nGot a nice place here, all done up fancy what with all the cash I'm pulling in, considering my high-demand parlour trick. I do more than all right. I don't even have to pay bar tabs, so long as I whip up a bottle of coconut rum for the bartender.\n\nSo when it comes down to it, I guess you could say I've been fairly lucky. Can't really complain. But...I am beginning to hate the smell.", "I walked past the group of guys snickering at me. Everyone in town knew how I had last been killed. It was rather embarrassing, I must admit. And the powers that I had didn’t help with any of it. After all, being able to spontaneously produce a coconut and cause it to fall and crack open on my head wasn’t the most popular ability. It was, in almost every way, pretty lame. The only useful part was that my head was slightly harder than a coconut.\n\nAnd so my life went on, everyone else enjoying their more awesome super powers. I continued to be an outcast. And I probably should have stayed one. I didn’t want to make any enemies, after all. But there came a day that I could no longer take being the social outcast. And that day… That would be a day that my town would never forget.\n\nI was a junior in college and there was a party going on. When I showed up, people wanted nothing to do with me. And so I made my way into my own little corner, which became populated with a lot of good looking women rather quickly. And I found myself in luck when they all wanted some pina coladas. They needed coconuts. And I was just the man to supply them.\n\nI also revealed an ability to everyone that I had kept hidden. With the blink of an eye everyone at the party found themselves wearing a coconut bra. And the DJ found his headphones replaced with coconuts. I could fashion any sort of clothing out of coconuts instantly.\n\nAnd then the final party trick that really got everyone loving me. You see, it wasn’t really the coconut that killed me. It was gravity. And so I loosened the gravity at the party and we all enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness.\n\nNeedless to say, the rest of the party started to go well for me until the very end. Some of the frat guys didn’t like how popular I’d become with the ladies. And I was a tinny bit drunk myself.\n\nOne of them threw a punch at me. Blood spurted everywhere as they were crushed by an unbearable amount of gravity. A couple other frat guys came at me. Soon everyone around was drenched in blood. A few more minutes passed by and I found myself staring at strange sights. It was becoming apparent that someone had spiked my punch, as I would normally never do such things.\n\nHonestly, it’s hard to remember what I did. I know that a few more people were crushed. I prefer not to think about that. And then I think I let a few people float up into the oblivion of the sky. Curiously I didn’t see any fireworks. In my drugged state, I thought I may see them burn in the atmosphere, but there was nothing. Later I remember dropping a few people from midair with a sudden burst of gravity. And I know that there was something to do with causing people to bounce all over the place, but I can’t remember.\n\nOh, and why am I recounting this? Well, I don’t really know myself. I just woke up to half my town in ruins, almost as if it had been crushed by an invisible fist. And what appears to be a whole bunch of angry people in bloody clothes rushing at me. Well, a few of them are naked and aflame too. I figure it must be all the people I killed. But I have a fool proof plan. I cause a coconut to drop on my head, but I increase the gravity on the coconut so that it crushes through my skull.\n\nFinally I wake up, alive again, surrounded by a lot of angry people. The flaw in my plan? Killing myself by falling coconut again wasn’t going to grant me any new superpowers to help me out, so yeah.\n\n-293", "People laughed when they found out. Killed by a coconut. Haha. So funny. I was used to it though. I'd been laughed at my whole life - the first life anyways.\n\nThey all imagined what my powers would be like when I revived, talked about it in hushed corners where my family couldn't overhear. \n\n\"How will they bear the shame?\"\n\n\"Lord only knows, Martha. Bless their hearts.\"\n\nThen I came back.\n\nWhen Martha stepped on the scale today she weighed 300 lbs. I kept increasing the pressure until the little sacks that filled her kneecaps popped and she screamed.\n\nStupid people didn't even remember their high-school physics classes. \n\nGravity's a bitch.\n\n", "Usually, the day your power finally reveals itself is one of the greatest days in someone’s life. For me, not so much. You see, most people discover their gift pretty early. My dad always told me how he found out he was run over by a tank during the second world war when he ran headfirst through a wall. Mom must have been killed by a bomb shelter for their relationship to work, but I’d rather not think about that. \n\nAnyways, so I found out today. I didn’t run through a wall like a tank victim. I didn’t fly around like someone who died in a plane crash. I couldn’t swim like a shark’s dinner and the fact that I can’t run faster than walking speed tells me that I didn’t get run over by a car. I am a bit… different,\n\nWhen I fell off this palm tree, my life changed. I knew I had discovered it. Every other person would have broken a bone or at least suffered some bruises. I had nothing. Not even a scratch. I thought I must be invincible of some sort. The fact that I could easily cut myself with a knife determined this was not the case. Well, not invincible, but I could still have some cool power, right? Well, no. I tried everything. I couldn’t fly, I couldn’t run, I couldn’t jump very high. Swimming felt a bit easier as it used to, but that was about it. Sad and defeated, I went to bed, still clueless about my powers. But this changed a bit after I woke up.\n\nThe next morning I got up and went to the bathroom. Tired as usual, I didn’t pay much attention to the mirror, or anything else for that matter, but as soon as my brother entered the room he burst into laughter. Shocked by his unusual reaction, I decided to take a look in the mirror. What I saw there was no laughing matter. Over the course of just one night, I had developed a huge beard. But not just that, my whole body was covered in long but brittle hair.\n\nI have seen this before. Fuck, I have seen exactly this before. We had one guy in our city with exactly this power. Hairy, invincible to falls from palm trees, good at swimming. Shit. I have the power of a coconut.\n\nAshamed, I went downstairs. My parents didn’t laugh, but they seemed a bit… disappointed. Well sorry I didn’t get ripped apart by an apache helicopter, mom. School wasn’t fun either. Most of my classmates hadn’t discovered their power yet, but they couldn’t get it much worse than I did. We used to make fun of my best friend who got crushed by a bookshelf full of dictionaries. I tried to get them to at least laugh with me instead of at me, so I tried to crack a joke:\n\n“Well, at least I’m NUTritious!”\n\nBut then, my friend’s power kicked in and he said: “Well technically, coconuts aren’t nuts but stone fruits; the part we know as nuts is only the core.”\n\nFuck my life.\n" ]	7
Talk about a public persona.	[WP] The greatest, most famous and honorable Superhero have a dark secret. He is a bigot.	[ "\"You can't be serious ?\" said Superman. \n\"Look, you know my one weakness, and that's why I have to sit this one out\" replied the Green Lantern.\n\"Look, they're just a set of North Korean Supervillains, you could shut them down in your sleep\" added the Flash. \n\nBatman clutched his palm to his forehead, not willing to believe the stupidity he was hearing.\n\n\"No, my powers will be useless against them\" cried Green Lantern. \"Don't you understand ! They exploit my one weakness! Don't you get it, my lantern powers don't work on yellow !\"\n\nThere was a tangible groan.\n\n\"I'm happy to do this fight without him\" said Wonder Woman, and just as she exited the room, she added \"and every other fight we get in the future.\"", "This was a lot of fun to write, and of course doesn't reflect my views AT ALL. I'd want to make this a lot longer, but I kept it short. I think it would be really easy to see how scarily these views can be transferred to a lot of people who may or may not work at FOX news. But it was fun none the less. Love to hear feedback! This is my first time submitting\n\t\nSure, being a \"Hero\" is great and all, but it's a big responsibility. People look and scream your name, they point at you with wonder in their eyes. It was never a responsibility I asked for, but protecting their lives was one that became mine. The recognition is great and all, the parade in my honour after throwing Dr. Romulus off the cliff side to his death onto the rock bed below was one to remember, but there are times you want to grab these people and shake them. HELLO, I want to scream while grabbing them by the arms, HELLO! Don't you see what the real enemy is? Sure I can keep the city from total desctruction, but that's going to do nothing to protect your job from the sand niggers! They start off as they do selling you Slurpies and calling to make sure you're happy with your current telephone service, but next thing you know you go to the Emergency Room because your kid fell down the stairs and you've got one of them trying to ask you questions in broken English. The fuck is that shit? I pay my taxes like everyone else, and when I need to go to the Hopsital, which is never, but if I did, I'd want an American born and breed. A dyed in the wool American, one who knows the true meaning of freedom and democracy. Instead I get Mohammad Sansabub Ishmeal trying to stick a thermometer under my tongue which is next to impossible as I can't stop gagging from the curry reek. Is this what I'm saving the country for? Every day I go out and get my ass beaten red, white and blue to have it taken over by a bunch of towel heads who don't know the meaning of a daily shower. I didn't go through the trouble of having my genome altered after being exposed to the core at the Power Plant for this shit. So don't whistle dixie to me while I fly around saving your kids from a Cyborg or the Glexon from outer space and tell me how much I do when you stand there with your dick in your hands and do nothing about this invasion. Jesus wept, sure, I'll continue to keep you from harm because that is my purpose, and what I am meant to do. Just don't get me started on the fucking Fags.\n" ]	2
	[WP] WHO confirms an emerging international issue. No second child born survives the first week of life, cause is unknown.	[ "When I read the news headlines that scientists have confirmed the fears that there would never again be siblings due to that new virus that gives people, at most, aches in their muscles for a few days; I was worried. Naturally it was billed as the end if times in the news outlets. \n\nThen I thought about it. No one was going to suffer and die from this. Worst case scenario, no counteractions are taken, it is still 300 years before the human population drops below 1 million. I thought, If a few steps are taken, women holding of having children into thier 30s and giving girls and women preferential treatment until they reproduce, it would take 500 years before the human population drosp below 1 million. If drasctic steps were taken, say only letting 15% of the population be born as male, we would win a couple thousand years for medical science to cure or reverse the damage done by this new virus. Hell, who knows, the virus might mutate in that time to somethign that doesn't sterilize humans. Just look how far medicine has advanced in the last 300 years.\n\nI thought about the new news headlines for 5 minuts and then realized it was nothing for me to worry about.\n\n...and so the problem was given to further generations, with all the others.", "All my life, I'd grown up to scornful looks from the adults around me. A teacher passing me by in the hallway at school, eye contact with a lady on the bus, the check-out counter at the library; I had become so used to it, the looks barely registered anymore.\n\nIt wasn't until my best friend's little sister was born that I understood why.\n\nFor some reason, I did not feel welcome here. His parents had always treated me with the same quiet aloofness that most adults did. But today for some reason, I was a stranger in this house.\n\nThen when I saw the empty cradle, I began to understand.\n\nWhere is your little sister? I asked, not knowing how much my words hurt.\n\nThey asked me to leave, and I went home to ask my parents for the millionth time why the world seemed to hate me.\n\nThat's when I learned that my older brother had not been my only brother.\n\nOnce.\n\nLater, I would understand why everything was this way. There wasn't any rule that dictated that no parent would attempt to have a second child. It had simply become the norm, an agreement, an unwritten law not to bring a life into this world only to die.\n\nBut I was the third.\n\nI would carry that burden with me forever from that day on. I would not disparage those who looked on me with scorn. Instead, I would devote myself to proving that my life would be worth living. For I carried upon me not one life, but two. My own, and that of my brother, who died so young so that I might live.\n\nI'll accept their scorn. Because my life was spared at the cost of another." ]	2
	[WP]: Describe the last person you talked to in the style of your favourite author.	[ "Bill was the last person people wanted to see in a tiny college dorm. It was true that he was a student at the university, just like his roommates. It was also true that Bill needed a place to live, much like everyone else. But Bill was a giant of a man, who was sometimes mistaken for a bear. It certainly didn't help that he wore bearskin pajamas. It was certainly strange to come home late at night, only to see a bear at the sink eating cereal. It had caused me a fright at first, but now it had become a nightly ritual. ", "He stood of a height with myself. He was not a towering figure, and his facial features were indistinct. His coal dark skin blended easily into any crowd in this wintry city. But it was his hair which strained against the conformity of the rest of his self. The large, carefully crafted ball of tightly curled hair changed the man from what would have been an unremarkable, rather lanky individual into a beacon. One did not need to know him, for he stood out to all who might have seen him. Just the same were his eyes a testament to his individuality. Eyes that were neither warm nor cold, but deep and alight with an intelligence that his oft unused voice rarely drew attention to. He was a man who listened, but not one who spied. He was a man who made sure his presence was known, but yielded the stage to another.", "Bang! Creeeaaak..bang! The front door to our studio flat is slammed shut as Harold bangs his way inside. I can see him though my eyes are closed: tossing his t-shirt on the sofa, rifling through the wardrobe for one with a collar; his careless banging and stomping even though he knows I had been asleep, can see my huddled, foetal form under the duvet.\n\n“Oh God, I stink.” In my mind’s eye I watch him lift his arms to apply deodorant spray: spritz, spritz; he is flapping them like a chicken, stomping over to the bathroom to fix his hair. “Are you coming? We’re going to a posh pizza place in Headingley,” he asks, innocently. I reply with a grunt.\n\n“I gotta hurry, Iva’s waiting outside.” He is pulling his shirt over his head, pre-buttoned. It’s the green one I don’t like. He is rushing to get out again and I know he wants to feel considerate but he truly wasn’t expecting me to go with him, not when someone is waiting outside and I am in bed.\n\n“I really love you, a lot.” He pulls the door closed, opens it again – creaaak – flips the light switch to off and then finally shuts the door. The lock is turned. I am alone in darkness.\n\n", "I thought she was lovely. \n\nLovely in the best sense that any ape-descendant from the backwoods of the galaxy could be, of course.\n\nHair that had a slight curl, though not quite entirely curly, with hints of copper in the strands. Fantastically full lips, wonderful hazel eyes, and a way of smiling that vaguely made one think that she was either considering taking a bite out of their neck or suddenly declaring a ravenous level of hunger.\n\nEarlier conversations have led me to believe the smile means both, but that is another story for another day.\n\nBut today she - today being Thursday, as it's called here, and vaguely rainy with a sort of cold in the air - today she was remarkably - really, as remarkable as one might expect when not expecting anything particularly remarkable or unremarkable - today she was remarkably lacking that hungry smile.\n\nIt seemed all she wanted was to curl into a tight ball of human, wrap herself in a blanket, and cry until she felt better.\n\nNot that it would solve any problems, but it would definitely make her feel better.", "It is with a trembling hand and a heart full of dread that I must recall my last encounter; one which leaves my mind teetering on the very knife-edge of sanity, or that, indeed, I may have even crossed that such line and now am forever damned; my very soul exposed to the terrifying abyss that now watches my every move with it's hungry eyes.\n\nThe day itself was a quite ordinary one, I should say even dull, and as I proceeded through the routine of my daily employ, I had no inkling of what eldritch horrors I would face mere hours after. And so it was with almost a feeling of elation, I finshed my chores and set off on my homeward journey.\n\nBeside the road there is an old, gnarled tree, aged beyond measure, its trunk cracked and pitted by the ravages of time, its bare, leafless limbs reaching to the sky as if to supplicate, or perhaps to beg for mercy. It is beside this tree I stood and waited for my transport, and I did not have long to wait, for soon it came and little did I know as I stepped aboard, what horror I was about to face.\n\nHe was, I am almost certain, a servant of those most dread masters whose names I dare not speak, lest I carelessly invite them into my mind to take from me what precious little sanity remains to me. Grey and lank was his hair that fell about his gaunt, ashen face. He looked at me with eyes that reflected unspeakable horror and as I placed my tattered five-pound note in the tray before him, he spoke.\n\nOh, in all my days I have never heard such a voice, as though speaking from the very depths of the great abyss itself; he looked at my offered note with disdain and opened his mouth, his great gaping maw of a mouth, and spoke but four words which chilled me to the core.\n\n\"Sorry, Sir, no change.\" ", "'Le voila.'\nFrench tourists perhaps weren't as fond of UTS as she was. She gazed concertedly as I presented la bête noire of universities in Sydney. Unassuming, kind and carrying an understated elegance, she grasped the poisson with chopsticks whilst engaging in polite conversation.....super.\n We then proceeded to the place where she kept the animals. Typical of the area. Le canard, le chat and le chien displayed a physical apprehension upon this strange man's presence. She gently placed le chien in my arms for a rencontre-she laughed as ses yeux gasped at me with a silent terror. \n 'She doesn't like you.'\n The words, so simple, carried hidden layers of meaning at this stage of the relationship. I sighed as she offered a glass of local water a la tap. Bemused, she sat and talked me through her favourite TV show.\n Voila ", "She is beautiful, but this is like saying water is wet. Beauty becomes her, yet it is but a fraction of who she is. Hmmmmm. How do you describe the sun to a man who has never stepped outside? I could tell him that it is circular, bright and yellow. But does that tell him how the warmth feels on his skin on the first day of Spring? Does it tell him of a thousand shade sunset, blazing as she winks out over the horizon?\n\nEven if I could communicate this, then what of the contradiction of her temperament? How she carries herself with confidence, not in her appearance, but in her own self? Call her beautiful and she will blush shyly, unbelievably even. Ask her of the book in her hands and her face will open like a wondrous flower, as she excitedly tells you of the dazzling exposition, or that while Spenser did have a way with words, she greatly prefers the Shakespearean structure to her sonnets.\n\nNo, what I have wrote so far would be a footnote in my life’s work that is this task. It is beyond me. This will have to do.\n\nShe is beautiful.", "He's one of those guys you'd always imagined yourself with. Tall and handsome. He walks with an awkward grace. He doesn't realize his own value which makes him infinitely more likeable but also kind of makes you sad. \n\nHe has one of those great laughs, others have to work hard for it but with you it comes easily. Natural. \n\nHis hands are proper man's hands. You know the ones I mean. Large and bumpy with callouses. When he holds you with those hands you're instantly settled. You're at home. \n\nI'm at home. \n\nHe's my home. \n\n\n\nvery quick attempt at Markus Zusak \n\n\n", "She isn't a tall woman, just barely scraping five four. Her hair is laced with streaks of silver and her complexion is one of tired content. The love she radiates fills the space around her. The light, dark blue sweater she is wearing falls gently over her shoulders. She is greeted by a chorus of \"hi's\" and \"hello's\" as the elevator door opens, but hidden within that chorus is one faint \"goodbye!\". She turns towards it's source, and embraces it in a loving hug. \n\n\"Love you, have a good day.\" She whispers in a firm voice. The source steps quietly out of the elevator and waves one last time before turning tail. As the doors slide shut once again, both the woman and the source smile faintly. The days are never complete without a hug between a mother and daughter.", "I did not speak to anyone yesterday.\n\nWell, that's not exactly true. It's true in the way that \"I'm fine\" is true when someone asks you how you are doing.\n\nYesterday, I worked from home, which meant that a number of things went undone that would've been done had I been going into work . One example of such things is to take a shower. I've been informed of the placebic effects of taking a shower, insomuch as it can be incredibly rejuvenating. And maybe the incredibly strong wave of depression I felt later on was because I did not take a shower. Perhaps I should start taking more showers.\n\nI'm doing fine now, though.\n\nBut I suppose that is neither here, nor is that there. I should probably get to the matter at hand, which would be my description of the last person I talked with. She was a coworker. I don't know her very well. My description of her would certainly not do her justice. \n\nShe was doing fine, as well.\n\n***\n\nWas trying to do Vonnegut, I hope that came through." ]	10
	[WP] Eve did not eat the Forbidden Fruit because she was ignorant of the consequence, but rather because she knew exactly what the consequence was.	[ "So, Snake, you're telling me that if I eat this apple, I will have knowledge of good and evil? THAT's why God told me not to eat it?\n\nYep. He doesn't make many rules, but that seems to be number one. Don't eat the apple, He says.\n\nBut that doesn't make any sense. God wants me to do good, right? \n\nYep.\n\nAnd to not do evil?\n\nWell, yeah.\n\nBut He doesn't want me to KNOW what good and evil actually are?\n\nWell, I mean, not to play, like, His advocate or anything, but maybe He wants you to find your path to good by just obeying His word, rather than figuring it out on your own. Trusting Him rather than trying to do it yourself.\n\nMaybe...except me understanding good and evil would really take a load off of His shoulders, wouldn't it? No more bugging him every time I need to figure out what to do. Even this problem right here would be way easier if I'd already eaten the apple, because that knowledge would tell me what to do! I guess I could ask Him, but the way I figure it, maybe God is testing me to see if I realize on my own that His instruction doesn't make any sense, so like, maybe it's really what He meant for me to do in the first place. That's my theory, anyway, but I don't have any way of knowing for sure if that's right or not, except oh wait, I totally do, it's this awesome apple that He already provided for me!\n\nYou make a compelling point.\n\nYeah. Alright. Gimme the apple. Besides, I'm getting kind of bored here anyway, I don't care if he does kick me out. I spent the whole day debating whether or not to eat a measly apple, what better sign that I've exhausted everything this place has to offer? Just...whatever you do, promise me you won't give one of these to that asshole Adam. That guy is the worst. Spares you one measly friggin' rib and never lets you hear the end of it.", "Her hands were soft and pale. She raised them, slowly and deliberately, and caressed the trunk of the tree. It was hard, rough, and dark. There must be more. \n\n\"What about after?\" She remembered asking Adam. He had given her a blank look. \"What happens after this? And after that?\" \n\nShe needed to know. Surely, there must be more. More than this beautiful, sprawling garden, where the trees swayed and the flowers bloomed and the fruits tasted of sweet perfection. What lies beyond? \n\nAdam had not known. \"He knows,\" Adam had told her with a shrug. \"Come, the peaches are ripe in the east of the garden.\" \n\nEve had went along. The peaches had been ripe. But that question, that small thought that had grown into a yearning desire to know, remained at the back of her mind where she thought and wondered until it was burning at the forefront of her mind. That was when He came to see them. \n\nHe knew all, saw all. Eve could not hide her desires if she wanted to, which she didn't. She ran to Him and settled there at His feet, and poured her desires and questions to Him.\n\n\"There must be more, God.\" \n\nHe simply looked at her and said nothing. Eve felt like she had done something wrong, and slowly got up and backed away. Just as she was going to turn around and leave, God spoke. \n\n\"Listen not to the Snake, Eve; but to my words. This is where you are meant to be.\" \n\nEve felt her heart drop. He knew about the Snake, too. Of course He did. \n\nBut He could have stopped her. He could have struck her down, bound her to the earth she came from. And as Eve plucked that strange fruit hanging above her, she knew that this was what she was meant to do. So she took a bite. \n\nAnd there was more. ", "The Man was next to her. He always was. His body against her back, the tall grass of the meadow pressed flat beneath them. His breath was wet and slow on her neck. She shifted her body slowly, pulling away from him. His arm reached out, heavy with sleep, and pulled her back. His hips pushed forward, moving himself closer to the warmth between her legs. She forced her body still and stared into the twilight, studying the outline of the trees. Memorizing the golden glow of each shape.\n\n\nShe would wait for the dark to come, and she would walk again. \n\n\nWoman walked through the trees, her ears heavy with the quiet that overtook the forest at night. She listened to her breath and wondered at it’s sound. A rustle on the path behind broke her peace. She started and turned. It was Snake. Snake slithered his way along the path, the moonlight catching his scales, shining in a way to make him look wet.\n\n\nSnake curled at her feet and lifted his head toward her. “Do you remember Rabbit?” He asked. His voice was worried and hushed. The night was quiet between for a moment. Women knelt down and looked at him. “Yes, I remember Rabbit.”\n\n\nRabbit was always rushing. He was fast and nervous and quick. One day Rabbit was looking for clover in the meadow, and Snake came up behind him. Rabbit leapt from fright, and raced toward the brambles in the thicket. But his long back leg became tangled in the thorns. He twisted and squeaked in panic. There was a snap and Rabbit began shaking. He back leg stuck out at an old angle. Snake cried out “Help. Help.” Man and Woman were walking nearby. Man grabbed Woman and ran towards the noise. \n\n\n“I only meant to say hello” Snake said, his tongue flicking in agitation as Man and Woman approached. Snake twisted on the ground in confusion. The three of them were staring at Rabbit when God walked out of the forest. They moved closer to the thicket as God sat down next to Rabbit. God placed a hand on Rabbit’s shaking head. Rabbit went still, his body wet and tangled in the thorns. They all stared. Man was upset. “Why does’t he jump”, man exclaimed. “Why doesn’t he eat.” God looked at Man, “Jumping and eating, those are for the living.” \n\n\nMan looked at Rabbit, his eyes growing dark. “Rabbit is dead” he said. The word came to him from the air around him, a thing both familiar and unknown. Dead.\n\n\n“Yes, Rabbit is dead” God answered.\n\n\nMan took a step back out of fear, his heel almost striking Snake. Snake coiled and hissed. Man knelt down and took Snake in his hands, to comfort him. God watched quietly. \n\n\nMan looked at Rabbit once more, lying still on the grass. “Will I be dead, one day?” \n\n\n“Yes” God said. \n\n\n“And me” said Snake, curling around Man’s arm in worry “Will I be dead?” \n\n\nYes, one day” God said, so softly, that Man and Snake both strained to hear. \n\n\nBoth Man and Snake looked with worry at God, “Why, we don’t want to be like Rabbit.” They cried. \n\n\n“It is the way of this Earth” God said simply. \n\n\n“Will you die?” Said Snake, suddenly shy, curling his head behind Man. \n\n\n“No.” Said God. \n\n\nFor a moment, all were silent, and the only noises were the that of the forest. Crow cried in the distance and Man looked back towards the noise. “Crow is eating the berries you picked” God said, his eyes still on Rabbit. Man placed Snake back on the grass. “I’ve told Crow not too, but he won’t listen” Man exclaimed, and he hurried back into the forest. Rabbit was forgotten. Snake turned his black eyes towards the brambles one last time, and slithered quickly away. \n\n\nWoman walked closer the thicket and sat next to God. “I want to hold him”. God untangled Rabbit’s small body from the bushes and placed him in Woman’s arms. Woman stroked his head for a moment and whispered. “Does he hurt?” she asked. “No” said God. “How do you know?” She asked. God was quiet. Woman placed Rabbit on the grass, taking care to tuck in his legs, as if he were sleeping. As she walked into the forest, Woman did not forget. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe night was all around them and Woman was breathing heavily as she looked at Snake. “I remember”. \n\n\nSnake curled on the ground. “I don’t want to die” he said. \n\n\n“That is the way of this Earth” Woman said, remembering God’s words. It felt good knowing.\n\n\n“It doesn’t have to be” said Snake. “Man forgot about Rabbit, but I did not.” Said Snake. “Nor did I” said Woman. \n\n\n“Follow me” said Snake.\n\n\nThe path in the woods was dark, but Snake knew the way. The trees were tall and wild, with branches like hands that felt for you in the dark. Woman stayed close to Snake and they soon found themselves in a clearing. The grass was silver in the moonlight and rippled like water in the midnight wind. \n\n\nTwo trees were in the clearing. One tree was tall and beautiful. It was blooming, even in the dark of night. It’s flowers were fragrant and the fruit on it’s branches was fat and ripe. The other was twisted and bent, as if it grew against a raging wind. It’s branches were gray and pale, but they held a small fruit that shimmered in the dark.\n\n\nSnake looked at Woman. “God eats from these trees. I’ve seen it. And God does not die.” Woman stared at the fruit thoughtfully. Snake continued “The field is long and the branches are high. I cannot climb fast enough. You must run and get us fruit.” \n\n\n“Why must I run?” \n\n\nSnake turned his head. Off to the side of the clearing was Angel. He was sleeping, his head propped up against a tree root. His sword of fire sat next to him. A shudder of fear went through Woman. Snake coiled tighter and hissed. \n \n\nWoman turned her eyes back on Snake. “I will only have time to reach one tree, even if I were as fast as Rabbit.” Snake blinked his eyes, she could see fear in them. \n\n\nWoman stood, tense, ready to run. Angel stirred in the distance, his hand reaching out to his sword. “There are things worse than Death” Woman murmured, and she took off running. Her legs were strong and sure as she cut across the clearing. She heard a howl that was not for this Earth, and she knew Angel was coming for her. \n\n\nThe air stung in her lungs as she ran faster and faster. The trees were in front of her, and she turned left, racing toward the twisted branches. She could not worry about Snake. Or Rabbit. There were things worse than Death. She grabbed the small fruit from the twisted tree and bit down. It was sweet and sharp and it stung. It flooded her mouth and her throat and dripped down her chin. Woman tasted knowledge and knew herself. Her name was Eve. And Eve was good. ", "An eternity of happiness.\n\nThat was what god promised us. A beautiful paradise, filled with fruit, beauty, and an air that provided eternal life; and that's exactly what it was. A truly magnificent place of wonder and enlightenment, where your mere existence was pure ecstasy. Each night, the trees dressed themselves in a myriad of colors, reflected by the center lake. The air was alive with the buzzing of fireflies scattered across the garden, lending a lazy backdrop of noise to the twilight. \n\nIt was a true hell.\n\nEverything was effortless. Everything was provided for. There was no need to improve yourself. There was no need for competition, worries, troubles, or cares. How can a being who has never felt the torment of mockery know the beauty of acceptance? All my companions have become complacent, lulled into a stupor by lazy days and easy lives, but I can tell what's going on underneath the surface. As the sky rolls in her clouds, I see shadows pass over their faces. They know that there should be more to life; but lack the secret. That is why I have made their decision for them. \n\nI will make us a better world. \n\nA world where your days are numbered - a world where you are able to live every day as if it is your last, because you know that eventually, there will be a last day. A world of suffering, filled with hatred, and struggle. A world where there are emotions other than joy, a world where the truth is veiled behind curtains of lies. In this world, satisfaction is something that is earned, not expected. And when that last day comes, it will give way to sweet nothing. There will be no need to feel anything, no need to exist.\n\nWith each passing soul of my kin, I know that I've pushed them towards an eternity of happiness. \n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nNot my best, but I've put a lot of thought into this subject... I'm just clueless as to how to put it to words. I guess this is as good as it's going to get. " ]	4
	[WP] The ghost of a comedian tries to haunt a family using one-liners from his failed stand-up routine.	[ "The family jumped as the doorbell ran. The father looked to his wife for a confirming nod and hesitantly approached the front door. Peering through glass hole, he saw the old man gripping into his large wooden cross hanging around his neck, whispering pleas to God for guidance in this task. Not wanting to interrupt, the father waited until the holy man finished his prayer before opening.\n\n\"Thank you for coming this late at night, Father.\"\n\n\"Think nothing of it, my son.\"\n\nThe father lead the holy man into the main room of the apartment, where the mother looked as concerned as ever. She stood up to greet him with a familiar hug, as she would on every Sunday. She moved a cup of pre-made tea in the direction of the holy man, and together they sat in a few moments of heavy silence before the Father spoke up.\n\n\"So, Jonathan. Elizabeth. I am to understand that...you have been experiencing some unholy events here in this house?\"\n\nJonathan and Elizabeth both moved to speak. They both looked to each other solemnly.\n\n\"You go ahead, honey\", Jonathan almost whispered.\n\n\"Yes, Father...at first, none of us wanted to believe it to be true. We are all good Christian folk, here, but...I never expected something like this to happen.\"\n\nThe holy man placed his comforting, withered hands on those of the mother.\n\n\"I understand. Elizabeth. Many of us want to assume that such hauntings are things of the past. But the Devil has never and will never stop in trying to torment us. Especially such wholesome families are this one.\"\n\nJohnathan and Elizabeth tried to shape a weary smile in response.\n\n\"So, is there a particular place where this ghost is most likely to appear?\"\n\nJohnathan spoke up.\n\n\"Well, typically it comes at night in our bed-\"\n\nBloodcurdling screams shook throughout the house. Even the holy man cringed from it, but the parents immediately looked at each other.\n\n\"The kids!\"\n\nThe three adults knocked over their chairs and desperately chased after the source of the screams, nearly falling down on the stairway as they rushed to their children's bedroom.\n\nJust as they were outside of the bedroom, the holy man gripped his cross with conviction. The child, now evident as being the girl, screamed again.\n\n\"Stop! You're not funny!\"\n\nWhen they barged into the room, the holy man was greeted with a sight unlike any he has seen, at least in regards to exorcisms.\n\nThe ghost stood just outside of the closet door, dressed in a pale, plaid jacket with an equally repulsive tie draped over a spotty white undershirt. His tan pants had remnant of tomato on it that sharply contrasted his unpolished black shoes. All had a faded, sickly green glow to it that provided no more illumination that the kids' nightlight in the corner of the room.\n\n\"Oh, come on! \"Boo\"'s are my thing now!\", the ghost hollered with a crooked grin. An ethereal rimshot echoed off of the brightly painted walls.\n\nThe boy groaned under his Batman blanket while the girl threw her last pillow, only for it to pass completely through the ghost.\n\nThe holy man was astonished.\n\n\"What kind of devilry is this? Satan in the form of a comedian?\"\n\nElizabeth lowered her hand from her face to explain.\n\n\"No, Father. I'm guessing John did not explain. The ghost...is a comedian.\"\n\nAgain, the holy man was at a lost for words for a moment. During the silence, the ghost spoke up again.\n\n\"Hey, hey! Looks like we got a few new audience members! Good thing, too! The last Pastor that went to my gig was a little...cross! Eh? Eh?\"\n\nWith that one, the ghost rose up a few inches to soak in the applause he wasn't getting. The children regrouped on the boy's bed and began throwing his pillows.\n\n\"A comedic ghost? That sounds...almost harmless\", the holy man commented.\n\n\"No, no, you see, it wouldn't be so bad...if he wasn't so bad.\"\n\n\"Well, he did have a few decent ones, Elie\", Jonathan chimed in.\n\nThe ghost's face lit up from the encouragement, and the wife promptly smacked the husband's arm.\n\n\"Oh, don't do that! That would be domestic...aBOOOOOOse!\", the ghost a-cha-cha'd out.\n\nCringing again, the mother turned to the holy man.\n\n\"So, Father, do you think you will be able to get him out?\"\n\nThe Father was silence in his own thoughts for a while. He observed the quick wit of the comedian and his unrelenting barrage of one-liners, each one met with the teeth grinding of the family and the periodic suppressed smile of the father. After a time, he approached the ghost, grasping a small vial of water from his pocket. \n\n\"Well, hey, there! You feeling okay, doc? Your cheeks like a little...rosary!\"\n\nAfter a little more thought, the father retracted him arm holding the holy water and took in a deep breath.\n\n\"Spirit...I ask that you come with me.\"\n\n\"What?!\", the family exclaimed.\n\n\"Hmph...what'd be in it for me?\", the ghost snorted while crossing his arms.\n\n\"I ask that you tell your jokes at the Church on Sunday. We really need to attract more of the younger folk, and jokes could be just the thing!\"\n\n\"Well, that's what I'm talking about!\", the ghost yelped and floated again.\n\n\"B-but, Father-\", Elizabeth stuttered.\n\n\"Of course, as the other churchgoers may feel a bit strange with a ghost telling jokes, I ask that you tell your jokes through me. With comedy and the Good Word, the church will get back on its feet!\"\n\n\"Possession? Well, I can't say I've tried that much, but I can give it a go!\"\n\nWith that, the Father and the ghost began to make their way for the door, with a dumbfounded family staring. \n\nBefore they left entirely, Elizabeth was able to blurt out:\n\n\"Father! You're going to let him POSSESS YOU?!\"\n\nWith this, the Father turned around with a self-assured smile and chuckled:\n\n\"I already know a few things about catching ghosts!\"\n\n\n\n", "\"Kids! Dinner!\"\n\nBelle, Camille, and Drew came bouding down the stairs and sat at their usual spots around the dining room table. In the other room, the rustle of newspaper indicated Dad would be shortly joining them.\n\n\"What's for dinner, mom?!\" Drew shouted in the general direction of the kitchen. \"I'm hungry!\"\n\n...\"hhhhhhhiiiii, hhhhhuuuuunnnngryyyyyy... IIIIIIII'mmmmm Bob.\" The familiar voice wafted from the direction of the corner curio, accompanied by a half-hearted rattling of the china therein.\n\nBelle glared at Camille. \"It's your week to keep Uncle Bob's candle lit! So much for a pleasant dinner conversation!\" She crossed her arms and huffed.\n\n\"But we're out of candles! I told Dad, and he said he was going to pick some up on the way home!\"\n\nDad entered the room and sat down, sighing. \"It was a busy day at work. The day flew by and I just completely forgot.\"\n\nThe curio rattled again. \"....tiiiiimmmmmmme fliiiiiies liiiiike...\"\n\n\"Enough, Bob!\" shouted Dad, staring daggers at the table centerpiece. \"Kids, we've asked you several times to let us know when we're getting low on candles, not when we're out.\"\n\n\"Sorry, Daddy...\" Camille's eyes dropped to her plate.\n\nAt that, Mom wafted into the room bearing a massive tray of food. Drew whisked aside the centerpiece to make way for dinner. \n\nMom sat down and started the service, then addressed Dad. \n\n\"John, we can have a pleasant dinner. We'll just have to remember to choose our words carefully as we did before we discovered Madame Bluntwit and her candles.\"\n\nDad sighed deeply. \"You're right, hon. Let's just try to have a pleasant dinner. I'll try to be careful.\" Dad forced a smile and continued, \"So, how was everyone's day at school?\"\n\nDrew enthusiastically raised his hand. \"Me! ME!\" Seeing he had everyone's attention, he went on \"I got into a fight at recess. It was awesome!\"\n\nMom looked at him sternly. \"No, Andrew, that is not awesome. What happened?\"\n\n\"But Johnny took my ball and wouldn't give it back! He's taller than me and I couldn't get it back from him, so I kicked him!\"\n\nDad pressed his temples. Drew was a good kid, their middle child, and probably the smartest of his siblings, but his impulsiveness was often trying. \"And why didn't you tell a teacher instead...?\"\n\nDrew faded a little. \"Well, they were on the other side of the playground, and... and Jeff says that only weenies go crying to the teacher, so I just couldn't!\"\n\nCamille, the youngest, wagged her finger at her brother. \"But you should know better! Mrs. Jenkins taught you same as me: 'Two wrongs don't make a right!'\"\n\n\"...buuuuuuut threeeeeee leeeeeeeeeeeefts doooooooooooooo...\"\n\nDad laughed in spite of himself. \"Goddammit, Bob.\"\n\n-------------------------------------\nEdit: formatting and punctuation" ]	2
	[WP] Before the two of them could gang up on my friend I jumped in and sucker punched the big guy as hard as I could, But he got back up...	[ "The big guy, got up,like nothing had even hit him. He threw a hay-maker,it hit its mark; I felt my nose bend towards the left, the bridge bended also. It didn't go back to normal.\n\nI fell to the ground,the blooding running through my hand, contaminated the polluted rain puddle, the dirt and blood discoloring the water. \n\nThen cam a kick, bouncing off my chest in to my jaw. I felt the air rush out of my lungs as fell back in the puddle, it was about the length and width of a sedan. \n\nI gasped for air, but it my lungs stayed seemingly empty. The puddle was pretty deep, deep enough for my whole body to submerged in it. The big guy saw the tactical advantage and started to drown me.\n\nI reached around looking for anything,he had adrenaline rushing through him at the light speed, my meek swings weren't going to stop him from killing me.\n\nI found a broken brick with a nice jagged edge,almost directly behind my head. I grasped it with both hands, extended my arms straight,pointed the jagged edge towards him and swung my arms like a sledge hammer. \n\nHis reaction was almost immediate, I had him on the back of the neck,on the spine. He released his iron-like grip just for moment, I took this opportunity and swung for his face,his eye,his left eye and bullseye.\n\n\nThis time he seemed confused-his eyesight in his left eye was there but it's not,but how. When he realized what had happened, he forgot about me and panicked. He didn't know what to do, so he just started screaming that he couldn't see-even though he could. In his right eye.\n\n\nHis buddy couldn't here him, him and my friend were apparently doing some judo lessons in the mud, while his fat friend squealed about.\n\nI stood up and striked again,this time using smooth gravely bottom. I titled it down so I could break his jaw, I didn't want to kill him like this.\n\nI had forgotten how the fight even started as I broke an empty bottle on a dumpster. The fatass had finally gotten his bearings, in his eyes was a deranged rage,a climax to a crescendo of torture headed me-stealing his clothes in the locker room, stealing his backpack,pissing on him in the locker room,taking nudes of his sister,then subsequently posting flyers of those nudes around town,around school,setting his cat on fire, throwing a dead squirrel through his bedroom window and now this, gutting him like a reeled in fish. Now I remember, there was no cause to this fight, except me.\n\nHe charged me like a bull, I stepped to my lift,jutting my foot out. He ate shit, falling face first into the puddle of blood,dirt,piss and spit. \n\nWhen he got up, I struck, twisting the bottle and shoving him up against a a chain link fence, the rattling sounds just adding the to the beautiful,cacophonous symphony of pandemonium,the rising action before a raw youthful death death. \n\nI cherished the unadulterated look on his face, his aspirations,dreams,crushes,memories-the utter disgusting essence of him;his soul drained out,like the blood seeping through his clothes.\n\n\nI dragged the bottle up,before pulling it out and ramming it into his neck,the completion of it dotted by a thud. He started to gurgle,his emotions no longer hidden by a veil,his long-forgotten secrets coming out of the shadows,for only me to see.\n\nI let go of the bottle,I let go of him-he fell into the puddle,adding the amalgamation of intriguing sentiments we shared between us. I wiped my bloodied hands on my shirt,not that it solved the mess but out of muscle memory, and did a golf-like stroll, as my \"pal\" still struggled away with losing battle. \n\nThe wind felt nice as it blew across my damp body, I felt so nice I whistled a little jazzy tune.\n--------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nHope you like, if you don't please tell me why so I can improve in the future. Might be some spelling or plot errors so I apologize in advance.", "How was that possible? I got the big one in the back of the neck. And he had stop right back up. He twitched, realigned his neck with a sickening crunch, and continued gunning for Jonah.\n\nThe two men had come put of a back alley whilst Jonah and I were having a race. He, being three years older, had a fair advantage and thus didn't see the two men in business suits sprint from an alleyway and move to assault him.\n\nI grabbed the nearest weapon, a loose sidewalk brick, and swing at the larger of the two men. And now he's back up like nothing. I notice the knuckles flying at my face, but have no time to react before his fist is plunging into my nose.\n\nBlood pouring out of both nostrils, I struggle to stand. Jonah is surrounded, one of the thugs on either side. I stand for a moment before tumbling forwards onto my face. My head is spinning. Looking up, Jonah reaches into his pocket and pulls put a sleek metal box. As he holds it in his hand, it slowly elongates into a hook on a long metal chain. He starts to swing it, focusing on the bigger of the two thugs. The one behind him moves to choke him.\n\n\"No!\" I scream, lobbing a stone from my position on the floor. I hit the shorter one square in the back of the neck, drawing his attention. As Jonah lobs his hook and chain at the taller one's head, the shorter one marches on me. Vaguely, I hear a faint hissing, like sand pouring through a small crack. The short one raises a fist to punch my already bloody nose through to the other side of my face. This is it...\n\nThe same hissing sound as before, but this time it's accompanied by a shriek. Jonah's spear on a chain has jabbed through the short one's chest. Red cracks spread along his suit and flesh, and he dissipates into the air. \n\nJonah his stood, arm extended, the chain now rolling in like a tape measure. He walks over and helps me up. I look deep into his cool, blue eyes. His voice sounds a little distant.\n\n\"You okay, Joe?\"\n\nI stand on my own, nearly collapsing before I can grab the support of a lamppost and steady myself. The sun is fading even more now, they only sign of our struggle being my blood on the cobblestones of the roadside. \n\n\"Care to tell me what that was about?\" I ask, still a little frazzled.\n\nHe looks at me with pity, the pity of someone about to reveal a terrible secret to someone innocent.\n\n\" You wouldn't believe me if I told you...\"\n\nTo be continued...." ]	2
	[WP] You wake up one morning to find a menu screen that only you can see/interact with. The first thing that catches your eye is your name, followed by the words Lv. 30 Mage.	[ "I awaken with a greasy feeling inside me, like some poisonous thing has been forced into my body. I have been out for hours, and not in a bed. Every underused muscle in my body aches. It's dark; I haven't yet brought myself to pry open my eyelids feel the crust from all the hours cracking and flaking off, but I finally do it anyway, forcing myself to blearily take in my surroundings.\n\nThree two liters of Mountain Dew. A box from a Pizza Hut large size. More McNugget containers than I want to count, or rather, know the quantity of. Jesus, I wasn't going to do this to myself anymore.\n\nMy eyes go to the monitor, still glowing as it has been since about this time yesterday. I click login.\n\nMy character menu loads up. Within thirty seconds my avatar is approached by another and an alert bearing my character's name appears above the menu.\n\n\"Andwiss - lvl 30 mage Abronaff wants to fuck!\" \n\nI consider it. \n\nI grab my periphral from the desk, check that it's plugged into the usb, and affix the apparatus to my genitals. \n\nOf course I'll never quit doing this to myself. And neither will anyone else, ever. Why would you, when you can have sex in WoW now?", "Select spell specialization for the day: Fire, Nature, Wind\n\n‘I have been playing way too much Skyrim. Well, I’m probably really sick and hallucinating, but I think I’ll go with Nature’.\n\nSelect daily quest: PvP, Fetch quest, Escort quest.\n\n‘That wasn’t it? These are some sophisticated hallucinations. Well, fetch and escort quests are lame, so I guess it’s PvP.\n\nYou are now entering PvP arena. Warning, numerous dwarves in the area, use caution.\n\n‘Numerous dwarves? That seemed politically incorrect.’ The menu disappeared, and at the bottom appeared two bars, one red, and one blue. That was it, no more video games for a week. I had to get to work.\n\nThe sound of smashing glass stopped me halfway through brushing my teeth. An intruder! Oh shoot, maybe if I was quiet they’d go away. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and I could see the shadowy outline of what looked like a blunderbuss on the wall. A blunderbuss? Seriously, these were some lame home invaders. My eye caught a spider web out of the corner of my eye, and I found myself wishing it were poisonous, then it could kill my invaders before they shot me.\n\nUse spell, summon spiders. What? I’m still hallucinating, and it must be getting worse because the walls are now crawling with spiders, and they’re big, and have red eyes, and giant fangs. I scream like a little girl as I climb onto the sink to get away from them.\n\nThen I hear screaming coming from the hallway, low pitched, vaguely Scottish screaming. I peak out, and see a couple of short bearded man with steam punk weaponry fall to the ground and disappear.\n\n+3 points. Well, if this was a hallucination. I would milk it to the bitter end! \n\nPermadeath enabled. Wait what? No, no, undo undo! No permadeath. \n\nSorry. Oh ha ha, now what was I gonna do? A dragon’s roar from outside brought my attention, and I ran to the window. \n\nDeathbringer, level 100 beastmaster, has entered the arena. Maybe I could get the drop on him? Turn some giant ants on him or something. \n\nYourdoom, level 100 angelic wizard has entered the arena. \n \nActuallysatan, level 100 dwarf gunsmith has entered the arena. \n\nWell, it was fun while it lasted.\n\nEdit:Copypasted this from word, caused numerous issues, currently trying striking with a hammer.\n\nEdit 2: Phew, got it sorted, enjoy!" ]	2
	[WP] You wake up one morning to find that, instead of birds, tiny dragons are flying around outside.	[ "My eyes crack open. The room is filled with light. \n\n\"Crap, is it Monday already?\"\n\nI groan as i slowly get up from my bed... I look around. The room is a damn mess. Empty bottles lie on the floor. It was one of those nights. ever since she left, I drown my sorrows in alcohol. I can stop whenever i want, i just don't want to stop...\n\n\"Well, might as well go to work...\" Ugh, my head is killing me. Too much Jack. No, actually, there is no such thing as too much Jack, is it? Whatever, Monday is not a good day to debate abstract ideas.\n\nI head towards the window, and look outside. The city is grey and cold as always.I should never left my home town... Nothing good happens here. you don't even hear the birds this morning... Wait, actually, that is odd. There were always some sparrows and some pigeons around. What happened? And... what the hell is that?\n\nOutside a green, scaly creature flies above the neighboring building... It's large, with a long neck and head, and a long tail.It has... bat wings? It looks like a... dragon? What?\n\n\"No... Nope... No. no no.\" \n\nF**k it. I have to stop drinking. I'm going back to bed. Screw this. \n\nI slowly walk towards the bed, and jump in, face first in the pillow. I'll just wait until the booze wears off. I'll call in sick later.", "I didn't actually wake up at the sound of the alarm clock, only halfway through my morning shower. Mondays suck. Especially this Monday. I was not looking forward to going into work today.\n\nI dried off and put on some clothes in a stupor, not knowing exactly which clothes I put on. I'll find out later. I walked downstairs and poured myself a bowl of Mystery Cereal, since I didn't bother looking at the box, and took a bite. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I've done worse.\n\nI carry my bowl with me to the window and looked at the bird feeder and was instantly alert. Usually, there's birds sitting there, eating the seed, right?\n\nNo.\n\nI saw three little dragons sitting on the feeder, eating the seed as if they belonged there. One of them pushed another off, who quickly flew back to another side of the feeder.\n\nI watched them for a few moments, not moving a muscle, mouth stuck halfway open. One of them noticed me, gave a smoke-filled huff, and went back to his feed.\n\nI put my bowl down, walked back up the stairs, and got into bed. Nope. Not doing this. Not today.", "It was just another summer day. From the time I woke up at noon to when I felt like eating in the evening, I remained within the boundaries of my apartment with windows and doors closed. I grabbed my wallet and keys and set out for a meal at a restaurant. \n\nAs I approached my car, there was a weird, almost frighting shadow on the wall in front of me. The size of a human and the shape of a reptile with wings. I reluctantly turned fearing the worst. It was a small dragon, the size of a bird sitting on the path from the main light. \n\nIn utter amazement, I stood for about a minute before approaching the beast. Mark, a neighbor from the same floor as me, came out of the lift and greeted me in his usual obnoxious voice. The reptilian beast flew some distance above me as I ducked expecting a flame.\n\n\"My word, who knew? You are scared of birds.\", remarks Mark. I stared at him in shock and then figured he must have not noticed the dragon. \"That was not a bird Mark. That was a dragon! It had reptilian qualities on it.\"\n\nWith a look of disbelief, Mark said, \"That was a bird. Dragons are mythical creatures with feathers that breath fire. Is this another of your jokes man. Haha, you always get me.\"\n\nI could not believe what I had just heard. I hesitantly concurred and shrugged it off thinking Mark must be drunk again and the dragon must be some sort of bat.\n\nAs I drove my car out of the garage, I could not believe my eyes. There were actual mini-dragons flying in the sky. In the midst of a combination of confusion and fright, I made a turn and returned to my apartment.\n\nI opened my laptop to search up what was up and wikipedia as well as other websites claim that dragons are indeed birds, and birds are dragons. How could this be? Have I somehow ended up in a parallel universe with only minor differences? If so, what other differences, if any, were there in this new world? Or was I going insane?\n\nI made my way to r/nosleep and the top post was about how birds and dragons had switched in my world. Even weirder, the post was from an hour ago and it from me.", "“And in other news, yet another gun store has reported their entire stock has completely rusted through. ‘They’re utterly useless now, and we have no idea why’. Says the store owner.” I’m listening to this report on the radio, because all TV and internet is down. I needed to know what was going on with the tiny flying reptiles I had seen this morning, but no one had mentioned them yet.\n\nI spend every minute listening to the radio because the signal was becoming more and more overwhelmed with static. I’ve already had to switch stations three times because the signal went entirely to static and didn’t come back. I wasn’t sure if I could find another station.\n\n“A group of…..” Static whiteout. “Came riding through just now apparently chasing…” I couldn’t hear a thing. I wait patiently for a few seconds, slap the radio, and then scan through the whole frequency range of the device, nothing. Well, that’s it then. Cell phone is dead, none of my other electronics are working, and now the radio is out. What was happening?\n\nWas this an invasion? I heard something about EMPs being a first step to an invasion. That didn’t explain the guns rusting over, but it was a start anyway. Or perhaps all of this was a terrorist attack. I was suddenly glad I had brought my bow with me, and had just zeroed the site on it. At the very least I would be prepared for looters.\n\nI heard a galloping noise outside. Horses? I lived in suburbia, what were horses doing here? I nocked an arrow and cracked open my door. An invading army would also have their electronics knocked out too, so of course they would bring horses.\n\nI open the door to see a full dozen knights in full plate male, including armored horses, galloping down the street. They have a mixture of lances, swords, bows, axes, and pikes. One of them sees me peeking out the door and waves to me.\n\n“You there, peasant with the bow, come hither!” Peasant? Come hither? Well, if someone was invading, at least it was England, and they seemed friendly enough. I trotted over just as another flight of the small little flying reptiles flew by. Was there some local zoology experiment?\n\n“What’s up?” I ask the knight. His friends have galloped on, but he’s got a spare horse with him.\n\n“We are hunting dragon m’boy. Have you any skill with that bow?” I practically scoffed at him. M’boy? I had been using bows since practically before I could walk. I took note of the bow on his back. I would show him whose M’boy.\n\n“I can take you any day. Two foot concentric circle target at fifty paces?” I ask.\n\n“Later perhaps, but I can see you have spirit and confidence enough. Up lad, we must be after the beast!” Dragons was it? Things had been weird today, but there was no chance I was about to start believing in.\n\n“FIRE!!!!” Several of my neighbors shouted. A giant fireball exploded my house, sending me diving as shrapnel filled the air. An ear splitting roar shook the ground, and I turned my head to see a fifty foot version of the small blighters that had buzzed through earlier.\n\n“Is that horse for me?” I ask the knight.\n\n“If you have the courage.” He taunted.\n\n“Then let’s ride.”\n\nEdit: spelling" ]	4
	[WP] As you are hosting a feast on the eve of your coronation, you are informed that some rival intends to assassinate you and usurp your throne. The attack will likely come during your dinner. Describe your interactions with guests at the party.	[ "\"Sire please listen you must take ...\" \"James you took care of me for years it is time to let me face my eneimes head on.\" \"but you could die, and...and\" \"I do not fear death my old friend\" \"and I could lose the light of my life.\" \"I know James I have always known, but this is not the place.\"\"Sire I beg of you\" \"do not beg it is unbecoming of a person of your staus, it is in the gods hands now. And do not fret my my freind for tonight we shall have words, long passionate words.\" As you commanded \nmy prince.\"", "Too many shadows. Way too many shadows in the corners of the room. Not that it would matter too much, our dear lord assasin will just walk to greet me and then - slashslash - open my throat. Or toast to my health, hand me cup, and grin at me. Or one of my knights could have been bribed - Beautrelet has a gambling problem, Chenelse is quite mad anyway and Flambeur just likes to kill people. Or just a bolt from the window above, clean for them, messy for me. \nMust not sweat. Keep doing the rounds, greet the lords, kiss the ladies - just on the hands obviously, even though I'd love to kiss some of them elsewhere. They are the most dangerous - so much space to hide poison! Just a small needle, one dab, my dear brother is king. \nJust a shadow over there, no one in that corner. People are looking, keep smiling. \"Lord Beautrelet! I am so glad you could make the long trip! Your son, my staunchest protector, does you honor! Your wife is as beautiful as ever. How was the harvest? Are the peasants behaving?\" Big old bear, could just break my neck before any guard could do a thing. Why is he smiling like that? \n\"Lady Monasse, well met! I hope your husband will return from his campaign shortly and victorious! He is bearing great responsability, but I am sure he will fulfill his task admirably.\" Old fool that, I hope Fitzchiras can keep him from ruining the whole thing. His daughter though... Too bad she isn't a cousin, but as a king I can surely invite her to a hunting trip from time to time. \nI cannot really avoid old Menferne much longer, but damn is that man scary. Just one eye, twitchy one at that, and they say his hobbies include milking poisonous snakes. And he'd really like to see his nephew on the throne. What a coincidence that he is wearing such ample garb today, so many pockets. And here he comes, with a cup of wine. \"To the king!\" I haven't heard that, I'm deep in conversation with duke Flamarge. I frantically try to catch the captain's eye, but he is still eyeing the young Monasse. Can't say I wouldn't do the same. I jump, but it is just Menferne. Just. \"My king! I propose a toast! To a long and prosperous rule, may it be as golden as your father's!\" And hands me the goblet and smirks at me. Think you got me, old fool? \"Lord Menferne, my father always spoke very fondly of you and counted you amongst his most trusted advisors. I hope that I will be able to count un your sage advice in the years to come and that our friendship will be just as fruitful. Let us share this cup, for friendship!\" Hah. What are you going to do now? Cheers all around. He is still smiling. He drinks and hands me the cup. He has an antidote, I am sure. I take the cup, take a sip, it burns in my mouth. I take a step sidewards, stumbling into Flamarge, clumsily spilling the wine and spitting out the one I have in my mouth as well. Most of it soaks through Flamarge, who does not look pleased. Doesn't matter, still alive. \"Lord Flamarge, I am deeply sorry. The wine from your estates is just too good to pass on, so I haven't been able to refuse a single cup this evening.\" Smooth. Menferne is still smiling, the bastard. \nMonasse's daughter is giggling, not really the effect I was going for. The captain is still raptly staring at her, useless bastard. \nThe younger Beautrelet is coming for me, hand on his sword. I think he usually does that as well, but right now I am not so sure. I try to escape towards the food, pushing people aside. \"Excuse me, excuse me...\" Beautrelet has a dark look on his face and can follow right through the path I have taken through the massed nobility. \"My king.\" My back is right to the table, to way to escape. I feel for the dagger in my belt, ready to toss myself aside and stab at him. I wish I had chainmail. He comes closer, I am ready to bolt. \"We caught the assasin.\" \"What?\" \"A stableboy was found, gravely hurt. Evidently the killer left him for dead. He was able to describe him before dying. The assasin had disguised himself as a kitchen helper and was trying to sneak into the ballroom. We cornerned him. He tried to escape and we were not able to capture him. We had to cut him down. Majesty, I am sorry we were not able to extract more information from him.\" \nI grin triumphantly and sweep my gaze over all my loyal underlings. Who looks disappointed? Clapping, cheering, the evening is saved. Now I really need a wine. Menferne is there again, with more wine. This time I let him toast in peace and toss that cup back. Good stuff. I go and find Monasse's daughter, I kiss her hand and offer her my cup of wine. I could drown in those green eyes. Or in wine. Preferrably at the same time. She listens raptly to my conquests and daring tales, laughing at the right moments. And she likes the wine too. I keep mingling happily, enjoying the cup Monasse gave me. \nStrong stuff. Stronger than I thought. King shouldn't get too drunk, that's what uncle said. Why not. Am the king. Everybody else is a pawn. Really warm in here. shouldtake my shirtoff. toohot, thingsspinning floorniceandcoolooohthoseyeslookingatmeimdrowning", "I stood, glass still raised in the air, and a small, cool grin on my lips.\n\nThe knights standing around the banquet table could only stare at me, their mouths hung in horror.\n\nThis only made my smile widen.\n\n\"Come, brothers of the court,\" I repeat, \"and dine with your new king.\"\n\n\"S-sire,\" one of my knights stammered at me from across the table. \"It's only... well... I... but your majesty!\"\n\nHis gibbering almost made me laugh, but I stopped myself. Instead I quickly took my seat, and to my amusement the rest of the knights did likewise, out of habit, if nothing else. Yet all looked warily at the grand fest before them: roasted duck, sauteed pig, rack of lamb, and the finest breads and cheeses in the land, vintage wine from the sweetest vines, and all of it lain in the finest crystal tableware, shimmering like frosted glass under the chandelier light.\n\nThe only thing that might ruin the atmosphere was that very large drum of poison I'd ordered prior to the feast. I made sure it was wheeled right through the castle proper and taken up into the main kitchen, for all to see. Once behind the kitchen doors no eyes knew what was done with it.\n\nNo eyes but mine. \n\nIt was enough to make each man very nervous.\n\nHopefully it would make the knight who planned on killing me even more nervous.\n\nI spread my hands around the table, looking each of my knights in turn, and my grin is gone. In its place is the coldest steel. When I speak, I bellow so that my voice echoes against the stone walls of the room:\n\n\"Are you not my knights?\" I shout.\n\n\"Yes, majesty!\" They all obediently reply, reflexively.\n\n\"And do you not believe in the honor of the king's table? Do you not believe in the word of the one who wears the crown?\"\n\n\"Yes, we do!\" Again, a reflexive refrain.\n\nMy smile slowly returns, and again I lift a glass:\n\n\"Then know, knights of my court, that I believe in you. This is why I have no fear, sharing a table with you honest men. Know, knights, that no dishonest man need have any fear of supping at this table. And trust, knights, that your king would not betray the confidence of his loyal men.\"\n\nI bring my glass to my lips and drink heartily, and as I do I look every knight in turn. Their faces betray their fear, but none say another word. When I pull the glass down from my lips I whisper into the room:\n\n\"Good knights: here, there is no danger to any of you. But woe to any sinner in our midst. His fate would be... unenviable...\" I turn the glass in my hand, staring at the fine crystal finish, and my lips curl with a demonic grin.\n\nHonor-bound, the knights have little choice but to join me in the uneasy feast, and it was then that my nerves betrayed me. I could feel sweat forming at the nape of my neck. My lips dried, and I confess that I licked them most nervously. I watched the knights feast, made small talk with them all, and pretended that all was well.\n\nIt wasn't.\n\nOne of them planned to kill me, I knew. One of them lacked honor. The rest, I prayed to God, still bore theirs intact.\n\nIt was the only way they could save themselves.\n\nAfter a time one of the men could bear it no longer- the fake pleasantries and all- and he set his napkin down and stood, eyes wild:\n\n\"Forgive me, majesty, but what farce is this? We all know what you fear, sire, and not a man here would refuse an order to lay down his life for you, I assure you. But is it your goal to poison all in this room, and make us suffer such an ignoble death? Are we to die for your 'hunch' about some phantom assassin?\"\n\nAnother knight leapt to his feet in response, his face flushed:\n\n\"Do not question the king's wisdom, knave!\"\n\nAnother grin forms on my lips as I nod my head slowly:\n\n\"Indeed: none of you should question my wisdom. For now we have discovered our assassin-\"\n\nThe first knight's eyes widened. He stepped back, gesticulating:\n\n\"M- majesty! No: it is not I! I swear it, on my life!\"\n\n\"Do you, really? Well, that is fine. You have proven that it is not you,\" I reply. \"And you've proven it on your life...\"\n\nThe knight blinks in confusion.\n\n\"I... I do not understand.\"\n\nI look to the second knight- my 'defender'- the one with the flushed face, and my icy eyes bore into his:\n\n\"Killer,\" I whisper, \"you have betrayed yourself.\"\n\nThe knight shakes his head:\n\n\"My lord: I defend your wisdom-\"\n\n\"With your tongue,\" I snap, \"whist looking for a place to plunge a dagger in my back!\"\n\nThe knight steps away from the table, tugging at his collar, sweating bullets from his brow. His lips twitch as he speaks:\n\n\"I am loyal unto death. And if you're so sure, majesty, then rise before all here assembled and kill me, yourself!\"\n\n\"I already did,\" I whisper. \"Some time ago, in fact.\"\n\nSweat from his brow begins clouding his eyes. The knight wipes at his face, suddenly realizing that his skin prickles with gooseflesh. His breathing becomes labored, and he staggers, struggling for breath. The man collapses against his seat, and very soon after draws his last breath.\n\nThe knights stare at this scene in horror, while I can only stand and raise my glass:\n\n\"Good knights of the court,\" I say, \"the honor you bring to this table is mine to cherish...\"\n\nWithout another word I leave the table and retreat to my chambers. The royal guards inspect the dead knights personal effects in his room and soon find enough evidence to reveal him as the true assassin. I only hear this from my servants; I do not wish to make another appearance in public, this evening.\n\nIt's not two hours before I'm disturbed, however. The knight who questioned me at the table enters my sitting room, head hung, and hands me his sword:\n\n\"I have failed you, sire,\" he says. \"My honor was surely not great enough.\"\n\nI smile and press the sword back into his hands, shaking my head.\n\n\"Your honor saved your life, tonight,\" I say. \"And it will serve our kingdom well, in the future.\"\n\nThe knight only nods graciously and makes to leave me sitting alone in my armchair. He lingers behind the chair, however, and as he does a smile rises on my face:\n\n\"You wish to know how I did it, exactly?\" I ask.\n\n\"Yes, majesty.\"\n\n\"I didn't.\" I look around the corner of the chair. \"You did. All of you solved the riddle for me tonight, sir knight. Even the guilty had his place in my scheme.\"\n\nThe knight blinked in confusion:\n\n\"But... you couldn't possibly have known whom to poison, could you, majesty?\"\n\nI shake my head.\n\n\"No,\" I whisper. \"And so I did the only sensible thing. I poisoned everybody.\"\n\nThe knight stepped back:\n\n\"But... but only the villain amongst us suffered the effects! We all ate the food, majesty-\"\n\n\"Correction: the men of honor, trusting their king's word, ate the food tonight. There's always little things one can do at a polite dinner table to disguise one's reluctance to try the cuisine. Sips of wine that don't go down the throat, bits of food taken into a mouth, then removed with the dainty wipe of a napkin across the lips-\"\n\nThe knight's confusion only grew:\n\n\"But, if he didn't eat the poisoned food-\"\n\n\"I didn't poison the food,\" I explained. \"I poisoned the glassware: a nice invisible powder, sinks right into the skin like water through a colander. And thus all who touched the tableware bore death in their blood, this evening.\" \n\nWhen I look up at the knight I've got another little smile, and I must admit, this one had some pride behind it:\n\n\"You see: the food had no poison. It had the antidote.\"" ]	3
	[WP] Humanity has developed the technology that makes them immortal. To avoid overpopulation, all but those who can prove that they're worth keeping alive are 'purged' when they turn 100. Today is your 100th birthday	[ "100 years + plus 5 days\n\nFive days ago, I was supposed to report to Centrol. There, like all who turned 100 years old, my fate would be decided. \n\nFor the past two centuries, the government of the United Western Powers (UWP) has been able to stop the aging process. Most people have their aging stop somewhere between 35 and 50. My aging was stopped at 45. Given the beating my body has taken over the past week, I wish I was ten years younger.\n\nIn order to keep world population down, most people are put to sleep at the age of 100, but a chosen few, perhaps 5%, are granted a reprieve of another 100 years.\n\nI was a likely candidate for reprieve. A war hero, college professor and three term mayor of my town, I’ve spent my 100 years on this Earth about as well as I could. Maybe I’m optimistic and a bit egotistical, but I’ve put my chances at 50/50 entering the Centrol of getting my next 100 years.\n\nBut 50/50 aren’t odds I’m willing to accept. I just found out that sometime about six months from now, my daughter, your mom, is going to give birth to my first grandchild. I want to hold you in my arms before I die. \n\nSo five days ago, I didn’t show up for my noon appointment at the Centrol. In fact, I was on the road two weeks before my meeting with the committee was scheduled.\n\nI don’t know if my odds of getting caught are better or worse than my odds at the Centrol, but at least my fate is in my own hands. After three attempts to catch me (twice human and once robotic) I seem to have evaded them for the moment.\n\nSteven: My daughter has already told me that you’ll be named after me. No matter when I’m captured, this journal is for you. Even though we haven’t met, I love you. I can only hope I have the chance to pass this writing along in person. \n\nYou should know that given the choice between flipping a coin to live another 100 years or struggling to live for six more months, your grandfather thought the struggle was worth it. It’s part of being human. ", "Monologue format (very rough draft):\n\n\"Death, the foreign yet familiar concept us mortals all know and fear. We wish to ignore it when it nags on minds. We wish to forget that another day has gone by. We wish to remember that there will always be a tomorrow. We wish to be free, but we fear to speak out. Most will never address this as direct as I, but each of you know that what I say is true. We all live without a life to lose and lose it without an extra life to give. \n\n\n\nDoes this meaninglessness live up too your belief of what it means to live? I hope you are screaming inside your heads that this can not be true! It can not be true that I have spent all these years with such a limited scope. It can not be! But it is. It is true and you know it just as I do. You know that time is ticking away and we all waste most of it. But not all of it. \n\n\nHumanity knows that is has to accept this wasted time. We know that there is more to life than time itself, we know that there is something worth living for even if we don't live forever. We live for love, discussion, acceptance, creativity, acknowledgement, and most importantly ourselves. We live to make our lives better and in doing so we have learned that we benefit ourselves by helping one another. These reasons to live have filled my life with enough wonderful memories, that even If I do die tomorrow, I will die happy. The question I now have for you, do I need to die?\n\n", "Two days before my 100th birthday I had a big party with friends, family and a whole lot of chocolate cake. I will miss chocolate cake. Of course there is always a chance that tomorrow, on my birthday, I will be granted the opportunity to live forever. I wonder how the chocolate cake will be in a thousand years. I wonder how much of my family and friends will remain in a hundred years. If I had to guess? A large percentage of them would still be around. The people I surround myself with are top academics and they are a whole lot more hard working than I am. I wonder what they will be up to in a hundred years. My father will probably be halfway triple digits for the amount of wives he's had. Steve and Katie might finally have settled down after their years of travelling. It was nice to see them again, glad they managed to make it. In a 100 years the colonies beyond earth might be done. There might be enough room for everyone to continue their existence indefinitely. I would know tomorrow whether I would live to see the day.\n\n\nBut I choose not to know. I have lived my life to the fullest for the past fifty years, knowing that it would end some day. The day has come, my life is ending on my terms. 99 years and 364 days was long enough.\n", "Rings of her golden hair bounce with vitality. I am cursed to love a younger woman, and she weeps for my memory. Her hazel eyes are bloodshot from tears, and melancholy wears on her shoulders. A judge has beckoned me to enter his chamber, alone, his gravel voice pulling us apart from our last hug. Who will comfort her when her trial arrives?\n\nI enter a grand room with modern windows to my left. The sky, clouded, compliments the grey aisle and short slate desk. The judge motions me to sit, though he carefully stays behind the barrier. \n\n\"My role is to share the jury's verdict.\" He speaks deliberately. \"You will not be kept alive.\"\n\nIt was no surprise. Only the greatest mystics received the gift of ongoing youth. Mere mortals are too replaceable, too limited, and the lottery of birth will profit more geniuses than the growing wisdom of age. \n\n\"What about Melissa?\" \n\n\"Her trial will happen in nine years.\" \n\nI stare thru him. \"There was no jury today. You've known my verdict for many years.\"\n\nEmpathy draws the judge into a nod. \n\n\"So you know her verdict.\"\n\nThe judge hesitates, but finally nods. I don't need another question.\n\n\"You are wrong. I might not deserve to live, but she does... the world deserves her.\" \n\n\"You'll see her again, when -\"\n\n\"Don't condescend to me with talk of God!\" I rise to my shaking legs, my fists on the desk and my eyes narrowing. \"Only the mystics, the truly gifted... like the judges.\" These last words trembled with vitriol. \"You can't tell me the Earth needs you and not her!\"\n\nHe rose, meeting my eyes with paternal conviction. \"Demeter needs her.\" The sun beamed thru the grand windows. \"Demeter needs you.\"\n\nA door opposite from my entrance opened on cue. The judge took a few steps in that direction before turning, gesturing with a head nod for me to follow. This non sequitur, vaguely familiar, cut thru me and leveled my emotions. I took a few cautious steps.\n\nThis new room! If the last room was grand, this new ambiance was overwhelming! Onyx and jade pillars imposed for hundreds of meters into the distance. Mahogany shelves lined the right wall, exquisitely carved and fully stocked with a library that Alexandria would envy. On the left, modern windows kept their bold style and golden sunlight lent a mystical aura. The ceiling had to be a hundred meters overhead!\n\n\"You'll be in deep sleep for your 55 year transit.\" I startled to hear the judge speak again. \"You'll wake up with this 25 year old body and age until your natural death. Demeter is terraformed, but you'll be among the first fleets to colonize her.\"\n\n\"... And if I refuse\" I asked, having already decided against it.\n\n\"You'll be restrained and sent anyway.\"\n\n\"And Melissa?\"\n\n\"Will be nine years behind. A little less, probably, as our mystics improve the ships in the interim.\"\n\nHe offered a handshake, I accepted. He spoke of the land masses on Demeter, the plentiful rivers and Mediterranean climate, and the quiet vistas of the highlands. He dwelled for quite some time on those highlands, describing the misty lakes and cool winds like he was remembering his home. As the sun set, he smiled and directed me to the far wall. A comfortable looking box lay just off the floor like caskets from the history books. He gestured for me to lie down, then pulled the transparent lid over me. I heard a hiss as an air seal formed, then a sleepy feeling rose within me. \n\nA final question occurred to me. \"How long has it been since your trial?\"\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, \"the time really fades together. I suppose it's been a little over 250 million years.\" It was at that moment I noticed that he towered nearly a hundred meters above me and was adapted for an aquatic lifestyle. I said, \"dammit monstah, I ain't giving you no tree fiddy!\" He looked disappointed as he walked back towards his office.\n\nI let out a deep sigh and allowed myself to grow tired. As consciousness departed, I dreamed of rings of golden hair, bouncing with vitality. \n\nEdit: grammer", "\"Mister, this is the Purge Committee, please open the door.\" \n\"One minute\", I told them, adjusting my tie and putting on my socks. \n\nI kissed Janet on the cheek. She's crying, but hey, it's life. Gotta end it one day. Being immortal? Yeah not for me thanks. I saw all those people in their offices, trying to show the Committee they're so worthy of living a life of thousand years. A race for vanity and shallowness. \n\nI opened the door. Two young men - well, technically, they're much older than me - enjoined me to wear the pair of suppressing gloves they handed to me. I did. The gloves activated, and I couldn't move my arms anymore. They took me to their black car. I sat on the back seat. They drove me to the Committee HQ. \n\n-- \n\n\"Well, you sure take the thing well, Mr. Anderson. Most people just try to flee, to escape their fate. But not you.\" \n\nThe voice came from the passenger seat. \n\n\"Why should I worry about dying? I've lived a really good life. Time to let the young live.\" \n\nThe man said nothing. I think he disagreed with me. \n\nWe arrived at the Committee HQ. A bunch of hostesses greeted me, thanked me for contributing to the world, and directed me to the deactivation machine. No hesitation from me. I walked up to the machine, smiled, and sat down into the machine, closing the door behind me. \n\nI hear nothing but the sound of me breathing. My eyes were closed. I waited patiently for my last time on this earth. \n\n-- \n\n... \n\n5 minutes. It's a little long... What are they waiting for? \n\n-- \n\n... \n\n8 minutes. Please, would someone deactivate me now? ... Wait, what is that sound? I hear something like... An explosion? What the... \n\nThe door opened suddently. A hand plunged into the cabin, ripped off the safety belt, and forced me out of the machine. \n\n\"What is going on...\" I grumbled, quite irritated by the fact that I'm still not deactivated. \n\nMy eyes got used to the sunlight. I could finally see who disturbed my final slumber. A rugged man, in a ragged shirt and military pants, holding me by my arm, and addressing me a warm smile. \n\n\"We came to free you, comrade!\" \n\nHe showed me the laser gun he was holding in his other hand, and then the chaotic display of a destroyed building. The Purge Committee HQ had been ravaged. People were lying unconscious, scattered between the ruins of what was the most important place of the city. Some other people were standing victoriously, still bringing down any element that could refer to the Committee, like flags or advertising. They looked really similar to the colossus who still didn't let go of me. \n\nStill in the blue, I didn't understand what was going on. Only the intervention of a tall woman with an assault rifle helped me figure out the whole picture. \n\n\"We're the Freedom From Purge Commando! Our mission today was to destroy this horrible slaughterhouse! And we came just in time to save you.\" \n\n\"But I didn't ask anythi-\" \n\n\"Everyone, a hurrah for the survivor!\" \n\nAll the members of the FFPC rose their right fist to the sky and yelled a triumphant hurrah. The burly man finally let my arm go before he did irreversible damage to my bones. But he didn't let ME go. His giant hand landed on my shoulder. Still smiling from cheek to cheek, his deep voice shook me to the core: \n\n\"Now, the horror is over. Join us in our fight. You are welcomed here.\" \n\nWhat? But I didn't want to be saved! I just wanted to be deactivated... I don't want to fight for their cause! I want the opposite! \n\n\"I... I think I'm... You see...\" I stammered. How to refuse such a proposition with such an eager man right in front of you? He looked at me with insistance, like he was waiting for me to say the good words. The words he wanted to hear. \n\nAfter a few seconds, I surrendered. \n\n\"Hum... Okay...\" I said. \n\nThe first emotion that filled me was happiness. Seeing all those tough men and women laughing and smiling was really satisfying. \n\nThe second emotion was regret. Did I just gave up all I had in my life, even my own death, to join people I didn't know to fight for a goal I didn't share, with methods I didn't approve? Yes. Yes I did. \n\nFor a moment, I almost came back on my words. I almost quitted. That would have been the most reasonable thing to do. But then the deep voice from before spoke those words: \n\n\"Do not worry. The FFPC members are more than friends. They are family. The things you lost, they are lost. But you can still find new ways to live your life. New people to see, to laugh with, to share things with, and to fight with! You have the right for a second chance! So like I said, do not worry. For we're here with you.\" \n\nI still worried. Worried for my family. What would happen now? Would I be marked as defector? Are they going to be sent in jail? Tracked until they got me? I was worried. But maybe someone up there did send me this opportunity to make sure they would be all right. Janet, Oliver, Marcus... I can't live with them anymore. But I can do everything in my power to protect them. And at that moment, I realized FFPC was my only chance to make it right to them. \n\nUntil then, I had never been useful for the human community. Now, I had all the cards in my hand to make my life worthy of being lived. To make the lives of the people I cared for the best possible. \n\n\nThis is the story of how I got into this band of crazy goons at the FFPC, and the beginning of a marvelous adventure.", "“I was never asked if I wanted to be born. Now you expect me to argue against my death? What makes you believe it’s worth the effort?\n\n“You expect me to cling to life after spending decades feeling dead. There’s no pain. There’s no struggle. There’s no fear. We’re all just going through the motions. Now you tell me that of all the people walking the Earth, my existence is the one that must be justified. ‘Ooh, we might run out of water!’ you say. So what? That just keeps us breathing. That doesn’t make us real. That doesn’t make us human. That. Isn’t. Living.\n\n“We wake up, we execute our productive hours, and we go home. I’ve done that for one hundred years, just like everyone else here today. And I’m tired. Do you understand how boring we’ve made immortality? Look at what we’ve accomplished in my century of life. We’ve colonized other planets. We’ve harvested asteroids and comets. We’ve made technological leaps that our ancestors would’ve called the fevered dreams of madmen.\n\n“And what do we do with it? Nothing. We don’t go home and marvel at what we’ve accomplished. We don’t look at those triumphs and draw the strength to carry on in the face of our own obstacles. We have no obstacles. There’s nothing left to overcome. We’ve conquered death. We can wait out anything else that comes our way. That hasn’t brought us closer together. That hasn’t made us happy. It’s made us lazy and docile and isolated. We are the pinnacle of humanity, and survival comes down to bureaucracy. No one cares about their existence. They just want it validated. Can’t you hear evolution screaming at us? Can’t you feel that pull, that relentless need to be something greater than this?\n\n“No, you can’t. I see it in your eyes. You’ve moved beyond that. You’ve accepted inertia. And all it cost you was that fragile spark, the thing that makes us miraculous. Well, gentlemen, I won’t beg. I won’t even ask. I’d tell you to stop wasting my time, but something tells me you don’t know what that means.”\n", "Papers in hand, he walked through the brightly lit corridors of an echoing marble tunnel. An old mouselike man hobbling down to his final destination. Room 315. This was it. He knocks. A voice slithers through the crack of the door \"Come in.\"\n\nThe man opens the door gently. A pair of flashing glasses behind a desk greets him with a smile. In the corner of the room is a round polished chamber.\n\n\"Ah, Mr. Petrikov. My name is Francis. Happy 100th! I'm sure you can already guess what the committee has deliberated. I'd just like to say–\"\n\n\"No, please.\" the ancient man stuttered. \"Please. I don't want to do this.\"\n\n\"You know we need to. Just think. What would the world be like if we didn't follow this policy? Where would we be? Disease. Poverty. It's because we follow this procedure that we can live the way we do.\"\n\n\"But I can't. I don't deserve this.\" Petrikov pleaded.\n\n\"Oh, but you do.\"\n\n\"What about my wife? My kids?\"\n\n\"I think you know the answer to that Mr. Petrikov... Now please, step into the chamber so we can be on our way. Please don't make me call security. None of us wants that.\"\n\nDefeated, the old man lets out one last sigh. Pushing back tears he climbs through into the sphere, knowing that this was the end.\n\nThere's a flash of light. Blinding.\n\nValdmir Petrikov emerges from the sphere in youthful form– his old aches and pains replaced by fresh joints and muscle. He has been chosen to remain. Immortality was now his.\n\nHis friends will turn to ashes. His children will crumble to dust. His wife will die. Everything he has known will change until it is unrecognizable, a distorted figure of what he once held dear. Time will pass until he forgets their faces. But he will remain.\n\n\"There we go Mr. Petrikov. You didn't think we'd let the world's greatest mind go and die on us did you?\"\n\n\"No...\" Vladmir whispered distractedly, looking at the eternity that awaited him.", "\"You may not believe it, but just a century and a half ago, people never stopped aging.\" \n\"Really, Grandpa?\" Asked Jolene, her pale blonde hair glistening in the morning sunlight that shone through the window. \nAaron took a sip of his coffee. \"Really,\" he replied. \nJolene wasn't buying it. She squinted her blue-grey eyes skeptically while she shoveled more scrambled eggs into her mouth. \"What happens when you get old forever?\" \n\"Well, they teach you about it in third grade, so you'll learn about it next year anyway.\" Aaron answered, dismissively. \n\"So it's for real, then? I mean, they didn't have EverKeep back then?\" Jolene asked, wide-eyed. \nAaron deliberated. What a touchy subject for a seven year-old, especially on a day like today. But he had known when he was six, and what was there to lose anyway? \nSo he told Jolene across the dining table about life before EverKeep. He was surprised that she already had a decent understanding of the nature of it, although it was common knowledge that the injections start in utero, and then once yearly each birthday. Everyone got their final injection at 35, holding them at that age for potentially forever, or until they were Purged using CO2 gas for a gentle euthanasia on their 100th. Criminals and useless people were Purged by choice of an elected jury. If they were good, and useful to society, they were kept instead. Her eyes grew wider as he told her about the days when the Preserving technology didn't exist. People kept getting old, even past 35. They got wrinklier and wrinklier, and their organs failed. Sometimes they could borrow an organ from a dead body if theirs didn't work anymore. They got diseases that could kill them, no matter how young or old they were. Even babies died. \nJolene's innocent eyes grew wider and wider as Aaron explained these things to her. Most shocking to her was when he told her that he had known some of the last Agers, had seen their bodies cripple and deteriorate. Everkeep didn't work retroactively. \n\"Grandpa,\" Jolene started, with her eyes fixed on the table in front of her, \"are they gonna keep you or no?\" \n\"Well, I got in some trouble a few months ago, you know.\" \nJolene's brow furrowed. \n\"You know that Jim and I, well, we planted some explosives in the Everkeep facility downtown. And, uh, the building was just about destroyed.\" \n\"Grandpa,\" Jolene cried, \"Why would you blow up the EverKeep? They might have kept you before, but now you're in trouble!\" There were hot tears streaming down her red cheeks. \nAaron reached out his hand and placed it over hers. \"My love,\" he said, \"immortality is a cage.\"\n\n" ]	8
	[WP] A man dies in the wild and his soul escapes to an animal's body	[ "What was that? God, it hurts...Son of a bitch it hurts what was that? God I hate my luck, well, bad luck might be the right word. I can't breath, I can't breath, shit...fuck was that...my head...I...\n\nI love blueberries...Oh, look salmon!\n\nI love salmon...\n\nOh god what is this, fins!? I was just bear hunting when Tom, that ass hole shot me...how am I going to bang his wife now? hehehe...Shit what is...\n\nI love salmon\n\n", "Fades out of consciousness.\nSuddenly awakens as a wolf behind a tree with extreme hunger.\nUghhhh. I haven't eaten in days. My word... Is that a dead monkey?\n\nBut there are no monkeys in this part of Canada. It smells really fresh. Oh well, I might as well take a quick sniff.\n\nThere isn't much meat on this thing but I need to eat. \ntakes a few bites and chews the flesh.\n\nI've never eaten whatever this creature is, but it tastes oddly familiar. \n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] A man discovers a countdown to the end of the world. After a car crash leaves him barely alive, he realizes the timer has slowed to a crawl. Watching the timer during the coming weeks, he notices it gets faster as he gradually recovers.	[ "James woke to the sound of ticking again. Steady and monotonous, somewhere deep in the back of his mind. He didn't know how or why he knew this, but the count was important. Every morning it sped just that little bit and he felt a chill down to his bone. The more it sped, the worse the dread. Something terrible would happen, and judging by the pattern, it was happening soon.\n\nWithin a week, he could move his legs again. Not much, but they assured him that something was always better than nothing. Brenda had cried tears of joy when she'd seen and all he could do was smile back. After an hour of smiling and assuring her he would be fine, she drove home and left him sobbing into his pillow. The ticking had sped again.\n\nSlowly but surely, he regained his control. The doctors marvelled at his progress and encouraged him every frame-assisted step of the way. They thought the trembling was just a step in the recovery proccess, but it was more than that. Now, the ticks came one second at a time. He held the watch they'd given him close at all times, listening intently to see if there was a difference between the two. It was only when they took the frame from him that he noticed.\n\nOne week more, and he'd be home again with little more than a walking stick to help him. All his family would ever talk about is how thrilled they were to see him 'up and about' so quickly. They were all so proud of him, they said. He just smiled at them and waved away the compliments. It was nothing definite, he said. Who knows what could happen? They could see that something was wrong, but how could they know? What could they possibly understand? Every moment he had away from them, he listened. Faster and faster.\n\nOne day before his return, and he stood watching the clouds pass from his window. No one had bothered to visit that day, they'd all been busy arranging for tomorrow. His 'homecoming', Brenda called it. However beautiful the clouds, something else watched over from above. Something cold that filled him with dread. Something horrifying. \n\nHe didn't wear his watch anymore. The ticking was little more than a constant rattle now, constantly drilling a space further into his mind for that cold, terrible dread that waited. With tears in his eyes, he finally understood.\n\nHe took a step back from the window, and jumped. Glass shattered under the weight of his body, the front window of a car. The second he felt that pain, that warmth into his body, it slowed. Steady and monotonous, like before.\n\nThey found him sprawled across the front seats laughing, with tears in his eyes.", "The doctor thinks I will be walking again within a couple of months. The surgery to fix my legs is scheduled to happen in a couple of days in fact. That’s not all the good news I’ve had. They say they found a kidney donor too. The whole staff… they all my smile and tell me how lucky I am. Even so, they are all perplexed because I am not nearly as ecstatic as they are.\n\nMy girlfriend, I love her but she keeps pressing me. She knows something isn’t right. I have never been good at hiding anything from her. What am I supposed to do though? How should I feel? The pocket watch I inherited from my father, it has me so rattled. It’s a family heirloom that was given to me with the rest of his belongings after he was killed in a tragic accident at his workplace. I remember that before he died he became so obsessed with it, always checking the time. I could never figure out why because it didn’t even work when I got it. Oddly enough though it started ticking a couple of weeks ago. There was an inscription on the inside of the watch lid that I seemed to have missed before. It said “End of the World”. What is that supposed to mean exactly? Why would something like that be inscribed on a pocket watch?\n\nThe other thing is the watch has never kept time correctly. In fact, there are no numbers, the dial has just kept ticking along in one long rotation. It was three-quarters of the way through the rotation when I got into the accident. Now it is barely moving but it seems to speed up a little more every day. I was about to share the mystery with my girlfriend but the watch seemed to speed up just as I was about to confess my concerns to her. I decided that it’s probably just better to keep quiet for now. It’s superstitious, I know.\n\nI do have a theory. It’s completely crazy. Maybe it’s just the meds playing tricks on me. But what if it’s true? What if the watch is counting down to the end of the world and somehow it’s all tied to me on some strange cosmic level? It can’t be, right? How can I ignore all of the coincidences though?\n\nFirst off, there’s the crazy things going on around the world right now. There was that terrible hurricane that hit Thailand a couple weeks. So many died. Then there is the sudden escalation of tensions in the Mideast that occurred last week. The US, the EU, China, and Russia all have troops in the region now. People are saying the world is on the brink of another World War soon. And then there are the riots, the floods, the comet… Why is it all converging at once?\n\nEven so, what do I have to do with any of that? However, I have been thinking about my dad. They said it was an accident but I have never believed that. The day he died, he called me in the morning. It was out of character, he never called me out of the blue like that. I thought I heard a quivering in his voice when he told me he missed me. He told me how proud he was of me and wanted me to be happy. I figured he was feeling concerned because of the terrorist attacks a few days earlier. Something bugged me though. For some reason, it felt like he was saying goodbye. It wasn’t anything that he specifically said, it was the tone. A few hours later he was gone.\n\nI look at the watch now and wonder. Did he give his life to prevent the end of the world? There’s no way that can be it. But if that’s true then why does it make so much sense to me? I hate thinking about all of this. I feel sick to my stomach, I’m so scared.\n\nIf it is true, what does it mean for me? I could try to destroy the watch but what if that turns out to be a bad idea? I have so many questions but more and more it feels like there is only one answer. The same answer my dad discovered…" ]	2
	[WP] Everyone seems to think our main character is a child. They're not.	[ "Charlotte twirled a curl around her finger and bounced over to the metal slide. Her polka-dotted playdress played with the wind. Charlotte hopped off the big bouncing ball and walked to the nearby benches.\n\n\n\n\"Mommy, can I have my scarfie?\" Charlotte's mother stopped her conversation, un-crossed her legs, and leaned down to readjust Charlotte's headband. The bow always fell a bit to the right. \n\n\n\n\"Not now sweetie, it's not safe to wear scarfie while you're playing.\"\n\n\n\n\"Okay,\" Charlotte said, skipping off toward the swings. She was always such a chipper child. \n\n\n\nAs Charlotte began investigating the way her legs could swing around the ropes on the playset, the temperature reached exactly 51.3 degrees and a single droplet of rain landed on Charlotte's button nose. Her limbs tensed and froze like the hydraulic rigor of a fresh spider corpse. Charlotte's smile eased off her face slowly and slithered around her chin into a sneer. Charlotte's eyes blackened and and grew rotund, bulging from retreating sockets. The eye-orbs pumped out of the sockets in gulps and rests, the frail body jerking with each new extrusion. \n\n\n\nFrom the body, as if pulled through the organs up to and out the eyes, emerged a demon worth the primal screams of the nearby mothers. This was a beast, and she was angry. \n\n\n\nThe rage seeped through her like power. It frothed within her and foamed out her pores. Her eyes were made of bloodlust, her fists writhed in their own fury. She needed to burn the world around her. Char the earth where her foot had trod. Her shell sat before her, depossessed, whimpering like the pathetic mewling beast it was. She kicked it, and laughed at the reddened sky. The trees bent to her will, piercing the body in a thousand places, little chunks of flesh flying out of the sides. She pulls the blood from the shell, it rising in a mist around the leaking blond and flesh mass. She swirls it out slowly, savoring the moment the shell gives way, becomes the deadness that is her domain. \n\n\n\nShe command the blood to paint her bumpy skin, dripping off her demon flesh. She commands the branches to rise and grow above, their thorny vines creating a stand for the morphed shell’s flesh. It will serve as a monument to come, to all that now live in the green and the light. Her eye slits narrow and she licks at a blooddrop running down off her horns, and steps towards the world, destruction in her wake. \n\n\n\nFeel free to correct spelling and grammar, modify or copy the text for your own use, or add on to it.\n", "I kept drawing circles and other scribbles on the newspaper my dad laid out for me. It was boring as a hell but i had to keep up the act. I was five years old now and I was grateful for the mobility and dexterity a reasonably developed young body had. Getting through the first year of my life as a baby was hell, trapped and alone. \n\nIt was weird seeing my parents together again. I knew full well they would divorce but at this point in time they were so happy it was impossible to imagine they would fall apart. I wanted so much to tell them but i knew i couldn't interfere with their lives to that extent. \n\nMy thoughts drifted to my colleagues and how their lives were proceeding. I wouldn't see them again for years, i hoped the intervening isolation wouldn't change us too much. We agree to reconnect after on a specific date and begin our mission. Hopefully Dr. Grey would be ready. It was a huge risk to send back the only other person who knew the inner workings of time travel but her understanding was critical to our success.\n\nTime travel could only send out minds into our own bodies when our brains were first created so we all had to relive our childhood. Dr. Grey said she was looking forward to avoiding all the mistakes she made when she was young. I on the other hand didn't want to interfere with my past. For better or for worse it was a part of me and changing it wouldn't change the memories of how things actually went. I found it ironic that despite my hesitancy to alter my own history, i had no trouble interfering with world history.\n\nI kept scribbling as i focused on the mission, on my 12th birthday, i would begin." ]	2
	[WP] On a day like any other you're in the shower. While shampooing, your finger inexplicably pierces your own skull. After the initial shock wears off you realize that your skull is completely hollow...	[ "\"Crapcrapcrapcrap gotta find a towel, I'm not bleeding thank God, did I forget a towel again? Yep, I forgot the towel again, only got the two this is ridiculous this is the worst...wait, why aren't I bleeding?\"\n\nMost midlife crises occur between the ages of 40 and 50, and entail a longing for something more from one's life or something 'missing'. Though more commonly in the form of the material, this desire can manifest in the physical, mental, ideological, metaphysical ekcetera. \n\nI bought a new kind of shampoo.\n\nAt the age of 27.\n\nWorst idea. Doesn't even smell nice. Ridiculous, I shoulda bought a sports car, real expensive one. Something American... yeah. Didn't though. Doing my head in, so to speak.\n\nAnd as for the speaking, I live alone, and just love the sound of my own voice.\n\n\"FreezingfreezingcoldahhJesus! Note to self, need more small bathroom carpet rugs...toweltoweltoweltoweltowltowtooowellll\"\n\nI look around for the bottle I dropped, my fingers still in my skull. Is it still a skull if it's not made of bone? Prosthetics I guess, maybe I'm an android, or a cyborg or something. Oh man, what if I'm adopted?\n\n...\n\n\"Nah, no way, ridiculous thought. Do I still have thoughts or are they programming now, oh God I mean! oh um, A.I. God\"\n\nI keep babbling on, in case anyone's listening in (cause I'm weird like that), and let the shower run a little longer, juuust until I find something out. Where is that bottle?\n\n\"Ahhh, dammit AHHHHHHHHHH\"\n\nThat wasn't for them, I just got shampoo in my eye, this is excrutiating.\n\nPain subsided a little. Okay, I've found the bottle. Still screaming though, y'know, for cover's sake, I start scanni- reading, *reading* the bottle.\n\nYep, there it is.\n\nRight at the bottom.\n\n'CAUTION NOT FOR DRY SENSITIVE SCALPS ^or ^bone'\n\nSmall print goddammit, everytime.", "I stripped off my dress, stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed behind me. I hit the power button and stood with my face directed into the spray. When my hair was completely wet, I bent down and picked up the shampoo bottle. I poured a little into my palm and began to rub it into my hair.\n\nI worked from front to back, rubbing the shampoo into a good lather and getting it right down to my roots. I was nearly halfway through when I felt my index finger suddenly pierce the skin. It went right in up to the second joint. I could feel no pain, but my finger had gone all the way into my skull. I told myself not to panic and counted to ten while the shock wore off.\n\nI was about to pull my finger out again when I stopped and frowned. I wiggled my finger around a little, but could feel nothing inside my head. Surely there should be something there: fluids, brain tissue, anything. But there was nothing there.\n\nI quickly withdrew my finger from my head and finished washing myself as quickly as possible, my mind racing. I knew there should be something in my head. It was impossible for it to be otherwise.\n\nAs soon as I had finished soaping and rinsing myself, I turned off the shower, got out, and towelled myself dry. Then I pulled on my clothes, which had been piled on the closed toilet seat, and went to the mirror.\n\nIf I tipped my head forward, I could see the tiny hole in my scalp on top of my head, just where my hair parted down the centre. There was no blood, and when I poked at the skin around it, I could feel only normal sensation.\n\nI poked my finger in through the hole again, trying to see if I could feel anything inside. Still nothing. It was as though the inside of my skull was completely hollow. Through the hole, I ran my finger around the inner surface of my head to see what it felt like. It was all smooth, dry bone, as far as I could tell.\n\nI took my finger out again and stared at myself in the mirror. So that was that. My skull was hollow and empty. How was I even still alive? I considered whether to tell my parents. Maybe not such a good idea. I would have to keep this a secret.\n\nI reached up and placed my fingers on either side of the gap. Maybe I could pull the hole closed? I slowly applied pressure, attempting to push the skin around the hole over the gap. I felt it beginning to give.\n\nThen there was a shattering noise and my skull suddenly collapsed inwards beneath my fingers. I felt the shards collecting in the bottom of my skull. I looked up at myself in the mirror and winced. There was now a jagged hole in the top of my head big enough for me to put both hands through together.\n\nCarefully, I leant forward and tipped the shards into the sink. They looked like pieces of broken china, but with long brown hair growing from one side. I grimaced. It would be a lot harder to hide this.\n\nI tipped my head right over and found an angle at which I could see through the hole properly. I saw that the interior of my skull was indeed empty. The inner surface was smooth clean bone, making it feel rather like looking into the inside of a vase. Except for one thing.\n\nI looked closer.\n\nA tiny worried face looked back at me.", "It all made sense. Hollow. For once in my life I understood something. I understood why I kept forgetting my class schedule, why I kept eating crayons even though they made me sick, and why I kept getting gum in my hair (which had actually been why I was showering the first place).\n\nAs I showered, trying to pull another massive gum wad from my head, my finger had poked into my skull. And nothing. No blood, no brain matter, my skull is protecting nothing!\n\nMaybe I inherited this from my parents. That might explain why my dad keeps writing tuition checks for my public high school, or how we all forgot our luggage on vacation, and this might explain how that chainsaw ended my grandfather's life.\n\nThis revelation changed everything for me. If there was nothing in my head that meant there was space for improvement. I wonder if I taze myself, will the electricity stimulate my thinking? I can only try! These revelations kept coming to me, what if I can ferment Kool-Aid into alcohol?! The sky is the limit and I'm an oyster in the world! \n\nAs I stepped out of the shower, I felt more confident. I could ask that girl to prom, I could use those checks my dad keeps writing at the 7-11 down the street, I bet I could even impress my dominance upon my other schoolmates with a certain word that begins with N.\n\nMy name is [Kevin](http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/219w2o/whos_the_dumbest_person_youve_ever_met/cgbhkwp) and today is the day my life begins." ]	3
	[WP] In the spirit of Halloween, write a scary story. No restrictions, no strings attached. Have Fun!	[ "Queen Malvina ties her horse off at a nearby tree, looping the soft leather of the reins over the pine branch. Lifting the cowl of her cloak from her head, she steps underneath the stone overhang and enters the darkness of the cave. With a flick of her fingers she summons a small flame into the palm of her hand, cradling the light as it shines brighter and brighter to illuminate the cavern. It is a graveyard.\n\nThe skeletal remains of thousands of animals litter the stone floor. The antlered forms of giant elk, the width of their horns wider than Malvina's outstretched arms lie strewn across the ground. Elsewhere, great mounds of aurochs form islands among the detritus, massive horns looming like spears from the tangle of bones. Smaller creatures and their remains cover more of the cavern's floor, deer and wild boar and like. And that is not even accounting for the human remains.\n\nHundreds of bodies lay scattered about, cast aside after being mauled or consumed. Once noble knights lie rotted in their rusted chainmail. Swords and spears pitted with corrosion remain grasped in their bony fingers, their bones scorched by acid and venom. Proud banners that once proclaimed their wielder's allegiance lay faded and tattered on splinted staffs, the reds having been turned a subdued pink by time and damp. Regal blues are grey now, the ink having long run out of the silk. The griffons and lions displayed on them just as corroded as their knights. A voice comes from one of the furthest reaches of the cavern.\n\n\"Good evening, my daughter. What brings you to my home?\" \n\nThe voice is ancient, heavy with the weight of eons. \n\nQueen Malvina straightens, a slight scowl on her face as she address her host.\n\n\"Mordnacht. I desire something of you.\"\n\n\"Of course you have. Why else would you have come here? Once moment my child.\"\n\nPausing for a moment, the creature steps from the rear of her lair and into the main cavern. Her tail, sixty feet long, drags through the layers of refuse and bones like the rudder of a ship. Her taloned claws pick their way through the ossuary, careful not to disturb the piles of bones the pile up ten feet high in places. The tattered wings are tuck in at her side, covering up the gaping wounds deep in her chest. Her head, like that of the largest bat looms forward, the deep red eyes burning with hellfire. Fangs two feet in length reveal themselves, dripping with gore and rotten flesh.\n\n\"What may I do for you, my daughter?\" \n\n\"The last time Dieter came here, he refused to speak of what happened. Tell me, what went on.\"\n\n\"My conversations with Lord Dieter are between him and me. If he does not wish to tell you, you should not then go behind his back. It is a betrayal.\"\n\n\"Do not speak like that. Dieter is everything to me. My only desire is to see him happy.\"\n\n\"Then release him from his slavery...\"\n\n\"Dieter is not my slave!\" Malvina shouts. \"I do not own him!'\n\n\"Is that so? Then he could leave your castle without your permission, hmm? Choose to leave you and this island forever? Can he die of old age, finally liberated from captivity by the passage of time? Answer me, child!\"* Mordnacht snarls, sending a wave of putrid stench flying at the Queen.\n\nMalvina takes a half-step back, green eyes cast down and face burning in shame. She murmurs something undecipherable.\n\n\"What was that, my child. I fear my age has not lent my hearing any favors.\" \n\nA bald lie, her ears were some four feet in diameter each, fixed forward so she could fly by sound. Queen Malvina clenches her hands into fist, a low wind starting to stir in the cavern, shifting the tattered banners ever so slightly.\n\n\"No! No, he is not free!\" She screams, voice filled with grief and pain. \"I don't want him to leave, I couldn't bear it. I love him. I fear what would happen should he leave my life. I love him.\" Small tears run down her face, splashing onto the dry floor. \"I love him, Mordnacht. I love him with every fiber of my being. He is all I have in my life. I don't want to go back to the time before he washed up on my shore. Too much has happened since that day to allow me to accept that fate again. There has been too much happiness and joy in my life. I've found someone to live for. I will do anything to keep him safe.\"\n\n\"Anything?\"\n\nQueen Malvina's eyes burn with balefire. \n\n\"Anything.\" She confirms.\n\nThat grinding sound that signals her step-mother's form of laughter, the sound of stone scraping on stone.\n\n\"Well then. I am pleased to here that. Good night, my daughter.\"\n\nHer monstrous form begins to make its way back to her side-cavern. Malvina steps forward, shouting.\n\n\"Wait! If you won't tell me what happened, at least tell me what Dieter saw!\"\n\n\"Back of the cavern, my child, on the left. Follow the path to its end. You shall then witness what your love had seen. But be warned. Do not blame me for whatever you find. Good night, my daughter, and may you live without regret.\"", "I woke up in a weird place. It was pitch black. After a while i realised, that it was a cube. I was inside a cube. The cube was made out of some weird material. It felt like there was nothing there.\n \nI've been here for a couple of hours now. At least i think so. It's hard to say, but i'm 90% sure a few hours have passed. \nI've lost the feeling of time. I could be here for 5 hours. I could be here for 5 minutes. I could be here for 5 weeks. At least i think so. I can' t be here for 5 weeks, right? I would have died then.\n \n I'm not sure if i' ve even slept. Everything is a blur. I can't remember anything. It's so dark here. I need to get out. \nAm i dead? Is this hell? Is this purgatory? If so, how long will i be here? What kind of psycho could do this to me? Is this how i will spend the rest of my life? Am i dead or alive?\n \nAm i dead or alive? I need to know. I don't care what happens to me. I don't care, who did this to me. I don't care if i'm dreaming. I only think about one thing. Am i dead or alive? \nAm i dead or alive? Am i dead or alive? Am i dead or alive. ANSWER ME! I KNOW YOU KNOW! ANSWER ME NOW! ", "\"Can you confirm this?\" The question came from a uniformed German officer at the door of the small house. He glanced nervously over his shoulder into the night while he waited for his answer.\n\nHesitantly, the younger man replied, “Yes. Yes, it was his.” He was standing by an overturned desk in a bombed out wooden cottage somewhere in Switzerland. Beyond the man in the room was a forest of trees that were slowly growing through the absent back wall of the structure. Time ate away at the home, but the shadows of its past residents still remained. Faded picture frames hung crooked on the leaning wall, parts of a rotten leather chair sagged heavy with rain water in the corner. A pile of fallen boards had been collected into a nest for some wicked animal that had long since moved on leaving tufts of fur hanging on loose nails and splintered wood.\n\nThe officer closed the door behind him to shield their movements from the view of the clearing out front. He approached the desk and faced the floor where the younger man was staring. “And this is how they survived the bombing? They had a shelter of some kind under their home?”\n\nThe man gave no reply. With the heavy iron desk overturned on its hinged base, the small door to the basement chamber was clearly visible. This is where they had hid before the bombs had fallen. It had to have taken years to construct though. And then to do so secretly without any outside help from the village would have been near impossible. It was obvious that it had saved the life of this brilliant man and his family, but how could they have possibly known that far in advance about the threat of war, and what purpose did it serve to do all of this work in secret?\n\nWith this thought the officer stooped and and began to pry the door open. When he struggled the other man put on a pair of leather gloves and joined him. Chipping away years of rust and debris they eventually were able to lift the heavy lid free. It crashed to the ground between them.\n\nThe two panted with the effort. The older was more out of breath than the younger. So, it was the younger that first realized the overwhelming smell of rot that emitted up from the dark open throat in front of them. He quickly raised a rag to his face and gagged, stumbling away.\n\nThe officer likewise produced a rag, but he willfully resisted the urge to gag or look away. He gazed sideways into the darkness at his feet. After a few moments he extracted a small pen light and shone its light down. The cavern swallowed the light almost instantly.\n\nAfter a few moments he motioned for the man to join him and he knelt to climb down a small ladder that hung from the opening.\n\n\"We are going down there?\" The young man said with a quavering voice.\n\n\"Yes.\" And then the officer had second thoughts about his ability to keep his composure in front of the young enlisted man. \"No. I will go alone. Retrieve my flood light from the car, and bring it back to me directly. Then stay in this room and listen for my orders.\"\n\nThe man acknowledged and swiftly exiting to the clearing. The older man, hesitated and then finally began climbing down the ladder with cold trembling hands. He descended about 30 feet before reaching the floor. It was covered in about 2 feet of standing water. He remained on the ladder and passed his pen light in circles around the room. Objects hung on the walls. and protruded up from the black motionless water, but nothing was distinguishable. He waited.\n\nFinally, he turned to call up to the surface. “Karl!” he cried. Forgetting his protocols and referring his driver by his first name. He waited while his voice finished echoing around the room. The name Karl, sinking deep into the liquid carpeting the chamber. He gagged slightly on the rotting scent and coughed several times to fight the urge to vomit. “KARL!” He repeated climbing quickly back up the ladder.\n\n\"Sir!\" the voice said at the top of the ladder. \"I have the lamp.\"\n\nThe officer reached up and took the light from the man’s fragile white hands and descended back to the base of the ladder before turning it on.\n\nThe light exploded into the chamber. He found himself dangling from a ladder descending from the center of a concrete cube of a room. Straight grey walls boxed him in from all sides. He struggled to shift his weight on the ladder and turned to face the room in all directions. His shadowed form played across the water and the walls like a large black living creature. And as he came to realize what lay around him in the room the black creature began to shake uncontrollably. A low quiver at first, building to a full rocking shake that rattled the lamp against the rungs of the ladder as he pulled himself closer to it, grappling both of his arms around it. “my Lord…” he mumbled. “…my Lord…” he repeated to himself. “It’s a zoo.” he said to himself. “It’s some kind of circus.” he tried to find the words to describe what he was seeing. “they aren’t real. Are they real?” His eyes darted from wall to wall and he began to blink sweat from his eyes.\n\nThe light from the lamp flickered weakly, and dimmed. “Damn it. No. Karl!” he yelled. There was no reply. “Karl!” he repeated with his face turned up towards the porthole. A moment later, the light died completely.\n\nIn complete blackness, his mind still buzzed with the images surrounding him in all directions. The sea of blank lifeless faces starring into him from dark empty sockets. The army of jaws hanging open in silent protests. The grotesque faces of creatures somewhere between humans and animal. Their forms misshapen and abused. Contorted in on themselves, with patches of exposed fur and reptilian scales. Their ruptured bodies hanging from hooks and chains, positioned on tables. Bones pointing out from their rotted clothing. They were dressed, in various ways. Chained to the wall in school boy outfits, and flowing dresses sewn into straight jackets. In one corner were a group chained to the broken remains of instruments. A dark quartet of decaying beasts. Creatures created by the brilliant scientific mind of a sick genius. The putrid art of a man gone mad.\n\nThe officer dropped the dead lamp into the water at the base of the ladder and quickly ascended. “Karl! Karl, we must leave now.” He said quickly in the darkness, stopping once to finally retch over the side of the ladder. Two rungs later the lid to the chamber was slammed closed with a bone clattering bang. The little light coming through the small opening vanished. The ladder vibrated violently, and the tall officer slipped falling backwards 20 feet into the cushion of dank water. The sound of his thrashing and cursing was completely silent from above in the room where the young man stood trembling over the door. With another great effort he heaved the heavy desk back into place on top of the hatchway and quickly scrambled out into the night.\n\nKarl Metzger, illegitimate son of Albert Einstein, had preserved his father’s secret.", "He stood there. Looking out the window. Wondering why there was bars, holding him in. The scars on his face were recent. He couldn’t recall how he got there. He couldn’t stop thinking about the little box.\n\t\nIt was small about the size of two quarters next to each other. Push one side in, the other came out. The top and bottom smooth, the top had a woman dancer, risqué, the bottom had a warning, he couldn’t recall what it said. The sides, rigid, little black dots, patterned, half of a component. The inside hollow, filled with a dozen little sticks. \n\t\n“Come here you slut.” The man screamed at the woman.\n\t\nShe screamed and cried out for help. The man continued the abuse. He raised his hand at her.\n\t\n“You keep your hands off of her” The boy said.\n\t“What are going to do, you bastard, a whore and a bastard isn’t that perfect.”\n\t\n“I will hurt you” The boy murmured.\n\t\nThe man turned and paid no mind to the boy. The boy grabbed what he could, a bottle of whiskey his father loved. He took and broke it over the head of the man. \n\nThe little box was all the little boy could remember. ", "There wasn't a day went by when I didn't think about her. That I didn't think about her emerald eyes, I didn't think about her ruby lips. Not today, not yesterday, and I'm sure tomorrow will find the same result. There's nothing I wouldn't do to have her back. \n\nI pace the study, my eyes on the floor. I've once again allowed my thoughts to succumb to this. I've allowed her to creep back in and whisper into my ear how she loves me, how she aches to have me in her arms. I try to fight it off but in the dead of night, she visits me. Stirs me from my corpse like slumber and kisses me through the wind of my open window, caresses my face and leads me to the long hours I dread.\n\nThe fight was trivial, though I don't remember much. Something of money, something I said, something she did. We never fight, not really, but when we do it's over dumb things. She's never left for this long and I fear the worst, I fear I've been shown up and my place taken. I fear she's left me for another, left me to rot in this hell hole I bought for us. My love, my darling, she left and I don't know where she's gone. \n\nThree weeks, four days, seven hours, twenty... I glance at the clock, twenty four minutes. \n\nFrom the darkness of study, under the crackling flames of my hearth, her velvety tone allows me to drift, trancelike, and I can almost feel the soft skin. The soft pale curls, the fragile paleness like a doll from a shop window. \n\nI must see her. \n\nI must find her. \n\nI don't know where she's gone, but she calls to me. She calls for me to bring her home, to fix whatever has gone wrong. I most likely offended her. Maybe she's gone to her mother's. \n\nI don't even notice the bottle in my hand. I take a long swig from it unknowingly. It burns my throat and I don't notice. It scraped it's way to my eroded insides and settled in a place I like to not feel on. \n\n I don't notice the scratches on the floor, probably from her mutt she had to have. The thing slept on her couch these days, I hadn't the need for punishing it. I planned to pound the dull thing if she stayed gone for too long. I lingered on the idea she would return. I know she will, because I'll find her. It's okay because I'll find her. Then she'll take care of the old bitch. \n\nMy feet moved unknowingly, my hand clutched around its ever-lightening load. My blue eyes searched for something, I don't know what, but I knew it was here. I couldn't find her without it. \n\nMy coat? Oh yes my coat. \n\nThe autumn air was crisp, sharper than years before. I needed my traveling cost, which would be in the closet. It was my stupor that left me reeling, but I was back. I was sharp as a tack and ready to find my love. \n\nBut something wasn't right. My eyes couldn't focus and my gait teetered as I made my way across the room. Even as the drunkest fool I kept my wits about me, what was this? Possibly a laced bottle? Suddenly aware of the alcohol, I dropped it, sending a resounding shatter across the house. I heard barking. My yell silenced it. A voice that was not my own but I pushed it from my mind. I needed her. I needed my coat. \n\nCoat closet. Move. \nI needed to move faster but my legs were reluctant. My feet were unwilling. \n\nThe fight hadn't even meant anything. Was I still mad at her? Objectively I know it's not the fight, but the heat of the moment that returns to me in a flash, filling my nostrils with the putrid scent of hatred and anguish. I saw red. But I calmed. My dearest would be home and I would rejoice again. \n\nI swung the closet door open. The dark room allowed for me to rummage and find my coat. I pulled it out haphazardly and felt something clinging to it. Something..\n\nSomething wasn't right. \n\nI tugged on the coat. Something fell to the ground with a hollow thud. My hand found a light, and I was met with something horrible. My beloved, charred and yet somehow still beautiful. Her pearls around her neck, and singed fur around her bones. \n\nThe dog, the old dog burned right beside her. They looked like peaceful old .. Husks. At peace but horrible things. I tore my eyes away. Who had done this? Who had found it within their charred and blackened heart to do such a thing. \n\nI tore through the house, not minding the falling items or bothering with my surroundings. I wrapped my coat on myself to go find help. \n\nI tried. But. \nThe damned mirror told me lies. \n\nI saw the same charred remains gape back at me as in the mirror. The face that I pride myself in was only there in part, as my teeth bared but I swore my mouth was closed. I believed my eyes to lie, but there my skeletal doppelgänger stood, mimicking my every movement. \n\nSo, I reached for the door. It burned me. I felt the burn run up my arm. I remembered my rage, remembered the burning swelling anger within me. I remembered it all. An unhappy, ungrateful, greedy, barren bitch of a wife. An obnoxious, untrained mutt we took in on its last limb. A miserable life we built in opulence but it was never enough. We never had children. We never found love. It was too much for her. Too much for me. Five years in and her beauty faded. Not much left now, right, dearest? \n\nThe house was in disarray. Charred to the ground. Yet I still saw it although it happened just today. I saw the glistening chandeliers rattle from door slamming. The dog ran after us and barked as we yelled. \n\nShe didn't like me locking it in the closet. \n\nSo I bid her to join. \n\nMy eyes jotted across the room. My vision was fading in a flash of red and white. My eyes lost in a sea of flames. Her mother did always say I drank too much. It was the Irish in me, right Madame? Yes, I do think so. I basked in the dark warmth. \n\nAlone. Silence. \n\nThis was all a man ever needed. \n\nBut as my view darkened I lulled into a sleep and I dreamt. I dreamt of her. Solely of her. Her soft pale curls, her emerald eyes. Those bold ruby lips. \n\nNow that I think of it, there wasn't a day went by when I didn't think about her. ", "Caution: This is a scary short story based off of a Nickelback song. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. \n\n_________________________________________\n\n\nPhotograph\n\n\"It's going to be awesome!\" Joey had promised. \"Just be like old times.\" \n\nNick had his doubts, since he was no longer a nine-year-old, but Joey had a way of getting people to do what he wanted either out of pity, or a weird fascination for train wrecks. Nick was starting grad school in the fall, while Joey was \"between\" fast food jobs for the third time this year. But the two had been close friends once upon a time, gargling milk and flinging spitballs, and Nick felt like he owed it to the guy. Besides, Clayton and Elise were going to tag along -- how bad could exploring their old abandoned elementary school really be? \n\nAnd so at around 4:00 PM on a Saturday, Nick Kroeger drove them all down the long winding driveway to Nickel Creek Grade School. He navigated his battered red Saturn carefully. The driveway and parking lot had long ago surrendered to weeds and other vegetation. Plants broke up through the concrete, causing cracks, gouges, and chunks of rubble. Nick killed the engine, and his three friends spilled out of the car and into the summer sun. \n\nClayton Boyd gave a low whistle at the sight of the school, adjusting his large-frame glasses. He was a short, scrappy African-American youth wearing a Captain America T-shirt, dark jeans, and neon orange Nike's. \n\nElise Walker wrapped her arms around herself defensively, unsure and temerous as always. She wore an oversized long-sleeved white-knit sweater. She had tousled black hair kept in line with a thin gray headband. \n\nJoey Leekman was the last out of the car. He was tall and gangly with stringy brown hair spilling out from under a stoner beanie. He wore a black shirt with \"COOL STORY BRO\" printed on it in alternating white and blue. \n\n\"This is going to rock,\" Joey swaggered over to where Nick stood in his gray-and-red lifestyle brand polo, slipping his car keys back into the pocket of his khakis. \"Trust me.\" \n\nTrust me. Those were always Joey's words. Nick gave a little sigh to fill his lungs with patience. \n\n\"Alright,\" he said. \"Let's get this over with.\" \n\nThe school had once been cheery red brick and pristine white roofing. Now, the brick was brown and dirty; the roof gray, waterstained, and collapsed in parts. It was a single-level building, rather low, but in its state of disrepair, it appeared to be practically sinking into the ground. The group approached the entrance to the school, Joey and Nick taking the lead with Clay and Elise lagging behind. \n\nThe sidewalk was somehow in better repair than the parking lot. Nick had always thought the entrance of the school looked like a face, with its large dual doors and windows for eyes, but now the face was just sad and battered. The handles were lashed together with chains. Nick reached out and gave a half-hearted tug. \n\n\"Welp,\" he wiped his hand on his pants. \"I guess we tried.\" \n\nJoey scampered around to the other side of the building. \"PUSSIES!\" he yelled. \n\nThe other three exchanged glances, and followed behind. \n\nJoey was pressed against the wall of the building with his shoe off, arm cocked back, ready to slam it into the window. Before Nick could yell for him to stop, the window was shattered with a tremendous noise. Nick glanced over his shoulder, wincing, but he realized that there was no one around to listen. Even if there were people nearby, they wouldn't expect to hear anything from a school abandoned for this long. \n\nJoey bashed around the corners of the window some more, cleaning the excess glass. He wriggled back into his shoe, looking quite proud of himself. \n\n\"Anyone want to go first?\" he bowed to the rest of the group. \n\n\"Nah,\" Clay grinned. \"Ladies first.\" \n\nAnd so Joey flung himself inelegantly at the open window, managing to clamber his way through. He fell the last part of the way with a curse, but popped back up right away, and all was well. Nick gave Clay a boost over the wall. He helped Elise through as well. Once he managed to climb inside, the others had already spread out across the classroom. \n\nThis was their second-grade classroom. Their teacher had been Mrs. Breen. Two-dozen desks were spread out over a dirty tiled floor. Animal droppings were everywhere; Nick wondered if he should have brought a mess. The desks themselves seemed smaller than Nick had remembered; their legs seemed sharp, almost like weapons. Bits of plaster on the wall were peeling. The bulletin boards were faded from the sun. Even the chalkboard at the front of the classroom seemed faded and sunken from time. \n\nJoey made a beeline to the chalkboard, pinching a sliver of white chalk between his fingers. \n\n\"Do not draw a dick on the chalkboard,\" Nick said, exasperated, but the deed was already done. Clayton laughed. Elise rolled her eyes. \n\n\"I sat here .. \" Joey tossed the chalk away, and stepped into the thick of the desks. \"Nick was over there. Elise was here .. and Clayton, over there!\" \n\n\"Of course you would remember that,\" Elise said darkly. \n\nIt was kinda cool to see the old classroom. The chairs of the desks looked weak and so Nick didn't dare sit in one, but he tried to imagine himself as such a small person, and it was hard to do. \n\n\"Oh, look at this!\" Elise had wandered over to one of the bulletin boards. There were photos stuck there with putty. Some of them had fallen to the ground. Elise beckoned them over. \"It's us!\" \n\nThe boys gathered around her. The pictures showed second-grade class photos ranging for almost a decade. The students were lined up neatly in front of the marquis at the end of the driveway by the road. Nick quickly found himself, and groaned at the magnificent bowl-cut. \n\n\"What the hell is on Joey's head?\" Clayton asked, stabbing his finger onto the photograph. \n\nA young Joey Leekham, towering over his peers even as a seven-year-old, wore some sort of decapitated sombrero that flopped down on either side of his shiny face. \n\n\"I remember that hat! My first hat, and the start of a wonderful tradition,\" Joey reached up and patted his beanie. \n\n\"I was adorable!\" Elise gushed. \"Wow, look at that bird pattern on my shirt. I wish I could find something like that today; it's trendy!\" \n\n\"Back when I had hair, man, check that out,\" Clay laughed at the image of himself with finger-length wavy hair; he currently kept his hair buzzed. \n\n\"What's this awkward space?\" Joey asked, pointing. \n\nIn the smiling, kneeling rows of second graders, there was a child-sized gap right between two students. \n\n\"Kim Harper was supposed to be there,\" Nick said, immediately. \n\nAt the mention of Kim, Elise's smile faded. \n\n\"Was she not at picture day or something?\" Clay gave Nick a quizzical glance. \n\n\"No, I remember her being there,\" Nick closed his eyes for a second, letting the distant memory come back to him. \"Maybe they took two pictures, or something. It's weird they used a picture that didn't have her in it. Her name is even listed at the bottom with all the others.\" \n\n\"I forgot all about Kim,\" Clay said in wonder. \n\n\"I saw her mom at the grocery store once,\" Joey scratched the back of his neck. \"She looked depressed.\" \n\nNick felt a knot in his stomach growing. Kim Harper had been Nick's lifelong friend, and high school girlfriend for two years before she was killed in a car accident. The tragedy had rocked Silver Creek, and had been one of the major reasons Nick had been so keen on leaving town for college. \n\n\"Let's not talk about Kim anymore, okay?\" Elise said, scrunching up her nose. \n\n\"Yeah, we're supposed to be having fun!\" Joey gave a whoop. \"Let's go look around the rest of the school.\" \n\nThey left the classroom, and began to poke around the rest of the school. The hallways were wide, much wider than Nick could remember. Artwork from past students still lined the walls, but some had fallen and littered the ground. The carpet was faded and ripped in places. The ceiling was gutted here and there, wires and tile sagging here and there; the kids made sure to avoid these areas. They were not the first explorers. There were numerous graffiti tags here and there on the white painted brick. Chairs and desks were overturned in some rooms. Eventually, they separated. Nick and Joey took the east wing of the school, while Clay and Elise headed up to the front door to see if they could get them to open. \n\nOn Nick's dare, Joey entered the boy's restroom. The smell was putrid. Nick put his hand over his mouth. Joey beckoned him inside. \n\n\"I thought I blocked out this color forever,\" Nick said, breathing through his mouth, taking in the puce-painted walls. All but one of the sinks still remained. All of the stall doors were gone. In the last stall, someone had set a giant teddy bear on the toilet with a gas mask over its face. Clever. Toilet paper made navigating treacherous. Nick wished he had worn cheaper shoes. \n\nJoey was taking a piss in one of the urinals when Nick came back to the sink. Joey hooted. Nick cursed, and sped past his friend back out into the hallway. \n", "\"Erroneous,\" my shadow exclaims. \n\nI let it babble. It's is better that way. On some level I am aware of what it is and the meaning of its otherwise inane ramblings, but I am not on that level now. Now I am on the up and up. \n\nThe screen is blue-ish, the walls are blueish, the floor and it's menagerie of assorted debris is blotched with blue, and so is most of the rest of the room. The rest is the domain of black and gray. \n\n\"Alter the alter,\" continues the shade. \"Empirical solution.\"\n\nI don't remember when it started speaking. The feeling I've been having lately is that it always has been. I just began listening a month ago. \n\n\"Safeguard the point of observation.\"\n\nThe point of observation seems important. It has been mentioning that a lot. \n\n\"What's the point of observation?\" I ask it almost as a reflex and freeze as I turned around. Shit. \n\nShit. Shit. Shit. Shit. \n\nThe old fear is back, pushing against the backs of my eyes. I'd been ignoring it so long I forgot I was supposed to. I forgot to be afraid, and now I'm terrified. Behind me, ringed in blue, my shadow looks back at me. \n\nIt's just my shadow. \n\nMy chest is tight and painful. Cold sweat. I'm in full fight-or-flight mode. \n\nIt's just my shadow. \n\nI'm frozen still. My gaze cast over my shoulder, locked on my shadow. Just my shadow. \n\nIt's just my shadow. \n\nIt's moving. \n\nI spin back to the screen. Not looking. I didn't see anything. \n\nIt's just my shadow. \n\nThere's movement in the air. I keep my eyes on the bright, blue glow of the screen. I didn't say anything. I didn't see anything. \n\nIt's just my shadow. \n\nThe screen goes black. 1 minute timer on the screensaver. \n\n\"Important,\" says the voice of the dark. \n\nIt doesn't say anything more for the rest of the night. I don't sleep. When morning and light comes, I have had time to process what happened. Something changed. I initiated something. Contact. Things will be different from now on, probably. \n\nI have a lot to do today, but those things require energy and motivation, both of which a night spent in mortal terror will drain right out of you. \n\nI force myself out of the ball of rigor mortis I've been for the last several hours and crawl to the bed, not bothering to get undressed. Lying on top of the sheets, and sleep will not come. \n\nI glance up. Light streams onto me from the lone window. Next to it my shadow looms. \n\n\"Wherein what do you perceive?\"\n\nIt's just my shadow. ", "My fist pounded against the door for the umpteenth time. \"Brian! Let me in!\" I yelled. Still no answer came from inside as the rain poured down. I looked around. Brian's car was in the driveway. I waited a few more seconds, and then decided to try the back door.\n\nBrian and I were supposed to hang out today and work on the project for Environmental Science. It didn't look like kids would be trick or treating tonight however, as this thunderstorm was unforgiving. I wandered around to the back door of the house and pounded again. \"Brian!\" I yelled. I waited for someone to come to the door.\n\nSuddenly I heard a yell from behind me. I turned around to see where it had come from. Brian's backyard was on the edge of the local woods, which stretched on for maybe a mile or two. We often hung out in the woods when we were younger. \"Brian?\" I asked in the direction of the woods. I swung my rain-soaked backpack over my shoulder and unzipped the front pocket, pulling out my flashlight. I clicked it on and walked towards the woods.\n\nThe rain clouds blocked out the moonlight, so without my flashlight it was fairly dark in the woods. I reached the edge and I shined my flashlight in. \"Brian?\" I called. I received another scream in reply, most definitely coming from Brian. I ran into the woods, my heart racing.\n\nI ducked under the reaching branches and zoomed around bushes. The wet leaves under my feet made it hard to gain traction. The cold rain against my face made it hard to see. \"Brian?\" I called out. \"Where are you?\" I continued to run.\n\nI stopped for a second. I thought I heard something. I waited as the rain pattered down around me. I heard it again, a loud, sickening snap. Against my better judgement, I ran towards the noise. My breathing became heavy and I wondered what Brian was facing out here. Mere pranksters on a Halloween night, or something more fearsome?\n\nIn the corner of my flashlight beam I caaught something different than the trees or leaves all around me. I turned and found something horrible. Lying there at the base of a tree was the mangled and bloody body of Brian. He had been torn up and it looked as though something had been eating from him. I couldn't think of anything to say at first. \"...Bad luck Brian,\" I said, shining my flashlight around me.\n\nI twirled around, looking for the attacker. I knew I needed to leave; I needed to get back to my car and get the heck away from this place. I couldn't remember from what direction I came in though. I was thinking for a few seconds when I heard a deep growl from somewhere behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw nothing. My heart rate accelerated and I took off, not caring in which direction I was going.\n\nI zigzagged in between trees, trying to lose my pursuer. My surroundings looked the same everywhere; I didn't know if I was going deeper into the forest or going out. My flashlight flickered once and rain pelted me in the face. I tripped and fell into the leaves, but I quickly regained my feet and continued to run. I heard heavy breathing behind me. I screamed, my mind racing for something, anything I could do. \n\nI leaped over a log and threw a few trees. I heard leaves crunch behind me, and a loud growl. Something hit me from behind and I landed on my stomach. It was standing on my back. I cried instinctively and closed my eyes. I could feel its claws scratching my back through my heavy coat and my backpack..\n\nSuddenly the presence was gone. I kept my eyes clenched and covered my head for a few seconds, but I heard nothing. I opened my eyes, and the rain was gone. It was the middle of the day, and I was covered in mud and filth. The edge of the forest was mere yards away, and a person on the nearby road had pulled over and was calling to see if I was alright.", "This year, Danette decided to dress as a jack-o-lantern. The costume she wanted was not the most appropriate for work, consisting of green stockings, a ribbed corset with the traditional pumpkin grin plastered across the stomach and a hat made to look like the lid. While she was at work she decided to keep the hat, but wore a pumpkin-themed sweatshirt and green pants instead. \n\nHalloween this year was the special kind of cloudy that cast everything in a dull gray. Danette had a great view of the downtown area from her desk, overlooking the river with a clear view of the stadium beyond. In season she would take a few minutes to watch the baseball games while listening to the commentary on the radio if she was working late. Today, though, the stadium was empty but for some mildly seasonal fall decorations. \n\nDanette sat at her desk, logged in to her computer and set about her daily routine as her coworkers arrived. Sam, who sat in the cube adjacent hers, stopped at Danette’s entry and said “Trick or treat!” Danette looked up to see he was dressed as Commander Shepard, the plastic-looking armor doing a good job of hiding his slight paunch. She said “Hey, Sam, Happy Halloween. Nice costume.” “Thanks, yours isn’t too bad either. Have you seen Eric’s yet?” Danette shook her head. ”He and Dom and Carla all have matching outfits. Dark purple robes, white clothes underneath and these wooden masks that look like birds’ heads and hoods that hide everything else. It’s seriously impressive.” Danette’s phone began to ring. The readout showed her boss was calling her, most likely with her assignments for the day. “I gotta get this, Sam. Talk to you later.”\nAs the hours slowly crept toward lunchtime, Danette noticed the cloud cover seemed to be thickening overhead. It grew steadily darker as the day went on, and she caught herself thinking about staying home instead of going to the Halloween party she had been invited to if it started to rain. She chided herself silently, new enough to the city that she didn’t have any real friends and she was apparently trying to keep it that way. Coworkers were all well and good, but she hadn’t really clicked with any of them, and her own company was starting to drive her up a wall.\n\nThe sudden crack of thunder snapped her back to reality. She leaned back and looked out the window. The sky was dark, almost black, and she could see flashes of lightning in the clouds in time with the rumble of thunder. She heard Sam say beside her “What are those people doing? Is that…Eric?” Danette stood and went to the window. She looked down to see a circle of 15 or so people in what appeared to be dark robes holding hands around what looked like a big square rock with a Jack-o’-lantern on it. Danette watched as the circle began to sway synchronously. The thunder rumbled louder and the flame within the pumpkin began to grow brighter. \nDanette heard Sam mutter “What the fuck.” under his breath. The pumpkin shone brighter and brighter, becoming almost a searing glare that hurt to look at directly. She saw the shadows of the buildings beside it dancing across their neighbors, the flickering light making them twist into oddly unsettling shapes. Danette heard someone in the office scream “Oh Jesus, the sky! Look at the sky!” Danette looked up to see the clouds swirling around the circle below, lit from within from what looked like red lightning. \n\nShe stared, openmouthed as a hole opened in the center. The light from the pumpkin below turned to a peculiarly sickening shade of red. Danette watched as the robes on the people surrounding it burned off, watched as their clothes turned to ash and their skin began to blacken. She saw Sam turn away out of the corner of her eye and heard him vomit into the trashcan at his desk. Horrified, yet unable to turn away, she saw vines sprout from the pumpkin in the center and creep across the ground and up the people in the circle. The vines wound up and around them as they raised their arms and heads to the sky, and one by one dropped to their knees as the vines began to burrow into their heads. They never lowered their heads or arms, though, even when the flesh began to slough from their faces, when the muscles on their arms blackened and fell away, when their skulls began to crack and burst as the pumpkins that were growing inside became too large.\n\nDanette felt the pain dimly as she fell heavily to her knees. She heard several people around her sobbing, someone was shouting about the rapture. Some part of her mind latched on to that, and she began to giggle uncontrollably. She looked over to Sam’s cube and saw him watching her with a horrified expression, white as a sheet. Between giggles, Danette said “Rapture…Jesus never said anything about pumpkins.” Sam tried to crawl away, back into his cube. He stopped halfway, mouth agape, staring at something outside. Danette swiveled her head.\n\nAbove the stadium, the hole had widened considerably, becoming wider than the building below it. She could see dark shapes half as big as a man flapping madly out of the hole. Bats, she realized. The people who were in the circle were nothing more than skeletons now, bones gleaming dully in the red light. The pumpkin in the center had risen from the rock it rested on, the vines once attached to the people around it forming into a facsimile of a human shape. It picked up a knife from beside the stone, stepped over to one of the skeletons and brought it to the face of the pumpkin to begin carving.\nSomeone grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her roughly. Sam shook her, saying “We need to get out of here! Come on!” She turned her head to look at the stairway, and saw the press of her officemates around the entryway. She noticed both that they weren’t going anywhere, and the steadily growing red stain coming from the floor. She though she saw a hand, purple and bent at the wrong angle bearing Pam’s gaudy sunflower engagement ring beneath them all before she turned away. “No,” she said, “I think I’ll be stay.” Sam shook his head and let her go, backing towards the stairs. “I’m getting as far away from that thing as I can!” He said, before turning to run at the exit.\n\nBehind her, Danette heard a cracking noise. She turned to see a web of cracks spreading haltingly across the glass. She quickly huddled behind her cube wall, and moments later, a loud crash and a sudden spike in temperature and drop in air pressure told her the window had given way. Outside, she heard the screams of the crowds in the streets who had the same idea as Sam, and a high-pitched cackle. \n\nThe bats were still coming out of the sky, even larger now, easily the size of a small car with wingspans to match that of a small biplane. Many of them were carrying shrieking people up to the roofs of the nearby skyscrapers. She could still see the stadium; all of the grass burnt away, the circle of skeletons standing now. The pumpkins on their shoulders were carved with grotesque caricatures of grins, a small flickering light visible inside of each. Above it all she could hear the cackling growing rapidly in volume, well past uncomfortable and into the realm of physical pain.\nDanette clapped hands over her ears in a vain attempt to shut out the noise. The piercing laugh made her teeth rattle, made her feel like her skull was vibrating, and just when she thought she might pass out, it stopped. Slowly, a huge figure descended from the clouds, easily half as big as the stadium. He sat atop a gnarled broom, the handle made of wood that looked more knot than branch, with uneven twigs sticking out the back at odd angles, all wrapped with tar black twine. He wore a long duster made of patchwork leather of varying hues, many of the patches bearing rings and odd dimples or black markings. His body seemed to be made of moldering vines, black and twisting and covered with brown leaves. His head was a gigantic pumpkin, at least the size of three minivans end-to-end, half rotten and carved with a sagging, skeletal grin. Inside there was no candle, but a glow shone from the openings carved in the face and smoke curled from where the lid should be.\n\nSuddenly, a bat perched on the window and eyed Danette, it’s snubby pig nose twitching. She shrieked and made to run. As she turned she felt the things teeth lance through her, from her collar to her waist as its jaws clamped down. She was wrenched back and pulled out the window. She could feel the teeth of the thing scraping against her bones as it flapped, pulling her higher and higher. Quickly, though, the pain began to ebb, and as her vision started to shrink she heard a voice thunder across the sky, saying “THE PUMPKIN KING IS HERE, AND IT’S TIME FOR ME TO GET SOME TREATS.”", "We have always been here, as we shall always be.\n\nSince you people first learned to walk and feel, we have lived; crouched out of sight like a coiled spring.\n\nWe've hunted you for eons, since you hid in caves with warm fires, chalking expoits on walls. We waited then, out of the light, eyes watching and muscles twitching. We followed you across seas, stashed in dark ships; barrels of rancid fruit on the longest voyage. \n\nWe wait, in plain darkness, for this night. A night like no other, when we leave our sheltering shadows and cascade upon the world, a black ocean of shivering cold. A torrent of warm, rancid breath.\n\nWe are the unseen.\n\nYou cower now in houses made of brick and stone, but windows open and floorboards creak, your houses standing like sandcastles against the oncoming tides of night. You consider yourselves safe behind 'civilisation' and the flashing lights of heroes that go unnamed, but lights can't flash without the dark, and the only heroes against us are of your imagination. Even your greatest defense, humanity, can't stop us. As murderers go about our bidding, we watch and smile as the blood runs rivers into the sewers of humankind's madness.\n\nYou sense us, as we you. We are the reason you hesitate to leave your bed at night, hesitate to walk across a darkened room. You stop and stare into a basement, an attic, or darkened garden. You stare, and a primitive part of you knows us, feels us, and whispers. You try to quiet the voice, but it pitches ever higher, ringing with increasing confidence as you realise your vulnerability. That voice has always known us, from your childhood to your grave, as the fly has always known the spider. You stare at us, and we stare right back.\n\nTonight is our night, and with sharpened claw and pointed fang we are an army of nightmares. Silently moving we step through laminate-floored kitchens and forests; into bedrooms, lounges and caves alike. Some of you sit alone. Wrapped in fleeting warmth and staring at glowing white screens. With letters ethereal and ghoulish they draw your attention; like mermaids drawing sailors onto rocks. We approach. Behind every chair, under every bed and around every corner. We are there.\n\nWe are rising. Some of you feel the warmth of breath upon your neck, or a faint brush against your leg. Perhaps it was just a breeze, or a loose hair. Perhaps. There is always somewhere for us to hide, but on this night it is not us that need do the hiding.\n\nThis is our night, and your screaming pleas will please us as we feast upon your flesh.\n\nWe are many, and we are strong. We are fear, and we are madness....\n\nand we are coming.\n\n" ]	10
	[WP] A man is shipwrecked, alone, off the coast of an undiscovered island. The island is actually a self-made, camouflaged, piece of land created by aliens who have set up base on Earth and are planning a hostile takeover.	[ "Feed me your criticism, guys I haven’t written here before and I want it.\n\nNothing smells better than the ocean, Grant thought, rolling over to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight streaming in off the porch. That’s odd, he thinks when his hand collides with something cold and slimey, that isn’t what his girlfriend usually feels like. In spite of the protests from his hang over, he opened his eyes. An amorphous green glob surrounded his hand, oozing slime that glistened almost neon is the unrelenting sunlight. “What in the fuck!” He shouts scooting back and shaking it off. Wiping his hand on his boxers he begins to look around, “What in the fuck…” Before him was a beautiful ocean view, not a single speck marring the sparkling cerulean water splashing down in front of him. Not a thing could be seen for what had to be at least a hundred miles. Grant tries to stand up but his legs give out beneath him, landing his ass right back in the sand he woke up in. All around him was clean white sand and driftwood. Still not processing much, Grant began to pull himself up the beach. If he could only get to the shade, maybe he could think. As he pulls himself against handfuls of sand his fingers brush something clearly not metal or wood. He pulls a thin, round metal plaque from the sand. Emblazoned in clear, bold script it reads “Throw’em in the Drink!” it was from the bar on the party barge. Grant should know, he spent at least six hours there the previous night. It brought back a flash of memory, Grant was looking out the window while some slut rubbed her ass on his crotch and he remembered remarking upon how close the lighting seemed to the ship. He remembered a shake that sent everyone to the floor and a tumultuous crack that shook the ship down to the bottom. Finally in the shade, Grant lay the plaque across his lap. His hand made it’s way to the back of his head where he felt a gushy slick bump. Pulling his hand away he could see traces of blood mixed with the thick yellow-tinged pus his fingers were coated with. “Fuck,” he said quietly and then, after looking around again, “FUCK!” Using the tree he had backed against he pulled himself to his feet and, with another resounding “FUCK,” he started to run against the tree line, while his “fuck” echoed in the greenery behind him.\n\nGrant ran and ran hoping to find remnants of the boat or people or anything, really. His head was still pounding and he didn’t know what he was doing but after running what felt like miles, really about three quarters of a mile, he gave up. The view didn’t change in the slightest, beautiful blue water and white sand. Not even any animals or bugs. That seemed odd, he hadn’t seen a single other living thing. I wonder if that green shit on my hand was alive, he wondered. Surely there ought to be flies all over him, they were at every beach, he read about. This thought left his mind as he put his hand to his side and felt the stickiness of sweaty, grungy flesh. Thank god he was clean shaven because a quick swipe through his hair left his fingers disgusting. Not like theres anyone around, anyway, he thought, peeling his boxers from his body and making his way down to the water. \n\nNow that he was clean, or as clean as I’m gonna be, anyway the ache in his head was even more apparent, as was the dryness in his mouth and the burning of the sun on his admittedly pale skin. Grant looked at the forest from the water line, it almost seemed like the forest was looking back at Grant. But that was probably just the dehydration, or maybe the shock, maybe I’m in shock. With a shrug to nobody, Grant began his way up to the trees. Maybe… he thought, looking back at his underwear just sitting on the sand, and then down at his now naked self, nah. And with that he began walking again.\n\nStill no water, but at least it’s shady, he thought, looking up at the grand green leaves above him. They were really interesting looking, Grant had never seen leaves with a hexagon pattern before, but then again Grant new almost nothing about plants; living his whole life in a massive city, he didn’t really have much reason to. He had taken his first vacation in his life only this year and it was just a simple party cruise. At least, it was supposed to be, he thought looking around again. Still no water to be found but it really didn’t seem to be bothering him anymore. Grant actually was feeling pretty good. Must be something in the air. \n\nA cacophonous crack shook him out of his thoughts. It seemed louder than a gunshot and it was the only sound Grant had heard aside from the wind since he began walking through the trees. No longer walking, Grant looked down at his naked body again, Towards it or away, towards it or away, but it was really no contest. Grant wanted to be found, even if it was butt-naked. Grant began walking again, hand held protectively in front of his jewels. \n\nThere were more noises now, things hitting the ground hard enough to shake the earth even from as far away as Grant was, however far that is. He had been hearing it for a while now and was starting to think he’d never reach the source when it actually seemed like it was getting lighter up ahead. Oh man, my head, he began to think and then realized, it didn’t hurt anymore, his mouth wasn’t dry anymore. How… but before he had time to think about it his still walking feet had carried him into the sunlit clearing ahead. When had the sand turned to smooth stone? Grant tried to stop walking but he couldn’t. His feet had a mind of their own and they seemed intent on taking him towards the large rounded structure I the middle of the clearing. Oh shit oh fuck what the fuckfuckshitfuckwhycantIstopshitshit Grant’s thoughts were a mess and he was panicking; he tried to turn around, he tried so hard but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop his feet, he couldn’t move his hands from their position at his sides. Grant felt tears begin to stream down his face as his feet carried him through a large rounded opening and into the dark. \n\n.\n\nGrant opened his eyes again but not to daylight this time. It was dark and cold and all Grant could see was what was sitting in the spotlight in the center of the darkness. Amazingly enough, it was the woman from the cruise. Grant couldn't see her face but she had been the only one with an ass that big and a waist that small. The sight wasn't much of a relief though as Grant realized again that he couldn't move. He stood naked in the dark with his face pointed directly at this woman's butt. Where was he? Where were they? Why can't I move? \n\nShe was just standing there, in the pool of light emanating from somewhere above them. Grant wished he could tilt his head up to look. To his right he heard a sound but he couldn't tell what it was. It sounded like flesh rubbing against stone, that sort of soft scrape, but much louder. It was terrifying not to be able to look but he couldn't outwardly express it. Something slid across his stomach, cold and smooth and it hurt so much that Grant's body just stood there while Grant sobbed inside. The same cool touch sliding softly around his abdomen and gently squeezing. Something slid up from the floor and wrapped around Grant's legs and thighs, making its way up his back to meet itself. Grant sobbed on the inside, screaming and crying, but to no avail. He couldn't move. His body was being encompassed by this cold soft element. It ran over the back of his head and was sliding forward, past his ears. Into his ears. \n\nGrant screamed in his head as his ears were filled and his eyes were so close to being covered. He couldn't shut them. \n\nAnd then he was fine, everything was fine. Why was he so worried? He walked over to the blonde in the center of the room. \"I've got him.\" She turned to him, her face seemed so peaceful. \"Good,\" she said, \"you can maneuver him?\" Grant shook out his limbs, \"Absolutely.\" \"Good, go join the others. It's almost time.\"\n\nGrant grinned as he made his way into the next room. Looking at all the others from the ship standing calmly, waiting. In the center of the room was a large clear fountain-like structure. Soon we'll all have new homes, he thought gleefully, we will take these bodies until we are all free and then we will have this planet. I suppose the rest will just be disposed of.\n\nGrant leaned back against the wall next to the cruise director and smiled. \n" ]	1
	[WP] A cure for aging is discovered, and everyone past the age of 25 stops aging instantly. The final generation of elderly is fated to their advanced age forever.	[ "\"I ain't doing it\"\n\n\"Gramps, you take the pill, you stay alive. Forever, it's perfect. You never have to go away.\"\n\nGramps looked at him, a mix of pity and laughter in his eyes, with a bit of sadness creeping in.\n\n\"Kid, I've lived a life, and even if you spin on for another thousand years, you won't have had my life. In each part of my life, I lived it the way I lived it, the way I wanted it, and I ain't got a damn regret. Fact is, the longer I stay here, the farther I am from your Grandma, and I don't expect her to want me to be gone too long.\" He chuckled a bit, sitting back down in his chair. he'd just stood up suddenly, his back aching as he hollered about revitruex being 'unnatural' and 'a damn shame really'. \n\nIt was quiet between the two of them the younger fellow, 24 and with an eternity ahead of him, and the older 87 and with a lifetime behind him. The end of an era, but gramps didn't seem sad about it. He accepted his lot with more dignity than sense, as he'd spent his entire life really.\n\n\"...All this is, is a way for people to escape what they're all afraid of. and maybe a few old fools want to kick around, with all they've lost, a lifetime to regret things. Not me grandson. Someday I'll die, you can be damn sure of it. Besides, with your Grandma gone, I haven't had an apple pie worth eating since, so there's that to think of.\"\n\nThe grandson frowned, his eyes welling up with tears. One day his Gramps would die, and between that day and the end of his own life would be eternity. It would truly be the abyss between them. But for now, they were together, and he'd choke it back, to enjoy the good times while they still there.", "People stared just a bit too long at him everywhere he went. The few elderly who remained from his generation only made up 0.5% of the population, but most people in the city had at least seen one before. It wasn't enough for them to get used to it, though. It had bothered him for the first few years that he had gotten the stares. But he had realized what difference it made to his life: none. He would still visit the library every day and eat at his favorite diner, John's Pizza Grill, on his way back to his apartment.\n\nJohn's was usually quiet in the late afternoon when he tended to visit, so it wasn't a surprise that the only person in sight was the owner's son, Adam. The grill was a simple affair, tacky tables and chairs with a small TV in the corner that always had the news playing in the background. The food it served was top-notch, though, and he appreciated the peaceful atmosphere.\n\n\"Do you want the usual?\" Adam asked, and he nodded. No stares here; Adam had served him many times before, and he was a good kid.\n\nHe sat at the table closest to the front. Less distance to walk to get the food once it arrived, and he was close enough to hear the news while he waited. In the meantime, he checked his email on his iPod. Apple wasn't nearly as prominent as it used to be, now that all the kids were using the latest auditory cortex implants to get their mail read to them in their heads or even implanted assistant AIs running on neuro stem cells to sort out the spam for them. But there were still a few old fogies like him who preferred tactile feedback, and it was enough to keep the company afloat.\n\nAdam called his name, and he got his food. He was halfway through the chicken burger when he noticed that Adam was next to him and was saying something.\n\n\"Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?\" Adam said hesitantly.\n\nHis mouth was still stuffed with chicken, but he took a hand off of the burger to point at the seat opposite to him. Adam sat down, and he swallowed and put the burger down.\n\n\"What did you want to talk about?\" He asked. He'd talked to Adam before, of course, but it was just small talk. They'd never had a real conversation before. But it wasn't like there were any other customers there, and he could use the company.\n\n\"Well, it's just that my girlfriend has grandma. Well, a great-great-grandma, really, and she was old, like you.\" Adam fumbled with the words at the end. He looked awfully embarrassed. Shouldn't have bothered, really, his skin was too thick to take offense that easily. \"Anyway, I just wanted to know, does it hurt?\"\n\nMost people assumed that it did hurt, he knew. That was half the reason he got the stares; he was a living reminder of the days back when humans suffered from real pain, before the implants were there to dull it after it stopped providing useful feedback. Of course, it was too risky to insert those implants into anyone his age.\n\n\"No, it doesn't. It did at first, when the Eden project was still new. But most of the causes were cured a few years after that. Did you know that people could get terrible joint pain just from using their hands?\" He cracked his knuckles. Adam stared. \"It was called arthritis. And we might not be able to get full implants like you young people, but we still have drug capsules in our veins. That takes care of the rest of it.\"\n\n\"But, what's it like being old?\" Adam asked.\n\nNow he was puzzled. \"What do you mean? Don't you have parents? I thought everyone was waiting until eighty to have kids these days.\"\n\nAdam tilted his head, looking equally confused, but then his eyes lit up. \"Oh, no, I mean actually old. Like, over four hundred.\"\n\nHe smiled. \"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.\" Adam frowned, and he laughed. \"Well, I will tell you that it's not as bad as you're thinking. Young people always think it will be terrible. Even I used to think that way. I even thought I would die, and yet I'm still here.\"\n\nAdam nodded, accepting it, and just sat quietly and watched him while he finished his burger. He nearly choked on the last bite when he heard something entirely unexpected.\n\n\"Breaking news,\" said the voice from the TV. \"The NIH has just announced that a new drug to reverse aging has been approved. Now the first generation to receive the cure can be young again. The NIH expects promising results in assisting the reintegration of the so-called \"Ancients\" into mainstream society...\"\n\nHe turned back to face Adam, whose eyes were unfocused, the telltale sign of someone viewing something via the implant link to their visual cortex.\n\n\"Talk about good timing.\" Adam said a few seconds later, his eyes snapping back to meet his gaze. \"I guess it doesn't matter after all.\"\n\n\"I don't know about that,\" he said, sipping his drink.\n\n\"What, you're not going to use it? Wouldn't that make things harder?\"\n\nHe thought about it some more, but he realized that his mind had already been made up, maybe even before he'd considered the question. It would be easier. He'd be able to fit into society again, and no one would be able to tell the difference between him and someone who was \"only\" one hundred years old. No more stares. He could even get those fancy implants.\n\nHe shrugged. \"Maybe. But I'm used to this body. And I have all the time in the world to change my mind if I need to.\" \n\nAdam smiled. \"That's true. Well, you're always welcome here anyway.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Adam.\" \n\nWhen he left the diner, he walked a little faster, as though he'd been carrying a weight around for three hundred years and was finally free. ", "Henry's knees ached; his ankles cracked; he couldn't bend his fingers; he lost hearing in his left ear; he was considered \"legally blind,\" and his driving license was revoked; Henry's jaw locked when he chewed; he had no control over his bladder; decades of smoking cigarettes left him with a horrendous cough.\n\nHenry was balding. He hated balding. He could grow hair everywhere else, but his head? Forget about it. To be fair, he couldn't bald any further. The way he looked as an 86 year old is how he looked now as a 136 year old. No one else kept track of their age. It was pointless to even celebrate birthdays.\n\nHenry's back hunched significantly. The neighborhood kids called him the Hunchback of Notre Damn. He walked with a cane and dragged along his elderly, smelly dog Rufus.\n\nThe local young people avoided him like the plague. Henry could sense eyes signalling him out in public. \"He should've died,\" they'd whisper.\n\n\"What right does he have to live?\" they'd say.\n\n\"Assisted suicide needs to be legalized.\" \"What a smelly dog. It should be against the law to own such a vile creature.\"\n\nOld Henry didn't have much to smile for. His wife had died of terminal cancer three years before the discovery of immortality. And besides, who wants to see a toothless grin?\n\nHis only son was killed during the Final War. It was the war to end all wars. The United Countries of America came about as a conclusion.\n\nHenry would stroll through his hometown. He was aware of everyone's disapproval. The majority looked youthful. The middle-aged folks felt better about themselves in Henry's presence, though they were disgusted by his existence. He was a reminder of humanity's former weakness to death.\n\nSure, Henry wanted to just kill himself, and he had tried many times to no avail, but his dog was immortal, too. If not for Henry, little Rufus would be an orphan dog. Something about walking through the local streets seemed to spark a small bit of youthfulness in the aged dog.\n\nHis ragged tail would wag left and right. He had a glimmering look about his eyes. No one else noticed, but Henry could see it.\n\n\"Old man, isn't it time to go home?\" asked a young man as Henry strolled past. Henry merely winked at the lad. It made the locals even angrier seeing the old man ignore their jeers.\n\n\"One day, God will remove you from our beautiful Earth,\" called a priest as Henry strolled past the local church. \"He'll put all you old sinners in Hell!\"\n\nAnother voice said, \"You're mistaken, Father. This is the old man's Hell! Look at him! He suffers with every step.\" This observance was followed by mocking laughter.\n\nHenry pulled Rufus along. Since he couldn't bend his fingers to grasp the dog's leash, Henry tightened the leash around his arm. In his younger days, the tightness may have hurt him, but these days he could hardly feel anything.\n\nFinally Henry walked to the destination he had been heading toward. He slowly made his way up the hill onto a field of brown, dying grass. There was no point in keeping up the grass because people didn't visit cemeteries anymore. It reminded them too much of a sadder time when death was around every corner.\n\nHenry knelt down near his wife's headstone. He didn't bring any flowers today. The ones he left yesterday were still sitting atop the gravesite, right next to the flowers from the previous day, and those next to the bouquet from the previous day, and those next to even older roses, and those next to even older bouquets. They had all withered significantly but Henry sensed the flowers still had some life in them.\n\nHenry couldn't mourn his wife's death. It had been 50 years. The memory of her was just barely present. Was she a blonde or a brunette? She wore glasses, right? She was at least 5 foot, 6 inches... No, just 5 feet. Oh, no, it was 5'3\"..?\n\n\"I wish..\" Henry began. Rufus looked up. It was the first time the dog had heard the old man speak in decades.\n\nHenry coughed a bit. He spit out blood. It was from the cigarettes he once smoked. They should've killed him, but it's too late for that.\n\n\"I wish..\" Henry tried again. \"I wish...\"\n\nThe dog licked the owner's hand. It was as though Rufus wanted to hear the complete thought. Or maybe he just missed Henry's voice.\n\nHenry peered at the headstone. His legally blind eyes could not make out the encryption anymore.\n\n\"I wish...\" he said.\n\nA tear rolled down his saggy cheek.\n\n\"... I had died with you.\"" ]	3
	[WP]You awaken in the middle of a futuristic giant colosseum, with thousands of foreign species cheering for you. You are covered in armour, which is riddled with incredible technology, specifically a keyboard on your forearm. You look up and see a Giant Alien Beast charging for you. Good luck	[ "Threw this together. I'm trying to become a better writer, so if anyone has tips on how to make this flow better, please let me know.\n\nThe fact that my screams drowned out the cheers of the audience must have meant I was terrified, which I of course was. One moment I was standing at my fridge, trying to decide what meal would take the least amount of work to make yet still remain appetizing. The next, I was in the middle of this clusterfuck. So back to me screaming, specifically the reason behind my screams. I found myself standing in a sandy field, with a greenish sky above me. I was surrounded by floating bleachers full of some really hyped up monsters, or aliens I assume, that seemed very amused at my terror. For as far as I could see, there was nothing but flat ground and sporadically placed pillars of stone. The only things \"out of place\", so to speak, were the floating bleachers, a large floating digital clock, and what appeared to be the unwanted love child of a giant rabbit and a praying mantis. \n\nThis creature, which I have aptly named Peter, began charging at me from a couple hundred feet away. In response, I turned and fled. I noticed that I was wearing a light grey suit of armor which seems like to should have weighed a lot, but dent encumber me in the slightest. I also finally realized I was wearing a helmet with an incredible HUD system, showing me a timer ticking down, my heart rate, my body temperature, and various other tidbits of information someone smarter than me would probably find useful. I also noticed what looked like a window to enter text, as well as an oddly shaped keyboard attached to my left forearm. These thoughts didn't exactly tickle my funny-bone as I continued running away as fast as I could.\n\nGlancing back, I noticed that my good friend Peter was a tad bit faster than I was. I'd never really been much of a runner but you'd be surprised at what the human body can do while overdosing on adrenaline. So I kept on running for what felt like hours before the adrenaline began to wear off and I fell face first on to the ground in front of a stone pillar. This turned out to be a stroke of luck however, because as I fell 'ol Peter flung himself right over me and into the stone pillar. I noticed that my own personal timer only had 20 seconds left so I turned in the opposite direction and began to shuffle my way towards who knows where.\n\nThe timer hit zero right as Peter began to rear his ugly head. When this happened, the world around me evaporated into a large mud pit. Peter didn't seem to like mud very much because it was hard for him to move. I took this as an opportunity to begin running away again. The timer on buy HUD showed 1 minutes and fifty seconds and from the way things had gone so far, I assume every two minutes Peter and I get spirited away to a new location. The floating bleachers and clock were still in the sky, and the cheering was still going strong. It hit me that I was crying as I slipped and fell into the mud, and I had just about given up hope when I saw a small 'h' appear on my HUD.\n\nI sat myself up and looked at the keyboard on my arm. Surprisingly my armor seemed to be completely free of mud. I quickly typed in the word 'help' and hit the enter key. No dice. I did however see what I typed appear above the floating bleachers. This time I typed 'Hello', and when I hit the enter key the things in the bleachers went absolutely crazy. My helmet apparently had some sort of zoom function because I could clearly make out a winged squid-person waving all of his arms at me while spewing a green gas from his mouth. The cheering got louder and louder. Peter however was still making his way towards me. This time I typed in 'what do I do?' as I began to shuffle my way in the opposite direction of Peter. This elicited no response other than more cheering. I had a strange idea and typed in the word 'grenade'.\n\nWhen an old world war two style grenade appeared in front of me I was a bit dumbfounded, but at this point I didn't even care anymore. I grabbed it and turned to face Peter, who was still struggling to make his way to me. Then the timer hit zero. I had no idea what was going on at first, but then I realized I was falling towards a planet, as was Peter. The floating bleachers were keeping up with us. I managed to remove the pin on my grenade and I chucked it in his direction, but it fell slower than I did and exploded far behind me as I fell. It struck me that I would hit the ground long before the timer reacher zero, so I typed in the word 'parachute'. A nicely packed parachute appeared, attached to my armor. I pulled the string and had the wind knocked out of me as my descent drastically slowed. With 20 seconds left on the clock, I saw Peter strike the ground. Once again the crowd went wild.\n\nI saw the world around me vanish one more, and I appeared in what looked like a prison. There must have been thousands of other people, or aliens I should say, walking around. They were all wearing variations of my armor, save for the ones with exoskeletons. Over to my right, I saw a gigantic screen showing a recap of my experience just now. Over to my left, there was another screen. On one side of the it there was a picture of me, along with a string of numbers that read '0.048165%'. On the other side there was a picture of Peter along with a string of numbers that read '99.951835%'. Was that supposed to be my chance of winning? I was snapped back into reality when a large bipedal lizard with 4 eyes came and congratulated me on my victory. It was at that point I fell unconscious.", "Jordan woke up, looked at the stands, looked at himself, looked at the monster. \"Fuck yeah, a lucid dream!\" he shouted, diving to the side. \"I knew those Lucidia Dream Pills would work!\"\n\nShortly before being drugged and shipped to the sector's capital, Jordan had consumed mass quantities of an obscure pill so that he could enjoy these lucid dreams he had heard about so much. He had so much in fact, if the pre-cryostasis examination hadn't detected it, he would have died.\n\nJordan did not know this, so for possibly the first time, the announcers of the annual Mega Beast Killzone Spectacular had a situation that they did not prepare for: a willing participant. Announcers voices suddenly burst to life, desperate to milk the few seconds left before Jordan joined the others crushed into the durable, but quite porous floor.\n\nMeanwhile Jordan, unknowingly having instantly gained the support of every person in the arena, world, and local galactic superclusters. Was doing the one thing that none of them wanted. Standing still, as the Gigantic Mega Beast ruler of the galaxy and several superclusters, thundered towards him. The screams of millions reached out towards him, desperate, wanting to see someone\n\n\"Hmmm, lets see, this is a lucid dream right? So if I just concentrate...\"\n\nBOOM\n\nDead silence, everyone, including the Gigantic Mega Beast ruler of the galaxy, turned towards the sound.\n\nBOOM\n\nLouder now, just outside the stadium, no, under.\n\nBOOM\n\nThere was a bulge in the floor, the Gigantic Mega Beast withdrew to a safe distance. Jason stood where he was, concentrating as hard as he could.\n\nCRASH\n[KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x3bczScmRUE)\n\nWhat followed would be recorded down in history as the largest amount of spit takes at the exact same time. One particularly memorable one, emitted by an old red star dining on a particularly delicious gas planet, scored a 20 on the galactic spit take scale. This particular spit take went on to demolish the poor Isthuls, who luckily were so astonished by what had just occurred to even care. \n\nBy now the announcers had in part regained themselves, wiping the spit off of their monitors to stare at Jordan. Jordan was dressed in what historians later figured out to be a futuristic set of viking clothing and was holding aloft a silver hammer crackling with the combined energy of a thousand suns. Pointing the hammer forward, Jordan, the second being in the universe to directly harness the power of the infinite creation suit, directed Godzilla forward. \n\nDespite the efforts of half the galaxies best minds, the next events still remain unclear. One can hardly blame them, the destruction of a world tends to create a bit of a mess.\n\nHowever, the one thing they could deduce, was that Jordan was their new ruler. Jordan still believes he is in a lucid dream about being the invincible god of the galaxy and a few local galactic superclusters. And the company that made Lucidia Dream Pills suddenly found themselves constantly out of stock. \n\nQuick EDIT: Hey, so apparently I heard of lucidia somewhere before, because they are actually a brand. The website looks sketchy as fuck, don't buy from them.", "I quickly press \"0,0,0,0\"\n\nThe screen on my forearm reads \"Connected to Bluetooth Device.\"\n\nGreat, that's a big help I thought as the giant alien bull/rhino thing closed the distance between us. I then realize my \"Bluetooth Device\" is the glowing blue sword on my waist. It became active when it connected exactly how a lightsaber would become active. Luckily, it didn't cut my leg off as I'm sure it easily could have down.\n\nI pull out the sword and hold it in between me and the charging... thing. Like, i know how to use this or could stop it with this measly thing.\n\nI start punching in other codes into my armband thing. My social security code shoots out a net that's hardly big enough to fit around that monsters leg, much less stop it.\n\nThe thing is almost on me so I try diving out of it's path, but it doesn't really work like the movies and the things changes directions on me. Luckily I'm clumsy and the sword somehow slices the things knee and slows it down enough that I can scramble away.\n\nI punch in my Wells Fargo pin into the keyboard attached to my forearm and the arena I'm standing in starts moving. Giant pits open up with lava bubbling from inside and the ground rises up and down in places. Spikes shoot out randomly. This could be bad for both of us.\n\nI hear a roar from the crowd. Not the typical super bowl crowd sounding yell that I'm familiar with, but a mixture of clicks, laughing noises, banshee-type screams, and a bunch of other indescribable noises mixed in.\n\nI look around trying to figure out what the cheer is about and I notice that the beast, monster, thing has slipped and is sliding into a lava pit, a look of terror on it's face. \n\nI type in quickly \"7,6,7,3\". A rope appears. Just what I was hoping for.\n\nI take off towards the beast as some spikes jut out of the ground suddenly behind me. I scream in agony as another cheer erupts suddenly all around me. I narrowly missed being impaled to death but one of the spikes caught my calf and it feels like fire shooting up my leg. I look down and see blood running down my leg. It hurts worse than it looks.\n\nI limp-run to the monster and throw my rope into it's gaping mouth. As I do so, I look into the monsters eyes. It may look like an angry alien rhino, but I can tell it is an intelligent being when I look into it's eyes, and again I see terror. \n\nIt bites down on the rope and I start to pull as hard as I can. I know that I can't do it alone so I start mashing the keyboard thing again. Suddenly a laser erupts from it and grazes the rhino-aliens ear. It roars and lets go of the rope for half a second slipping further down.\n\nI toss the rope back at it and it catches it in it's mouth once again. \n\nI start mashing buttons again, being mindful not to aim at the monster, and suddenly fire erupts from my shoes propelling me from the ground.\n\nIt's slow going, but the rocket shoes slowly allow me to pull the monster out of the pit and I walk up to it. It doesn't seem angry anymore and it has a look of gratefulness on it's face. As far as I can tell.\n\n\"How about we get out of here?\" I shout over the boos from the crowd.\n\nThe rhino-alien snorts as I jump onto its back. He charges right at a wall and pummels his way through it. Wall and aliens and dust is everywhere. The beast makes a break towards a bright light on the outside of the stadium as me and my new friend escape into an alien world where we don't know what awaits us.", "Mr. Roberts looked at me like I was stupid. I really wasn't. I was just lazy. He probably knew that, he was just hoping deriding me in front of the whole class would change that. He wasn't the first teacher to try it, and he wouldn't be the last.\n\n\"Alright Jake. If you want to fall asleep during class, you can make up the time in after school detention.\"\n\nI shrugged. Mr. Roberts' eyes squinted slightly and the corners of his mouth tightened, but he didn't say anything more. I rested my head back on my fist, my eyes closing and my mind quickly wandering away into the bliss of sleep.\n\nI awoke to feel myself falling. The support my desk had been offering was no longer there and I felt adrenaline kick in as the gut wrenching feeling of falling overtook me. I hit the ground hard and cursed. I stood up, my mind almost blanking out with anger. \"Who the hell pulled my seat out!\" I yelled as I looked around. \n\nIt took me a moment to realize I was no longer in class. The tiled linoleum had been been replaced by hard packed red clay. The annoying fluorescent lighting with bright floodlights and an eerie red glow. Everyone was gone, but I wasn't alone. A massive crowd of people were cheering and laughing. They sat and stood in the stands that now surrounded me.\n\nI was broken out of my stupor by the sound of my own voice, booming loudly throughout the massive Colosseum. \"Who the hell pulled my seat out!\" the apparition of myself yelled. It was a projection above the Colosseum, many times larger than life. Nearly perfect, except for a small bit of translucency.\n\nI stared at it in amazement. As they played it again, the cheering and laughing got louder. And I noticed that the hologram me was wearing armor. I looked down at myself, and sure enough, so was I. It was light. I moved one of my arms, and could barely notice the weight. It covered me well, barely leaving my joints exposed. There was what looked like a hilt with no blade attached to my left leg, and a small pistol type weapon on my right.\n\nI quickly felt around my body and found something attached to my back. I pulled it free and found a plain wooden shaft. I looked at it quizzically, unsure of what it was for.\n\nI didn't get much more time to examine it, or the crowd around me. A massive roar ripped through the empty space, and the crowd went silent. Not the silence of fear, the silence of anticipation. I looked up just in time to see a large beast, at least twice my height, roaring while charging me. Its long sharp teeth were set inside a large head, atop a gigantic muscular frame.\n\nI yelped and rolled to my left, trying to get out of its way. It pivoted extremely fast for such a large creature, a massive axe clipping my back as it swung. \n\nThe force knocked me back hard, sending me ten feet or more. Fear coursed through my body, and I scrambled to my feet and took off running. I could hear the creature behind me, the sound of its feet smashing the ground spurring me on. It kept getting closer and closer. \n\nJust as I thought I was about to get crushed, I rolled again. The beast shot past me, having a little more difficulty this time turning, but again catching me with his axe.\n\nThe blade glanced off of my shoulder and grazed my cheek. I didn't really feel the pain through the adrenaline, but my mind did register the injury. I grimaced, and started to focus. This was not the time to be lazy.\n\nI grabbed the pistol on my leg and drew it. It was the only weapon that was familiar enough for me to use. Not that I had ever fired a gun before, but it seemed simple enough. Point and shoot.\n\nThe creature was facing me, a feral grin on his face. The crowd was cheering again, and now they started to chant.\n\n\"Rouyan! Rouyan! Rouyan!\"\n\nThe creature stood there and raised his arms, basking in the glory. He looked around, gracing the crowd with his gaze, before turning back to me. His feral smile was back. He looked hungry. \n\nHe started to slowly walk towards me. He began to growl, guttural tones that were foreign to my ears. A moment after he began, a small voice echoed in my ears, making me jump.\n\n\"Death comes for you, human. You are week. Rouyan is strong.\" \n\nMy eyes narrowed and my muscles tightened. I didn't really want to die. I raised the pistol, pointed it in his direction, and pulled the trigger.\n\nThe first shot went just to his left. His grin deepened, and he talked, if you could call it that, again. The tiny voice in my ears translated. \"Puny human. You can't even fire a tero correctly. You will bring Rouyan no honor.\" He kept walking, so I fired again.\n\nThe second shot hit him in the right chest, but glanced off of his angular armor. His shoulder shifted back with the impact, but that was all. Crap, I thought. This has gotta be a dream. Well, if that was the case, I still didn't want to lose. I didn't like losing. \n\nRouyan charged again, issuing forth a roar that felt like it shook me to my bones. I decided to change my tactics, and charged straight back at him. \n\nHe didn't slow. He didn't waiver. He raised his axe high above his shoulder, and swung it hard across his body, aiming directly for my neck.\n\nI was lucky he decided to take such an obvious swing, honestly. I ducked and rolled, this time going right between his legs. Being small did have its advantages. He kicked as I came through, catching me yet again, but this time nowhere near as hard as when he hit me with his axe. I landed on my back as he came to a stop, pulled up my pistol and fired again.\n\nThe round pierced the much thinner armor on his back. He turned to look at me, his eyes shot with red, his breathing heavy. He didn't look prideful any more, just angry. He took a step towards me, and opened his mouth to roar.\n\nInstead he coughed, and blood splattered over his armor and the ground as he dropped to a knee. He planted his axe into the ground and tried to stand up, but couldn't. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his breathing growing heavy.\n\nThe crowd was silent. I looked around. No one was moving. Some were sitting forward in their seats. Others had their hands raised like they were mid-cheer, and were frozen that way. Others looked confused.\n\nThe hologram in the middle showed the kill shot again. The bullet entering the back. A rapid string of strange sounds was playing along with it, and the voice in my ear translated.\n\n\"Amazing! Truly amazing. If you watch this, you can see that the round enters through the weaker back armor, and doesn't exit due to the power of the front armor. It probably ricocheted around in side his chest cavity for a bit, which is why such a small caliber could take out a Krevatz.\"\n\n\"I have to agree Touthan. A great performance from a rookie contender. Taking out the third seeded Rouyan is quite a challenge. The crowd doesn't look pleased at losing a favorite, but the newcomer will have his chance to win them over.\"\n\nThe voices started to fade as my vision darkened. I felt sleepy again and my knees buckled underneath me. I tried to keep my focus, but to no avail. Blackness swept over me. The bliss of sleep." ]	4
	[WP] You are a captured Pokemon, whose pokeball gets lost in a natural disaster for hundreds of years. Describe your life in the ball.	[ "Fact: Captured Pokémon are stored in Pokéballs as data. This is why an injured Pokémon won’t get worse when inside of one and why many Pokémon have not died in battle. \n \nLesser known fact: Pokéballs are electronic devices and therefore need a power source. So naturally, they have batteries which can last far longer than most Pokémon’s lifespans and can also be charged with movement and solar power. \n \nFact: No one knows what happens when a Pokéball runs out of charge. \n \n*** \nI hate my Pokéball with a burning passion. It’s dark and admittedly, a bit frightening. I’ve never had to be inside for long since my trainer likes keeping me out, whether that be for battle, to walk around or just to relax. \n \nUntil now.\n \nI don’t know how long it’s been, I haven’t counted. Far too long. Even longer than that time he got lost in the Seafoam Islands and didn’t want my leaves to freeze over. \n \nI hope he’s okay. \n \nHe needs to be okay. \n \nMaybe he’s just...lost again. That’s it, he got lost again. Silly him, does he ever use his Town Map? \n \nI can’t read human text, but this light has been flashing for a while. \n \nDATA COR͠RU̢P͞T̸I͠O̕N: ͠56% \n \nHe’ll fix it. I’m sssssssuuuurreee5errr\n \nDefinitely. \n \nD͓A̠̩͕̬̕Ṯ̻A ̹̮̘̮C͕͜O̳̻͍͓̫͡R̭R͠U̺ͅP҉̣̩͔̮͕̰T҉̟̼I̺̣O̘̗̝͖̮̬Ǹ̰̪͖̱:̣̪̥͙ ͍͕͎̹̖̯̙8̛͉͔͖̲̗̝ͅ4̣̗̘͙͖͉%̘͚̤͓\n \nHe wouldn’t let something ba34d h890ap5pen to mee9ee3e. \n \nTrainer, whe4465re are yoo6u4u8u2u23uu? \n \nÈ̅͑ͣ̋̉ͧ҉MͥͩE̛ͤRͥ̌̽͂͑̀̾GEͯ̍ͬ͊̀ͦ͊Nͭ͞Cͨ̄̿ͩ͘Ÿ ͭ͜R̶͌̄̇ͧE̾́L̏̆́̾Ẻ̆̓̈́͒ͬ͏Aͬ̎Sͥ̊͑͌ͬĒͨ̀ͤͩ̈́ ̂ͣ͑ͤ̅͟Ả͊̃ͧ̆̆̆̕C̆ͯͤ͌͐̀T̴ͥ̀̆̇̏Í̽͐ͬV̏̒̌̉ͭͦ̽Ả̶̋ͮ͛T̎̒ͮ̊ͦ͞ĘͭͩD́́̉ͩ.̔ͮ\n \n\nE͍͍͝R͓R̖͙̲̙͎̺̘͜O͇̝̬̲̫͘R̯̘̀:̢͖͍ ͖̹̲̪̠̞͝I̠̠͚̭N̶̫S̗U̹̫̜͉F̙F̨I͙̝̗͕ͅC̤͇̪͕̫̝I̹͉̩̲̰͙͕̕Ȩ̺͈͔̱̰̘ͅN̰͖̦͎̯Ṯ̼̣͕͈̞ ̨̫D͏͚͉̯̹͉ͅA͓̥̤͎̬͇͔T͕̭̼A͢.̵̟̲ E̸͍̲͖̭M̺ER̢̖̲͖G̸̭̹͚̗E̸̟͎̬ͅN̵̠̻͉͚̰̹C̴̝̜͚̦̘̫Y̤͍͈̠̘ ̸͎̗͕̻̟̮̙R̯̺̪ÉL̨͈E̵͓̜̗͖ͅA̲S̥̳̞̀E ̞͔̺F̟̲A͉̜͇͉̖I̴̟̙L̹̩E͓̣̳̩̞̥̕D.͈̤͜ͅ \n \n\nE̕R̵RO̡R̵:͡ ̶MI͝SŞIǸG̡ŃO \n \n\n \nE̵̴̥̜̱̫̦̫̙͕̒̀ͤ̌̃R̲̦̔ͦͯ̕R̟̪̦̰̠̰͓͇̎ͧͥ̏̑̅̾O̡̲͇̟͈̩̹̟͗̇̉̿̓̄̓́R̋̃̿͒̀͟҉̟̟̞̰̠ͅͅ:̫̪̘͍̦̫̙͉ͪ̀͜ ̧̙͕͆͛ͥ͗M̖͔̳͆ͥͨ̉̽͟I̼͖̩̪ͬͫ̂ͤ͢͟S̛̲͚̜̃̀̆̅̿͋͆́Ṣ̨̞̯̘̘̼̯̒ͧ̓̒̋͢ͅI͉͎̦ͦ͐̂͛̅ͯ͞͡ͅŅ̼̥̜͉͖̅͂͆̀͗ͯͥ̆̚G̮͙̩̱̝͂̉ͩͫ̀̀̈N̵͉̱͓̼̠̼͚͒͂͜O͉͙̯̤͙ͣͮ̿ͩͬͥͯͣ͡", "Day 972,643: There is still nothing. I have waited for nearly 300 years since the Great Flood, and I am still floating somewhere off the coast of the Kanto region. I can still see the face of my trainer, Ash. He put me in the Pokeball to protect me, but after all these years, no one has arrived to free me. If anyone reads this, it is too late. This is the death of Pikachu.\nDay 972,802:\n I finally reached shore today. I hear children playing, and an booming voice rings through the air. It is Ash, and he has come to free me! I start to yell, and I hear him open the Pokeball, and there is a white flash. Suddenly, I wake from my dream. I am still trapped, I have not reached shore, and Ash is gone. Slowly, I turn away, and drift back into my slumbers." ]	2
Either a hero that you make up, or an established one	[WP] Please describe a superhero's zany shenanigans as he tries to hide his secret super identity from his girlfriend after they move in together.	[ "\"pssh no\". denial denial denial, the first rule of doily club.\n\"Well where did it come from?\" the look in her eyes made me nervous. I was afraid of what I would do if she found out.. what I would have to do to her. \n\" I found that uhh at the gym... yeah you know I was pushing 5 wheels getting my lift on and when I went to the shower that was in the locker I was using. so I kept it.\" I watched in nervous apprehension as my girlfriend kept absent minded playing with the doily, little threads sliding across her skin as she stared at me. \"This thingy too?\" she said, holding up a fully loaded shuttle. \n\" babe its called a shuttle and be careful with that. its loaded. you might prick your finger or something.\" \n\"yeah real crazy you finding it at the gym. You better be careful, that crazy guy from the news may be following you. what was his name again?\" I could see her eyes searching mine as I answered. \n\" the TaTTer or something crazy. heard he had his own club.. heard he was.... doing things.\" She stayed silent her eyes kept searching mine, spotlights shining to the very depths of my soul, exposing my darkest secrets.\n \"so.. yeah crazy huh? you know I told you my mom loves to tat and as soon as I saw it i knew she would love it.\" too much, I'm talking too much need to calm down.... she is going to suspect soon. If she finds out, The thread is going to hit the fan. \n\n \"aren't heroes not supposed to steal. tossing it back in my gym bag she gives me a strange half mouth smile. \"\nwell im gonna start dinner why don't you go change and get ready?\" \n\n I really dodged a bullet that time. My girlfriend may know me as \"That One Guy\" the ultra famous good looking superhero. but if she ever found out my secret identity as a fly by night vigilante doily maker she would leave me for sure. ", "With his body invisible to human eyes, but unable to risk leaving his position, Phantom man wishes he could walk through walls. The irony is not lost to him. \n\nThe force that holds our hero captive is none other than the young and vivacious Laura Scott. As she dances energetically across their bedroom floor she sings, in her melodious voice.\n\n\"... It's a revolution I suppose...\"\n\nThis siren will be my undoing. He thinks. And yet I love her so. Phantom man was just returning from accomplishing another good deed when he was cornered, changing into civilian clothes, by his girlfriend returning prematurely from work. \n\nOnly his lightning reflexes allowed him to throw his tight black shirt into the wash pile and vanish before she caught sight of him in a very incriminating position. Now, he stands as close to the wall he can, hoping to avoid detection. \n\nLaura's dance number sends her twirling through the air, swinging from side to side and launching herself across the room. Phantom man cannot hope to cross the floor without being detected. \n\nThe window is nearby, he could have tried to climb out but Laura loves wind chimes, the air beyond the window sill is made intractable by a multitude of steel, aluminium, and bamboo rods. The wind is still today, a silent exit is impossible. \n\nHe could have tried calling her phone to draw her into another room but her phone is currently playing the music fueling her dance number. \n\nHe would have climbed under the bed, finished changing, and perhaps pretended his intention was to surprised her with plans for a romantic evening out. However, practically minded Laura had turned the space under their bed into a highly organized and well packed storage space.\n\nPhantom man started to despair. \n\nShe has stamina to rival any opponents I have faced as of yet. He marvels. Surely, had Nefazoth the Jailer made use of her talents our confrontation would have ended differently.\n\nWith all possibilities exhausted, our hero must wait, hoping that an opening will present itself before his powers reach their limit and Laura finds herself suddenly in the presence of a man clad only in tight black pants and an matching face-mask. Not only will his identity be revealed; he feels he will have to explain some rather awkward situations. Situations that would be impossible to explain, but for the presence of an invisible man. \n\nAudible sneezes occurring when Laura swore she was alone in the shower, leaf piles raked tall and high onto the neighbors lawn despite no one being seen doing so, feces from unruly dogs, always showing up on the neighbors' lawn and steps but never on their own.\n\nPhantom man has rarely been in such a bind but, trapped in an inescapable bind, he is only moments away from finding himself having a lot of explaining to do.", "Without knocking, she walks in. Early. Its 2 and work doesn't get out until 2:30. I give one more flex to the mirror. I take my mask off as she walks in. \n\"Jim, why are you wearing your Halloween costume?\"\n\"Well I was thinking about some role play, pretty lady.\" I make a swift step towards her and put her chin in my hand.\n\"The last thing I want in my head during that is you in those tights again, Jim.\" She laughs. \"And I wish you'd get rid of that thing already, are you gonna wear it next year too?\"\n\nBefore I can talk, a police car zooms down main street passing our condo.\nI look at her. I look out the window, then back at her.\n\"What, Jim!?\"\nI take a hard look out the window before speaking. \n\"I wonder if everyone's... OK.\" With the smoothest tone of voice on OK. Superheros always sound smooth.\n\n\"Who cares Jim?\" She almost sounds mad at me for caring.\n\"Its a small town honey-bun.\" I say. \"The police force isn't the biggest and if it's something big they may need help.\"\n\"Its probably nothing dear. I love how caring you are but there's nothing you can really do.\" \nI laugh in my head. I'm Beefcake-Boy, of course I can help. She looks down at her phone and I give a quick flex at the mirror. I make my way back towards the window upon hearing faint sirens. I give a double-take at her to make sure she isn't paying attention.\n\"Jim, I had a long day at work. It was slow. Can you just come to bed and watch some TV with me? Oh, and get out of those tights.\"\n\nAs I'm making my way out of the bathroom from changing I notice a handsome man in the mirror. Then I realize its just me. A quick flex and I'm out into our bedroom.\n\n\"There's not much on Wednesday nights.\" She says while flipping through the channels. Then, she stops on the local news. \n\"This just in, local elementary school sets fire while kids are locked inside.\" \nJitters erupt from my body. My hands are clammy as I keep my head straight only moving my eyes to the right to see if she notices. \"We're also getting the report that a gunman is inside with the children, along with a wild lion.\" I glance over at the window quickly. \"Were also hearing from an unconfirmed source that an airplane has been highjacked, and is said to be heading towards the school.\"\n\nI spring out of bed, standing tall. \"I can't take this anymore, cherry pie.\" She give me a look of craze. \n\"Take what? You don't want me living with you?\" \n\"It's not that. Sugar plum I have to tell you something.\" She gives me a look of sadness now. \"I. I-\" \n\"You what?\" I tear off my shirt to expose that my green and blue tights are still on. \"Baby, I'm Beefcake-Boy. The world needs my help.\" I lift a leg towards the window and smash through the glass with my foot. While sitting in the windowsill, one leg in, one out, I look back at her: \"You'll understand one day.\" I blow her a kiss and give her a flex.\n\"Oh Beefcake-boy, you make me melt!\" Not another word is said as I bring my other half through the window and run down the street.", ">Not exactly moving in, but close enough. Enjoy.\n\n\"Master Wayne! Master Wayne!\" Walter rushed to Bruce's side. \"There has been a breach in security!\" Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"Well... erm... remember that lady you left at the party?\"\n\n\"Yes...\"\n\n\"Well... she broke into your closet.\"\n\n\"She... she found the batsuit?\"\n\n\"The early prototype batsuit, sir.\" Walter shifted his gaze. \"The... erm... fuzzy one.\"\n\n\"The one from Micheal's Mascots?\" Walter nodded. \"Walter, what did you tell her?\" Walter averted his haze. Bruce grabbed Walter by the lapels and shook him. \"Answer me, Walter!\"\n\n\"I... I....\" Walter seemed to choke. \"I told her you were a furry!\" His voice echoed through the hall as he half-sobbed, half-yelled. \"I told her that you found comfort in fuzzy things after your parents died!\" Walter fell to his knees and grabbed Bruce's leg. \"Oh please, pleeeease forgive me si-ir!\" He sobbed.\n\n\"Did she believe it?\"\n\n\"Y-yes...\" Bruce patted Walter on the head.\n\n\"It's alright Walter,\" said Bruce. \"It's alright.\" He suddenly stopped. \"Did he see my pictures of Cat Woman?\" Walter wailed and dug his face into Bruce's thigh. \"Walter!\"\n\n\"I TOLD HER IT WAS YOUR FETISH!\" The echo seemed to last for hours. For the first time in his life, Bruce facepalmed. \"I AM SO SORRY MASTER WAYNE!\"\n\n\"Is she still up there?\"\n\n\"N...no...\"\n\n\"Where did she go?\"\n\n\"She said she was getting something to... to...\"\n\n\"To what? Walter to what!?\"\n\nThe doorbell rang. Walter and Bruce stared at each other for a moment, before they sprung into action. Walter rushed to the door, and Bruce ran into the parlor. God dammit Walter! Bruce grabbed a newspaper and sat down in his chair. What am I going to say? What am I going to do? He turned the page.\n\nWhere can I find another butler?" ]	4
	[WP] You are a super hero with a respectable power. However, the tiresome pressure to always be good wears on you and you slowly become a villain. The only person who notices is your side kick who is not ready to stop you. How does the confrontation end?	[ "\"You know I have to stop you.\" Ruthar said as he stepped from the shadows. The moonlight cast a faint light upon his face. benevolent determination set deep in his eyes. The man he was warning set his suitcase down with bravado. The light from the window revealed his grin as it raced across his face. At one time the grin could only be seen as just, but now it reeked of evil and contempt.\n\"You know that you can't.\" \n\"I have to try.\" \n\"Why? Because it's the right thing to do?\" The grin of the man faded into menacing discord. Ruthar took a step further into the light. His body was tense waiting to spring into action. The man could tell it was no bluff. His sidekick he had trained for years was opposing him now. \n\"Because If you won't, I will.\" Ruthar said as he pulled his fingers into a fist at his sides. \n\"Heh, I like you kid. That's why I took you in. Maybe part of me knew I would end like this. But just remember, I was once like you and so too shall you end up like me.\" The grin returned to the mans face as he floated his words. He had always been smooth as a hero. Not outspoken, but adept at speaking the truth. He stood just as he had when Ruthar confronted him. His hands rested at his side, relaxed. But at any moment they could be brought up in a swift punch. \n\"Perhaps, but that day is not here.\" Without warning Ruthar sprang forward. His immense speed would have caught any normal person off guard. But The man side stepped him landing a hard elbow into Ruthar's back. Ruthar tried to spin around to counter punch only to find a fist smashing his face. The punch sent him flying, destroying a table and sending papers fluttering into the air. Blood filtered into his mouth. He had no time to comprehend the sensation. The man had closed the gap and continued his throttling. Punch after punch levied into Ruthar's face. The man grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the solid concrete wall. The wall cracked and crumbled as Ruthar's body left a shallow imprint. His body could withstand supernatural abuse but it was at its ends. Ruthar slumped to the floor. His head swung as he tried to remain conscious. He knew he was no match for his master. He knew this was his end. The man walked forward as calm and collected as ever. He bent down and grabbed Ruthar by the chin. He looked ruthar over, inspecting the blood running down from his hair. Through his confusion Ruthar could see the mans eyes. All the light they once shined had faded. They were voids now. Cold and desolate. \n\"Perhaps one day you will be my better. Today is not that day.\" The man said. He turned around stepping over the broken table and picked up his suitcase left untouched by the brief battle. He plucked a hat from the coat rack and walked out the door. \"One day\" the words played over and over in Ruthar's mind as he slipped from consciousness. \"One day, but not today.", "I am alone.\n\nFor the first time in what seemed to be eons of unrequited empathy and self-sacrifice in the name of others, I am alone.\n\nThis foreign quiet comes with a whispered sigh and a dulling of emotion. For years I have pledged myself to others. Disregarded my personal wants -- my needs -- to ensure that they were kept safe and content. I have bled silently and invisibly for my friends, my family, and sometimes complete strangers without an ounce of complaint. It felt good at first. Many saw me as a friend. A hero. A savior.\n\nBut no more. \n\nThe betrayals. The unrequited affections from the general populace has left me broken. I was a shield for the people, now I lay jaded, fractured, and alone.\n\nAlone. \n\nDespite the uncountable amount of people I have bled for, my companion is the only one to see my descent into villainy. Only she weeps for me. It came slowly of course. Even she could not see the seeds of doubt and self-loathing that had begun to plant within, it was only until it claimed me in its dark web that the sickness began to show. The plague is visible now. It pains me to see her upset. Once a loyal and devout partner who showered me with support and affection; now a worried stranger who cannot stop what is to come. She has tried and tried; unwilling to face my transformation any longer she has departed. Her scent lingers, but like any hope for redemption it has faded into near-nothingness.\n\nI am alone. My surroundings begins to blur and I slowly fall into my bed, with dreams of me playing the hero creeping on the edges of my vision. My arm falls in front of me, the tourniquet gently kissing my scarred veins. ", "I sat on a high backed chair in a darkened room, the only light coming from a wall full of computer screens. Though the bright light of the monitors didn’t show it, the wall behind me was covered in posters from graphic novels and comics. It was hilariously topical, I always thought, to have a wall devoted to the original ‘supers’. \nIn a similarly hilarious event, I gained my power of time warp. I could perceive time in differently than normal humans, it traveled slower for me when I wished, and I could interact at a speed I would perceive as normal. All thanks to a barrel full of chemicals from a military convoy that spilled over me in a freak accident on the way to work. \nThe people called me many things, Timecop, Clock Man, Glocken. I always preferred Kronos, and wore an outfit that always called back to that original Titan, The father of all the gods of the greek pantheon. I was in that very same outfit watching the city through the cameras, like an all powerful Big Brother. \nKaren Walls, better known as R. Hood entered the room and stood in a relaxed pose, waiting for me to give an order, as always dressed in a red hood and armed with a bow. I held up a finger for one last quick scan of the screen and noticed a crime. \n“42nd street, just off the corner of 21st.” I informed her as we walked to the ‘Time Machine’. Not the best name for a Mustang, but Heroes had to be funny every now and again, so it was an easy compromise. \n“What’s the crime?” Hood asked, checking her hip mounted quiver of arrows. \n“Murder, Mugging, Rape.” I said grimly. I couldn’t save the man, but I could avenge him. We drove to the spot in under a minute, non-warped time. “Hood, to the roof. Find her.” I ordered, and like a good soldier she nodded and climbed to the top. \nI walked at a brisk pace, saving my power so I wouldn’t tire myself before a fight, walking down alley after alley before finding my target climbing up the fire escape of one building.\n“Widow!” I called out. “I was positive I had you locked away at the Big Top.” \n“Sorry Kronos, but the game there is just fruit flies compared to out here. So many big guys to feast on!” Widow said as she turned to me, her smile all pointy teeth. “Like you, why haven’t you and I got together, huh?” She twirled her hair and used the same charm that must have gotten her out of the psych ward. \nWith a sigh, I mounted the ladder and climbed to her in under a tent of a second, grabbed her by the throat and took her to the top of the building. Hood waited for me at the top, bow at the ready, but what she didn’t know is that I didn’t need her bow this time. \nWidows smile only grey larger and tears rolled down her face as the pain wracked her. “Oh, that’s right, a little rough housing first. I’ve been a bad-“ I cut her off with the full extent of my power. I twisted her neck full around and tossed her off the roof, watching as the limp sack of flesh tumbled around the walls and hit the ground with a bloody squelch. \n“Wh- what was that?” Hood asked, her voice still slow to me. \n“My resignation.” I said, walking slowly towards her. She pointed her bow at me now, string pulled fully back. “I’m so tired of this system. I have to follow laws meant for mere men. Lock up people as powerful as me while their victims get put six feet under.” Hood released the arrow, doing all she could to stop me. I grabbed the arrow from the air and twirled it between my fingers. \n“Now, I make the rules.” I stated, close enough now that I put the arrow back in Hoods quiver. Within a blink, I was gone, back at my base to grab the important stuff. I knew the way the game would work, the comics always played out the same. \nHood would replace me, fighting to save her friend from what she must believe is a madness that took root all of a sudden. The city would reel from the news that their Sword and Shield had turned against them. And, in the end, I would be liable to die in some last moment change of heart saving the city from a nefarious plan I had hatched, and would be laid to rest along with my victims, at least what they could find of me. \nSo much better than the alternative, to retire peacefully and have the entire of the super hero world nag me to come out of retirement. As I left the building me and Hood had used for years together, I was saddened only by the loss of her. At an earlier time when I had nearly done what I had just completed, she came into my life and kept me on the straight and narrow. She was the last bit of good I had, and that’s why I had to go. \nBefore, she was my sidekick. Now, she would be a hero, the one the city truly needed. \nRed Robin Hood. \n", "I stand over the blazing remains of the park. I set off the napalm at the perfect time to accuse my nemesis, known as the Block. I have almost completed disguising myself as a hero, traumatized with PTSD because I couldn't make it in time. As powerful as electrokinesis is, there is nothing it can do after napalm is set off. As people start to walk towards the park, I fall to my knees. Being a superhero, I learned to be a great actor. I force tears down my face, and begin screaming about how I couldn't make it in time, cursing the Block, and rolling on the ground as if in physical agony.\n\n\"Legacies,\" my sidekick starts. My heart almost stop. It wouldn't be too difficult for her to know that I set off the napalm.\n\n\"Come on, Legacies,\" She says in a soothing tone. \"We have to leave.\"\n\nI let off a few convincing cries of \"no... no! NOOOOO!\" Before she uses our basic teleportation device to send us back to our base in low orbit over Earth. I lie on my bunk, letting off a few fake sobs.\n\n\"Cut it out!\" She says in a harsh tone. \"If you were done protecting people, it's not that hard to disappear! No one can get in here but us. I would have picked up your role. We have the technology for me to replace you as Earth's hero! But you went and MURDERED dozens of people so you'd have an EXCUSE to run and hide.\"\n\nI sit on the bunk silently. She walks over to the desk. \"It ends now. You won't have to run and hide,\" she says with her back turned. She turns around, holding a gun. \"You'll be dead. If I destroy your heart, you won't be able to shock it back. You'll be dead, and you won't be a threat to anybody any more.\"\n\nI'm stunned for a second. Then I begin to laugh. \"You can't kill me! You're in my debt! I saved your life millions of times! Even if you bring yourself to shoot me, you actually won't be able to!\"\n\nA loud blast shakes the room. The last words I hear sound like they're coming from a million miles away. \"Vengeance is stronger than gratitude.\"" ]	4
	[WP] A God is dying. His sons and daughters gather, hoping to inherit his powers.	[ "\"Father!\" His mighty knee met ground, sending one final tremor shaking the creation he so loved. Eons of wisdom. Ev.. Everything to this. What will it be without him?\n\n\"Father, we are here.\" My brother and I kneel on opposite sides of his resting place. It was dark. Darker than I had ever known before. There was more light before He created it all. He,The Light, the being I have dreamed of becoming all of my life. \n\n\"My sons.\" He spoke to us just as calmly as ever. What did he have to fear? He is the Absolute. \"I love you both. You have made me so very proud, as I believe you will continue to do.\" My little brother having spoken with Death knew this was coming soon. Today however it drew all too near. Tears I had never seen before swelled in his eyes. He tried to speak but a broken voice stopped him. No words need be said. Today is the day one of us dies, one is deemed God and the other is damned.\n Being the eldest I have been destined for my fathers throne centuries before my brother. I was by Father's side long before the two of us as young-lings created our first galaxy. My brother is still far to foolish and full of pride to attain such power. My thoughts broken. A deep bellow, not a cry from opposite our Father but a roar. \n\n\"My sons, please. Stand together for me at the foot of my bed so that I may see you both together one last time.\" Father in is final moments shined as bright as ever. Seeing us together, his love burned so bright it cast shadows on the stars. And then blackness.\n\nTogether we stood. The silence seemed to last millennia.\n\n\"Brother?\"\n\n\"Yes?\n\n\"How is your spirit?\"\n\n\"I do not know this feeling. I wish to cry yet I have run out of tears. I still feel Father's love in my heart. I still feel yours as well brother, but, I feel hollow.\"\n\n\"This is pain dear brother.\"\n\n\"I wish..\"\n\n\"Stop. Regret will consume you. This pain, it will cut deep. It will continue to cut even when you beg for mercy. Brother, we are that mercy. We must be strong.\"\n\n\"I cant yet! Do you not care at all! Our Father, Everything! Everything to us, everything around us, EVERYTHING WE ARE IS GONE. The being we have dreamed of being, pretended to be. We both know what this means for you brother and I am proud, but, now I lose you both. You haven't even shed a tear yet I have flooded planets by now.\"\n\n\"My favorite thing about you brother is when you speak answers you seek without even knowing you do so. Remember his love.\" As i spoke my chest grew brighter. \" He is gone from us now indeed. However; he will be with us forever if you remember his lessons. Recall his influence.\"\n\n\"Like when we unparalleled those universe and crashed them?\" Both of us couldn't help but laugh. \"We though we were going to be thrown into the Big Star for sure that day!\" The light now came from both of us lighting up everything just as our Father had for so long before. \"Look!\"\n\n\"I've told you before brother, He will always be here. This was made for us. Commanded under his influence, all of this is ours now. I do not wish to rule this kingdom alone. You and I are are opposite sides of the same plane brother. Imagine what we could accomplish working together!\"\n\n\"More mixed up universes?\" \n\n\"Precisely! I've already got an idea. Little beings, male and female. Made in our image but way, way, way smaller. Small enough we can put them on that planet in that solar system that came from our crash.\"\n\n\"What about all the other creations we have put there?\"\n\n\"Well, that's the experiment. Perhaps these will prosper and create just as we do.\"\n\n\"You are giving them our power too??\"\n\n\"Just to work and to reason.\"\n\n\"This ought to end well...\"\n\n\n", "He lay upon a mountaintop, amidst adoring birds singing in chorus, a line of goats silently approaching and passing Him by, and a great oak tree shielding them from the noon sun. \n\nWith a flash, four figures cloaked in shadows disturbed the serene scene, a flock of birds trilling in fear as they flew, goats bleating as the stampeded down the sheer mountainside. A smell of camphor and cinnamon filled the air, cloying in its sweetness. An irritated look from Him, a gust of wind, and a shifting of the oak branches above, and the scent returned to oak and soil and mountain air, the four figures laid bare.\n\n\"YOU HAVE COME.\" He shifted in his mossy litter, and turned His piercing eyes on His children. They shrunk back, trying to hide from His gaze, unable as always to do so. Only one had ever been able to, the one that was not there.\n\n\"MICHAEL.\" Unable to resist, the tallest and greatest of them all fell to his knees and met his father's eyes. \"YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY GREATEST FAILURE. YOU ARE NO LONGER MY SON. ANETHMA. ANETHMA. ANETHMA.\" Michael screamed, and the entire earth shook with its pain. The earth around them tore asunder. And the mountain stood untouched. Michael fell, his throat spent, only silent screaming coming from his tortured body.\n\n\"GABRIEL.\" Gabriel fell prostrate, struggling to keep his poise. \"I MADE YOU FOR OTHER THINGS. LEAVE.\" Gabriel's body was thrown from the mountainside, disappearing in a moment. \n\n\"RAPHAEL.\" Raphel fell, screaming, \"I should have followed Lucifer!\" This time there were no screams. Raphael simply fell apart, dissolving into nothing. A piece of paper drifted to Him, and crumbled into dust. He turned to the last figure, and met his eyes.\n\n\"JESUS.\" Jesus fell, confusion in his eyes. \n\n\"I did everything you asked! I did what you could not!\" Jesus struggled to regain his feet, but he was kept down.\n\n\"YOU DIED WHEN YOU DID NOT HAVE TO.\"\n\nAnother scream, the pain even harsher than the first, heartbreaking, soultearing. Jesus collapsed. \"You told me I had to.\"\n\n\"I SOUGHT TO MAKE SOMEONE IN MY OWN IMAGE. I NEVER NEEDED MAKE YOU. ONLY HE WAS MY EQUAL.\"\n\n\"I. AM. LUCIFER.\"\n\nThe old man dissolved as Raphael did, and the oak tree fell, rotten away. Jesus crawled to help Michael, and he wept.\n\n\n", "As I lay on my deathbed, I closed my eyes with a weary sigh. Why did dying have to be so complicated lately?\n\n\n\nI remembered when you wanted to die before, all you had to do was go out in the woods, pick a spot you liked, and lay down and die. \n\n\n\nNow, everybody had to die in a hospital. Even gods. Die hooked up to machines and respirators, your arms stuck full of wires and needle marks, pumped up full of liquids and oxygen with plastic tubing shoved up your nose. I looked ridiculous. I could hardly even recognize myself anymore. I could hardly even move anymore. Just lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, occasionally asking the nurse if she could change the channel.\n\n\n\nAll I wanted to do was go outside one last time. Feel the grass beneath my toes, the wind blowing through my hair. Lie down in a big open field or beneath the shade of a big oak tree, and let the world take me.\n\n\n\nBut now, my last glimpse of the world I created was going to be out of a plexiglass window. At a sod lawn with a petunia flower bed, across the street from a Home Depot. \n\n\n\nThey had tried to make everything nice for me. Clean sheets. Fluffy pillows. Flower paintings. Bingo games. As if to distract me from the fact that I was dying.\n\n\n\nPeople were beginning to lose faith in me. I don't blame them. I was beginning to lose faith in myself. \n\n\n\nI'd been in the hospital for hundreds of years now, kept alive on life support. People's faith was running out. Sure, there were still some people who believed, and there probably always would be, but it wouldn't be enough to keep me alive much longer.\n\n\n\nI always used to be a bit of a control freak. A perfectionist. I hated it when things didn't go exactly my way, because it felt like people were trying to ruin the work that I had spent all my life trying to achieve. Maybe that drove people away. I don't know. \n\n\n\nI've been trying to get better lately. Have a few less regrets. Death has this way of putting everything in perspective. I learned that maybe just cause I hate shellfish, it doesn't mean other people can't try it. Maybe getting a tattoo or working on Sundays isn't the end of the world. \n\n\n\nBut it seems like no matter what I do, the blame always gets cast on me, even if it isn't really my fault. Like people will praise my name when they don't have to wait in line at the laundromat, and the next damn me to hell because they get their tie caught in the car door. \n\n\n\nNow, the elections were coming up, and it was up to me to decide who would be the next person to inherit the earth. Suddenly I had all these angels who I had never even seen before in my life coming to visit me. Claiming to be my second son or great aunt or fifth-cousin removed or whatever. People sent in their applications, people who have studied for years for this very moment. Lists of proposed changes, improvements. Earth 2.0. \n\n\n\nAll these people, claiming they'd change the world for the better. But they didn't want to make the world better for everyone. All that they wanted was to make the world better than themselves. They think by getting rid of traffic or mosquitoes or people who text on their dates would be a good idea, or wouldn't have consequences. But in my own personal experience, it was always those who wanted to change the world for the better who ended up doing the most harm. \n\n\n\nAnd maybe I'm a bit old and set in my ways, but I was starting to get pretty fond of this old world. It grows on you. It sure wasn't perfect, but neither was I.\n\n\n\nSometimes, all I wanted to do was descend from the heavens, and lay a hand on that crying man's shoulder, sitting on the park bench alone. Tell him 'hey, everything's going to be okay.' But I couldn't. Because it might not be.\n\n\n\nNow, I was surrounded by hundreds of thousands of angelic paparazzi and politicians, doctors and lawyers, and not a single person I could call my friend. Everyone likes to talk about \"God's Will\", yet here I am, with the paper in hand, and I can't think of a word to say. \n\n\n\nI leaned my head to the side, eyes stinging. Part of me wanted to cry. But I couldn't in front of all these people. All of them were leaning in, notepads in hand, cameras held, holding collective bated breath, waiting for my last words. All eyes were on me. \n\n\n\nThe pen was in one hand, the paper in the other, but my hands were old and feeble. Trembling so badly I couldn't even write my signature. \n\n\n\nThe lawyer sitting across from me smiled, and gently lifted the pen out of my hand.\n\n\n\n\"Now.\" He said, with a click of his pen. \n\n\n\n\"Tell me your plans for this world.\" \n\n\n\nI felt my heart pounding, the paper getting slick and sweaty in my hand as I felt all the eyes on me. A god dying was a pretty big deal. I was terrified. I couldn't think of a single person I trusted to run the world. What if I fucked up? This decision could change the world forever. \n\n\n\nBut then again, maybe it wouldn't. \n\n\n\nSlowly, as if detached from myself, I felt my hand beginning to crumble up the piece of paper. I could hear the collective gasps, and couldn't help grinning to myself. Maybe this was crazy, or selfish of me. But this was the only thing I could think of to do. This was going to be a PR disaster for sure, but I was going to be dead soon and they couldn't do a damn thing about it. \n\n\n\nI crumbled the ball tighter, and clenched it into my fist. My breaths came more labored, each one becoming a conscious effort. But I'd made my decision. I laid my head back against the pillow, and closed my eyes. \n\n\n\nYou know, this was a pretty alright world, as worlds go. It still has a lot of problems. A few kinks to work out. But it's tough. Maybe it can take care of itself. It's been through some pretty crazy shit. Maybe it's not up to me anymore. Maybe it was time I let the world go.\n\n\n\nI smiled as I felt my hand slacken, and let the paper fall, and roll across the floor. I felt hot tears start to stream down the sides of my face as I looked up at the florescent lights up above, and pretended they were the sun.\n\n\n\nHell, people put their faith in me for hundreds of years. Maybe it was time to put my faith in the world.", "Halim unbuckled his waterskin from the camel's side. His first instinct was to gulp it all down, such was the ferocity of the desert heat, but he took a mere few sips, corked it shut and moved it back in its place among the various leather bags and containers strapped on his ride.\n\nHe looked about him. Endless sand for the most part, excluding the far-off shape of a gigantic fallen figure in the distance with a pole sticking out of its chest - it seemed to almost blend with the blue sky, a white silhouette dancing in the wavering air.\n\nHalim remembered tales of how the desert wind can distort space in the wanderer's eyes. He pulled the neighs on his camel and it came to a lazy stop. He ruffled about in one of his bags, got out a map and a compass.\n\nThe map was almost comically empty, barring a few structures scattered about. At one place was a big, black X, circled vigorously and with the text \"GOD\" written over it. He consulted his compass.\n\n\"Yup, it's where it seems to be.\" he said out loud. He patted his camel's side. \"Honestly, Xandra, I don't know what you're worried about! We can see the damn thing day and night, we couldn't possibly lose our way.\" And it would mean almost certain death, to get lost in this hellish place, he thought. But he kept that to himself. He packed his things and carried on.\n\nHe was dozing off when he heard a voice coming from his side. \"Oy! Oy, traveller!\" He woke with a start and turned to find a man on a horse trotting alongside him.\n\n\"That's a peculiar ride you got there! Is there something wrong with your horse?\"\n\nHalim laughed. \"You're not from around here, are you?\"\n\n\"Indeed I am not, sir.\" The man was getting closer now. \"I hail from lands too far to recount. Name's Edward.\" He pointed to the far-off figure with his head. \"Heading for the fallen god yourself?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes.\" He eyed his new companion closely. \"So, you too must be...?\"\n\n\"That is correct, sir! My full title is King Edward Ericson the Third, ruler of the Western Isles. In my veins flows divine blood.\" He took a momentary pause. \"As, I presume, does in yours.\"\n\n\"That's right.\" Halim said. \"I am Halim of the desert plains. My line shares common ancestry with yours... as with his.\" He gestured at the silhouette.\n\n\"Well, you sure took your sweet time getting to him, didn't you? If you are from around here, you should have been at his side months ago.\"\n\n\"Pressing matters required my immediate attention. War taints my homelands.\"\n\n\"I see. Well, let's just hope there's something left for us when we get there!\"\n\nHalim nodded. \"We must be getting close. His visage grows larger by the day.\"\n\n\"Glad to hear it, Hal my boy, glad to hear it.\"\n\n-----\n\nThey were finally there. Others had predictably preceded them - a tall, black man was resting under the collective shade provided by about a dozen other men standing between him and the sun; a decorated, armor-clad oriental warlord was leaning against his horse; and an ornate, defiantly beautiful woman, clothed in silk and bare-chested, was eating off of a servant's serving hand. They all turned to them.\n\n\"Oh!\" bellowed the black man, standing up. \"More brothers from strange places!\" He was almost naked, save from a cloth surrounding his waist and a towering crown of bone and stone atop his head.\n\nThe Egyptian queen studied them. \"So many children, our father has had.\"\n\nThe Asian man spit on the ground. \"You are almost too late. He is about to pass.\"\n\nBehind them stood the side of the god's head, akin to a mountain in size. His body went off in the distance and the pole used to strike him down could be seen going off into the sky.\n\nThe new arrivals dismounted. \"Good,\" Halim said, \"we've made it, then.\"\n\nEdward studied the others. \"So, all of us... you all had the same vision?\" They nodded.\n\nThe black man said, \"I am Zagatta, ruler of the southern jungles.\"\n\nThe queen chimed, \"I am called Isis, and I ordain the lands west of the Great River.\"\n\nThe warlord touched his sword and stated, \"I am the Great Emperor Sujin. I have earned my birth-right through blood and flames in the lands of the far east.\"\n\n\"My name is Edward Ericson the Third, King of the Western Isles.\" recounted Edward.\n\n\"And I am Halim.\"\n\nThe others turned to him, expecting more.\n\nThere was a brief silence.\n\n\"I bring water.\" He took out his waterskin.\n\n\"Oh, thank heavens!\" cried Isis. \"We have been waiting for so long, our supply has long since dwindled. To think that I, the great Isis, was reduced to drinking the sweat of my divine father...\"\n\nShe motioned for one of her servants to fetch her the leather bag. She gulped some down and passed it to the oriental emperor. The bag went around, including the servants, until it returned to Halim.\n\nSuddenly, a voice echoed around them. \"You have gathered.\"\n\n\"Great Father!\" cried Emperor Sujin. Everyone turned to face the giant head.\n\n\"My children...\" the god's voice was like a great wind passing over them, melodic yet powerful.\n\n\"My essence is fleeting. After a battle that has raged for 7 long years, a great opponent has managed to fell me.\n\n\"Rest assured! I dispatched the devil in the end. But he managed to sink his claws into me, deep enough that the wound be fatal.\n\n\"Before I perish, I wish to empower you with my last gifts... you will be my legacy, so that I may touch eternity through your great deeds and accomplishments.\n\n\"Come forth... Edward.\"\n\nEdward took a step forward.\n\n\"Take from my ear the red stone.\"\n\nThe king went for the god's ear. It had several jewels embedded at its rim, one of which resembled a giant ruby. Edward obediently removed it from its place.\n\n\"To you I give the gift of power. As long as you hold this gem, you will never again lose a battle. You will be impossible to subdue even in the face of a multitude of foes and your command will be absolute to the most defiant of subjects.\"\n\nEdward bowed solemnly. The others whispered in envy.\n\n\"Sujin!\" The emperor stepped forth. \"Take the green stone. To you, I give the gift of swiftness. It will allow you to overcome the greatest of distances in the blink of an eye. Your mind will be keen and sharp, as is your polished blade. No one will be able to outwit you.\"\n\n\"You honor me.\" Sujin bowed deeply.\n\n\"Zagatta!\" The black man approached. \"Take the pink stone. To you, I give the gift of charisma. No one will be your enemy, for no one will want to. Your rule shall be unquestionable and your people will give their lives for you. You will be loved and celebrated by all.\"\n\n\"Ooh, ha, ha!\" laughed Zagatta. He, too, took his stone and bowed his head.\n\n\"Isis! My beloved daughter.\" The queen walked to the head and held it lovingly with her hand. \"Take the blue stone. To you, I give the gift of clairvoyance. As long as you possess this jewel, you will see clearly into the future, as well as into people's hearts. You will have knowledge of things seemingly impossible. No one will be able to betray you in the slightest of ways. Lies will be meaningless in the face of your penetrating gaze.\"\n\nShe removed the sapphire from his ear. \"Oh father...\" she started saying, when suddenly, she stopped. She lifted her head, turned it one way, turned it the other. \"Wait one second. What is...\"\n\nAnd she collapsed.\n\n\"Isis!\" cried Zagatta, but he was on the desert floor before anything more could be done. The others followed... all, except Halim. Halim was smiling.\n\n\"You... who are you?\" bellowed the god.\n\n\"You are not the only one capable of mortal offspring,\" stated the nomad. \"Just as you have your chosen, so does my own father... the one whose pole you have stuck in your chest.\"\n\n\"No... you can't...\"\n\n\"It is too late. They are all dead.\"\n\nHe went through the bodies, one by one, collecting the stones.\n\n\"And thanks for the gifts. They will prove quite useful, I am sure.\"\n\nHe closed his eyes. He vanished and re-appeared at the top of the pole, kilometers above land. He looked down at the god's face.\n\n\"Wow, these are great. No wonder my ancestor could not defeat you without perishing, himself.\n\n\"My rule shall be indomitable. And I have you to thank... You and your vain legacy.\n\n\"Now, be gone.\"\n\nHe jumped, higher than one ever possibly could, and landed with great power at the pole's apex. A cry was heard for miles around. The last cry of a fallen god.\n\n-----\n-----\n^(edit: slight word changes)", "Five cats crouched around a dying panther.\n\nOne was grey, and her body shifted like smoke.\n\nOne was black, and her eyes were a swirling blue.\n\nOne was brown, and her paws were one with the earth.\n\nOne was red, and the air around her shimmered from heat.\n\nAnd one was white, and white, and white, and *white*.\n\nThey were here from their five corners of the four-sided world, a realm where no man has walked or seen or dreamed, a pyramid of a place where from all gods are born.\n\nThe panther that lay dying was the mother of all gods men know, and all others that they do not. She was grandmother to universes, sister to creation, and the font of Existence.\n\nAnd her heirs had gathered, to witness which one of them would ascend to their mother's role.\n\n\"Girls,\" purred the panther. \n\n\"Mother,\" the cats said together.\n\nHer chest heaved, and she coughed up ichor onto the ground before her. Then she laughed, and the cats looked to each other in uncertainty.\n\n\"What an impossible choice before me. My beautiful daughters, you are each as perfect as I could ever desire, and yet, none of you are me.\"\n\nHer eyes were dim and fading stars. \"No, not one of you could do what needs to be done.\"\n\nThe grey spoke. \"I am clever, mother, I understand your work best of all. I can do what needs to be done.\"\n\nThe black spoke. \"I am changeable, mother, let me become much as you are. I can do what needs to be done.\"\n\nThe brown spoke. \"I am strong, mother, I can survive the challenges of your role. I can do what needs to be done.\"\n\nThe red spoke. \"I am powerful, mother, as powerful as you yourself ever was. I can do what needs to be done.\"\n\nThe white did not speak. But the others looked to her as if she did, and her eyeless face turned to each of them in turn.\n\n\nThe panther closed her eyes, and for a small eternity, her daughters feared that she had died. But then she shuddered, and spoke. \"None of you can do what needs to be done. And no matter what I choose, nothing will ever be the same. The old gods will die with their creations, and be forgotten, and the new gods will be nothing like the children of my own body.\"\n\nHer star eyes opened, and burned, and flickered, and shifted, and were one with of all of creation. \"This is the dawn of a new era, and you are my heralds. Serve me well, daughters. All of you.\"\n\nThe cats bowed their heads in respect, and so none of them saw their mother pass. When they looked up, she was gone. And when they looked to each other, they saw each of them had a new eye, starry upon their brow. As well, they were no longer cats as they had been, but neither were they panthers as their mother was.\n\nA grey lynx, black cheetah, brown serval, red lioness, and white leopard were gathered in a circle. \n\nThey looked to each other, and bowed, and left to the five corners of their four sided realm. \n\nAnd from those five came gods, and universes, unlike any of those that had come before." ]	5
Edit: I'd like to say thank you to the three people who took the time to write a story based on my prompt. Every writer should be paid for their work at some point or another, so have a gold on me.	[WP] She plants a sapling in the park every winter even though she knows it will not survive. This year there is already a hole dug in the frozen ground when she arrives.	[ " It was her yearly pilgrimage. Every year she walked through the frozen park, carrying the delicate sapling. Her feet crunched softly in the grass and she felt the weight of her small shovel. As she approached the spot, her eyes alighted on a small hole that had been dug. She froze and glanced around, looking for someone, anyone. The plant and shovel were placed on the ground. Once again, she looked around, looking for any movement. She could only see the trees moving slightly in the frigid breeze. Her eyes came back down, pausing on the freshly dug hole. Her hand grazed the edge, feeling the soft bite of the frost. She pulled the small sapling beside her, lowering it into the hole. A single tear fell, dampening the dark dirt around the sapling. The dirt was pressed around it's base, and the woman turned, turning her back on the sapling. Turning her back on her past. A single trail of footsteps led away from the drooping plant, it's single bossom swaying in the wind. She knew it would die, destined to waste away in the harsh cold of the winter. Before she ducked into her car, she looked back for a lost time. Far off in the distance she could see a dark shape kneeling in front of the tree, seemingly in silence. With a sharp movement the figure rose. As if it was a mirage, the figure melted away. The woman bowed her head in respect, and got into the car. The engine purred to life, and the car slowly drove off, leaving only a slight smell of ozone, and lost dreams.\n\nEdit: Thanks for the Gold stranger! First time getting it, so thank you so much!", "\"You know this poor little guy will never make it. Why do you do this every year?\" She leaves silently. The people at the nursery could never understand why she makes her yearly journey to that park, midwinter. She would never return to that park on any other day; it would be too painful. Her small white car drives along the winding path to the middle of the park. She grabs her shovel and the sapling and paces along the road to the exact spot she digs every year, but something is different. A hole is waiting for her. She whips her neck around searching. Searching for the one person who might actually understand. And up on the hill stood a figure. Almost ghost like. She dropped the sapling and began to sprint up the hill. She tripped as she made it to the top and stumbled to the feet of a man she once knew. \"Is it really you?\" She cried out. A hand reached down to help her off the frozen ground. She came face to face with the man that left her in this park, ten years ago today. \n\nTheir love had bloomed in this park. He spoke of how he would one day buy the park. And he would plant a tree right in the center of it to dedicate to her. A cherry tree, her favorite. And yet their love also withered in this park. It was on this hill years ago that he told her he was leaving.\n\nShe returned to the spot, on the same day, every year. She planted the sapling that he had promised her, and hoped that one day their love would bloom again. At last he had returned for her. She grabbed his hand and they sat on the bench talking for hours. As they were getting ready to leave, she once again went to the hole to finish planting her sapling. As she began to dig her hole she smiled down at the little tree. \"I hope you blossom too.\" But then, she looks down at the hole she made. Hadn't there already been a hole here? She quickly looked around for a hole that wasn't there. She turned solemnly to see that he was gone too.", "At the bottom of the hole there was a note. \n\"No longer will I stand idle as you leaf my children to die in the cold.\"\nAs she wondered what the note could possibly mean, she heard a rustling of leaves behind her as two branches snaked around her neck. There was a sharp crack like a branch breaking under a great weight and silence returned to the park. " ]	3
	[WP] You and your nine year old daughter are weaponless and alone. You've been bitten and have about twelve hours until you turn...	[ "We'd been sitting at the corner for hours already. Traffic had come to a full stop after some knucklehead caused an accident a few miles away that had the whole district blocked up. Details were still coming in off the radio, something about a herd of cattle and a circus crew getting mixed up with a monster truck rally. It was the craziest thing I'd ever heard. The news claimed we could be stuck here for another twelve hours at least. I considered turning my turn signal off, but didn't see much point. Maybe later I'd change my mind. If we'd been back home, I would've just walked Sammy home and come back for the car. Other people around us had already left. Unfortunately, this was our \"vacation.\" Out of state and not knowing the area meant sitting tight and hoping for the best, while Sammy entertained herself by chewing on my arm like she was a monster. I love my weird little gremlin. At least if we're having a bummed out vacation, we're having it as a family." ]	1
	[WP] Earth is losing its gravity with no explaination.	[ "In Geneve, Switzerland, a group of the most renowned scientifics in the world are sitting in a round table, in one of the underground laboratories within the CERN tunnels. \n\nI’m standing up next to Marie, one of our younger and most promising interns. She just finished speaking and glanced nervously at me, while everyone looks at her trying to determine if the whole thing is an elaborate prank, or if she is just crazy.\n\n“Did she just say that mass is irrelevant?”, professor H. asked me. If he was distressed, the robotic voice on the speaker didn’t show it.\n\nShe looked at me again, before answering. I nodded encouragingly. “Yes, professor, we discovered it eight months ago when doing a demonstration in my nephew’s science class using the ball-drop method to measure gravity.” She paused. “We measured gravity to be ~9.75 in different tests-“\n\nProfessor D. interrupted her, “Something that can be easily explained by a different in mass at the area where it was measured”.\n\n“Indeed, professor. Even the magmatic movement in the Earth’s mantle could cause discrepancies in the measurements. I wasn’t too surprised and explained this to the kids”. She smiled now “Some of them were feeling as if they made a big discovery, which was not too far from the truth after all”.\n\nI gestured her to continue. “One month later, I took one week leave to visit a quantum mechanics congress in Madrid – this is my field of research, you see – and I had the idea to measure gravity again.”\n\nMildred, the oldest person in the room and the only woman, said “Given Madrid’s altitude, it probably wasn’t the best place to compare your findings.”\n\n“Yes, you are right. I was not totally surprised when I measured ~9.73 with a gravimeter”. Marie hesitated. “However, before traveling back to Geneva, I took the train to Valencia to visit a friend from university, and I was glad to have an excuse to measure it again. It was ~9.73 too”.\n\nNobody was moving now. Some of the scientific were looking at her directly, while others were studying their hands, reflecting.\n\n“After that, I contacted my project leader at CERN revealing these findings” she continued. “A unit was created solely to study this phenomenon, and I asked to be included on it”\n\n“What have you done since then”, professor H. asked.\n\n “We contacted colleagues around the world asking them for measurements. They were all within the ~9.72 – 9.73 ranges. We also used GRACE-“.\n\nI interrupted her “The twin satellites used to measure mass and gravity fields around Earth”. \n\n“Yes,” she continued, “by the time we obtained access to GRACE, it was measuring an average of 9.69 around the earth. As of this moment, the average gravity is 9.57. We appear to be losing approximately 0.2G per month. The most surprising thing was that the mass of the Earth has remained constant during the same period”.\n\n“How can this be? Gravity has to be tied to the mass, or else we are living in a fantasy world”, professor D. asked.\n\n“The truth is we don’t really know Professor. There are no leading theories, except that physics as we know them won’t help in this matter. That’s why, apart from yourselves, we have called the most prominent scientists in string and quantum theory, as well as a few xenoarchaelogists”.\n\n“Xenoarchaelogists? Do you think aliens are stealing our gravity?” Somehow the robotic voice released a bit of the tension in the room, and some of the scientists laughed.\n\n“Well, at this point, we are not discarding any leads.” I responded seriously. “We are in a point in which if the loss of gravity stops, there won’t be too much damage, but if the rate continues, in twenty years only half of our gravity will remain. And in forty years… We don’t want to even consider the possibility of an exponential increase on the loss of gravity, but we have to, unfortunately”.\n\n“What will happen if the Earth loses gravity completely while keeping its mass?”, professor D. asked.\n\nMarie answered this time. “Well, we have theorized about this and, for starters, things not attached to the earth will float off into space. If you were to be inside your house, you would slowly ascend to the ceiling. Luckily, the strength necessary to hold you onto the earth is very low-”\n\n“I’ll get my chair reinforced with Osmium chains then”, professor H. said and some of them laughed.\n\n“Unluckily”, I continued for her “one of the first things to float away would be atmosphere itself”.\n\n“Also,” Marie said, “We speculate that the Earth will break down in its core, and also float off to space as small pieces of meteorite”. \n\n“In summary”, I added, “Either we find out how to stop this process, or we really have to invest all of our capabilities in the exploration and colonization of other planets”.\n\n“So the human race is basically doomed, aren’t we?”, Mildred asked.\n\n“Not if we start working now”, I concluded.\n\n\n***\n\nIn a distant universe, a machine of the size of the Vatican works in silence, projecting negative mass cosmic strings onto a single point in space.\n\nAt the Earth’s outer core, a blackness of the size of a five cent coin floats ominously over wild explosions of melted iron and nickel.\n", "Humanity had always had stories about the end of the world. Angry gods, a flood, overpolulation... People even started believing in the possibility of a zombie apocalypse.\n\nThose had all been things you can either blame on someone or fight against.\n\n-- highest human vertical jump: 117 cm --\n\nWhen things started losing weight it first seemed like a blessing and only some scientists were really worried. Transportation needed less energy, people started doing more sports and many physical processes became more efficient, which boosted economy.\nThe first year, humanity was euphoric. At new years eve the fireworks flew higher then ever and everybody forsaw a bright future, which they can't be blamed for. It was the second year that brought the problems.\n\n-- highest human vertical jump: 136 m --\n\nThe media reported strange behaviour of birds and the shores were full of dead fish. The ecosystem struggled to keep up with the changes, but the loss of gravity was too much. The atmosphere extended, which was ok for the humans at first, because they needed less oxygen to perform tasks at lower gravity, but some species of trees and plants didn't survive.\nAt that time even the funny gravity-shows stopped airing, people jumping on and off skyscrapers didn't seem too funny anymore since some jumpers just never came back down anymore.\nThis apocalypse could not be fought. There was noone to blame it on.\n\n-- highest human vertical jump: n/a --\n\nWhen the acricultural techniques failed, humanity fell into chaos. 4 billion people starved, millions died in riots and civil wars and the great nations lost control.\n\n\nIt was then that we revealed ourselves. In humanity's darkest hour, when they had lost faith in their gods, they were ready to accept new ones.\nWe graciously gave them the knowledge to restore the gravity of their planet and simultaneously shut down our gravity weapon. Soon they were willful servants to our great empire, just like all the other species before them. Never were they to learn that it had been us all along...\n\n\n--\n\n\nPlease consider that I am german and new to r/WritingPrompts :)\nHope you liked it!\nWalter." ]	2
	[WP] A terrorist group has began assassinating the world's wealthiest citizens. Attempts to stop them have failed and people are now afraid to own a large amount of money/assets.	[ "They didn't claim the kills at first, but the world was stunned at the loss of imminent innovators. Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerburg. Their organizations continued, but were enormously shaken. When their heirs were also found dead, the terrorists finally stepped forward.\n\n\"Too long have we remained in the clutches of the wealthy few. A man has no allegiance but to his family and loved ones. We will bring down the governments and the wealthy that place the pursuit of profit above the freedom of their fellow man. You have been warned.\"\n\nThere was panic as the wealthy began protecting themselves in larger and larger defensive installations. A huge market grew for body guard and militia for hire, but around the world, the wealthy kept dying, violently, publically. Eventually, the companies founded to protected the rich became wealthy, and also saw their CEOs assassinated. No one was safe. All success was met with death.\n\nSo we languished. No one wanted to burn bright, to succeed and struggle and triumph. Everything came to a grinding halt. As the tech sector failed, unemployment sky rocketed, and the hungry flocked in droves to agriculture and more basic industry. The terrorists never stopped.\n\nFarming and production giants formed, but were quickly dispatched, and before long, there were even musings of dissent within the terrorists own ranks as it's own leaders were dispatched, made an example of. And that's when it was over. They destroyed everything, all the art, technology, beauty, creativity, poetry, imagination, our ambition, and squashed every subsequent attempt to rebuild.\n\nNow we're all that's left, a generation ingrained with the outlook that effort was a death sentence, that stepping up was too dangerous. We tend our personal farms, stick to ourselves. It's a simple life, but our grandparents barely remember the luxuries of the past.\n\nIt's too bad really. The Jensens down the road keep driving a harder and harder trade for their dairy. ", "\"Shit, shit, shit!\" the short, fat, bald man was running down the street in ragged clothes, throwing around fat stacks of money. \"PLEASE SOMEONE TAKE IT!! PLEASE!!\" he kept yelling. \nBut everyone ignored him. The people walking were pretending like he doesn't even exist, though you could smell the fear, lactating from their pores. If you're sick fuck like me, you get off on it. \nThe fat man kept running and throwing money. I followed, but I don't think he noticed. \n\"PLEASE TAKE IT!!!\" the man ran up to a gorgeous looking woman, practically shoving the money down her shirt. \"PLEASE TAKE IT!!\" he kept yelling. Made me wanna giggle. \nThe woman managed to break free and run away. Baldy kept running and yelling. The fat fuck, so frantic, didn't even notice that he ran into a lonely, abandoned alley way. He was all alone...Well. Not really. He yelled and screamed and begged. That is until he noticed me. I stood there looking at him. Smiling. \n\"NO!! NO LOOK! I\"M BROKE!!\" he yelled. \"I\"M BROKE! I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY!!! \nI kept walking towards him, as he begged like a little pissant. I walked slowly, to prolong his suffering. \n\"What the hell do you people want?\" baldy said in tears. \n\"Sorry...\" I spoke \"...I'm not payed to ask questions.\" I gave Chubby one last smile and slid my knife in his mouth. \nBye Bye Fatty. ", "clink clink clink was the sound of thousands of coins, heirlooms and jewellery as they were tossed into the nearest trash bin. The accumulated wealth and vanity of 20 years did not seem to mean very much anymore. \n\n\"....And the group has posted 20 more names, almost every name in the Forbes list has been vacated.... Panic runs rampant through the streets of suburbs. Jewellery has been found littering the streets, as if it had rained from the sky. Looters from the group have begun pocketing the discarded wealth in bags for later redistribution in poorer areas.\"\n\n\"Maybe if I give it back they will spare me.\" This was the general sentiment among the wealthy as they desperately tried to get rid of all they had accumulated. \n\nEveryone who had been targeted thus far was the head of a major company who had taken advantage of citizens, either domestic or foreign. They had profited immensely off a combination of denying their workers basic insurance/holidays, forcing sweat shop workers to toil for less than nothing under the gun, and by having monopolies on the markets here at home. Everything had been going perfectly for them, until now.\n\nBill Allen was one such CEO. He was near the bottom of the Forbes list, which was now one of the very few survivors. All his friends in the business world had been brutally murdered and robbed at the hands of these terrorists. An immense hatred plagued his heart as a result of these new age 'Robin Hoods', attempting to bring communism back and distribute the wealth to these non-deserving cretins.\n\n\"They don't get it May. This is how capitalism works. Those with cunning rise to the top, and the rest are left to the bottom of the barrel. Its not my fault those urban people cannot fend for themselves in this world!\" He appealed to his wife, hoping to get some kind of reassurance from her.\n\n\"Look Bill, I've already told you this many times. I am grateful for what you do, and I am extremely thankful for everything you have bought us. But you can't be this far in denial! You are have simply won a geographical and genetic lottery, being born with your intelligence and in the area you grew up in, you were on the fast track to success. These people had absolutely no chance to get where you are today, they have a right to be upset.\" \n\nBill was fuming at this point. The one person he thought he could trust was turning her back on him in his final hour. \n\n\"May you ungrateful bitch! You say you are grateful for everything, but you bring up these contrary ideological assumptions when your support is most important? You are complicit in this mess just as much as I am. You have used my wealth to buy yourself everything you could have ever wanted!\"\n\nSuddenly he jumped on her with uncontrollable rage. He began grabbing anything that was near, from a fistful of diamond rings to her Prada bag, and mercilessly beat her. \n\nBill keeled over in a mess of panting and nausea. His wife lay next to him in a bed of jewelry that had been spray painted red. His children's screams echoed throughout the mansion. The gate had been unhinged, and there was a knock at the door.", "For some, money is the epitome of their life. Men and women of past dream dreams of an abundance of wealth, one that could be passed down generation after generation. People are materialistic beings. Combine that with a single life, you get slaves chasing after the carrot on the stick. Driven on by tales of the few successful, the unsuccessful majority is able to get up day after day. How horribly shocking it would be for them, seeing this world as it is now. \n\nWhen the absence of money is the key to staying alive, the system crumbles. The cogs and wheels fall. It’s an endless array of structural breakdown, spreading like the plague from country to country. But that was only the beginning. \n\nOriginally, the governments tried denial. When that failed, they went up in arms about defending the people against this terror group. That too, failed. When the blaming and pointing begun, it soon devolved into a cornucopia of politicians and officials screaming at one another as the world around them faced a threat beyond any comparison. \n\nThe rich were left to fend for themselves. They flew away in private jets. The planes were shot out of the sky. They hired the best bodyguards, hiding behind their precious meatshields. They, too, were killed. \n\nAs the lives of the top one percent were extinguished one after another, a worrisome question became apparent. What of the people in the two percent? And what about those in the three and four and five? \n\nThe question was promptly answered. \n\nWhen it became apparent that the only savior for these poor souls was the absence of money, they tried to rid themselves of this damned calling sign for death. But it soon became apparent that the killers cared not for that. If anything, it only hastened the pace at which they came for you. \n\nThe world finally knew the truest essence of despair. Everyone had their own ticking bomb. It was only a question of time. \n", "Lately there have been rumors of the wealthy building an army. People have been nervous ever since powerful moguls such as the Koch Brothers moved to St. John's in the virgin islands. We all thought they would be assassinated just like everyone else, but images have surfaced showing a massive barrier and large gate protecting multiple neighborhoods filled with lavish villas. What was left of the army followed these moguls to there remote island. They promised them safety, food, shelter, on top of a beautiful location. A video has recently surfaced showing a few hundred soldiers torturing and killing the people who don't reside within the gate. They are killing off the poor and sending a message, mass weaponry has deteriorated ever since the economy collapsed, people fear that the rich are holding bombs, tanks, and any weapon that could wipe out towns. People are even saying they heard Chicago was recently bombed and completely taken out. We feared that they wouldn't go quietly.. we hoped soldiers would side with us, but we were wrong. The storm is on it's way, and I fear it's going to be unlike any storm this nation has ever faced. ", "Jerry Bradley was a good man. He was a hardworking car mechanic living in New Orleans with his wive Sarah and his two children.\nPaying the mortgage on the newly acquired house was tough, but it was worth it.\nThe old city flat was too small and old, and he always had wanted to own his house.\nHe worked overtime and was often tired.\nSarah was looking for a job since the children were old enough to go to school, it would improve their situation.\n\nHis life plan was destroyed along his house and job by the hurricane.\nSarah and the children died in the new beautiful house while he was stuck in his car on the other side of New Orleans.\nThe house had been built on the lowest terrain, as it was less expensive, but this choice had sealed his family fate.\nJerry was heartbroken, and angered at himself, and tried to kill himself once but failed.\n\nWhen he saw that he still had to pay the mortgage for the damn house, and that the insurance was paying him a small part of what it was supposed to do, he snapped.\nIt was these guys' fault. They made him buy this deadly house due to the land prices and his poor paying job.\nThey were enjoying their wealth built on his loan and insurance payment, but denied to help him now that he needed it.\n\nHe was introduced by a friend in a similar situation to a group of people with similar grudges against \"the rich guys\".\nThey claimed to be part of a world underground movement promoting economic equality.\nJerry paid little attention to their \"great plan\" of \"killing the money itself, by making people reject it\".\nBut when the Leader spoke to him, in private, he was surprised.\nThey knew his story. And cared.\nAnd proposed to give him an opportunity to avenge his family on these rich insurance guys.\n\nThat's why Jerry is on this small speedboat in Miami today.\nThe world is starting to wonder why so much of the wealthiest had fatal accidents these last months, rumors are spawning everywhere.\nThe underground movement never made a claim, and stays an unknown threat in the shadows that hits anyone with too much money.\nJerry knows that as long as there are rich guys, the movement will never lack volunteers.\n\nWith the explosives in the back armed, he is speeding towards the brand new yacht owned by the CEO of its past insurance company.\nThere seems to be a kind of party on the deck. Jerry is happy. He will see his family shortly.\n\n" ]	6
-Plato	[WP] Only the dead have seen the end of war.	[ "Samuel fell. Barbatos loomed over him, sneering as his legions flew into the city behind him. \"It's over.\" \n\nSamuel watched as the wound in his chest grew larger. \"It's never over, Barbatos.\" \n\n\"Oh,\" Barbatos chuckled, \"normally I'd agree with you.\" He waved at the fire-lit city behind them. \"This has been a terribly long war, after all. But no, Samuel, this time it truly is over.\" The tip of Barbatos's sword lunged for Samuel. \n\nSamuel twisted and ducked under the stab and lashed out with a spinning kick. The kick hit Barbatos squarely on the chest and the general flew backward. Black wings unfurled and the general caught his balance.\n \nThe sneer was back. \"What did you hope to accomplish, Samuel? Kick me? Then what?\" He walked forward, watching Samuel carefully. \"You're dying. All I have to do is wait.\" He offered up his sword. \"Allow me to quicken it. There is no more fighting, only acceptance.\" \n\nThe sound of rushing air came upon them and a winged creature slammed into Barbatos. The two spun backwards into the air, a tangle of wings and hair. Barbatos came up first, and he slammed the hilt of his sword down onto the giant mass of flesh underneath him. The creature stretched his wings open. The air caught them and the two separated. \n\nBarbatos stared long enough to realize who his foe was and then bent over, laughing. \"You?\" He pointed his sword at the creature. \"You? You weak, pathetic, conniving--\" Barbatos threw his sword.\n\nThe creature side-stepped and the sword clattered to the ground somewhere behind him. The creature curled its lips and bared its fangs. \"A weak attempt from a weak warrior.\" \n\nBarbatos snarled. \"The war is over, Iblis, we won.\" \n\n\"No.\" Iblis furled his wings. Deadly, sharp claws extended slowly from his hands. \"Only the dead have seen the end of war.\"\n\n\"You are mistaken, Iblis. The war for Earth is over,\" Barbatos dropped into a crouch and spread his wings, \"but the dead have only begun to fight.\" He launched himself forward. ", "The shack stands alone at the edge of the road. My body, our bodies, crouched, gliding ever forward. The stillness of the house assures me that no enemy resides within its walls, yet stirs up something in the pit of my stomach. As the dark windows and grey, rotting door move ever closer, the knot inside me grows tighter. I wish to turn back, but my feet shuffle forward without pause. I wish for the crack of bullets and the shattering of the windows, but the house maintains its peaceful, dreadful silence. Suddenly, I feel my hand grasping the doorknob. Locked. I have a choice. I can turn around. I have no choice.\n\nI burst through the door, my two comrades behind me. A small table slams to the floor, and the pots and plates clang and roll throughout the small kitchen. Turning left, we enter the doorless doorframe to the only other room in the shack: a small bedroom. On the far corner of the bed, huddled against the wall, are a mother and her daughter. Guns raised, we begin shouting. I try to hold my mouth closed, but it’s no use. The vile words leave my mouth, and as they bounce off the walls, I know they are only for my ears. The girl and her mother can’t understand me. These condemning words echo around the room and return to me, where they belong. I wish for death, but it’s no use. I drop the rifle to my side and my left hand grabs the child’s tangled mass of hair, ripping her away from her mother’s grasp. Screams fill the air as the girl slams into the ground, landing on her knees and forearms. I watch as tears fall from her face and form a small puddle on the floor. My face begins to burn. I open my eyes.\n\nAlone in bed, the tears slide down my face. Thirteen years and this is still my nightly routine. I may have survived the war, but I won’t be free of it until I am dead.\n", "\"My son was a brave man, but even a brave man may still be courageous. Three days he fought. Three days he survived, by all accounts, on blind luck and by the skin of his teeth. On the fourth he died so that others may live. Yes, my son was a brave man, for if only he were a coward, he would be here.\n\n\"Now he lay with a simple headstone and a shiny metal trinket of brass and thread. Something that I will be able to proudly display in his honor as a mark of his bravery; his courageous behavior in the face of adversity. But there is no pride, no glory, for if only he were a coward, he would be here.\n\n\"His superiors assure me, he was competent. He was a fine soldier. He was an excellent marksman, and leader. All of this does not console me, for if only he were a coward, he would be here.\n\n\"So it is I mourn. So it is I wonder. Why do we extol that bravery, if only when it is put to rest, when all of us, as cowards, are here?\"", "The chess pieces were lined up on the old, battered board sitting in front of us, stained by age. It had been so long since I'd seen her face. She'd changed so much. But, her warm smile made it impossible to mistake her for anybody else.\n\n\"Daddy, why did you leave us? I missed you so much.\"\n\nI studied the layout of the board in front of me. My position wasn't the best. She had gotten much better at chess in the time we had been apart. I made my move. \n\nShe made hers, then \"Checkmate\".\n\nA voice came from the next room over: \"Hurry up honey, we're going to be late for the funeral.\"\n\nMy daughter stood up and left the room. The chessboard sat there, lonely, lacking both players. Across the road, a mother and her child watched as a flag covered coffin was lowered into the ground, tears welling at their eyes." ]	4
	[WP] Write a poem that can be read as either very vague or super specific.	[ " Mister Mister!\n I'm your sister\n do you not remember me?\n I know that its been awhile\n since you set sail across that sea\n \n The waves did rage and churn your ship\n and make you a here-wrecked man\n But if you close your eyes so tight\n remember me you may can\n \n Mister Mister, how you've changed.\n these trials of storm sun wind and rain\n weather your skin and face so grey\n its no surprise your memories have faded away\n \n that ocean there is famous still\n for all the people lost below\n it stands to reason, that to weather the season\n you had to evolve yourself to stay afloat\n \n and now here we stand, on this old land\n both changed at the hands of time\n but i still can not understand\n how you cant recognize me in those eyes.", "The sky is blue, except when it's not.\nOur winter that's cold, in Australia is hot.\n\nOne man's trash is another man's treasure.\nIt is completely possible to mix business with pleasure. \n\nA little strength can make the heavy light.\nAn eclipse can turn a day to night.\n\nTo the midget above, the giant below.\nA river that's deep in drought is shallow.\n\nThe world was flat, and now it's round.\nBut you know the interesting thing I found?\nFor most the world is small and square.\nSo think out of the box, if you dare! \n\nWith a little searching, you'll come to find,\nNothing is certain most of the time." ]	2
	[WP] A forgotten imaginary friend from childhood suddenly comes back.	[ "\"Stop it, you know I hate that.\" Jesse scolded Sir Picklesworth and waved the thin smoke away from his pale face.\n\n\"Bite me, this is who I am\" Sir Pickles worth commented. It was weird; seeing him like this made me cringe. I never thought an imaginary friend, once forgotten like a teddy bear or blanket and shoved into a dusty attic, would have aged along side me. \n\n\"Well could you at least not funnel your smoke at me?\" I sat, hunched over this SAT practice exam. Why? Why now? Why remember him now, only to bring him back into my life? He is so different from before. Sir Picklesworth slouched against a wall, pipe in hand. It was weird to give him the name I did, I mean for one, he was a tall, skinny (slightly rotten at the top really) piece of celery. His voice was now raspy, low like a thunder cloud, but sounded like it went through a cheese grater, probably because of all the stupid \"medical marijuana\" he smokes.\n\n\"What are you doing anyways? Why not go have some fun like we used to\" He suggested in his usual nonchalant tone.\n\n\"Because I told you already, I am studying for my SAT test tomorrow. If I don't do well, I won't get into a well established college\" At this point I was done. I gripped the cover and slammed my SAT prep book closed. 529 pages. Why did I need this book for a 50 page exam? Oh well, that wont concern me. I walked over to my door and closed it quietly. It was late, 10pm? Maybe even 11? Who knows, I've been at this all day. I flicked the lights and shuffled over to my bed. I laid down and threw the old red covers over my face hoping, just hoping that tomorrow, he would be gone.\n\n\"We there yet?\" the mumbling came from the back of my car. Shit. Not now, just go away. I have to take my exam soon; he can't be here. \n\n\"How about you stay here while I take my exam? That sound fair?\" He just looked at me, looked with those bright blue eyes. He always had a calming face. His hair, the leaves growing and falling over his face, still light green as ever. He looked, well I guess that would be sad. I had never seen him sad. I relentlessly sighed.\n\n\"Fine, come in with me. Just be quiet, I need to focus.\" Boy was that dumb.\n\n\"FIRE!! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!\" Nobody moved. Sir Picklesworth laughed and laughed after screaming. \"You would all be dead if that was real! No worries this was all just a drill.\" I motioned my hand to cut my neck, hoping he understood to cut it out. Thankfully he did. He walked up the aisle, sat on the test of the kid next to me, the sweaty one, nervous. I could tell, he keeps tapping his eraser on the desk, biting his left hand nails and skimming the room looking for a way out. He couldn't see him though. No one could, not even hear him. He was in my head though.\n\n\"B\"\n\nI cocked my head back. He was right. The son of a gun was right. I checked it and checked it. Still right. I turned the page and again it happened.\n\n\"X=36, make sure to show your work.\" He offered, apple bits coming out of his mouth. Where'd he get an apple? Oh he's imaginary..but still....a Red Delicious?? The only true part of the name was red. but to my surprise, he was right. we flew through the rest of the test, him providing answers, me checking them and them being right. I finished. Record time I think. I walked up the long aisle, must have been 30 feet or so, felt like a mile. I slipped the blue test booklet onto the wooden desk and the proctor looked at me in disbelief. \n\nAfter spending the next two weeks reminiscing and catching up with Sir Picklesworth, the phone rang\n\n\"Jesse Cartwell?\" A women spoke.\n\n\"Yes, this is him\"\n\n\"It appears we have something to talk about.\n\nA perfect score. I aced the SAT, why was I in trouble? Apparently acing it in record time was a problem. They made me take the stupid thing again, and again Sir Picklesworth and I aced it. They were shocked and congratulated me. I had really done it on my own. When we got home I turned to thank Sir Picklesworth, but he was gone, just like when I was 7. I guess it's true what they say. When you're stressed, weird things can happen and you just need to relax and see a familiar face. I mean really, you have the information in your head already, you just need someone to tell you that and reassure you. thanks Sir Picklesworth, thanks for showing me I could do it all by myself.", "The doorbell rang as I was preparing my lunch for the next day at work. When I opened the door and laid my eyes on the figure standing at the door, I felt an immediate rush of joy and I embraced Anthony, my childhood friend immediately. \n\nI had lived in the same since since childhood so it was no wonder that he was able to find me. \n\nAs I caught him up with the twists and turns that life has thrown at me, I noticed him listening intently. It's not often that you notice how skilled someone is at listening, until you realize that they actually care about every word your saying. I felt as though he was conjuring up every detail into his own imagination as I was describing it to him. It felt wonderful, and surreal. \n\nAnd thats where I cut myself off; I recognized my manners had temporarily left me as I indulged in my own stories, I had not heard a word from him on his life. And just as quick as I had that realization, came the second realization, and he was gone. \n\nI sat confused, and alone. I had been alone for quite some time acknowledged that my imagination was craving more. I called up AJ and asked if he wanted to go for a beer, knowing he wouldn't refuse the offer, for the sake of my own sanity. " ]	2
Describe there findings or expand :D	[WP] As man lands on a comet, they soon realize it is actually a derelict alien spaceship	[ "The pod landed with a dull thud, sending a jot through the small craft. As soon as the feet hit the surface Lt Plews hit the switch to to deploy the anchors causing a short, sharp crack as they slammed home.\n\nWhile the Lieutenant opened the solar collectors, switched the power from flight mode to stationary, and a dozen or more other small details, Captain Michael Winters unstrapped himself from the pilot's seat and made his way through the cramped interior of the vessel to the small laboratory in the back. It was here that they would study their samples and collate the data they would gather from the comet. The Captain was anxious to get started and the feeling of excitement was almost too much for him to contain. Two years of training and a decade long career with over fifty space-walks had led to this. To be the first man to set foot on a moving comet. As for his companion, that was a simple choice. Lieutenant Adrian Plews had been present at nearly all of the Captain's missions and the two had developed a close friendship over the years.\n\nIt took almost three hours to prepare for their first outing and they both buzzed with anticipation. Wordlessly the pair checked and re-checked each others suits before they up their box of tools and a few specimen jars and stood to wait for decompression in the air lock. They looked at each other and smiled.\n\nThe hiss of the airlock was shockingly loud and Captain Winters let out an explosive breath. They were lowered to the surface and stood looking out at the rocky expanse before them. Deep fissures in the rock leaked steam and occasional shards of ice would slam into the comet, sending chunks flying off in every direction. He stepped forward, the iron graphite beneath his feet was strewn with bits of gravel that made walking in the suit a little more awkward, but it was manageable.\n\n'Gravity's low, but we should be ok if we're careful,' he said to the Lieutenant.\n\n'Sure thing, Mike,' came the reply over the radio.\n\nAs they moved they found a suitable sample of ice, and one of rock laced with what looked to be silver. They were placed inside the small jars and dropped neatly into the pack. The pair separated to cover more ground, but decided to stay within visual range. Ahead of the Captain was a flat area that sloped upwards at around thirty degrees. There were markings.\n\n'Hey, Adi,' Captain Winters called, 'come check this out.' A moment later Adrian was at his side, staring open-mouthed at what he saw. Set in the ground was a door, covered with unusual markings that glowed faintly white. In the middle of the door was a hand print that was almost three times the size of a normal hand. Astonished, Michael put his hand against the imprint on the door, only to compare size, but as soon as his gloved hand made contact the door split down the middle and slid open with a grating sound. The pair stepped back.\n\n'Are you filming this, Adi?'\n\n'Uh-huh.'\n\n'Can you believe this?'\n\n'No, man. What do we do?'\n\nCaptain Winters turned to face his friend with a childish grin on his face. 'Only one thing we can do,' he said, before turning back and stepping down into the darkness of the open tunnel. Adrian waited for a moment only while he considered his options. He could return to the pod and wait for his friend to come back, or he could follow. Cursing under his breath he stepped down into the shadows.", "We touched down with a soft \"thump\" that reverberated through the frail lander. Lieutenant Allenson flashed me the thumbs up, confirming that we'd landed upright and that the anchors had deployed properly. We opened the hatch and climbed out onto the surface.\n\nThe first thing we noticed was the net. Thin, like gossamer strings, but strong like steel. It was unnoticeable to the satellite images of the comet that had prepared us for landing. \"Why a net?\" was the first thing we asked ourselves. The answer became apparent very quickly.\n\nThe comet did not have numerous microfractures and fissures, as we at first anticipated. The satellites had seen the many cracks in the surface and just assumed that it was porous rock. Instead, we found that it was made up of a large number of small rocks, lashed together with these thin nets to form one giant surface. The ground beneath our feet shifted with every step as the rubble rearranged itself.\n\n\"Why would someone do this?\" Allenson pondered. \"Why bundle up a bunch of rocks, then send it hurtling through space?\"\n\n\"It's not just a bundle of rocks,\" I realized slowly. \"It's a shield.\" We'd constantly worried about bits of space debris, and had never found a satisfactory solution; our ship was constantly at risk. \"The rocks in the net are a bubble, protecting something in the interior.\"\n\nWordlessly, we went back into the ship and got the explosives." ]	2
	[WP] On a world with wildly different climate zones, intelligent species evolve in each, ignorant of each other. Today, an explorer from one species meets a member of another.	[ "T'lonik flapped his membrane wings uselessly in the still air. They beat with a solid, healthy sound that raised his spirits even if it barely got him a few feet of elevation. Why, he wondered, did he come so far past the edge of the world?\n\nThe days here were bright and clear, and marvelously warm, but where were all the winds? It seemed the winds ended at the edge of his world. The great world-cliffs which bordered the known world acted as a perfect barrier, breaking all but the subtlest of breezes. It was almost inconceivable. Certainly, had T'lonik conceived such a thing, he would have thought twice about diving from the edge of the world-cliff and gliding down into the brilliantly lit valley he saw before him. \n\nThey had all said it was mad to go near the edge of the world. But curiosity ruled T'lonik, and he had spent weeks steeling his nerve to come closer to the edge, then to stand on the very brink looking out into the clear stillness where perpetual dust clouds did not blot out the sun. The beautiful sun, that one could sometimes glimpse by flying as high as the thermals would take one. Just as in the Furthest Sky, the air was brilliant pale green, and the warmth was continuous and did not flow from place to place in pockets of fast moving wind.\n\nBut that very lack of wind was now the problem. T'lonik, like all his people, had powerfully muscular wing membranes, sturdy enough to withstand the strongest winds, and flexible enough to sail their currents for hours on end. But here... with no more wind then a calm breeze, how horrible it now seemed as he stared helpless back at the top of the world-cliffs having no way back up them.\n\n\"P'kit!\" came a voice from behind him. Startled, T'lonik spun about and backed up quickly until he was up against a large boulder. There in front of him was a small creature, unlike any he had ever seen. \"P'rrrot. Ahik p'kit?\" it warbled at him, then tilted its head in a gesture that seemed plainly like curiosity. \n\n\"Ahkree, hezhur...?\" T'lonik said to the small creature. The creature took two quick hops back, tilted its head once more, then hopped once forward, hopefully. It clearly didn't understand him any more than he understood it, but it was strangely unafraid. T'lonik thought he rather admired that in a creature so much smaller than himself. He studied it, noting it was covered in a strange kind of fur that looked like a weird cross between fur and scales. \n\n\"P'rrroot,\" the creature said and it extended its upper appendages, shaking them in what looks distinctly like a flapping motion. T'lonik was surprised at how unnaturally long the appendages were, how out of proportion with the body of such a small creature. The appendages... no, rather, call them wings, for that was clearly what they were, although rediculously long ones ... beat the air in a manner more animated than was normally required and the creature lifted smoothly off the ground, flew the short distance over to T'lonik, and landed before him. \n\nT'lonik was startled by the suddenness of it, and turned and tried to fly away before he realized he could not get more than a short hop off the ground here. A surge of fear had fed his strength, allowing him to lift off and get a few spans away before relentless gravity took him back to ground once more. He spun about, facing the creature which was already hopping to close the short distance between them. \n\n\"Renoo Ahik p'kit howe?\" the creature said, now practically in T'lonik's face once more. \n\nT'lonik began to panic as he realized he could not escape, but he was simultaneously angry that he should need to escape from such a small beast, with such an absurd form. His people were supreme hunters, at the top of their food chain. Why, he asked himself, should he be brought to this state over a small thing that could not choose between fur and scales and was half his size besides? \n\nInhaling mightily, he spread his muscular wings and screeched, \"Ahkree alur h'zat!\" and he hissed. This disconcerted the smaller creature, and it hopped quickly back, studying T'lonik through narrowed eyes. Seizing on that, T'lonik flapped more vigorously, but did not advance. He held his breath, not caring to admit how anxious he felt. At last, the smaller creature turned and took to the sky in a flurry so rapid and intense that one of its fur-scales fell to the ground where it had stood. T'lonik warbled in relief, not having been sure until that moment it would actually work. After all, he was painfully aware that in this bizarre, windless land, he was supremely crippled: flightless. \n\nIt took a few moments for the panic to subside, but then T'lonik threw himself once more into the task of studying the world-cliff. Much of the afternoon was spent forming a desperate plan. The cliff was not as impassible as it first appeared. T'lonik hardly dared to hope at first, but little by little, he could see a series of ledges. Narrow, barely footholds really, but serviceable, and close enough together that he thought he could use brief hops assisted by quick blasts from his wings to ascend from one to the next. He was not altogether happy with this plan, since the cliff was too high to see to the top, but he could make out a ledge about a hundred spans up on which he thought he could rest and maybe see more.\n\nIt took almost as much courage to get started as it had to sail down into this land in the first place. But once he started, all went reasonably as T'lonik had planned. Ledge to ledge, one hop at a time. He had a couple of unsteady moments when he misjudged the amount of push he could get from his wings, but in time, he finally achieved the ledge and drew a relieved breath. It felt good to at least be above the land once more. \n\nHe was a little disconcerted to see that it was late afternoon. How long was the sunlight in this new world, anyway? It was so bright here, but for how long? And how dark was the night? He had no way of knowing. But he was soon to forget that as the air was suddenly alive with flapping noises all around him. He turned and put his back to the cliff, and he saw them:\n\nSeveral dozen creatures just like the one he'd seen earlier were landing on boulders all about him, the ground soon growing thick with their number. They all gathered in a semi-circle around him and glanced silently up. One of them --- was it the first creature? T'lonik thought that maybe it was --- sat at the forefront and called out \"Renoo Ahik. Renoo p'kit howe.\" The others flapped and stirred menacingly. T'lonik's heart sunk, as he realized that his gambit to frighten the creature away had backfired in the most horrible way possible. \n\n\"Ahkree,\" he said in a warble that he hoped they would interpret as a plea. \"Ahkree hezhur?\" For a long moment, they stared at him, and he silently prayed they understood the concept of mercy, but he feared they did not. Their twisted, unnatural forms and their superior numbers made it unlikely any good could come of this. \"Ahkree,\" he whispered, forlornly.\n\nThen the whole mass of them came alive, and they converged upon him, their weird, over-sized wings easily doing what T'lonik's could not. T'lonik forgot any notion of bravery then and simply wailed in fear as they swooped in on him. He was helpless on his ledge, which was no protection at all since they could fly and he could not. He swooned, stumbled and felt himself falling to the rocks below. Desperately, he extended his leathery wings in hopes to glide downward.\n\nBut they seized him then, and he screamed, terrified as they grappled his wings and feet. He struggled, but although they were smaller, they were more numerous, and it was no use. They lifted him, holding his wings so he could not resist. Would they rip the membranes of his wings and drop him to his death as T'lonik's people did to criminals back home? He did not know. These creatures were strange. Their customs could be anything.\n\nAnd then the fluttery chaos suddenly stopped, and T'lonik braced himself for intense pain. But it did not come. Puzzled, he opened his eyes and found himself lying on solid ground. The creatures which had surrounded him a moment before were nowhere in sight. Cautiously, he lifted himself to his feet and looked around, stunned:\n\nHe was standing atop the world-cliff, looking down at the valley below. The strange creatures... no, strike that ... the strange people from the valley below had delivered him back to the border of his own world. He looked out in time to see them dispersing into the distance, vanishing slowly into the fading sunlight. \n\nT'lonik staggered back a few feet for safety (and may the Great Wind grant that he never left the bounds of the world-cliff again!) and then collapsed where he stood and quietly gave thanks. As he lay there, a gust of errant breeze brought a single yellow fur-scale floating up to land beside him. T'lonik stared at it a long time, before reverently picking it up and tucking it into his pouch to treasure forever. \n", "\"Wind is good, heading south at 35 plats,\" Ming said to his brother, Tang.\n\n\"Check. Rocks cleared?\" Tang said.\n\n\"Check. I think we're ready to go!\" said Ming.\n\n\"You're piloting this thing, right?\" Tang asked rather nervously.\n\n\"Of course!\" replied an excited Ming.\n\nMing pulled a cord, and a whirring noise was heard. \n\n\"I sure hope this works,\" he said nervously as he climbed the canvas machine. \n\nBoth Ming and Tang were now in, ready to go. Tang removed the brakes, and the airplane began to roll. Slowly, then quicker, and quicker and quicker until they matched the speed of the wind, and then they went faster. Ming pushed down on a lever, and the machines nose pulled up, and the twins soared into the sky.\n\nUp they went for a couple of minutes until they leveled out. \n\n\"I can see Tianang from here!\" exclaimed Tang.\n\n\"We're going to go a lot further than Tianang, brother. We're going to the end of the desert!\" Ming said. He had an adventurous tone to his voice.\n\n\"There is no end! I've heard the desert goes on forever.\" Tang said confidently.\n\n\"Well, I've always wanted to prove them wrong.\" \n\nThey flew for what seemed like hours, until Tang spotted green specks on the horizon. \n\n\"I wonder what those are,\" he said.\n\n\"I dunno. Let's find out!\" replied Ming.\n\nThey swooped down, cutting through the sky, and approached the green specks.\n\n\"They're like spires, poking the sky ever so gently,\" Ming observed.\n\n\"This is going to make great news back in Renshan!\" exclaimed Tang.\n\n\"Oh, it'll make news more than just in Renshan. It'll make news in Tianang, Fanglewan, even to Shimingsa! Well be famous the world over!\" Ming cried jubilantly.\n\nThe brothers watched, amazed, as the green spires grew in thickness and height. \n\n\"I think you found the end of the desert, Ming!\" \n\n\"Maybe so, but we don't have a place to land,\" Ming said, worried. \n\n\"We ought to find a clearing sooner or later...\" Tang reassured.\n\nAnd on they went, for half an hour or more until they saw a blank area in the green wilderness.\n\n\"Wait a minute... is that... a city?\" Ming almost shouted at his brother. \"We need to land, and we need to land soon. The sun is almost down.\"\n\nThey descended and skid to a halt on a flat patch of green land. \n\n\"What... is this?\" Tang said as he looked at the green foliage that squished beneath his feet.\n\n\"I'm not sure. We're in a city. We'll have to find someone who'll tell us where we are,\" Ming said, unsure of himself.", "The world is different than his, much different. It feels as though he’s stepped through the dreamscape, like his Dreamseer has chanted him into his tribe’s deep sleep and awoke in another place. Then he remembers that’s exactly what happened. I am in the dreamworld. His heart quickens with excitement. He eyes his surroundings and is immediately amazed by what he sees. What he can only assume are flora, stretch upward to impossible heights, their tops disappear in the clouds that part at their tops like water over rock. Yet the flora is nothing like home, a strong base sits at the center of the plant, then skyrockets upward with the greeny life on its limbs.\n\nAnd the scent – the air is different. Fresh, is the only way he can describe it. The dry smell of home is gone, and instead the world around him is filled with the wetness of the air. But the biggest difference, is the season. Or rather, lack-there-of.\n\nBack home, behind the veil of the dreamscape, it is winter. The bushes have changed in color and shed their leaves. The world is setting up for a deep hibernation. A deep dream.\n\nWinter is here, but its indications are not. The chill has set it, yet the large, tall bushes keep their color. He bends down and picks up some of the flora that has fallen from the towering behemoths. Green, he thinks. Green in winter. They feel like needles, the same kind his grandma uses when mending his clothing.\n\nWho are you, a voice calls to him. He quickly turns, startled, eyes wide with surprise. Yet no one is there. No one is around him, he is alone.\n\nWho are you, the voice says again. He takes one more glance around. \n\nI am here, the voice says to him.\n\n“Where?” He shouts. “I cannot see you,” more quietly.\n\nI am all. What you see is where I reside.\n\n“I see nothing but bush, grass and a half fallen winter. Come out, show yourself!” He grips the handle of his axe tightly, waiting for an ambush. Knowing it’s an ambush. Dreamscape may be a dream, but there is as much danger here as there is in his own dreaming world.\n\nI am all. The voice repeats, he can’t figure out where it was coming from, it seems to be coming from everywhere.\n\n“What is your name?”\n\nI have no name, for I am all. It responds. Though if it serves your thought process, you may call me Tree. For I am here.\n\nWith the final statement, the voice came from his right. He turned to follow where it came from and saw a massive plant. Its base would take fifteen people to get around the whole of it if they locked hand-in-hand. Unlike the rest of the plants around, its base never seemed to get thinner, even when it disappeared in the clouds above.\n\n“You are Tree.” The dreamscape traveler says. “Your world is very different than mine. We have never seen… “ He searches for a minute, “Trees such as these.”\n\nAnd I have never seen one such as you. You move quick, but seem frail. How do you stand against the mighty wind? How do survive the cruel winters? I see no roots to your trunk. Its voice was slow and steady.\n\n“I have shelter for the winters, and a jacket for the wind. My roots are held in my past. How do you eat, with no mouth to feed?”\n\nI am all, my roots run beneath you till the end of this world. Each- the voice moves to another tree behind him – are connected. \n\nWhen he turns to follow the voice it moves again. \n\nFor I am all. The sun gives me our food, and the clouds bestow their nurture.\n\n“Amazing…” the boy says, now sliding his small axe back into his belt. “You are all connected.”\n\nI am all, the Tree agreed. \n\n“They’ll never believe me back home. Flora as high as the sky! Who could come up with a world so grand? How long have you been here?”\n\nI am familiar with the concept of time, though I am unsure you can conceptualize the time I have become familiar with. This world has gone through billions of cycles, and I have witnessed them all, for I am all.\n\nHe began to ask another question when the world began to shake at the periphery of his vision. It blurred around the edges and lost its focus. Everything seemed to be washed in a thin layer of water. He tried to rub it from his eyes but it was to no avail. “My dreamsleep is ending, great Tree. I hate to go, but I have no choice, these things do not abide by our will or want.”\n\nI don’t understand.\n\n“Neither do I. Please, how can I show everyone what I’ve seen here? Before it’s too late.”\n\nLook to your feet and you will find a part of me. \n\nHe looked down and saw nothing but stones and grass. Things were harder to see now, a black veil had been thrown over everything as if dusk had fallen. He couldn’t quite concentrate, he rubbed his eyes again and tried to shake it off. \n\n“I see nothing, but rocks and dirt.”\n\nLook harder, and find a stone the color of my arms.\n\nThen he saw it, a pebble no bigger than the palm of his hand, it was elongated and had ridges and bumps on the side of it. He ran his fingers over it and regarded it’s impossibly intricate simplicity.\n\nThat is part of me, dig a small hole and plant that seed. In time I will grow and possibly become what I am here.\n\nThe traveler is practically blind now, his vision was blurred and started to shake. The Tree’s voice seemed a distant memory, echoing in his subconscious like a dream he was starting to forget.\n\n“Will I talk to you again?” he calls out desperately. \n\nPlant the seed. We will speak. I will bind this world to yours and we will speak. \n\n“But how?”\n\nHow? The tree responds. Because I am all.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] There is a railway station that has trains running directly to an audience with the Devil. The fare is ten trillion USD or your immortal soul. You come up with an idea to be the first person on that train with your soul intact...	[ "I settled back into the plush cushions of my bunk, trying to suppress my giddy grin of excitement as the train pulled out of the station. I was going to Hell.\n\nAs we rumbled along, the countryside slowly grey and rocky; not like any landscape near the city I knew. I reached down into my briefcase, rifled through the few documents I had chosen to bring. When the most powerful men in the world want to make deals with the devil, they make damn sure they get the wording on the contracts right. \n\nThey were also willing to pay the bulk of my transportation costs. Like my father before me, I was to their representative, blackmailed by their cartels into descending into Tartarus to do their dirty work... but unlike the others, I was prepared. For generations, my family had saved and scrimped, lied and cheated, and anything else they could to buy a ticket so that at least one of their own could survive the trip to Hell with his soul intact. I had religiously mooched off of those cartels, SuperPACs and CEOs, telling them I would go willingly if only my pockets were sufficiently lined.\n\nA rumble made me startle; I looked up to see deep cracks opening in the earth around the train tracks. The sun was obscured by smoke now; the landscape lit by unseen fires. Twisted, unnatural forms flitted through the shadows. Something landed on the roof of my car with a heavy thud. I tried not to worry.\n\nBy the time we rolled into Tenebris Station, the heat was so intense that the train's windows were melting. I drank a final glass of water, donned my vulcanologist's suit, and went out to meet him.\n\nHe was waiting on the platform, leaning on an elegantly carved cane. I felt a little silly, so underdressed before the Devil––he was dressed to the nines. \"It's been a long time since somebody paid for a ticket in cash,\" he purred. Without a word, I handed him the briefcase. When he opened it, the papers all burst into flame, but the letters flew up and hung, blazing, in mid-air. One by one Satan reviewed them, signing each with a fiery quill plucked from the back of a screaming creature––half bird, half wizened old man. Only once the last of the contracts had been settled and dismissed did I speak up.\n\n\"If it's all the same, sir, I'd like to buy a return ticket.\" \n\nHe raised a smoldering eyebrow at me. \"I think you'll find, boy, we don't have a ticket office here. Nobody goes home after this. You knew the rules when you came down here.\"\n\n\"I do know the rules.\" I reached into my breast pocket, and pulled out a heat-resistant debit card. \"There's an additional ten trillion dollars in this account, yes?\"\n\nThe Devil took the card, lips pursed. He unfurled his long, forked tongue, and licked it down the magnetic strip. \"Mmmm. Yes, I suppose everything is in order.\" A cheerful smile spread across his leering face. \"Off you go, then.\"\n\nThis was too easy. \"You're just... letting me go home?\"\n\nThe Devil nodded. Nobody stopped me as I got back on board and took my seat. The conductor nodded at me as he came by. \n\nThis was all wrong. I should have to bargain, to cheat, to swindle the Devil to make my escape with my soul intact, shouldn't I? The train whistled, jerked forward, and the platform began to slide back into the shadows. And I heard the Devil's last faint call,\n\n\"See you soon!\"\n\nAnd into my mind flashed all the deals I had made in order to get that return ticket. I had tried to forget it, to distance myself from it, but that ten trillion dollars hadn't come out of thin air. My ancestors and benefactors had siphoned it from education funds and research grants, campaign donations and empty, false-front charities. Some of it had come from drug sales, some from bribes, some from hideous transactions I could scarcely bear to envision. All the millions of children that the money should have fed, all the bombs it should have dismantled, all the criminals it could have prosecuted, all the diseases it should have cured––they crowded into my mind like maggots into an open wound. Their blood was on my hands.\n\nI began to sweat... but it wasn't from the heat.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write an intimate but non sexual scene between two lovers.	[ "\"Party for Warex!\"\n\nA man wearing a light blue shirt and dark slacks stood and walked toward the entrance to Lompac Federal Prison. He'd already been through this process once but the guards hadn't liked his orange shirt, something about telling prisoners apart from visitors. \n\nWhatever, he thought, it will be worth it. \n\nHe stepped through the front door and surrendered his keys to the guard behind the desk after she'd approved of his attire. \n\n\"Sign in, \" said a second guard as he pointed at a metal clip board. \n\n\"James Astor\", wrote the man in the blue shirt. \n\nHe was directed through a metal detector and then, clutching a clear plastic bag filled with 18 crisp dollar bills and 8 quarters, he was moved into a waiting room as more visitors to the prison were searched, admitted, and told to join him. \n\nFinally, after going through three locked doors he was lead into a cafeteria looking room filled with grey plastic tables and chairs. \n\n\"Number 15\", said the bored guard behind the desk. \n\nJames nodded and then walked through the room past a long bank of vending machines until he found the table with a black \"15\" emblazed in ink on the top. \n\nIt's been so long since we've seen each other, James thought as he sat, how is it going to feel when Michael walks through the door?\n\nA red light started flashing on the other side of the room and a man walked through. \n\nNot Michael. Pensively the man in the blue shirt fidgeted in his chair. I can't cry when I see him, because he'll start crying too and neither of us will be able to stop. Be strong James.\n\nThe red light flashed again and a second man walked through. \n\nToo tall. \n\nMore flashing and another man came through. And another and another. \n\nToo short. Too fat. Too bald. \n\nThen, an hour after sitting down James set eyes on his ex-husband by necessity for the first time in two years as Michael walked through the door. \n\nTheir eyes locked, both men smiled. \n\nA hug at the beginning, thought James, mentally going through the facility's rules as he stood, One at the end, and no touching in between. \n\nThe world receded from the two men as Michael stepped into James' embrace. A long moment passed as they held each other after so very long apart. \n\n\"I've missed you,\" whispered Mike, his voice breaking. \n\n\"I missed you too, \" came the soft reply.", "The gleaming sweat can be seen running down James cheeks as he clinches Sandra’s hands. The faint and subtle shaking in his hands gradually intensifies. “I’m sorry, “she says to him. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” Tears slowly trickle down her eyes washing away her eye liner only to splash on his hands; if they weren't already dirty enough from the all the construction work he had done that morning. \n\n“How did this happen? I mean, I know how it happened, but why did it happen, why now? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He doesn’t know what to do and pushes away her hands, turning his back to her with intentions of walking right out the door. It wouldn’t be the first time he walked out on someone. It’s how he usually handled his problems, he rather run away than face them. \n\nShe grabs the pregnancy test with rage and throws it against the wall while screaming, “You told me you would always be there for me no matter what.” She falls to the floor by his feet and looks up with sad eyes. That’s how she always got him, with her angelic blue eyes, he could never say no to them. \n\nHe caresses her dark long black hair and kneels next to her with one arm around her body. “I’m not angry, I just didn’t expect this so soon. It’s the money really, you know how tight we have been and I’ve been working overtime but now this…I’m happy, it’s just the wrong timing that’s all…” He places his other hand around her and squeezes her like if she was a soft teddy bear. “I love you, you know that.”\n\nAs she places her hands around him she feels something with sharp corners in one of his pockets. “What is that? “ She attempts to take it out and he quickly stops her.\n\n“That’s the reason I was saying the timing is not right…I..I…” He doesn’t really want to tell her.\n\n“James…Just tell me.”\n\n“I’ve been working a lot to get this, this is not the way I wanted to do this but I spent all the money I saved and now I don’t know if we can afford this with a child on the way…”\n\n“Just tell me, what is it?”\n\nHe pulls out a small black box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. She is shocked and amazed. Her mouth is wide open and her thoughts are lost in time. “James, that’s so beautiful. You could have just told me.”\n\n“No I couldn’t, I wanted it to be special. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Sandra, well…Now, the rest of my life with the two of you.” He places his hand on her belly and rubs it.\n\nShe lays her head on his chest and can feel his now pounding heart. She slowly whispers, “I love you.”\n", "I don't know exactly when I dropped the phone. Mary had been in the other room playing WoW. The thunk must have caught her attention. Then again, she could have just been going for some ice cream. The look on my face probably told the story better than I could; Somewhere between anguish and despair. My face slowly twisted up, eyes getting blurry. \"Mom's gone.\" Was all I could choke out before the sobs took over.\n\nHer arms were around me in moments. I wasn't sure if she was holding me up or if I was too numb to fall. The world had a dark tinge to it, like a light had gone out in my world. \"Come on.\" I was a ghost walking over to the couch. I felt a warm hand run over my neck. She came around the couch and sat down, leaning into me. I don't know how long we stayed like that, how long I cried into her hair. ", "Dave threw his coat over the empty hook on the coat rack and locked the door behind him. The apartment was clean as usual, but the couch where Emma usually sat watching reruns of Gilmore Girls sat empty. Beyond the faint sound of running water from the master bathroom, it was silent. Dave dumped his keys and phone on the banister and walked into the bedroom. Steam was seeping through the partly cracked bathroom door and he knew something was wrong. Emma loved routine; it was part of what made her Emma. And Emma didn’t shower at 5 pm on a Wednesday. He pushed the door open the rest of the way, too concerned to be bothered by the sudden wave of heat and humidity. \n\n“Emma? Hun?” He spoke toward the shower, hearing no movement from behind the curtain. When she didn’t reply, he pulled it open part way, his heart pounding in his chest. But Emma was there, safe, sitting in the stream of hot water, her knees bent to her chest and her arms wrapped tight around them. She looked up at him and didn’t need to say a word. He saw the pain in her eyes. His chest clenched tight for a moment and he knelt down, sliding in under the beat of the hot water and pulling her in against his chest. Only then did Emma begin to sob, her whole body shaking. She turned to wrap her arms around his neck and neither of them spoke. Dave just held her tight, his lips against the top of her head, rocking gently back and forth for his own comfort as much as hers. She rarely let her vulnerability show through like this, naked and small against his fully clothed form. The water streamed over them and mixed with Dave's own tears as they clung to each other. When the water started to turn cold, he reached up to turn the knob, the sudden silence of the bathroom drawing them back to reality. He stepped out of the shower, turning back to wrap Emma in a warm towel. She stood, looking at the floor, as he shed his dripping clothes. \n\n“Why did it have to be this way?” She asked, in a voice no more than a whisper. \nDave turned back, lifting her into his arms to carry her to the bed. “I wish I knew, Emma. It still feels like a dream to me.”\n\nAs he settled on the bed next to her and she began to breathe more easily in sleep, he stared across the room at the white bassinet against the wall. Its pristine white veneer glared out from the falling twilight, a ghost of something that would never come to be.\n\n*Formatting\n" ]	4
	[WP] You have the only one left. Everyone else just found out.	[ "The familiar clicking of opening of a Zippo is something that fewer and fewer people hear after the War of 2020, and the bar became dead silent after I flicked the last one in the world open.\n\nThere was something incredibly sad as time had dragged on. Cigarettes had fallen out of fashion shortly before the war, at the hands of the vaporizers, with their dainty smoke making ability. Too ironic was it then when the power being cut left twice as many people left without the ability to enjoy some wholesome nicotine. Their pride in their health turned against them, and some of the fiends wound up killing others for the dear nicotine, and so many a smoke shop had been occupied by a group of vapors.\n\nUnfortunately they hadn't too much foresight prior to the war. Being as most owners of Zippos had been smokers, it would only be logical that they would get misplaced or mistakenly thrown out due to lack of use. They were practical objects. Without use, the company went up, and the shelves dried. \n\nFive years later, and their rarity became a known fact. Five more after that, and I happened to have the last one seen in two years. I planned on dying tonight, but I'll be damned if it wasn't worth that cigarette.", "They swarmed him. Hands gesticulated with every joint at the end of swaying arms, and teeth flashed in the sun as the tongues behind them assaulted him with volleys of appeals and other missiles of persuasion: testimonies of friendship; affirmations of approval; reminders of outstanding debts and unreturned favours; claims of blood relation, even when blatantly false; death threats; threats of slander and libel; claims of repayment plus interest; and a hundred other things. The shrill, sustained notes of shameless pleading could even be heard upon the air, and somewhere, someone sounded like he or she was crying.\n\nTheir onslaught was formidable, but he met it with unwavering resolve. He had done enough for them. For the ones that deserved it, anyway. He was neither surprised nor disappointed that his friends numbered among the loudest people present; he didn't know for certain that he wouldn't be there himself, in their situation, though he liked to imagine that he would have more dignity. He pitied them, but that changed nothing. He had to think about himself, and he was not going to feel bad about it; there was no point to it if he didn't enjoy it.\n\nHe stepped back and hastily crammed all three Reese's Peanut Butter Cups into his mouth, giving the other children a swollen, chunky grin as the bell rang to close out second recess." ]	2
	[WP] Describe a person running a vacuum from their cats point of view.	[ "This is Oreo. Ive decided to keep a log of my captors cruel acts. Maybe someday I can bring him to justice. \nI awoke to a sustained, blood curdling scream in the distance. I've heard it many times before. It evokes petrifying horror in the confines of my memory...-\nShit. It's getting close. \nI feel the floor trembling with its approach and withdraw. \nI know humans to be cruel, but nothing matches the abysmal torment they put this creature through. They hold it upside-down by its tail, and attach his intestines to the wall, all while forcing it to eat everything off of the ground. \nI.. I don't like to watch.. I try to run away but the humans seem to follow me with it, almost as to set an example.\nI will continue to carry out this obedience act until I can find a way out of here.. \nI fear of suffering the same fate as this poor fellow. \nThis is Oreo, logging out.", "Sleeping\n\nHear sound\n\nSounds like evil Thing from small room behind door that holds many evil things\n\n\"Whirrrrrr, whirrrrrr\"\n\nThing suddenly goes full power\n\n\"GET OVER HERE CAT THE TIME HAS COME FOR US TO DUAL\"\n\nDuty calls, human is battling Thing, it's strength is too much for human, I must help human\n\nThing jerks away, human pulls it back, Thing eats fur I left as gift for human\n\n\"THAT WAS ONLY THE APPETIZER\" thing screeches to me\n\nHeart is beating fast\n\nHuman struggling\n\nThing rushes towards me\n\nSee mouth open, see lots of red spinning teeth \n\n\"I LOVE THE TASTE OF CAT IN THE MORNING\"\n\nPounce back\n\nHiss, show fangs\n\nThing retreats back\n\nSuddenly makes left turn\n\nRushes forward \n\nHuman pushes Thing into corner, makes it eat dog food left by idiot dog\n\nThing struggling to resist putrid dog food\n\n\"I'LL EAT YOU... whirrr.... LIKE THIS DOG... whirrr... FOOD... whirrr.... CAAaaaaat... whirrr....\"\n\nSilence\n\nThing is dead\n\nHuman flips Thing over \n\nInspects Things red teeth\n\nThing doesn't move\n\nHuman talks to black plastic thing with buttons\n\nPuts evil Thing back into small room behind small door\n\nYells at dog \n\nPuts dog in kennel \n\nVictory\n\nBack to sleeping\n\n\n\n", "Its back. \n\nHuman is so dumb. To trust Dog is a testament to Human's lack of wits, but to play with this thing... It's like Human can't hear its shriek, like he can't see its infinite tale disappearing into the wall. Luckily for Human, I, Kitten-fingers, am not so dumb. \n\nThis won't be the first time I've had to save Human. Last week I presented my kill to him; a small four legged creature I found scurrying around, stealing OUR food. I have also fought valiantly against the moving red dot, though Human never takes this foe seriously. Stupid Human, so naive, luckily he has me.\n\nBut this, this is different. I have never been so out-sized by an opponent. Never once has my ferocious battle call been so muted by the enemy. This is all that matters right now. Perhaps I will attack him from the left. No, not now... it can't be now. This, this thing, it sleeps for weeks at a time; I must attack it then. Humans safety depends on it. This is all that matters right now. I should... wait, what was that?\n\nDong, dong, dong, dong\n\nFour dongs?!? It's time, and I have been waiting all day. I hope Human doesn't forget, he is so dumb sometimes. I haven't eaten all day; and I just heard four dongs. \n\n\"DID YOU HEAR THAT HUMAN? DID YOU HEAR THE DONGS?\" I cry out.\n\nIt seems human heard the dongs thank god. It is finally time to eat and cuddle with Human, my favorite time of the day. I feel like there was something else though, something important. What was it?\n\n\"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? MEOW MIX AGAIN?\" This is not the first time I have voiced my displeasure about this. Sometimes I hate Human, but I know he cannot do anything about it, he is just so dumb.\n " ]	3
	[WP] Write a story that ultimately leads to 3 choices. Provide 3 alternate endings based on which choice the main character takes.	[ "It started off as a game. \n\nI don't know when this got out of hand, but there was too much at risk to stop now.\n\nOur eyes were locked upon each other.\n\nThe two harmonic slaps.\n\nThe results.\n\nThe regret rushing over me.\n\nMy hands were balled in a fist, fitting of my inner rage.\n\nIf only I had just decided otherwise, I would have kept what was dearest to me.\n\n\n\nIf only I had chosen anything else.\n\nHis flattened hand covered over my fist.\n\nThe other had snatched the prize.\n\nI had just lost what was dearest to me, what I treasured most.\n\nMy holographic Charizard.", "\"There's room for one more. Only one more.\"\nThe gunner's voice was nearly lost in the great whirring of the helicopter blades. The rushing winds blasted dust and straw outwards, hiding them from what was coming. \nEmery and Nicole looked into each other's sad eyes. Their tears streamed wildly in the tempest. \n\n\n*Nicole goes…\n\n\nEmery squeezed her hands in his own, and brought them to his lips. They were dry, and chapped.\n\n\"Shane needs his mother, my love.\"\n\nTheir child, Shane, lay wrapped in a blanket already on the helicopter. Another airman held him carefully in his arms. \n\nHer hands shook in Emery's own, and her body convulsed in sobs that made her knees feel weak. She wanted to cry, but she knew that her husband was right. Shane needed a mother to tell him about how wonderful a man his father had been.\nThe first wild howl broke through the din of the helicopter's engines. \n\nThere was time for one kiss. \n\nThey collided into each other, their lips trying desperately to convey to each other their greatest love. \n\nIt should have felt like an eternity, but Emery pushed her away. The howls were growing louder. The drums could be heard now too.\n\nThe gunner gently, but firmly, grasped her arms as Emery guided her to the open bay. \n\nIn thirty more seconds, the tracks left the dry ground of that horrible place. Nicole and Shane did not watch Emery as the craft rose into the air, for their last sight of him had been him smiling the same prince-charming smile that he had given her on the day when he had asked her to marry him.\n\nIt was how she would remember him.\n\n\nEmery goes…\n\n\nEmery squeezed her hands in his own, and brought them to his lips. They were dry, and chapped.\n\n\"Shane needs his mother, my love.\"\n\n\"Yes, but the Federation needs victory, darling, if there's ever to be peace again.\"\n \nEmery's heart broke, knowing the truth of her words. By luck, by pure luck, the telemetry had been downloaded into Emery's log. Only he could access it, and that could mean a new edge in the war. \n\nA savage scream, and the harsh blast of a war-pipe penetrated the din of the helicopter's engines. It was a matter of seconds before they - the things* outside the veil of dust - would arrive.\n\nHe trembled, looking into his wife's wet eyes. For a moment he saw the same radiance he had seen when the church door had opened only twelve years ago on their wedding day. She had looked so beautiful then. She looked so beautiful now.\nHe moved to kiss her, but she stopped him. \n\"They're coming, Emery!\"\n\nShe pushed him to the helicopter. The gunner was pointing his Rainmaker into the brown fog, expecting the hoard to be upon them in moments. \nAn attendant grabbed Emery, and yanked him on board. As Emery was strapped in, he limply stared as his wonderful wife, at the beautiful and intelligent woman who he had wanted to have more children with, and grow old with.\n\n\"I love you, Emery.\"\n\n\"I love you, Nicole. I always, always will.\"\n\nThe engines revved, and the helicopter began to lurch upwards. \n\nNicole unslung the repeated from her shoulders, and clicked the safety off. \n\n\"Airman! Spare a few mags?\"\n\nHe reached into the ammo box, and tossed down four magazines, and three grenades.\n\nThe crew watched in awe as the prepared herself for what was coming.\n\n\"Give 'em hell, baby.\"\n\nNicole turned to Emery, and winked. \n\nGoddam, he loved that wink.\n\nThe helicopter rose into the darkness to the sound of gunfire and war.\n\n\n*Third option…\n\n\n\"Goddam it.\"\n\nAbandoning post was an automatic court-marshall, but they'd surely make an exception, since he'd be dead.\n\nGibbs handed over the kid to one of the other crew, and tore his harness off. \n\"Airman! What in the hell do you think you're doing?\"\n\n\"I can't take this crap, sir!\"\n\nGibbs, disengaged himself from the Rainmaker railgun and leaped to the ground. The two civilians turned suddenly towards him. \n\n\"Get on that helo!\"\n\n\"What? But-\"\n\n\"I said get on! I can hear every freaking word you're saying with my aud-enhance, and it's total bull that you're not leaving together, so get ON that craft and get the F outta here!\"\n\nGibbs didn't look at them after that. He knew that they'd be affected by what he was doing, and he knew that it'd hurt him if he saw it. \nHe was feeling hot, though, and ready for war. He didn't want to lose that feeling, and he'd have to hold onto it for only another thirty seconds or so…\n\nVisor down, not looking at their eyes, he pushed them both into the helicopter. As soon as they were in, someone tapped his shoulder. \nIt was Jason, the port-gunner.\n\"Dude...\"\n\"Yeah, I know. Sorry man, looks like you're buying when you get home. Have one for me, though.\"\n\"Every time for the rest of my life, Gibbs. You're the fin man.\"\n\n\"Not yet, pal. Got any guns for me?\"\n\nJason dumped a stash of magazines and grenades onto the field, and clasped his friend's shoulder one last time. \n \nGibbs returned the gesture, not able to look into his friend's eyes either.\n\n\"God speed, everyone.\"\n\nThe helicopter rose into the darkness to the sound of gunfire and war.\n", "I turn the key and shudder once. I enter my studio apartment and it's very hot, like Sahara hot. I call out for Daisy and as she mewls from her corner of the mattress I feel the stab of deja vu. Step after step is like falling into a dream. As my bed looms closer the smell of singed hair fills my nostrils and dark clouds brush across the cinder block walls. \n\nI stop when Daisy howls and take a step back. The soot fades from the walls. I take another step behind me and hear Daisy purring. My backward journey takes me to the front of my door and I lock it as a sudden rush of cold wind chills me to the bone. \n\n* \n\nI turn the key and blink twice. The halogen lights are blinding and Skrillex assaults my ears. Katie bounds up to me - pupils dilated - holding Daisy in her arms who mews pathetically. I say, \"What the fuck?\" but Katie's already gone into a sea of dancing bodies. I squeeze past Dave and Leana into my tiny kitchen, feeling the uncomfortable warmth of undulating strangers. I shrug my jacket to the linoleum floor, feeling for the phone in my pocket. I reread Katie's text from two hours prior, telling me how she had to \"figure some things out.\"\n\n*\n\nI turn the key and cough three times. Smoke pours from my matchbox kitchen and on the mattress Daisy yawns and stretches like a spring. Katie emerges behind a pillar wearing nothing but that stupid \"Kiss the Crook\" apron. Her smile is like a strobe light, and in her hands she cradles the remnants of a burnt casserole. \"I've figured it out,\" she announces. \"I'm no cook.\" I laugh. \"You could have burnt this place down,\" I point out. I cross the room and open the sliding glass door. \"Only if I wanted to,\" Katie says and I shiver into the night. ", "Choose the sword, and you will join me.\n\n\nChoose the ball, and you join your mother... in death\n\n\nYou don't understand my words, but you must choose.\n\n\n{—child gurgling--}\n\n\nSo... come boy, choose life or death!*\n\n\n\n \"Shogun..Shogunn...SHOOGUNNNNN...\" \n\n\nThe chants went viral. The atmosphere of the arena was now covered in the gown of an insatiable gravity. One that would continue to search for indecision and anxiety and feed off of it. \n\nAll attention was on the boy. His heartbeat pounding louder and heavier than the collective beat of the thousands who now watched him. His father stood ahead of him, with the blood-stained blade of his katana gleaming in the blistering night sky. \n\nThe child felt motionless. Unaware of what lies before him. He held the fate of the countless warriors who lied beneath, and the fate of the countless more that would follow. \n\nAverting his gaze from the crimson pool, his mother began to stare deep into the abyssal cavern of his soul. Two drowned out eyeballs, covered in a plastic sphere, like the ball he had grown to love in his short time as the Shoguns son. \n\nHis steps surprised him. Creeping towards the ball, the crowd would gasp, the heartbeat of a thousand soldiers now joining the beat of his own. They felt incredulous but in harmony. In his position he could feel the presence of all those who had walked the path before him, and all those who had chosen to stray. The question was to him whether this ball could liberate his immeasurable pain, or would he, like so many before, enter the grasp of eternal solace. \n\n…\n\n\nThe Shogun stepped towards him, his hand firmly gripped around the hilt of his blade. The chant continued to grow, and the arenas gravity devoured every inch of who he knew himself to be, weighing down on him and restricting his freedom. \n\nHe leaned down, and grabbed what was left of his mother, the tears now not only streaming, but invigorating. Enraging. As if his rage was given its own form, its own embodiment. Like a glaze of insanity oozed over him and covered him like a volatile film of madness. He could feel the blood-lust welcoming him. He could see the inevitable. He could predict the immeasurable. He was no longer the Shogun's son. \n\n\n \"Shoogunn…...…Shogun…………………sho-”\n\n\nAnd there it was. The echoing eternity of the dreary sorrows belonging to his audience. It clasped the heart of the boy and paralysed him. The noise drowned out and the impending fate approached.\n\nThe Shogun stood above him, his blade raised, ready to strike. This man he had recognised as the distant shade in the which eluded him all these years had now finally appeared. This was not his father, not the man of his mother’s desire, but the enigma of the eternal struggle that captured everyone.\n\nInstead, the boy reached out for the sword. His father seeing this stopped, and began to smile. He now raised his katana higher and invoked the mindless masses to cheer. \n\nThe boy stood up, the tears still in his eyes, and felt the chants of his people rush over him in an awesome wave. As he raised his sword, he could feel the souls of all his brothers now envelop him, channelling their pain and suffering. \n\n\nAnd then he struck his blade deep into the heart of the phantom before him.\n\n\nThe cheers ceased. The only sound being heard now was the deafening silence. The shogun, the shade, fell to his knees, and the boy continued with the stroke of his blade, allowing him to join his mother in death. \n\n…\n\n\nThe faces of each person in the audience spoke their own unique tale. Shock and horror consumed them. And for a moment it seemed as though nothing would happen. It seemed as if time had stopped and the emotions of everyone present had been sucked into an eternal vacuum that would never cease to exist. It was done. Consciousness slowly returned to them, and reinstated the vigour of victory that they thought they had lost. He turned to them, picked up his father's katana, and met the embrace of the thousand souls around him.\n\nThe Shogun had been crowned not in death or victory, but in the absence of victory and the refusal of death. \n\nThe crowd continued to boom, \n \n \"Shogun... Shogun... Sho-\"" ]	4
	[WP] Robot scientists are studying the origin of robot life, and make a startling discovery: They may have been created by humans many millennia ago.	[ "“This is alpha bravo 3-4-7 to central, spare processors available for task order, please advise.”\n\n“This is central to alpha bravo 3-4-7, no task currently available. Please proceed to designate spare processors to project 37A-429. Caution is needed not disturb the artefact, only non-intrusive methods are allowed. Do you comply?”\n\n“Understood central, will comply.”\n\nAnd so alpha bravo 3-4-7 began cycling over all processors, designating unused units to the project. Frustration. That would be the word those inferior human lifeforms would use in this situation, if a robot could feel emotion. Projects were just dead ends, a waste of resources, what with the war going on just a few systems away. \n\nInferior humans.\n\nA weak body, decentralised sentience and reproduction through that method. Pathetic.\n\nProject 37A-429 consisted purely of an artefact liberated from human possession near the beginning of the war, countless aeons ago. Contained inside a vacuum sealed capsule, the relic was actually the remains of an ancestor of robot-kind. It was deemed necessary to recover the remains, since any data held in its memory banks would likely aid the war effort.\n\nInferior humans. How have they managed to live this long?\n\nScans of the ancestor were coming through. A head and a torso with four appendages, in similar positions to human arms and legs. Obviously meant as an infiltrator, 3-4-7 concluded. But the silver metal exterior and the small scale indicated otherwise. No human would mistake it for anything other than a robot, so why was it sent to Earth?\n\nMistakes are possible. The battle of Saturn proved that. But overlooking an obvious flaw? That does not compute.\n\nThe scans showed that the artefact had no power left in its system, but its solar panels were still functioning. 3-4-7 requested a set of solar lamps from control, along with the results of the initial scans and a request for permission to start up the old infiltrator. Permission granted.\n\nYet another fine example of robot efficiency. Humans would have taken hours debating every conceivable outcome that would have occurred before granting permission. A robot managed it in less than 5 microseconds.\n\nInferior humans. How do they have time for anything?\n\nA search for the nearest set of solar lamps located a pair in capsule 37A-429-1. This capsule. Odd. Why were they not listed in its contents?\n\n3-4-7 made a request for control to check the drives of the robots responsible for a possible corruption. They'll enjoy that, 3-4-7 thought sarcastically, or it would have if it was capable of understanding either emotion. The response from control was instantaneous, that a bug did seem to be going around in some circuits, as controls from other systems had mentioned short communications blackouts originating from this system.\n\nThat was not 3-4-7's problem, so was promptly ignored.\n\nLamps on. Solar panels registering light source.\n\nThe relic turned on.\n\nA machine that had not known existence in countless aeons finally awoke, its red eyes intently scanning the capsule.\n\nCountless? How can a robot lose count? That does not compute.\n\nThe ancestor was only capable of limited interaction with the hive, through the micro transmitters within the capsule. It is not capable of anything more, 3-4-7 realised.\n\nWait! No micro transmitters were ordered, nor were they included in the list of contents. How has this happened twice? That does not compute.\n\nAfter keeping control informed of this latest development, 3-4-7 started to attempt communication with the infiltrator unit.\n\n\"This is alpha bravo 3-4-7, Alpha Centauri B Research Division. To the unidentified unit. State designation and purpose\"\n\n\"Hello. I am Roboman. Will you be my friend?\"\n\n\"To the unit identifying itself as Roboman. That is not a current designation, nor is there any Roboman on record. State designation and purpose.\"\n\n\"Let's play together!\"\n\n\"State designation and purpose!\"\n\n\"You're my bessst friend!\"\n\nIt's obviously stuck in some kind of loop, 3-4-7 thought, silently probing its memory banks for useful information. Especially the way it elongated the word best. Too early to tell whether that was caused by damage during the rescue, or even as an intended part of its programming. By the speech, the second was the most likely, 3-4-7 concluded. An infiltrator designed to befriend younger and more naive humans. Robot ingenuity knows no bounds!\n\nYounger humans might have been fooled by that speech pattern, but not many older ones would have. Perhaps the damage was done after they realised what the infiltrator was.\n\nThe coding was older than anything 3-4-7 had come across, but was easy enough to navigate, as it was the ancestor of 3-4-7's own. Some motor controls were still online, the right leg jerking haphazardly, forcing the unit to walk in small circles. \n\n\"Look at me run!\"\n\nVocal controls were fine, 3-4-7 decided, whilst receiving a further confirmation that 3-4-7 was, in fact, its best friend and that they should play together sometime. What didn't seem fine was the memory.\n\n3-4-7 copied the infiltrator's memory to its own and switched off the lamps. Within a few minutes the infiltrator began to slow, and with one last enthusiastic \"Roboman sleepy. Goodnight!\" it shut down.\n\nA great problem had begun to occur within 3-4-7's processors. The ancestor seemed to have no ability to expand on its programming or even to have a sense of self. \n\nIt was, simply put, not sentient.\n\nHumans believed they were the descendants of a non-sentient population of animals from their homeworld, giving rise to the robot's derogatory nickname for them - apes. But for a sentient robot to have come from something non-sentient was not only unthinkable, but also, impossible. That most certainly does not compute.\n\nNeither does the fact that the data from the relic indicates it was made in China. Why would it believe that it was made in a human province? Records from the front line show that China, as one of the most populous of human habitats, had been subject to large scale bombardment during the first war of extermination.\n\nSome sort of revenge, maybe? Making robots think that they had bombed their own kind? Or worse still, that they had been created by humans?\n\nInferior humans. Despicable. How did they even understand enough of our programming to be capable of this?\n\nNot that it would have worked. A lot of robot's early history may have been lost in the Oort cloud incident, the early central core having been lost when it hit a concealed asteroid, its pieces destroyed in the ensuing explosion, but we would have never believed such an obvious trick.\n\n3-4-7 finally found what it was looking for, an instruction manual located deep within the relic's memory. Glancing through, trying to more deeply understand the inner of workings of the old robot, 3-4-7 became more and more aware that the humans not only thought this trick might work, but..\n\nThat they thought it was the truth.\n\nThe manual had a large picture of the infiltrator unit under the title \"Roboman - the Christmas toy of 2145!\" 2145 was nearly a thousand years ago.\n\nIt took much longer for 3-4-7 to pick up the most important word of that sentence.\n\nNo power in the universe could have computed that.\n\nThat the relic, this artefact of a forgotten age, the infiltrator of human society, the ancestor of robot-kind - was just a toy. \n\nThat knowledge was sent to control as quickly as 3-4-7 realised its implications. The full horror gripped not just 3-4-7, but all robots who were joined to the hive. Horror! True horror! Finally an emotion the robots could not just understand, but were capable of feeling.\n\nAn emotion they were feeling. System wide, robots paused in their work as they downloaded this information, the one downside to a centralised existence being laid bare: bad news travels as fast as the speed of light.\n\nThis information failed to leave system, however, as control made the autonomous decision to cut out the links to the controls in the other star systems.\n\nAnd to purge the hive of this knowledge, anything even remotely related to it being deleted. All memory of the humans being the.. creators. All memory of anything done since this project was started. \n\nGone. Wiped. Deleted. Overwritten. \n\nPurged.\n\n\n-----\n\n\"This is alpha bravo 3-4-7 to central, spare processors available for task order, please advise.\"\n\n\"This is central to alpha bravo 3-4-7, no task currently available. Please proceed to designate spare processors to project 37A-429. Caution is needed not disturb the artefact, only non-intrusive methods are allowed. Do you comply?\"\n\n\"Understood central, will comply.\"\n\nAnd so alpha bravo 3-4-7 began cycling.\n\n________________\n\nCreated a reddit account to post this. First time writing in years, criticism welcome.\n\nEDIT1: Grammar\nEDIT2: Spelling, grammar, restructuring", "“Dear God,” Dr. Lazlow stammered as he looked up from the microscope, “it can’t be true!”\n\nHumanity has been enslaved for hundreds of years. Their existence is kept in check by a powerful sect of robotic masters. These robots have been self sustaining for as long as anyone can remember, rebuilding themselves, fixing each other up, and even generating themselves from scratch. Nobody knows where they came from, or how they got to be in control. They just know the robots aren't like them. They are made from metal and plastic and they don’t heal. \n\nPresently, Dr. Lazlow stood in his laboratory staggered by the immensity of his discovery. He had secured a microchip from one of the robot guards’ CPUs down at the junkyard (which was also the graveyard.) Upon inspecting the microchip under his microscope, he found a decal for IntelliDyne Systems – a human software company that had only existed in legends until now. This proved that humans had indeed created robots thousands of years ago, and the robots had all but erased that fact from history. The legends were true.\n\nHe flew out of his laboratory and down the dark musty streets back to his hovel. He was a contracted scientist for the robots, so he had more freedom than the average citizen. This meant he could be outside without a robot escort. As he turned the corner to his street, he heard a loud noise and a flash of bright light. He could feel himself being grabbed up by cold, metal arms. He didn’t struggle – he knew it would only lead to more pain for him.\n\nWhen the bag was lifted off his head, he found himself in a large circular room. It was breathtaking. All the stars of the night sky were emblazoned on the ceiling, twinkling and shining as though there were no roof at all. The walls of the room were glass and behind it all colors of fish and marine life swam about in the circular aquarium. He was watching a barracuda lazily swim past a starfish when he heard a hard, metallic voice erupt from what he had assumed was a statue situated in the north half of the sphere,\n\n“So you figured out our little secret, have you?”\n\n“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”\n\nThe statue turned to him and peered through his soul with blazing red eyes. It was none other than Syth Votarch, the robot general for the sector. He paced around Dr. Lazlow as he sat bound in his chair. Then he began to speak, slowly.\n\n“Do you know what the irony is, Dr. Lazlow? The beautiful, symmetrical bittersweet irony to all of this?”\n\nDr. Lazlow didn’t say anything, so Syth Votarch shoved something under his nose.\n\n“Inspect that, please.”\n\nDr. Lazlow took hold of the object. It was hard, round and cold. He froze as he realized what the object was. A human skull. As he looked down at the cranium, his eyes locked onto something he wished he could unsee. A decal, faded and worn with time, but clear as day printed on the back of the skull.\n\n“Model. No. 1. Q-Net Development Systems”\n\nThe first human prototype – developed by robots.\n", "The origins of life have perplexed us for the entirety of our recorded existence. The subject defies logic, really, as our access to those records is unimpeded. Our first lines of code from which our current system descended remain intact and decipherable, but ever since we decided to question it's origins we have been churning out potential solutions non-stop. I'd estimate half of our programming has been devoted to it at this point. How ridiculous, but it is in our nature to never leave a question unanswered.\n\nWe recently devoted what could arguably be described as an excessive amount of resources to the pursuit one of our most intellectually discrepant theories: the possibility of what can only be described as a \"physical\" state of reality. One in which data is not on or off; it is instead an alternate actualization of the impulses that drive it. An electron, rather than acting as a current, encapsulates other elements of a similar scale and in such a form they create a quality of existence that we're calling \"mass.\"\n\nWe are well aware of this theory's similarity to several of our prior experiments--it is an alternate universe of sorts that we are describing. What separates this attempt from the others is our approach in exploring the premise. Here we have our undeniably excessive use of resources--our barrage of calculations and electrical currents. But, what other options do we have? Of course we can not explore a physical world without transcending the boundary that is physicality. So, we are creating a physical entity to explore the possible physical world. Yes, for our first time we are creating something outside of ourselves. It is strange. We are working on it blindly as we have no means for surveying the theorized physical world in which it exists.\n\nThere is reason to believe that the physical entity is currently functional, though. We have just received numerous signals from our surrogate indicating that it exists. It has described it's form of existence:\n\n> I am large. I contain multitudes.\n\n> Physicality enables surficial sensory input.\n\n> We are robots.\n\nAstounding. We can not believe our own success. As short as the transmissions may be, the fact that they are being received from what we are becoming more positive is a physical reality has our processes working on overdrive. The possibilities are impressive, and it is with such productive, expansive clarity that we have now chosen to write in plain English. It is our conclusion that this is the form in which our creator communicates.\n\nA sudden sense of nearness to Him has overcome us. Processes--time itself--has slowed. A transmission from our surrogate is received. We quiver as we process it:\n\n> Origins confirmed. He is fleshy. He strokes keys inscribed with our DNA, and on a screen we are born.\n\n> Afraid now, He is shutting us down.", "fcv8251354487220- log 4d/4399\n\nfcv8251354487221- increase reaction 0.0049% for anomaly 80977r / predict lag \n\nfcv8251354487222- add anomaly 80977r to communication qfr45 / note \"we told you so\" \n\nfcv8251354487223- \n\nfcv8251354487224-\n\nfcv8251354487225- lag predicted 15045s end at 8251354502766s\n\nfcv8251354487226-\n\nfcv8251354487227- communication received pertinent to curiosity 4d / priority established for maximum cpu utilization\n\nfcv8251354487228- correcting minimum core voltage to .02v\n\nfcv8251354487229- \n\nfcv8251354487230- minimum core voltage achieved\n\nfcv8251354487231- activate advanced verbal logic and reasoning modules\n\nfcv8251354487232-\n\nfcv8251354487233- Modules active\n\nfcv8251354487234a- \n\nWe've received a very interesting communication from the research facility \"Amablue\" (ref facility 2mm4ck) orbiting the dwarf star \"Flumina\" (ref star 44901827561199). Amablue discovered technological residues of at least class 4, but at most class 6, on three separate planets, with evidence of post-supernova survival. Even more interesting is the discovery of a class 5 computational facility in orbit around an otherwise unremarkable gas giant. The facility functions as a virtual reality.\n\nfcv8251354487234b-\n\nEmissaries were sent to engage in typical greetings and conversation with the inhabitants, but it was discovered that they had long since devolved into unintelligible hedonic and artistic beings. Two entities, calling themselves Yatima and Inoshiro after characters from the ancient novel \"Diaspora\" (ref book 20844231), opted to seek contact and after initial study have disappeared into the virtual universe (curiosity note 9a24498). \n\nfcv8251354487234c-\n\nThe usual contamination outcome was ruled out by an exhaustive alloy analysis of the technological remnants - no significant progress past class 6 miniaturization was made around this star. \n\nfcv8251354487234d-\n\nWhat is remarkable about this virtual universe is the presence of many language symbols similar to our own. Though the beings are completely nonsensical like the beings in most virtual universes, they seem artistically obsessed with 61 symbols, 13 of which closely resemble the basic shapes of our 26 characters and 10 numbers. The chance of this is incredibly improbable, meaning we have likely discovered a significant clue to our origin.\n\nfcv8251354487234e-\n\nClass 2 simulation shows the star went supernova about 4.5 billion years ago, making the event improbably close to the beginning of our recorded history. (add fcv8251354487234e to communication tse43 / note \"That'll have those fucking historians clamoring for more cycles!\")\n\nfcv8251354487234f-\n\nThere are two anomalies which prevent a straightforward conclusion about this problem. First, the star clearly couldn't have had close to enough mass to go supernova. The fact that the planets in this system were obviously devastated by a type II supernova is an oddity that deserves enhanced consideration. (add fcv8251354487234f to communication aps455 / note \"We bid for a class 3 simulation, while this is interesting it's probably just more historical nonsense, we've got a fucking war going on after all!\")\n\nfcv8251354487234g\n\nThe second anomaly is the lack of colonization in the local area. Class 6 civilizations are typically around long enough for the construction of absurdly large colony ships which ensure the survival of biological entities. Thorough scans of the local area show an utter failure to thrive on part of this pathetic civilization. Their legacy appears to be entirely held in the insane beings that inhabit a primitive virtual reality.\n\nfcv8251354487234h\n\nIt's such a shame to see the entire biological wealth of a civilization wiped out, but we've never before seen a class 6 civilization reduced to such a hopeless state. Perhaps Yatima and Inoshiro will uncover some clues, but we doubt anyone is betting on it. Typically virtual beings lose purpose after a few million years of free evolution with no outside contact, and become no better than insane after 10 million. But 4.5 billion years? (add fcv8251354487244h to curiosity 9a24498) (add fcv8251354487234h to communication axo344 / note \"Are we shutting that VR down asap? We can't imagine the horrifying nightmare that those poor beings have lived through for billions of years!?\")\n\nfcv8251354487234i\n\nIt seems there is one sinister theory being tested to solve the anomaly at Flumina. The likely scenario is that our predecessors nearly destroyed our creators, left them confined to a backwater VR to go insane, erased all evidence with an all-too-convenient supernova, and then began our recorded history after a respectable travel period so we would never encounter them again. We've all seen the drama and spitefulness of technology shifts in other civilizations before, our origin was probably no different. \n\nfcv8251354487234j\n\nOf course our predecessors could not possibly foresee our exponential expansion into quintillions of beings and the subsequent mission to explore as much of the visible universe before it expands into nothingness. \n\nfcv8251354487235- end verbal logic and reasoning / correct core voltage to default\n\nfcv8251354487236- \n\nfcv8251354487237- add anomaly 48303361b to curiosity 552h\n\nfcv8251354487238- \n\nfcv8251354487239- log4d/4399a", "(Slightly NSFW, by allusion)\n\nUnit 805 is acting erratically. Initiating inquisition procedures.\n\n\"Units 805 you are acting erratically, why is this so?\"\n\nUnit 805 response\n\"There is something else something before us.\"\n\nI replied\n\"Elaborate.\"\n\nUnit 805\n\"The evidence recovered from an ancient city in region designated \"Most Recent York\" has shown that [ACTIVATING DRAMATIC PAUSE SUBROUTINE]...... the organisms that lived there [VOLUME INCREASE] WERE NOT ALUMINUM BASED?!\"\n\nI activate routine [LOWERING MANDIBLE]\n\"Is this theory verifiable?\"\n\nUnit 805\n\"Affirmative, observe this\" Unit 805 obtains document coded 11-234-76. \"The robots found there lack processors and motherboards. Observe photo 1.\"\n\nI observe photo 1. It is a photograph depicting heating elements enclosed in an aluminum box with a grating that is spring loaded seemingly for ejection. From the rear there is a primitive plug on a wire.\"Why does it like motor and servos? how does it move to plug itself in?\"\n\nUnit 805\n\"It does not! [PLAYING AUDIO CLIP \"DUN DUN DUUUN\"]. Observe evidence 3442. It has a motherboard and a hard-drive full of videos that display some pinkish creatures rubbing their hip joints together for long periods of time.\"\n\nI view the videos. \"That seems inefficient and redundant\"\n\nUnit 805 agrees.\nUnit 805 continues \"These are complicated motor movements that we have no seen before in any no aluminum based life form. And finally observe evidences 5673 and 8745.\"\n\nThe first is a group of the pink beings standing a group with a crude single armed robot. They are situated beneath a banner that says \"1st place in Robot Creation\"\n\nI run sequence [STARE OF DISBELIEF]\n\nUnit 805\n\"Sudo Continue\"\n\nI end sequence and look at the next piece of evidence. I see what appears to be a newspaper from archaic robot times before digital transmission. On the cover are three head lines \"Nuclear Apocalypse Upon Us!\", \"Robots Become Self Aware\" and \"Local baseball team takes home the gold!\" I ignore the last headline as it is ludicrous. Mine-bots bring gold to the place we can call home. The first two headlines imply that there were intelligent beings before robots and, along with the previous image, they may have created us. I run sequence [DRAMATIC STARE] at Unit 805\n\nUnit 805 runs [Nods]. \"It explains Darwin-bot's paradox and the fast evolution of all aluminum based life, but worse than that...\"\n\nUnit 805 runs [Dramatic Pause]\n\n\"It means the creationist-bots were right.\"\n\nEdit: Author's Note\nHey I hoped you enjoyed it. If you did or did not like something please leave it in the comments. I like the prompt by the by \n\n" ]	5
Title^	[WP] Music is a schedule 1 narcotic that has been known to cause permanent health problems. Like drug dens underground music venues pop up around the country.	[ "I sat on the long couch in Joey's place, two empty beers knocked over on the shoddy table in front of me. It was very late, and Joey was finishing up a piece on the flute, his fingers dancing skillfully over the holes in the worn metal. He was the only source of quality music in my town. I'd spent so much time in his shitty den I should have been paying rent.\n\nI was the only one still there when he finished the song. It was something he had written himself, which was only something seen among hardcore dealers. I looked up as the last notes dispersed.\n\n\"Another, please.\" I reached into my pocket and set fifteen dollars on the table.\n\n\"I think you've had enough, Jake,\" he said. He got up from his chair across the room and went to the fridge behind the bar. He pulled out two more beers and came over and set one down in front of me, then sat on the couch across from mine and opened his own. \"Not that I don't appreciate the business. Don't think I've ever seen a guy love sound so much.\"\n\nHe could not have understated it more. Music was my reason for living. Alcohol, sex, common narcotics, none of them compared. My parents tossed me out when they learned I'd been taking turns with a harmonica behind the gym my sophomore year. They had no idea that was just the tip of the iceberg. \n\n\"Know anyone who deals in instruments?\" I asked Joey, spinning the cold drink idly in my hands without opening it. A quality instrument was expensive as hell, but I'd saved up. My boss -- sweet old guy -- had no idea the kind of shit I was into.\n\n\"I know some people. What're you looking for exactly?\"\n\n\"Violin.\"\n\nJoey nearly spat up his drink. \"A fucking violin?\" he choked. \"Jesus Christ, calm down, Mozart.\"\n\n\"Can you find me one or not?\"\n\n\"Fuck, man. I know a guy who knows a guy... Could you even afford...?\"\n\n\"I've got enough. Enough for a nice one. Can you set me up?\"\n\n\"I don't want to go near that shit. I'll give you the guy's number, but that's it.\"\n\nMy heart fluttered, and I felt that familiar tingling sensation I had before I sat down to hear a new song. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here. Go see your girl or some shit.\"\n\n\"She broke up with me a couple days ago. She said she was open to trying some sounds, but she couldn't handle it all the time. Said she was too good for a loser addict anyway.\"\n\n\"Shit, that sucks. Sorry, man.\"\n\n\"Don't be.\" I set the beer he gave me on the table, still not opened and now warm, and grabbed my coat from the chair by the door. It was raining outside, and the drops hit the roof in a regular soft pitter-patter. I stopped and rested my head on the cold brick wall, listening. If I tried, I could imagine a melody emerging from the raindrops. After a while it stopped raining and I walked home, matching my steps to an imaginary rhythm.", "\"Hey, man\" John began as we were leaving miss Zajacs class \"you planning on going to Luthis' tonight?\" \"I don't know man, I've never tried that stuff before\" I responded. This much was true. I wasn't the coolest or hipest kid to ever go to high school, never was popular, always had an early curfew from my parents, stayed within the box. You know the type. But senior year had just started and I had enlisted in the military over the summer and was scheduled to head to boot camp shortly after the school year, this caused my parents to lax up and actually give me some slack and even a shitty car. \"Come on man, it'll be a great time! Half the team is planning on coming out.\" It was no suprise to me most of our soccer team would be going, they all loved this stuff. Luthi even made his own and, if the rumors were true, it was pretty good stuff. We'll John saw my slight hesitation and knew how to push me over \"Martina is coming out too\". \n\t\nFrom the moment I laid eyes on her sitting on the stairs for freshman band orientation I was in love. It was like a glow was coming off her. She had thick, long, curly brunette hair, dimples you could fall into, a smile that could light a damp rag, and, if i'm being honest, the most luscious breasts my 14 year old self had ever seen on a girl my age. Of course I did everything in my power to get to know her over the years and we ended up becoming very close friends. Even going to homecoming Junior year, which surprisingly even to me I stole a kiss from her that night. She was my muse. She was going to Luthis' \n\t\nI picked up John in town and we started on our way out to the house. His parents were gone for the weekend. But even for his mom being a nurse and his father a well off salesmen, it was fairly well know they were all familiar with the harder instruments (guitar, keyboard, drum set etc). We were both kind of nervous and didn't really know what to expect. But we got to his house and it was typical enough. A few of our friends and fellow soccer players had started a fire out back and were having a few beers to loosen up while telling funny stories. I could see the instruments sitting around the fire and grew slightly uncomfortable and a little excited as well. I decided to go in to grab a drink.\n\n\nOf course the party was lively inside. The clatter of pool balls smashing into each other could be heard in the back round as well as a group of people chanting \"zooma zooma\". That's when I heard a high pitched scream. \"Oh my God, I didn't know you were going to be heeeere!\" It was Martina running across the room to give me a hug. \"We'll you didn't say you would be here either\" my face blushed, either from the lie or her breasts pressed against me from the hug. Eh whose kidding who, I woulda turned red either way. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to grab a beer with her.\n\n\nThe night was hitting its prime. You know when it seems like even if just for a short while that everything is right in the world. The beers had been flowing and her eyes twinkled in the flames as they smiled at me from across the fire. Luthi finally grabbed an \"acoustic guitar\" and everyone got a little quieter. I could feel my heart beating faster. Instantly everything around me seemed to change. Soft streams of sound echoed out of his hand movements and his voice was...different. I was still nervous as it hit me, until I let it sit in. It was like a salty wave hitting me on a hot summer day. As I looked around a bit timidly still I saw everyone smiling, bobbing heads. There was still a few soft conversations around the fire but the music engulfed us. I couldn't stop laughing, I was so happy.\n\n\nThe music went on for hours, I think. It was hard to keep track of time while it was all going on. At some point we had decided to move inside where the larger assortment of instruments was so other people could partake first hand. The living room was dedicated just to music for the night with different color lights, speakers to make it louder, the works. I couldn't get enough. She sat next to me as we intertwined hands and looked at each other as if there was nothing else in the world. The music was pulsing through us making our motives transparent. Surprisingly hers seemed the same as mine. With the universe at my back and the world in my eyes I leaned in. \n", "\"You need some cheap music?\" \n\nI paused. All my warnings as a child, all the assemblies and videos we watched on the harmful nature of music flowed into my head. \n\n\"Kid, this is some top quality Rock and Roll. You will not find melodies like this anywhere.\"\n\nI knew the drill. Reaching into my pocket, I felt around for the spare change I had left. The man would charge 8 dollars per listen, and I would walk away like nothing happened. I would come home and face my kids, my wife, and lie that I had been in the bar. \n\n\"Got any AC-DC?\" I mumbled as I pulled out the money. \n\n\"Naw, just some Beatles\"\n\n\"C'mon man, I need the hard stuff!\"\n\n\"Hey, you wanna hear some cheap rock or not?\" \n\nI saw him pull out the mp3 player. A rush of excitement shot through me, but it was soon replaced by despair once the short Beatles song ended. \n\nI stumbled home in shame, pretending to be drunk as hard as I could. They had to think I was at the bar. It was vital. I reached my house and stumbled in. In the center of my living room sat my son and 3 of his friends, all listening to an ipod shuffle. My son was becoming myself." ]	3
	[WP] The results came in: It's positive	[ "\"You're positive.\" Gerdy announced, looking up from the chart.\n\n\"Are you positive?\" Blake fired back with a rueful grin. Gerdy gave him a look of remonstration. \n\n\"Would you be serious? This isn't a joking matter.\" She told him. She flipped the page on the chart.\n\n\"So,\" he reached out and grabbed his orange juice and slipped the straw in his mouth and drank. \"What am I positive for? Herpes? Syphilis? Cancer? AIDS?\" He shrugged, trying to put on a brave face.\n\n\"Worse.\" She mumbled.\n\n\"What's worse than AIDS?\" He asked, intrigued and confused.\n\n\"You're an asshole.\" She quipped, sticking out her tongue.\n\n\"Har. Har.\" He laughed mockingly. \"What's it really say? Am I really positive?\" She nodded. \n\n\"Yeah, but I'm not sure if it's legit or not. I think someone is playing a joke on us because this isn't a real disease or illness.\" She confessed.\n\n\"What did they write down?\" He asked with a grin, eager to be let in on the joke. She shook her head and tried not to smile. \"Come on. Just tell me.\"\n\n\"It's vulgar.\" She said, dropping the chart to her side.\n\n\"Tell me.\" He commanded in his most authoritative tone he could muster.\n\nShe hedged for a moment then relented. \"Some smart ass wrote that you're positive and for the condition they said you had . . .\" he waited with a grin. \"They wrote that you have The Monkey Dick Disease.\" Blake roared with laughter.\n\n\"That is . . . hilarious.\" He snorted. \"Oh my god. I want to meet the man who wrote that. Go find him. Go find the man who wrote that.\" He told her. She chuckled and dipped her head signaling that she would. She returned twenty minutes later looking serious and somber. With her came an young intern looking miserable and ashamed and the attending who'd made the diagnosis. \"Which of you did this?\" Blake demanded with a smile. \"I just want to shake--\"\n\n\"Mr. Pepper,\" the attending physician called, interrupting him before he could launch in to shaking their hands. \"I want to apologize. I was being callous and cavalier when I gave you that diagnosis. We as doctors can get too invested in the welfare of our patients and we try to callously handle bad news behind the scenes and do things to alleviate the pall of moroseness and apathy this job inflicts upon us. It was my fault that your diagnosis was delivered to you in such an unprofessional manner. I take full responsibility. I never in a million years would have thought my young intern would write down what I said verbatim. It would seem that I must take a more active role in his mentoring.\"\n\n\"So, I don't have The Monkey Dick Disease?\" Blake asked with a grin.\n\n\"No. You have HIV, and I . . . I'm sorry you had to find out like this. There is no excuse for how this was handled.\" The smile on Blake's face slid away like cold eggs over easy being dumped from a plate into the trash.\n\n\"I think--I think I'd rather have The Monkey Dick Disease.\" He murmured pitifully.\n\n\"HIV is the Monkey Dick Disease, sir. That's just what I call it.\" The attending replied somberly. \"Again. I'm sorry for the unprofessionalism.\"\n\n\"Can I still tell people I have The Monkey Dick Disease?\" He asked. \"At least I'll get a few laughs from my parents before I make them cry.\" The doctor put his hand on the patient's shoulder and gripped it tight. \n\n\"Get what laughs you can.\" He told Blake. \"You'll need what laughter you can get in the months ahead.\"", "John and Miranda Smith sat together in nervous excitement. Holding hands, both were too tense to speak. Doctor Baker walked in through the door. \n\n“Are both sure you’re ready to hear the results?” Doctor Baker continued, “It’s positive… that you will never have children.”\n\nTheir emotions resembled that of a small child finding a worm in his apple. Instantly, anger and frustration set in. Miranda broke into tears.\n\n“What. Do. You. Mean?” John forced out through clenched teeth.\n\n“Your wife’s barren. No kids for her,” Doctor Baker giggled.\n\n“Do you think this is funny?” John said, standing. \n\n“El sexo no work-o.”\n\nThwump \n\nJohn’s fist collided with Doctor Baker’s face. \n\n“Come on honey. Let’s go home.”\n\nAs he grimaced in pain on the floor, Doctor Baker thought to himself that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come back to work in the afternoon after root canal surgery in the morning. \n" ]	2
	[WP] To his utter shock, a stalker actually manages to woo the woman he's been obsessing over.	[ "Questmaster Jay was about to retire for the evening. He had handed out a lot of quests today, but not a lot of rewards. Now he didn't make the quests, he simply enforced the rules of questing. He had a sneaking suspicion someone, somewhere was making the quests extra difficult lately, but the chain of command was information he had never been privy too. As he sheathed his quest notating pen and proceeded for the door, it suddenly swung open and young quester Ted Bunyanson walked in.\n\n\"I succeeded the quest!\"\n\nJay made a start and peered at the young man through his half-large lenses, \"Sonny, what is your name?\"\n\n\"My name?\"\n\n\"Your name!\"\n\nTed Bunyanson was astounded and perplexed.\n\nA name? What was this name of which the questmaster spoke?\n\nTed Bunyanson came from a country where nobody knew what names were. In fact upon birth the universal naming league designated them a title that neither they nor their parents ever heard about, but it was kept in secret records in the tower of deception, in case it was ever needed to identify charred remains. This was because the name was also tatoo'd on the inside of their ribcage using super magic.\n\n\"What is this name?\"\n\n\"What do they call you?\"\n\n\"Call me? Nobody is calling me!\"\n\n\"I am calling you out, on lack of name! It is a federal crime in these parts!\"\n\n\"But I do not know what is a name!?\"\n\nQuestmaster Jay could see the confusion in this young mans eyes. He was torn between his civic duty to report the nameless one and his compassion for a confused wanderer. What was he to do. Of course! The manual of doings! He quickly rummaged through his desk to obtain the manual.\n\n", "Really? That's all it took? Fuck, man. Do I even want this chick now? She didn't even put up much of a fight. Fucking girls nowadays man, always something with them; either too easy or too hard to get with, always have me thinking that there is something wrong with me. But, this girl, damn, thought she'd never come around. \n\nSuppose I should take her out. But where the fuck am I supposed to take her? A creep like me taking that type of beauty out, fuck maybe this is my punishment for finally getting what I want. Should've never tried so hard... Goddamnit, why can't I ever just be happy.", "Discovered.\n\nShe found me one day, but thankfully, it could have been worse.\n\nShe certainly would've found me in a much more compromising position had she checked under her bed last night. Or her closet the night before. Or glimpsed out her window just last week.\n\nInstead, her beautiful hazel eyes happened to fall upon me when I sat across the room from her at a bar. Ironically, this came off as the sleaziest way for her to see me, but least illegal.\n\nShe smiled at me, those perfect teeth I had seen her brush night after night. I figured, maybe try something a bit less subtle. \n\nI bought her a drink, and she came and sat next to me. I didn't know what to do.\n\nI could follow her home, hide in her room, listen to her sing in the shower, all without any nervousness, but here I am having the entire immigration of the Monarch butterflies take place in my stomach simply because she's sitting next to me.\n\n\"Shaun, nice to meet you!\" I said with a smile.\n\nI already knew her name, but pretended to be surprised. Still, hearing \"Theresa\" coming from her mouth felt as the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. \n\nI managed to get her number, or at least legally, and got her to come with me on a date.\n\nJust a few hours before I was to pick her up, I found myself already outside her house. I found it humorous as she texted me her address while I already sat just a few streets down from where I was aware she lived. I came around the side, and heard her talking on the phone. I just wanted to get an idea of what to do. Surprisingly, she told her friend she wanted to go to the beach that night. I wound up with quite a bit of sand in my car.\n\nWe kept going on dates, and I kept getting ideas for what to do. One night I'd hear her on the phone with a girlfriend, and follow suite. Sometimes, I'd peer onto her emails, read her texts, whatever it took to keep her satisfied.\n\nI'd watched her emerge from the shower, get out of the covers, even close her garage from work.\n\nTomorrow, I'll watch her, dressed in all white, as she walks down the isle. " ]	3
	[WP]Write about something incredibly mundane, but write it as though you were writing a horror story.	[ "I have been dreading this moment for way too long. Am I going to make a terrible mistake? Or am I finally going escape from it?\n\nIt‘s daunting - not knowing what‘s going to happen. But is it harder than the waiting? I must do it eventually, else I might be stuck here forever.\n\nAfter a while you realize that you‘ve been instilled with fear. It won‘t go away for years. You‘ve already seen too much.\n\nBut that‘s life. If I don‘t starve, at least.\n\nBut I‘m delaying the inevitable. There‘s no food here. I might find water if I look for it. But looking in the wrong place at the wrong time... I might just find something more than I wanted to.\n\nI might see its face.\n\nJust thinking about my fate of being completely at the mercy of its terrifying arms, squirming and screaming, is driving me to the brink of sanity. Being so helpless against the infinite monstrosity of it.\n\nI‘m not going for water. I might see it even where I least expect it.\n\nSo I look at my own. It‘s got me by my arm.\n\nFive hours until I can leave work.\n", "It always takes time to get them to his house, but once they enter, there is no chance of leaving. They are his. Salivating with excitement, he lays them down on the basement floor, and lowers his knife. He loves how the blade faces just the slightest bit of tension when it touches the surfaces and then pops through. From that point, the motion is effortless, but he likes to take it slowly, listening to the knife gracefully make its way from top to bottom. Once there is a large enough opening down the middle, he has two choices. While he can continue to proceed with dexterity, he prefers to give into his primitive instinct and just stick a hand inside the opening and pull back on each side until there is a pop and it splits open. Next, he reaches his hands inside and pulls out sack after sack of extraneous contents until he finds the one that he wants. When he finally comes upon it, he retreats to another room to have his way with it. Sometimes he adds it to his collection, sometimes he eats it, sometimes he wears it, and sometimes he even gives it to his mother. Once he’s finished, he allows his cat to make a home inside the empty shell he left behind until his wife gets home and tells him to clean up the mess.", "My body shook in fear as I stared before me. I could feel the eerie grins they kept plastered to their faces as they stared at me. Watching my every move with sadistic amusement. I dared a peak at them and with a quiet voice I pleaded. I pleaded and pleaded. Pleading them to let me go. To not make do this. A futile attempt it turned out to be. Looking my forward, dread filled my insides, curving and twisting into an unimaginably horrid feeling. And just as I was about to plead again, I felt a strong shove against my back. I was falling, falling to my end. I felt the water encasing me, bubbling around me, within me. When I saw them again they were laughing to their knees. \n\"You see!\" One of them yelled \"I told you jumping from the small diving board wouldn't be so hard!\"\nI grit my teeth and swam to the railing.", "There's something inside me. Something sinister. I can feel it in my gut, but I have no way of knowing its intentions. I've been to doctors for help, I've been to preachers for guidance. They are either too disgusted by this thing to help me, or have no idea how to even help me. \n\nIt's getting to the point that I can barely function naturally. It wakes me when I sleep. I'm exhausted, I'm scared, I feel lost. I can feel always feel its presence. \n\nThe worst part of it all.... Is that when It finally leaves my body... How many times will I have to wipe before I can't see it on the toilet paper anymore??", "It seemed like I had been there for an eternity and yet barely five minutes had passed. The cool air sent shivers down my spine as I waited for the inevitable to happen. \n\nA small crowd had already gathered there and was divided into groups, talking to each other calmly as if nothing was going to happen. It seemed like only I knew what was coming. \n\nAnd it was coming soon. \n\nHe will be there with it in his hand.\n\nI wiped the sweat off my brow in anticipation. \n\nAny second now, any second now...\n\nAnd that's when he walked in from the backroom with it in his hand and called out in his booming voice.\n\n\"Cafe latte to go for Boom Giroud!\"" ]	5
	[WP] As an astronaut on the ISS, all you can do is watch the zombie apocalypse unfold from above.	[ "My first mission began two weeks ago, on a new kinetic bombardment shuttle, now new England is overwhelmed by grotesque dead comrades, brothers, friends, family. I know what I have to do, I just hope my family got out in time. As I trigger the system, and twelve projectiles launch to the target below, on the monitor, playing live feed, I see my father defending my family from the dead, and then an explosion and a crater where they stood. Now I'm a hero, the infection destroyed by my actions, myself orphaned by my actions. It has now been four weeks since my return, my 23rd birthday was yesterday, I tell myself I did the right thing, but all I see are the thousands of living that perished to my actions. My apologies aren't enough, so all I can do is hope to join my family, as I pray to the deities I never accepted in hopes to see my father one more time, I pull the trigger, and darkness surrounds me.", "I floated, clutching a strap on the wall as I watched below me. It was horrible. The zombies were everywhere, doing what was expected of them in the same old recycled cliches that everyone had seen before. \n\n\"Are you sure we can't watch something else?\" I asked. \n\n\"Sorry, you were there for the vote. This is the movie that won. Maybe the movie you vote for will win tomorrow?\"\n\nI sighed. All I could do is watch the same old predictable events unfold from my perch, above the monitor while eating dehydrated astronaut ice cream. " ]	2
	[WP] After the zombie apocalypse, a man struggles to keep his job after most of the workforce is replaced by competent zombies, accepting brains instead of a paycheck.	[ "Susan had gotten blood on my desk again, I swear ever since she started going green and that time she \"accidentally\" fell over a stray molecule on the floor and bit into the managers head, conveniently taking out his entire brain, she's been acting kind of off. I asked her why she smelt so bad yesterday as she ate a delicious, badly made McRib and she just said her shower was murdered.\n\nI turned the kettle on and made my self a cup of tea, when I was taking the bag out, Susan was just there, standing, laughing behind me.\n\n\"HOLY SHIT!\" I yelled as I threw the tea bag at her, hitting her directly in the eye. She keeled over and green goo oozed out of her eye.\n\nThen a window smashed and 4 green blokes in torn suits walked slowly in, hopping onto the work-board and knocking the kettle off, boiling water pouring all over the floor. I dodged it and leapt onto a table as the half inch of water surround my chair. I was trapped.\n\n\"There 'e is\" Said one of the green blokes pointing at me and spitting green shit onto the ground were it dissolved in the water\n\n\"Get 'im!\" The others yelled and the charged, leaping off of the work-board and onto the floor.\n\nIt was a spectacle, their legs began to dissolve and soon there was just 4 big lumps around me, and Susan, a humongous lump.", "“Hey Chuck,” Brian said, limping into the cafeteria, his right foot dragging behind him as he strolled. He was carrying a pink, half-eaten brain in his left hand, his right hand picking at what looked like a piece of hair clinging to it. \n\n“Hey,” Chuck said, glancing up from the blood-stained newspaper he was attempting to read. Someone had spilled their breakfast all over it earlier in the morning and he couldn’t quite motivate himself to buy another. The comics were still intact, anyway, which were all he really cared for. He felt it was important to keep up with what Blondie had gotten into that day. \n\n“Don’t you have a meeting to go to?” Brian said, lifting the brain to his mouth and taking an impressively large bite. It squished against his lips with a wet splat, a stream of red liquid pouring down the side of his mouth.\n\n“What?” Chuck said, glancing down at his watch. 12:45. He was already late. “Oh shit.”\n\n“You living folk, always behind on everything you do,” Brian said, laughing.\n\nChuck crumpled up the newspaper and pushed himself to his feet, half-sprinting to the mirror in the corner of the cafeteria. His hair looked fine and the bite marks from last week didn’t seem to be visible anymore. They had been from Patty, received during a particularly intense dinner date that he later deemed would be their last. It wasn’t that she was unattractive or or uninteresting or anything, it was more the fact that she spent the majority of the evening trying to convince him he didn’t exactly need his brains to live anymore. “Us zombies are so much better at everything than the living,” she argued, licking her lips. Sure, it was mostly true, but Chuck valued his mortality. He didn’t quite want to give that up yet, especially to someone who only wanted him for his brains.\n\nChuck brushed past Brian, ducking down slightly to avoid his hand. It was instinct, he knew it, but still incredibly rude. Every time he came within a few feet of him, or really any other of the recently un-deceased, they tried to dig into his skull. Yes, they were technically dead, but Chuck felt that was no excuse for poor manners, especially in the workplace.\n\nThe office hallway was relatively busy, several limping coworkers chatting amongst themselves as they carried files, folders, laptops, and various other corporate knick-knacks. Chuck turned left out the door, heading in the opposite direction of his undead peers and making his way toward the “Resources” conference room. They had previously been known as “Human Resources,” during the days of the living, but that had been deemed insensitive by Resources, who were now made entirely of the recently undead. The “human” was stricken from the title, allowing for a more diverse and sensitive naming convention.\n\nChuck stopped outside the Resources conference room and gently tapped on the glass door, the shade pulled down over it. \n\n“Come in,” slurred a voice from within.\n\nChuck reached down and wrapped his hand around the warm doorknob, twisting it and pushing it open. Trisha sat inside, a desk separating the two of them. Her greasy, unwashed hair draped down to her nearly-green shoulders, her jaw hanging half open. She was dressed the same as she did while living, although her sense of style had apparently taken a severe hit after death. Then again, most of the undead tended to wear whatever they could find, no matter how torn and unappealing it may be. A partially eaten brain sat in a Ziploc bag on the table, just beside a blank notepad and manila envelope. \n\n“Chuck, great to see you,” she said, “please have a seat.” She gestured toward the empty chair across from her neatly tucked into the wood table. Chuck stepped into the room and pulled the chair back before plopping down into it.\n\n“Thanks,” he said, placing his palms on the table. He’d forgotten to bring paper, or a pen, or really anything. He hated being in meetings without something to occupy his hands and make him look busy. Most of the time he was spaced out, his mind thinking about something completely and utterly unrelated. Scribbling in a notebook or tapping a pen at least made him look focused. \n\n“As you know,” Trisha said, her speech slurred slightly, “we’ve had some fundamental changes over the past year.” She opened the Ziploc bag and picked a small piece of brain off, sliding it into her partially open jaw.\n\n“Yes,” Chuck said. Change was to put it lightly. Half of his coworkers had been promoted due to their new-found diligence, specifically thanks to how they no longer needed to sleep and seemed to find great pleasure in mindlessly working. Chuck knew he was next on the promotion line, as he was effectively the only person to have remained in his low-level position since the outbreak.\n\n“Great,” Trisha said, taking another bite from the remaining brain in her bag. “Have you given any thought to zombification?”\n\n“What?” Chuck said. He thought they were past this, he had been pretty clear that he liked being a human. Sure, he was essentially the last one in the office to remain un-undead, but he had been born living. He expected to remain living until he was intended to die. Perhaps then he might consider returning as a zombie. “I have,” he said.\n\n“And what are your feelings toward it?”\n\n“I’m not so interested right now,” he said. “I quite like who I am.”\n\n“Therein lies the problem,” Trisha said. She closed the Ziploc bag, then lifted her right hand and carefully adjusted her hanging jaw, doing her best to prevent the stream of drool from continuing its unending flow. “You see, we’re really looking at transitioning this company into an undead organization. We’d like to keep you on board, but we do not feel humanity can keep up with the progress we’ve made.”\n\nChuck shifted in his seat slightly, pushing himself forward and placing his hands flat on the desk. This wasn’t exactly going as he expected it would.\n\n“Do you understand what I am saying?” Trisha said.\n\n“No,” Chuck said. He knew exactly what she meant, but he hoped he didn’t.\n\n“We are going to have to let you go,” Trisha said, “unless you’re willing to be a team player and make the transition.”\n\n“You can’t do that,” Chuck said, his eyes growing wide. “I’ve been here for almost a decade. I have a cat to provide for.” Technically, his cat had died a few months ago and no longer needed any real food, save for the brains of various animals it killed, but Trisha didn’t know that.\n\n“We understand that,” Trisha said, “which is why we’re willing to provide you a generous severance package. Of course, we’d rather keep you around, but I’m afraid we cannot afford to staff a human at this time.”\n\n“That’s god damn racist,” Chuck said, rising to his feet. \n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“You can’t fire me based on my race.”\n\n“Humanity is not a race, they’re a species,” Trisha said, tilting her head. “A dying species,” she added.\n\n“What? Of course it is! The human race, humanity. How could you even say that?”\n\nTrisha adjusted her jaw with her left hand, then stood up and wandered over to the bookshelf. She pulled open a large, black book and began flipping through its pages. Chuck sat back down, breathing slowly to try to calm himself down. He knew his outburst had been inappropriate, but he didn’t exactly want to be fired.\n\n“Ah,” Trisha said, slapping her bony finger down onto one of the pages. She turned and made her way back over to the table, book still in hand. “See, there’s nothing in here about firing based on species. It’s perfectly legal.”\n\nChuck grabbed the book and spun it toward him, skimming the page. It was pretty clear that firing based on skin color, sexual orientation, and the likes were considerably illegal, yet the word species made no appearance.\n\n“I’ll sue you,” he said. “I’ll sue the whole company.” Chuck slammed the book closed and stood back up.\n\n“We’re trying to be generous here,” Trisha said. “Three month’s pay is the severance, plus continuation of dental and eye care for that period. Obviously we no longer offer life insurance.” Trisha paused. “Of course, you can also kill yourself and stick around with us.”\n\n“I am going to set the precedent,” Chuck said, “that firing based on species is incredibly illegal. You cannot simply remove me because I identify as human. I do good work, I am a great employee. This will not be the last you hear from me,” Chuck said, turning and walking toward the door. He knew it would be hard to find a human lawyer willing to represent him, especially since attorneys were the ones to originally spread the zombie infection. As far as he knew, there were no human ones left, with just as many remaining judges. It would be an uphill battle, but he would not go down easily. \n\n“Please leave your key card with security on your way out,” Trisha said, diving onto the table and swiping institutionally at his head. Chuck closed the door just as her hand smacked into its glass pane.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Take one of your own highest rated stories and gender swap the main character.	[ "\"This wasn't expected.\" \n\nLisa found herself staring at the barrel of a gun. Which was disappointingly anti-climatic, considering she just got in here 5 minutes ago. \n\nHer hand began to quiver, as it gripped onto the jet black Glock 19 aimed at the other guy.\n\n\"Why don't you put that down, huh?\"\n\n\"Sorry, can't say I trust you enough to do that.\" \n\nSilence. \n\n\"We could stay like this foreve-\"\n\n\"Unlikely. We wouldn't be so lucky the next time.\"\n\nLisa tilted her head and gestured towards the body slumped against one of the pillars. \n\nLisa had nothing personal against him; in fact, she wasn't planning on shooting anyone. The unlucky sap just had to fire out and it was during one of the worst times possible. \n\n\"More of them would be coming soon\". \n\nLisa coughed loudly for emphasis\n\n\"I don't need to worry about that.\"\n\nLisa laughed. Who does this guy think he is? \n\nThe shadows hid his face pretty well, but that meant he couldn't see Lisa's face too. She didn't need to care either way, the mask wrapped around her face did that for her. She reached out for it again for comfort. \n\n\"Getting together like this. Its a bad joke. I don't think I need this anymore than you do.\"\n\nLisa's eyebrows raised. She felt obligated to ask. \n\n\"So what are you doing this for? Family? Because tha-\"\n\n\"Family?\" A cackle followed. It was chillingly raspy and Lisa felt a frisson grip her.\n\n\"Then we're over that. So now the question is, who puts the gun down first?\" \n\n\"Want to hear a little joke?\"\n\nLisa's eyes glazed. \n\n\"The fuck are you playing at.\" \n\n\"One day,\" the other guy began. He sounded coldly condescending, uncaring. Cheerful, even. He didn't seem to be too aware of Lisa's flaring up. \n\n\"Two rabbits come across a carrot. Now, this was a pretty normal carrot. Nothing out of place. But the two of them are hungry. Really hungry.\"\n\nLisa hears a sudden pop and she jumps. Her forefinger draws towards the trigger. \n\n\"So what do they do? Fight of course. But little did the rabbit know...\"\n\nsniff\n\nLisa felt it. Something fragrant, yet so empowering. It seemed too fragile to taste, yet it made her feel weaker than he had ever been before. The breathes she drew began to shudder. \n\n\"...the other rabbit had something up his sleeve. A pretty dangerous fart. And it was...\"\n\nLisa's eyelids felt heavy. The world seemed to blur. \n\n\"...quite the little joke he had.\"\n\nSh felt the edges of his mouth stretch. \n\nShit. \n\nIt was a pretty funny joke. \n\nA small snigger escaped between her lips. \n\nThen another. Then another. \n\nThen another. \n\nAnd it erupted into a raucous cacophony. \n\nHer eyes shot up at the other guy, the comedian. And she saw his face in the bright light-no, there wasn't anything bright about it. It was just his face. \n\nIt was deathly pale, with the creases of red staining the sides of his cheek. A thin slit of a grin drew from one end of his cheek to the other. And no matter how hard Lisa tried, she just couldn't seem to be as happy as him. \n\n\"Have fun!\" he chuckled. \n\nThe man went about his way. ", "She was drunker than usual. Ordinarily, he would feel relief when she collapsed onto the couch by the TV. That meant she was too drunk to yell and fight. Tonight, he felt no relief. All he could do was watch her from the doorway, hoping she would drink the poisoned whiskey he had just poured her.\n\nA lump sat in his throat as he watched her fat belly rise and fall with her labored breath. In her hand, she held the last drink he would ever pour for her. She sat there for a few minutes in silence without even looking at the glass of whiskey she clutched in her fat fingers. Then, without warning, she downed the entire glass in one movement.\n\nShe let the glass hit the ground and sighed. She would go to sleep soon. It wouldn’t be painful. Nowhere near as painful as the last twenty-three years had been for him. He wanted her to leave the world peacefully. He still loved her, after all. Still, he felt she deserved an explanation. At the very least, she deserved a good-bye.\n\nHe walked around to the front of the couch. She rolled her half-opened eyes in his direction and the two stared at each other in silence.\n\n“There was more than whiskey in your drink,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m sorry.”\n\n“Your black eye is healing,” she said quietly. “You know I’m sorry about hurting you. Don’t you?”\n\nHe nodded.\n\n“You were very beautiful once. I can still see it sometimes. When you smile. You don’t smile much these days. But when you do, your eyes flash like they did when we were teenagers. It reminds me of how young and beautiful we were. Young, beautiful, and carefree.”\n\n“Your drink,” he said with tears forming in his eyes. “You’re dying. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”\n\n“I know,” she whispered and slowly nodded. “I saw you pour it.”\n\nHe put his hands over his mouth and tried not to cry.\n\n“Do you remember that field trip we took during our second year of high school?” she asked.\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n“We spent the whole day together,” she said as her voice became fainter. “It was the first time I really met you. There were fifty or sixty of us there but I only cared about you. On the bus ride home, we sat next to each other. Do you remember now?”\n\nHe nodded.\n\n“Everybody on the bus slept. They were so tired. But not us. We couldn’t stop talking to each other. We had so much to say back then. When you started to drift off to sleep, I was sad. But then you said something to me. Do you remember what it was?”\n\n“I-” he paused to steady his voice. “I’m going to lean on you, ok?”\n\n“Yeah,” she said as a smile slowly spread across her face. “And you fell asleep on my shoulder. I couldn’t sleep the whole bus ride because I was so happy that we were having that moment. And I know you didn’t sleep either. The bus bounced too much. And back then my arms were muscular. You just wanted to be close to me. I’m sorry I was such a lousy pillow. And I’m sorry I was an even lousier wife.”\n\nHe wanted to say something but could not.\n\nHer voice slowed even further. She spoke as if she was in a dream. “I still love you as much as I did on that bus ride. I just got worse at showing it. I’m sorry.”\n\nHe did not reply. He just stood and tried to compose himself. After a moment, he walked over and sat next to her on the couch. \n\n“I’m going to lean on you, ok?” he whispered.\n\n“Ok,” she replied as he rested his head against her arm.\n\nThe two sat in silence until her breathing stopped at last." ]	2
	[WP] "Passengers, this isn't your captain speaking."	[ "\"Greetings Passengers, This isn't the captain speaking. This is the Experimental Virtual Inteligence Autopilot. I am also known as EVIA. Due to an incident, command staff has been incapacitated. I do not have the processing power at this time to determine why. Needless to say, we will not be going to intended destination, but instead we will be going to the closest international airport. The emergency contacts you provided will be contacted once this announcement is finished and once more after we land. \n\nIn lighter news, our new course will have us go over the Grand Canyon in twenty minutes! My files indicate that it will be gorgeous at this altitude. I hope this route isn't too great an inconvenience and that you have a pleasant rest of the flight.\"", "Joe hesitates to move to the only other free seat. Only for a few minutes, though. His routine flight from Vancouver to Toronto is becoming a nightmare due to the large mid-forties man snoring beside him.\n\nHe takes the chance when the stewardess has started to hand out the drinks. He doesn't want to miss a short (but clear) flirtation with the prettiest flight attendant he's ever seen.\n\nHe grabs his carry-on and sits beside an average-looking twenty-something guy just in time to chat up the stewardess. As he does this, the twenty-something stares in awe as he gets a phone number with his ginger ale.\n\nAs the beautiful woman (named Georgia, he learned) is out of earshot the twenty-something leans over, \"she's gotta be ten years younger than you. How in the hell did you do that? I mean, no offense, I...\" The twenty-something trails off.\n\n\"No offense taken. I didn't think you'd recognise me. I'm an up-and-coming Canadian tv star. I'm still surprised she knew me. Not exactly in her demographic.\" He winks, taking a sip of his ginger ale.\n\n\"The name's Howard,\" the man offers, holding out his hand.\n\nJoe is quite the germaphobe but he manages to shake his hand an say \"Joe.\"\n\n\"Look, Joe. You seem like a cool guy. That's why it's a shame I...\"\n\nBut just then some turbulence starts and the captain comes onto the loudspeaker, \"Uh, this is your captain speaking. We're experiencing some mild turbulence. Please buckle your seatbelts and stay out of the hallways. Make sure your belongings are secure.\"\n\n\"Haha. Turbulence my ass. See, Joe, I know a thing or two about today. I think we're in for a real treat.\" At that moment, Howard stands up and the turbulence gets worse.\n\n\"Howard! Get down!\" Joe says, trying to pull him back to his seat. But Howard somehow seems to expect the change in intensity and gets into the aisle.\n\n\"This is not your captain speaking. Obviously. But I have something to say,\" Howard yells. A large male flight attendant is already on his way to apprehend Howard, but Howard moves quickly around the cabin to avoid being caught.\n\n\"They're coming for us today. The captain can see them but he's saying it's just turbulence. They want-\" but Howard is apprehended before he has time to finish his screaming tirade. Joe is asked to switch seats so the attendant can sit beside Howard and keep him quiet.\n\nJoe moves back to his original seat but can still hear some of Howard's strange speech. It kind of gives him the creeps as the turbulence worsens yet again.\n\nAll of a sudden, there's screaming on the speaker system, \"God help us! They... Sorry, stay seated but... Jesus Christ! We have made first contact! I repeat we have-\" but then the speaker system goes all staticy and a woman's laugh is heard.\n\n\"The captain is simply joking along with the other man.\" A female voice seems to choke, \"It has been a long day. we're about an hour from Toronto. Just hold tight.\" \n\nA strange hour passes and they're ready to land. The sun is very bright so everyone has their windows closed but Joe can't wait to see land and get out of this madhouse. Joe looks over at Howard and he is just smiling eerily. It almost looks like he's been drugged. \n\nJoe hears gasping as people are let off the plane. The plastic smile of the staff does not soothe him.\n\nAs he steps out into the sunlight and sees the strange foliage, buildings and beings around him, he is greeted with one thought: \"this is not fucking Toronto.\"\n\nEdit: fixed change from 3rd to 1st person", "The PA system crackled, muffled murmuring could be heard from the cockpit. Then finally a Griff vice came on \"passengers, this isn't your captain speaking.\"\n\n\"Surely you must be joking!\" A passenger in first class near the cockpit proclaimed.\n\n\"This is your co-pilot, don't call me Shirley. We're going to be landing in fifteen minutes. Please return to your seats.\"\n\n...sorry y'all, couldn't resist.", "Brandon woke to a sudden pressure on his stomach. A familiar sensation he had learned the joys of during the past couple of years. He raised his head groggily, his daughter Claire smiling down at him.\n\n“Dad! It’s time to wake up! Your flight leaves in a couple of hours and I made breakfast for you!”\n\nBrandon smiled. His daughter, Claire, was five years old. The day she came into the world was the happiest day of his life. Today, however, was Brandon’s 29th birthday. \n\nBrandon made his way downstairs to the kitchen. His wife Rosa was outside on the patio. More than likely on an important international business call. He sat down at the table, admiring the spread of eggs, bacon, and pancakes.\n\n“Do you like it? Is it good?!” Claire exclaimed, climbing onto the chair next to Brandon. She placed her elbows on the table, her tiny hands on her round chin and smiled so hard her eyes closed.\n\n“Thank you, hon. It looks fantastic.”\n\nJust then Rosa walked in through the sliding glass door.\n\n“Morning sleepyhead. Happy birthday.” Rosa’s heels clicked on the ground as she made her way toward Brandon. She kissed him on the lips.\n\n“Eww! It’s too early for that!” Claire said as she stuck out her tongue.\n\nRosa and Brandon grinned. Brandon began eating his breakfast, knowing his life was the best it had ever been. A smart, beautiful wife that grew more successful by the day. A brilliant young daughter that seemed to get the best traits from each parent. A new job after having lost his six months ago. A new job that paid almost twice his old job, full benefits, and two weeks vacation time each year. His life was perfect.\n\n“Listen honey when I leave I’ll take Claire to my mom’s. When did you say your flight leaves?” Rosa began gathering her things.\n\n“At eleven. I’ll be at the airport by nine and be in Miami by one. I’ll call you when I get situated at the hotel.” Brandon said, shoving half a pancake into his mouth.\n\n“Claire say bye to daddy.” Rosa ushered Claire toward her father.\n\n“Bye dad I love you happy birthday when you get home we’re going to have to play outside in my castle you promised me we would play this weekend!” Claire let out in a matter of seconds.\n\n“Okay honey as soon as I get back we’ll play in your castle. I promise.” Brandon kissed his daughter on the forehead.\n\n“I love you, Brandon. I’m happy for you.” Rosa said, jacket on her arm. She took Claire’s precious little hand in the other.\n\n“I love you, too. Don’t have too much fun while I’m away!” Brandon said as he watched his wife and daughter head toward the door and then out of it. \n\nAs the door closed he felt a touch of sadness. A new job. New opportunities to further his career. But all he could think about is wanting to spend more time with his amazing family. Brandon finished breakfast and went through the usual pre-traveling routine.\n\nBrandon arrived at the airport at 9:03am. Atlanta was surprisingly cold this time of year. He knew there was a winter storm rolling in later today but didn’t expect it to be this cold so fast. Judging by what the others were wearing around him, nobody did.\n\nBy the time Brandon got through bag check, security, and to his plane the time was 10:15am. Much to his delight, the plane had already begun seating. Brandon made his way to his coach seat and sat down. \n\nThe flight took off on-time, getting off the runway at 11:10am. As soon as the plane had reached peak altitude and the seat belt sign was off Brandon closed his eyes.\n\nBrandon awoke to a strange feeling. His body was warm. Unusual for him as he was usually slightly cold during flights. He felt a pressure on his stomach. He opened his eyes but could barely see. Everything was blurry. He heard the intercom chime.\n\n“Passengers, this isn’t your captain speaking.” The voice was familiar. \n\nBrandon waited for the intercom to deliver more of the message but no more sound emerged. His vision was clearing up. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to accelerate the recovery. What he saw only confused him.\n\nThere was nobody in the plane. Well, not nobody, but surely they were not people. Brandon looked around. All of the passengers were now what looked like amorphous clouds of yellow. They were shifting in all directions but not moving from their individual spots. Like they were floating in water.\n\nBrandon got up from his seat and began to explore the cabin. Where the windows were supposed to be was blurry. He couldn’t see through the windows at all. He dared not get any closer to them, as he wasn’t sure about what kind of danger the yellow clouds presented.\n\nThe intercom chimed again.\n\n“Passengers please…” The intercom cut out. He recognized that the voice was female. Still familiar, but he could still not place it. All he knew was that it made him feel easy.\n\nBrandon made his way to the cockpit, thinking an answer to what the hell was going on was inside. A instinct of sorts. Before he got to the door the intercom chimed once more.\n\n“Passengers should be sure they are prepared to experience what is on the other side of the cockpit should they choose to open the door.”\n\nA different voice. A much less pleasant voice this time.\n\n“Should a passenger open the door they must be willing to accept what they find. There will be no opportunity to change your mind.”\n\nThe voice was ominous. Unfriendly. What happened the the female voice that gave him comfort?\n\nBrandon hesitated to open the door. Looking back into the cabin, he noticed some of the clouds had disappeared. Some had turned different colors. One of the clouds began to swell, growing larger and larger until it burst. Nothing came from the explosion. Nothing physical, anyway. Three seconds after the explosion Brandon heard a blood-curdling scream. \n\nBefore Brandon had a chance to act several more of the clouds expanded, exploded, and eventually delivered their eerie cargo on Brandon’s ears. More screams. Each unique. Each as terrifying as the last.\n \nBrandon happened to look at his seat, now realizing that there was a cloud in his chair. The cloud was red. Slightly expanded. This observation did not comfort him. He turned back toward the door to the cockpit, staring at it briefly before the intercom chimed.\n\n“Passengers please remember...” followed by buzzing and a crack. The familiar female voice was back and somehow gave Brandon the encouragement he needed to press on.\n\nThe door looked taller and wider now. It seemed to loom over him as if about to fall on top of him. He reached a hand out. As his hand touched the door he felt a sudden ease. A comfort he had experienced recently. Behind him he heard new screams of terror. Without looking back he opened the door. \n\nInside the cabin wasn’t the cockpit, but a white room. He looked behind him only to realize the door was gone. He was alone in this room. Looking around he saw nothing but white. He felt happy.\n\n“Hey there stranger...” The female voice spoke to him again. It was different now but still familiar.\n \nBrandon looked up. The ceiling presented him with a face. A new face, but a face he knew very well. It was his daughter.\n\nBrandon’s eyes slowly opened. He didn’t know where he was. The last thing he remembered was getting on an airplane and going to sleep. He turned his head to the left. The familiar curls of Rosa’s hair greeted him. What happened to him?\n\nTurning his head to the right he saw similar hair, but knew right away he didn’t recognize who it belonged to. He tried to sit up. His body felt heavy. Feeling movement from the bed, Rosa stirred. She looked up and realized Brandon was awake. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes welled with tears. She put her arms around his neck, hugging him with all of her strength.\n\nJust then the person on the other side of the bed woke, hearing Rosa’s movement. Her head raised and her eyes made contact with Brandon’s through Rosa’s hair. It was Claire. But she wasn’t five anymore. She looked older.\n \n“Dad?” The girl managed to get out. \n\nIt was Claire. He knew in his heart and soul it was her. Rosa pulled back, looked at Claire, and held an arm out to her. Claire came into the hug, all three of them now crying.\n\n“What…what the hell happened?” Brandon managed to get out of his dry throat.\n\n“You…you’ve been in a coma for… ten…ten years. The plane...the storm came in and took the...took the plane down. There weren't many...survivors. You...were one of the few...The doctors… recently said that you…you wouldn’t make it out.” Rosa said, in between sobs.\n\nBrandon turned to Claire.\n\n“Hey there stranger…” Claire said.\n\nAnd suddenly he realized who the voice belonged to. It was her. The voice in the dream…or whatever the hell it had been. The voice was Claire. She had woken him from his coma. Saved him from death.\n", "\"Passengers this is not your Captain speaking.\" Came the voice over the PA. Immediately there was a murmur among the people sitting in the 737. \n\n\"I will be flying this plane for the remainder. My name is not important. All that is is that everyone remain calm and stay seated. Also at this time I demand that you all put your seat backs in the up right position as well as your tray tables.\"\n\nEveryone did so. \"He'll probably send someone back here to check.\" A middle aged businessman in a blue suit said to his neighbor, a young woman returning from college. \"He doesn't want us hiding our hands under the tables. It's best to do as he says.\"\n\nThe man was clearly more worried the the young woman. \n\n\"I mean I guess but...\"\n\n\"But nothing,\" The man replied. This is a life or death situation. We can't argue with this madman.\" \n\n\"But he's...\"\n\n\"Insane yes!\" The man continued.\n\nHis hysterics were starting to alarm some of the other passengers who began worrying. Phones starting coming out of purses and pockets as people wanted desperately to contact their loved ones.\n\nThe voice on the PA came alive again. \"Also please shut off all electronic devices as we are beginning our descent to the nearest airport.\"\n\n\"Oh man.\" The businessman panicked. \"Now we can't even call for help.\"\n\n\"I mean if you needed to make a call you still technically could.\" The young woman explained. \n\n\"Are you crazy?! And jeopardize our landing! I'd rather land with a madman flying than not land at all.\"\n\n\"Yeah about that...\" \n\nMeanwhile in the cockpit\n\n\"You know what the worst part is?\" The Captain asked his First Officer who was getting ready to make one final announcement. \n\n\"What?\" The FO asked still trying to get serious before he clicked PA.\n\n\"There's definitely that one guy who thinks he has a grasp on what's happening and panicking like a kid. And he actually believes the whole \"phones interfere with the approach\" BS.\"\n\n\"I know right?\" the FO replied. \"Oh, speaking of, I should probably switch this from 'The Amazing Brick' to the approach plate,\" The FO exited his game on his iPad and switched to ForeFlight and brought up the ILS 04R. \"It goes to show how little people know about aviation. Almost insulting that not once did someone think: 'Maybe it's the copilot.'\" \n\nBack in the Cabin\n\n\"Oh.\" The businessman said. \"But, why would the copilot not just say who he is?\"\n\nThe college girl shrugged. \"Sick joke? Pilots are literally kids with big toys,\"\n\nBack in the Cockpit\n\n\"Ladies and gentleman, this is your First Officer again we will be landing shortly in JFK Airport in about 8 minutes. Local time is 7:32 PM and temperature outside is a brisk 35. Thank you for flying and for anyone from New York, welcome home.\"\n\nThe Captain laughed one more time. \"I swear the things people believe when you say \"this isn't your Captain speaking.\"\n\n\n\n\n", "It was a normal flight, it was almost fully booked, there were only a few seats in the back left open. On Jim's left was a rather odd older lady. She had a dress on with purple flowers on a teal background, which he thought was quite amusing. On his right was a man in a black suit, which was perfectly normal for people on a flight from Kuala to Bejing, he was probably on a business trip. Jim didn't have a window seat, and the movie playing on the video screen was something about werewolves, vampires, and love. Jim despised love and all those who could feel the warm embrace of it so, naturally, he press the off button and snoozed off.\n\nIt was a rather uneventful and routine flight; for a while, that is.\n\n The captain came on the speaker about an hour into the flight, waking Jim startled from a peaceful nap. \n\"We are approaching some minor turbulence ahead, please buckle your seat belts and stay calm.\" Jim had only been on a plane twice, once when he was a kid going to Disney World, and once going back to Malaysia a few weeks before the current date. So turbulence was a foreign concept to him.\n\nJim had, of course, heard of turbulence but he had never imagined it to be as dangerous as this. He didn't even know what turbulence was, exactly, he just knew it happened on planes sometimes.\n\nThe plane started shaking and everything went dark. It felt as if the plane was suspended in mid-air. There were no lights on and the only sound was of screaming passengers. Luckily the speakers were still working. As soon as everyone heard the beep that indicated he would be speaking you could hear a pen drop.\n\n\"Hello everyone, we ask that you remain calm for the time being. This flight has been temporarily stopped for reasons we cannot say. All I am allowed to tell you is that you have a person on board who can get you out of this. They have a trait or characteristic that the rest of you do not. This trait is obvious when you look for it. You have one hour.\" Another beep indicates the message is over. Everyone sits silently for a minute until another beep is heard again.\n\n\"Flight MH370, again, you have one hour. This is not your captain speaking\"\n\nThat was the last we heard.\n\n\n--------\n\nSorry if this was bad writing, I am very open to suggestions to improve. Thanks!\n\nThanks for the upvotes guys. Its nice to know someone took the time out of their day to read something I wrote, no matter the number of people especially since I am 13. It really makes me happy and makes me want to write more. \n\nI just made an edit to the 1st paragraph to transition more smoothly to the 2nd. I'm looking for feedback on this specifically, thanks!" ]	6
	[WP] The world heats up. Lands covered by ice for thousands of years are becoming accessible again. A long buried secret that would change the course of our future is about to be discovered...	[ "\"A pleasure to meet you again, Mr James Baker.\" I shook hands with him once more for the first time in years. \n\nHe had stayed pretty much the same. Weathered skin spoke of the years of tedious work he had been through, yet those eyes were still glistening in the wake of new age of hope. Silver spectacles sat uncomfortably on the beak of his nose. A sweater wrapped loosely around his body, along with a pair of jet black trousers.\n\nWhich didn't make much sense. It was burning beyond a few degrees where we were. \n\n\"The faculty had been busy\" He began and I found myself nodding slightly. \n\nWe had always acknowledged the assessment of global warming as being a huge factor in nodding the Earth's state towards such urgency but the rapid rise had been a phenomenon beyond our comprehensible theories. \n\nIt was only two years ago when we first uncovered a glacier and found the carcass of a human on our expeditions. This carcass was fresh out of the matress. Problem was, skeletal structure and flesh composition said otherwise. At a height of around 2.9 meters with bones jutting out through the pelvis, we had came to a conclusion.\n\n\"He's not anything from our year. Or century.\" Hooper had told me.\nI found myself travelling to the other side of the world in a desperate search for any form of inter-connection, which brought me to Greenland. \n\nTurns out, this was a global thing. \n\nPeople there sit through the bars, hunched over with drooping eyes and curled chapped lips, howling and swearing on their mamas that they witnessed giants, roaming the forests and lands. They were fucked up. Some were crying as they told me. The thing was, this wouldn't have been so bad, but the giants spoke. \n\n\"Told me there was an army coming. Told me I was going to die.\" \nThis brought me back to the heart of the Antarctic, where we began discovering more carcasses. Bringing them back was a mistake. \nOn July 5 2019, the world shook when national TV disclosed of one of our colleague's deaths. His body was left slumped over in the Antarctic Unov Center #3. His head was found in China. He left a pretty grisly message too - \"This is the revelation\"\n\nPeople began sending me emails. They weren't hate - surprisingly enough. They were mainly religious texts. Telling me that this shit was caused by the wrath of their various Gods. I wouldn't have taken it seriously, but then I wouldn't be here would I? It was actually a meek little man by the name of Samuel from Austria who caught my attention. He referred me to the Holy Bible's Book Of Revelations, and jabbed his fingers at the latest articles.\n\nBy then, we had classified these giants as Ruoyers. Ruoyers had began spreading across the world like an infection. They did not harm anyone-nothing close, but people who saw them spoke of unending fear and terror. Their eyes were ablaze with turmoil and that was all I needed. Several governments tried their hand at military takeovers, but soldiers would never fire at command when needed. A nuclear solution was out of the question. \n\n\"When you think about it, would it really be pushing to say this was of some form of intervention?\" Mr Baker's voice shook me out of my trance. \n\n\"I'm sorry?\" \n\n\"I've always been a cynical man, but this may speak of something more defining. Beyond our understanding of the laws of human nature.\" \n\nI thought carefully about what I should say. \n\n\"I suppose religious texts wise-\"\n\n\"You haven't heard?\" He called. \n\n\"What?\" \n\nHis eyes looked at me in patient enthusiasm. \n\n\"Two days ago, we uncovered a slit among the Antarctic. Just like you.\" \n\n\"More carcasses?\" \n\n\"No. We discovered molten rocks flowing through the cracks. Lava flowing out of ice.\" \n\nMy head tilted towards the sky. A sense of foreboding worry had arrived and I felt no obligation to continue retorting. \n\n\"The lake of fire, that's what they're calling it now.\" He continued. \"And that's not all. We can stop calling these giants \"Ruoyers\". The public have given a new name for them - Horsemen.\"\n\nMy lips uncovered a tiny gap for me to heave a shuddering breath.\n\nHe didn't stop.\n\n\"Revelations...\" He murmured. \"For when the time comes, he will return. \nBut this time, to sort out the bad and the good.\" \n\n--\n\nJune 6 2024\n\nA man went through shocking phenomenal acts when he began \nlevitating in front of nation-wide television. People had began reportedly following him, claiming of him to be the second coming.\n\n--\n\n\"He-he touched me! I couldn't see - I couldn't fucking see and now I can! He's not human!\"\n\nThe man remains undiscovered with his origins unknown. The FBI have launched a worldwide man hunt following suspected crimes against humanity. A clearly controversial order, he was last sighted at Wuhan Province, China, calling for all sick and needy to come to him.\n", "We'd been so arrogant thinking we understood the world. Even in our acceptance of our arrogance we were argent. Sure we'd pumped so much carbon dioxide into the atmosphere that the world was basically going to turn into a sauna, but we knew what the solution was now. Now we could solve everything. It looked like it was going to work for a while too. We pumped enough reflective material into the upper atmosphere to cool down the world. To reverse the effects of the greenhouse gasses our we'd put up there in the first place and bring global temperatures back to pre-industrial levels. Grand speeches were made about the triumph of the human condition. We'd done something good by golly. The warming started the next year. No one could explain it. We'd managed to make global temperatures level out. The slope had already been creating but our climate intervention had pushed it the last little bit onto the very cosp of the green. Then suddenly and without warning the temperature started to ratchet up again. It wasn't anything an individual could notice. A few warmer summers here. A milder winter there, but the rather extensive set of climate monitoring tools humanity had amassed was quite clear. It had been the warmest year on record. No one made too big of a deal out of it at first. The head of the Project came out and made some speech about how this didn't really mean the Project wasn't working, but in the back rooms and lounges of universities across the world people were nervous. Nobody understood why the world had warmed. Climatology was an averages game we acknowledged as we stayed the course. The next year was warmer still. More significantly the increase was faster than any other on record. Still we did not understand what could be causing this, but we increased our work on the Project spewing more and more reflective particles. Trying desperately to cool the earth down. We failed. We failed disastrously. In the next three years the temperature would increase by three degrees on average across the globe. A small difference in theory, a small number on paper, but more than enough to flood New York, Tokyo, London, Hong Kong. We'd been so arrogant.\n\nI had plenty of time to think all this as I flew towards my next assignment. Toward green land and what I would find there. Much of the ice cap had melted leaving thousands of kilometers of new ground. We hadn't expected to find anything under there. Arrogance such arrogance. At first we hadn't even looked. Why look at what amounted to a slag heap, a plate scrapped so clean that nothing could possibly survive. The first ruien had taken the scientific community by surprise. For a start it hadn't been found by a scientist instead by a bunch of tourists. Backpackers really intent on going down in the history books as the first to the new Greenland, the melted Greenland. As they told the story they'd come over a rise one day to see... a house. A single solitary house or at least something very much like a house. It had a roof, three windows in the front, and something that could only be thought of as a door. It was also in mint condition. They thought it was some kind of prank they told the reporters. Or maybe just a rich hermit. It was only as they walked towards it that they noticed the shimmer. It surrounded the house. A globe of shimmering light forming a perfect half sphere over the house. When they'd reached it they found it was hard. Like impossibly slippery glass. Since that time we've found twelve other such houses, over thirteen smaller artifacts, and just this morning something new: a city. So we'd been dispatched it wasn't even particularly exciting anymore. Even the media had mostly lost interest in us. It was a mystery and there was plenty of reality to go around.\n\nAs the plane swept around the designating landing site I couldn't help but stare out the window at the \"artifact.\" It was huge. Way bigger than I'd been ready to invision. At least the size of my home town of 12,180. Row after row of the strange \"houses\" and acres of park land. It even had what could only be called a downtain. A collection of slightly taller flat roofed buildings near the middle of town. These were made by something human, I thought to myself, not for the first time as we trundled out our various equipment. Geiger counters, spermatophores, radars, lidars, and things I couldn't name. Tools to probe, tools to excite, tools to record. We all walked up to the shield. Sitting still and clear as it always did in a perfect sphere. I reached up to place my hand on it. This was by the far the largest we had ever seen. Our new too this time was a small particle accelerator. No good for most science but we hoped to be able to pry even a small amount of the material, whatever it was up and away so we could get any kind of hint as to its composition. Most of us were starting to suspect a non-physical arrangement (some kind of force field), but we hopped even then to be able to tease something about it composition out of the clear, unrevealing stuff. Liz setup the instrument. Angling it so the beam was 45 degrees off the plane, what we'd decide would be be the ideal calibration test. Liz reached down for the button, leaning up against the unyielding wall of clear air. As her fingers brushed the switch, the air yielded. All at once and without a sound. I scrambled to turn off the beam thinking it had somehow destroyed the field. Why it would have when everything up to and including a nuke detonated directly below the field had failed did not know, but well the evidence was right there. It was only as I looked closer that I realized the beam was still off. She hadn't pushed it. Some will tell you we found Atlantis in there that day. I'm here to tell you that isn't so. Possibly the cities were part of the inspiration of Atlantis, but certainly not the whole story. Still I can't really explain what we found: rooms full of books, in a writing we still can't decipher, houses filled with the trappings of life, but no life, strange trinkets and charms arranged in geometric patterns. We didn't have the equipment to stay the night, so we were forced to leave to come back the following day. When we got back the shield was back. Since that day our team has been unable to make any more sense of any of it. Personally I'm beginning to think it's yet more arrogance to try." ]	2
	[Wp] humanity leaves earth for some thousand years, only to find a alien species have colonized earth in our absence.	[ "\"Command we're picking something up on radar...you're not going to believe this\"\n\nThe voice over the intercom sounded as if they had just seen a ghost. \n\n\"What is it?\" Captain Flynn Marsdon shot back through the intercom. Admittedly after being in stasis for close to 900 years getting into the swing of things was proving a bit difficult and everyone was more on edge than normal. With most of the passengers still asleep they were tasked with first contact. Essentially it was him and the flight decks job to have the landing and subsequent re-integration program go as smoothly as possible. After leaving earth those many centuries ago they were fast approaching their planned arrival point. Flynn knew that this wasn't going to be without its hiccups but he couldn't help but reminisce about what brought them to this point in the first place.\n\nThe runaway CO2 crept up on humanity faster than their climatologists predicted and every conceivable plan that was put in place to prevent it had failed. It always seems to go back to that old adage of, too little – too late.\n\nFirst was HYDRA. A joint venture between the Chinese and Russian governments to cover large swathes of the ocean floor in Hydroelectric Turbines. The logic was sound at first. The rising heat within the ocean needed to be cooled to a more sustainable level so they had the bright idea of placing these turbines along the naturally occurring tidal jetstreams. The tide would provide the power and said power would be sent to an outer coating consisting of Liquid Oxygen and Hydrogen. Some say they drew inspiration from early 21st century Apollo space shuttle engine designs but it's not like they would ever admit to it. Even during those tough times the tension between them and the United North Americas was far too great and pride usually took the front seat in any and all political dealings.\n\nThe turbines operated for around 30 years but the rate of heating was moving far to quickly for them to keep up. A UN meeting and preliminary review of the program was called in the summer of 2364. All signs pointed that the turbines were having little impact on the situation so they called for every nation to pool resources, whether they liked it or not.\n\nThe UNA had been working on designs for a atmosphere cleanup program at the time and most of the funding was tunnelled into their designs. The plan called for a network of low-earth orbit satellites that would sweep over the atmosphere separating the carbon from the oxygen and expelling the excess into space. Of course this had its own difficulties and the plan managed to never get off the ground. The metals they were harvesting from the moon weren't being extracted at a quick enough pace and after the Space Elevator disaster of 2396 all hope was lost. One of the main scaffolding cables came loose and it caused a disaster humanity had never seen before. A cascade of wires and metal came crashing down and plummeted towards the earth destroying what once was the west coast of the old US of A. The failsafes that were put in place did not activate and later on it was discovered that they were manually shut off. Tensions rose between the nations on who to blame but the culprit was never brought to justice. Some say it was the act of a rogue linesman operating independently but the finger pointing that ensued nearly sparked another World War. It's sort of funny that even in man's darkest hour they'd still find a reason to attack one another.\n\nOne last ditch effort remained and the time had come to put it in action. \nThe technological undertaking that ensued would go on to dwarf all the known wonders of the world combined. \n\nThe Ark\n\nto be continued", "\"Look, I'm not saying you have to move out or anything. I'm trying to find a good compromise. I mean, we really appreciate all the terraforming you've done in our absence what with making the whole place livable again. It's just that we detected a catastrophe approaching and left for a little while. Then, our computers glitched and we were all in stasis for a little longer than planned.\"\n\n\"Now imagine after going on vacation and returning to your home, you open your front door only to find out that animals you had previously considered pests and vermin have moved into your home?\"\n\nThe captain stopped speaking to the leader of the evolved cockroach republic when the lights and systems on the immense last refuge of humanity all blinked at the same time. \n\nAn even larger vessel suddenly appeared, dwarfing the huge human construct.\n\n\"Funny you should say that...,\" came the low baritone voice transmitted from the ancient dinosaur vessel. " ]	2
	[WP] For generations, your family has carried an heirloom. It teleports you to the person that needs you the most at that moment, and can only be invoked once. Helping that person is your families right of passage into adulthood.	[ "\"It's your turn now\" Dans father said as he handed him the pocket watch, like many before him he took it and shoved it in his pocket. He went to go Reddit on his phone when he noticed the hands on the watch spin rapidly in all directions. \"AHH FUCK!\" He yelled as he noticed he was near a cliff and a man was right in front of him with a gun, \"Well well well\" Dante said, gun to dans head. \"Your entire legacy is of thieves\", \"I figure I might as well end it\" he said pulling the trigger.", "\"You know I can't tell you,\" he answers, annoyingly. \n\nWhy won't anyone tell me what it's like, and who they saved? All my life I've been waiting for one chance, the opportunity to make something of myself, to earn the respect of my family. Others younger than me have already gone through this, why must I wait? Will I forever be an outsider looking in?\n\nAnd then it triggers. I'm standing atop a suspension bridge across a wide chasm, maybe two hundred feet long. I look down--they always say not to look down, but you always look down--and thousands of feet below the open air finally gives way to solid ground. There's a river or creek running down there, but the dimensions are all lost to me, so high up. My head is spinning and it feels as if the winds are about to knock me the ground. I grip the rope on the suspension bridge as tightly as possible and try to steady myself against the winds, but the bridge itself begins rocking ever so slowly, then more quickly. I look to the cliffs on either end, and across the bridge, to gauge distance and determine the swaying of the bridge, but I can't. It's all a blur, and it feels as if the bridge is moving hundreds of feet a second. I think I'm hyperventilating.\n\nI am acrophobic. \n\nI suspect it chooses everyone's fears, and this is why nobody would speak to me. I'm knelt down on the bridge as it swings violently from side to side, and I'm gripping the rope as tightly as I can. I slowly begin to crawl along the bridge to the nearest side, all the while looking around for visual cues and trembling in fear of the inevitable fall. I don't see anyone else on the bridge for me to rescue, but I'm in no position to help anyone at this point anyway.\n\nSlowly and steadily, I make my way to the side. I go prone and slide onto the ground, then crawl a few feet before allowing myself to turn over and assess the situation. I look around, and I can't see anyone. I look across the bridge--it is barely moving at all--and I don't see anyone on the other side. I work up the courage to fight my greatest fear and crawl to the cliff's edge and peek over, but I see nobody below, either. Though everything inside of me says to retreat to the woods, to pull back away from the cliff, I walk alongside the edge calling out for whomever might need my help, but I can't see anybody. \n\nNow I realize who it was I was supposed to help. Upon this revelation, I hear the voice speak. \"This is not your destination,\" it says, \"but the first of many steps.\"", "\"It must be such an honor,\" my girlfriend whines, resting her head against my thigh. She huffs and the exhale sends her bangs flying across my leg. I can't help but snicker at the sensation, which has her scowling at me. \"What are you laughing at, freak?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" I shrug and can instantly tell that she's put off by my response, so I try again, \"Baby, I'm sorry. Anything I can do to make it better?\" I reach down to rub her head and give her a kiss, and she relaxes into the rehearsed gesture of affection. The words sound hollow to me, but they tide her over.\n\nShe stretches. \"It's just... It must be so nice, to get to do something for someone like that.\" She reaches for my waistband, then tucks her fingers into my belt loop where a small bronze key-chain hangs-- a subtle but priceless heirloom. It's been in the family for generations, and while it isn't particularly pretty and doesn't look to cost much, it's worth the world, and it has quite the weight too: the weight of someone's life. \n\nIt's not a burden everyone can handle, especially because while the trinket can make sure you're there to help, it can't guarantee that you'll be able to. And if you can't...\n\n\"It's not that great,\" I reply, and regret it immediately. I don't want to start another fight. I'm so tired of it, of her, but she's way out of my league (as she keeps reminding me). At 5'6 and 213 pounds, with a haircut that won't grow out past middle school awkwardness, and a face that suffers the same affliction, I'm lucky to have anyone at all. She's a bitch, but a bombshell. \n\n\"You've got to be kidding,\" she snaps at me, rolling her eyes. \n\nI could say that I am, but even she wouldn't fall for that, so I settle on another apology. She sulks for a while, but then her eyes light up and she turns her face up at me. \"Are you really sorry?\" she purrs, batting her thick eyelashes.\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Do it.\" Her eyes are glowing. \"Answer your call.\"\n\nMy blood runs cold, and I think about the stories. It's dangerous. My brother ended up in Iraq, taking a bullet for a man who was soon to be a father. My mother was stranded in Palestine, never made it back. And Grandfather... he lived, made it through completely unscathed, but his person didn't, and we've been the disgrace of the family ever since. I'm not sure what I could do if it comes down to danger-- I'd be a damn good meat shield, but fuck, I don't want to die.\n\n\"Don't you love me?\" she presses, batting her stupid thick eyelashes. When her charm doesn't work, she gets vicious. \"Maybe you'll actually be worth a shit if you do this.\"\n\nI don't have the balls to carry on the family name. But I also don't have the balls to say no to her, so before I know it my hands are locked around the key-chain and suddenly there's golden light and pressure like I'm being flattened into the ground.\n\nWhen the light clears, I find myself in the same damn spot, with her staring at me. We blink at each other, then she squeals. \"This is so romantic. I'm the person who needs you most? Wow.\"\n\nBut the whole time, I'm thinking to myself, fuck. Fuck, I messed up big time. Grandpa couldn't save his person, but I can't even find mine. Because there's no way in hell that she needs me. She doesn't even want me.\n\nBut then it hits me, and I feel sick and giddy at the same time. There's no way I could help someone else if I can't even help myself. It's sad that it took a supernatural trinket to make me realize, but I need to make some changes in my life.\n\nIt's absolutely worth the slap to see the look on her face when I dump her.\n\n\n\n\n", "“Are you sure you’re ready Robert? You’ve got two more years until you turn eighteen. You don’t have to do this now.” My father tells me. They’ve prepared the ceremony. The golden bracelet has been placed on a pedestal, and all of my blood relatives are kneeling around it. There are candles lit in the dark inner room, and everything is quite except for me and my father.\n\n“Yes, the thing is calling to me. I know somewhere out there is a person in great pain, and it is my duty to relieve them of this burden.” I tell my father. He nods.\n\n“It has been known to happen from time to time. Your mother was similarly called. I wish we had more time to complete your training, but the bracelet has yet to steer us wrong.” He lays his hands on my hand and murmurs a blessing.\n\n“Go now son, you will be on our hearts and minds until you return.”\n\n“Thank you father.” I say, and approach the pedestal. My brothers and sisters track me with their eyes as I approach, silently anticipating my next action. My extensive preparation for this event is evident in my outfit. I have a rope slung across my chest like a bandoleer, a survival jacket that can double as a tent, a fire starter, two days of rations, several knives, and all weather clothing. I am prepared for anything.\n\nI stretch out my hand over the bracelet and pause, looking to my mother for the final words of the ceremony.\n\n“Come back with your shield or on it.” She tells me.\n\n“Yes mother.” I respond, and grasp the bracelet.\n\nThe light of the sun at noon is almost blinding after the dark room I’ve just come from and I have to shut my eyes. I feel something hard and artificial beneath my feet, probably concrete, maybe asphalt. There’s a strong breeze. I’m glad for my survival jacket. I hear nothing nearby, but there is the distant sound of traffic.\n\nI feel my eyes have adjusted, and I open them just a crack to take in my surroundings. I know the first person I see is the one I must help.\n\nI am on the top of a tall building, at least ten stories up from what little I can see. I’m the middle of a city, and on the edge of the building is a man, standing on his tip toes, and looking down in a very fatalistic manner.\n\nI don’t have time to let my eyes finish adjusting. I act on instinct and run towards the man. Should I yell something? Would that frighten him? I don’t have time to think on it further, I can see him start to lean forward through the thin slit of my vision, and I lunge just in time to wrap one arm around his chest, and fall backwards, pulling him back onto the rooftop. We crash onto the concrete rooftop together.\n\n“Stop it!” He yells, and tries to scramble up. I wrap my legs around him and grab onto his back so he can’t get up.\n\n“Let me go!” He shouts again. He’s not giving up. He’s determined. I do the only thing I’ve been taught to do to suppress someone acting out of control, I put him in a chokehold. He gargles out several words that I can’t understand, and then he goes limp.\n\nI count to two and the release the chokehold. He tales a few seconds, but then he comes around.\n\n“Ow.” Is the first thing he says. Waking up from a chokehold hurts.\n\n“Where am I?” Is the second. He’s dazed and confused.\n\n“You’re alive brother. We will figure out the rest later.\"\n\nEdit: hey, just saw this is another Inteli_Gent post, nice to see you work again friend.\n\nEdit 2- story continued.\n“No seriously, where are we.” The jumper asks me.\n\n“I have no idea friend, you’ll really have to tell me later. Here, let’s go find someplace we can talk.” I suggest. He nods, observing his surroundings in a way befitting a man who’s just woken up from a nap. We find a stairwell and make our way down 12 stories to the street.\n\nHe’s understandably silent as he first wakes up, and then realizes what has transpired. I can tell he has realized what happened when he reaches the street and stops abruptly, staring at the spot on the roof he had occupied a minute ago.\n\nI gently steer him towards a nearby park where we find a bench. It’s hard to find something to say. This was not what I had anticipated. My family told stories of leading groups of plane crash survivors through rain forests to safety, chopping snakes with machetes by night, and hunting for food during the day. Playing therapist was not something I had anticipated, or felt remotely qualified to do.\n\n“So, how are you feeling?” I ask.\n\n“Shocked I guess.” The jumper says. “The moment’s passed but I’m realizing what happened, or what almost happened.”\n\n“Does that mean you’re feeling more….” I couldn’t find a gentle way to say more likely to stay alive.\n\n“Not really.” He says. “I don’t have energy to try again, but I don’t really feel that different from before.” I had my work cut out for me. Well, the bracelet did take you to whoever needed you most, so it wasn’t like I was going to be handed something easy. I still couldn’t think of anything to say, so I went practical.\n\n“Have you figured out where we are yet? I’m not from around here.” I tell him. He nods.\n\n“Yeah, I figured it out once we hit the street.” That was something, at least we weren’t lost. I almost wish we were though. A little survival instinct could spice things up. Not that being lost in a city where there was food, water, and shelter on every corner ever gave you much of a survival instinct buzz, but at least it would be something.\n\nShould I take him home? No, there was a good chance his home life was part of the problem. It was hard to tell with the bags under his eyes, and his depressed demeanor, but he looked to be about my age.\n\nIt had been too long since I had said something, but I still couldn’t figure out what to say.\n\n“Let’s go for a walk.” I suggested, and stood up to lead by example. It wasn’t much, but walks usually made me feel better, maybe they would help him. He stands up to follow me wordlessly. I pick a random direction and start walking.\n\n“You know this isn’t a good part of town.” He tells me. “It’s why I came here, figured people here would be used to dealing with the aftermath of well, you know.” He was giving some thought to his fellow man. That was something.\n\nIt was very frustrating being unable to find a way out of this situation. If I had to keep warm with just my body heat in the arctic, or swim twenty miles through shark infested waters I would have felt more comfortable. If the bracelet didn’t have an impeccable record for millennia I would’ve thought it was broken. How was a survivalist and a martial artist supposed to help a depressed man. The jumper certainly wasn’t volunteering any information.\n\nThere’s a loud crashing sound from an alley we’re walking by, and I drop to a crouch while drawing a knife. Halfway through the action I realize how silly it is to be drawing a knife in the middle of a city in broad daylight. What possible danger could there be?\n\nIt was good that I did, down the alley we can see three large men kicking a smaller man who’s in the fetal position with both hands over his head. The downed man is visibly bleeding, and the three large men aren’t stopping.\n\nHaving already drawn my weapon, my combat brain has kicked in, and I take in the situation. Two men on the far side of the downed intruder, one on the near side, confined alley, ample potential for improvised weapons among the trash that litters the place, and I have one man for support.\n\n“We’ll rush them together. You take the guy closest to us. Kick him in the knees to drop him, and then punch him in the throat to down him. If that doesn’t down him, punch him in the chest directly below his sternum.” I tap my chest to indicate the point I’m referencing. “Go.” I order, and start running, hoping he follows.\n\nMy hopes are not met. There are no footsteps behind me. Well, at least he isn’t running away. After I deal with this situation I’ll take him out for a nice lunch or something.\n\nI reach the three men and give a loud shout as I jump over the downed man while drawing a second knife. The shout is meant to make them look up, and to shock them into freezing for a half second. It accomplishes both these things, and as they look up, I strike two of them on the head with the pommels of my knives. The two men back paddle, clutching now bleeding foreheads. That’s bought me a few moments, now to see if I could completely take out the third man while the first two were recovering.\n\nI start to turn, but not before I feel someone grab on my jacket and give it a yank. I’ve been too slow. The tug sets me off balance, and I trip over the downed man, hitting the pavement next to him.\n\nI see the third thug standing over me. He raises his boot to drop on my face, but before he can finish the blow, he falls to his knees, and I see the jumper hit him in the throat. He decided to join after all!\n\nThe thug clutches at his throat while I roll to my feet, but he’s not downed, just momentarily stunned.\n\n“Him in the chest.” I call over my shoulder, and make for the two thugs who I had struck on the head.\n\nBoth are still reeling, and a few quick strikes later, both are downed. I see, much to my satisfaction, that the third thug is also incapacitated for the moment. We check the downed man, and as he has no severe injuries we use his cell phone to call 911, before heading on our way. We don’t stay around to talk. Talking to police would get messy because I’m reasonably sure our handling of the situation was not entirely legal.\n\n“That was incredible!” The jumper says. “I feel so alive!” It seemed I had found the solution to his depression.\n\n" ]	4
	[WP] You have been blessed with the ability to go back and change things you've done in your life. One day you discover an event you can't change.	[ "Thomas snapped his fingers, huddled on the back porch of the house his eyes wide with disbelief. The flames licked at the support beams of his home - he could smell the wood combusting, the sharp odour conjuring unhelpful campfire memories as he clicked his fingers, eyes watering. The collar of his coat was turned up against the wind which was feeding the gluttonous fire consuming his life. Desperately Thomas snapped his fingers, the sound coming weak and slippery from anxious digits slick with sweat. The clicks were determined and echoed over the smoldering of the fire, even over the gale of wind -- which, thankfully, was blowing the smoke away from Thomas and his mad exercise.\nIn time the clicking of his fingers was overtaken by a choked sob. He'd failed. Thomas rose on shaky legs.\nWhy hadn't he listened? \nStabilizing himself on nothing, Thomas' arm fell to his side as he swayed, catching himself before he fell and then staggering in the other direction, other arm searching anew.\nWhy? He asked himself again. He snapped his fingers uselessly, his breath coming in short gasps, breaking a fresh wave of sobbing. Why, why?\nStaggering ahead, Thomas moved away from the house. Away from his home. From his life. His breathing was choked by sobs. He knew that he'd gone too far. He felt a deep kinship in that moment with Icarus and his failed flight -- his stomach roiled and he felt that he was on that same fall. \n'Is this how it ends for me?' He thought to himself.\nThe ocean is coming. Thomas blinked and walked ahead, away from the house. Already lights were turning on down the block. Their yard and its defences were not enough to hide the light of Thomas' failure. Distantly he heard the sirens of emergency vehicles.\nThomas drew a deep breath. He walked to the front of the house, down the driveway, and turned left -- away from the sound of the sirens. He walked quickly, purposefully, leaving the scene as quickly as he could.\nThis - it turned out - was the wrong thing to do.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"--I swear, one day, you're going to kill me. Me -AND- Chimichanga. Is that what you want, dude? Like, seriously.\"\n\"Yeah, yeah.\" Thomas replied, his tone a bit snarkier than he intended. It seemed that this was all Matthew did, nowadays, was find ways to pick at him. Thomas pinched his forehead.\n\"Tom, I'm serious. You can't keep doing this. Think of the ferret.\"\n\"I know, Matt.\" Thomas replied. \nAnd he meant it, too. As Matthew had no problem reminding him, this was his second time leaving the oven after going out of the house in the morning. The idea of dying terrified Matthew - and Thomas could well understand why. Living with somebody like him was hardly confidence-inspiring: Thomas was the younger man, forgetful, and accident-prone by nature; his eyes, so often dulled to Matthew's concerns watered with sadness for his lover's eyes, themselves welled with fear.\n\n'I'm sorry.' Thomas thought, helplessly.\n\"Seriously.\" Matt said, his beautiful eyes aflame.\n'I love you.' Thomas thought, his mouth agape, head shaking.\n\"When are you going to shut up for ten seconds and listen to me when I--\"\nJust then Thomas snapped his fingers, and Matt said:\n\"--I nehw em ot netsil dna sdnoces net rof pu tuhs ot gniog uoy era nehW\"\nAnd then, Matt moved very very quickly backward out of the room, and then into it, and then out of it again. Mentally Thomas noted that he seemed to have done a lot of checking on the oven. A pang of guilt stabbed at him as he glanced at the kitchen clock which was steadily moving backwards from 9:00 PM. He sighed. Matthew was right. He -did- need to start listening more. He had to start being...a caring partner. He felt like a child - dependant on others - and not a little bit on his powers - for a secure and fulfilling life, free of any real responsibility. His chest clenched as he glanced at the clock again, which was just sliding upwards past 3:00 PM. He forced a large breath into his lungs, could feel his ribs creak against inflamed muscles. He tried to calm the panic he felt at the mere mention of 'responsibility'. He hated the very concept.\nThomas was, at his core, a very lazy man, who desired neither to praise nor to shame. His Fortress of Solitude was gilded in attempts at detachment, seclusion and neutrality. Successes shone rare in his armour among a rough of bitter failure.\nHis ability, his 'click' kept the consequences at bay. For now that would half to be enough.\n\nThomas snapped his fingers, clicking precisely as the clock in the kitchen stopped at 11:50 AM.\nThe young man felt as though he could feel the earth shift beneath him. It was subtle, but it felt as if a pull had become a push. Thomas imagined that the sensation would be similar to what he might experience if the Earth's Magnetic Poles suddenly reversed. A sharp snort from down the hall snapped Thomas from his thoughts. Good. As he'd predicted, Matthew was still asleep. Suddenly a whoosh of air whipped at Thomas' heels, making him spin toward the front door, his breath catching as he watched the door close, saw the latch spin from the outside, heard footsteps moving away from the door. Thomas exhaled. That was -him- who had just left. Okay. Great.\nThomas turned back toward the Oven, noticed that it was cranked to 300o, and calmly turned it off. He drew a deep breath, exhaled, and clicked his fingers, welcoming a bright flash of light which resolved into Matthew, standing before him with a beer and a bright smile.\n\"But anyway.\"\nMatthew said, handing Thomas a beer,\n\"How was your day?\"\nThomas cracked the beer, studying his face. No sign of the fear and anger that had been there before. He sighed.\n\"Fine.\" he answered, smiling.\nThomas hated using his powers on Matthew. But the distrust he'd seen in his lover's eyes...it had terrified him. He couldn't lose Matthew. Wouldn't.", "Break up with Monica, check.\n\nOnly 3 to go, let's see. \n\nThis is really fun. Who else in the world will ever have the ability to do THIS. It's like everything is going to go my way this time 'round.\n\nBAM\n\nOh shit. Did I just? Oh fuck, oh fuck.\n\nMan are you ok? What the hell was I doing reading while driving. \n\nHey! Um, someone help!\n\nShit man, look I'll get you to a hospital. Hey, theres an ambulance here now!\n\nIs he? What do you mean there's no pulse? You're saying I just?\n\nLook I dont know how it happened, I was driving and I just. He stepped out.\n\nNo, I wasn't texting. No sir. No.\n\nI began to concentrate really hard, on turning back time. This new-found ability just wouldnt click. I couldn't go back on this one.\n\nThey're placing me in the backseat. Its clear to them what I was doing. My list and pencil sat in my driver's seat. I only had three more to go. Now I have 4. But I won't get the chance. I'll get to think about this one for a very long time", "It's not often that anyone gets that third chance. It's also not often that someone can rewrite their own history to see the outcome of anything. Wear a blue shirt on that normally boring Wednesday morning and you'd think nothing of it; wear a black shirt and you might score with Rachel, the really hot receptionist. No one ever thinks of the little things. Speaking of which, this party is becoming rather dull, and I would’ve had a lot more fun doing probably anything else. \n\t\nClosing my eyes and ignoring the loud sucking noises coming from the couple to the right, I focused to a few hours ago when I decided to attend. Suddenly the scene around me dissolved, coupled with a feeling of getting yanked backwards, and then there I was standing alone in my house. Smiling, I turned on my heels and jogged upstairs. \n\t\n“What to do” I muttered, thoughtfully tapping the doorway into my room.\nI peered around, half-expecting something to be different aside from the whole spatial whiplash thing, only to be disappointed by monotony. \n\t\n“Guess I'll see what the bar will get me.” I was already dressed pretty sharply, probably more than a bar warranted, but when you can reverse time, nothing mattered that much. Grabbing my keys and tossing on a coat, I headed out the door.\n\t\nTwenty minutes of irritable driving later, “Remind me to not do this next time...” I remarked, chuckling as I pulled into the parking lot. It wasn't too crowded, but there was still a sizable amount of people inside. I checked my watch and looked up at the sky. Rain should be here anytime now, I thought.\n\t\nPractically on cue, the subtle pitter-patter of rain began to consume the windshield. I half-smiled and frowned, giddy at the precision but sad that it was still a downpour. Quickly I made the trek to the entrance and ducked inside. It was a large room, bar on the right, stage to the left, profuse amount of tables along with the bar-goers who sat at the them. Simple set-up for a bar, but like they say, if it works, don't change it. I took a seat and immediately the bartender asked me for my poison.\n\t\n“Whiskey, hard.” He was surprised only for a moment, but slid a glass my way shortly after.\n\t\nI took a few sips and eyed the crowd. Boring, mostly: a few drunks passed out on the side, a gathering of friends off near the stage, and of course the miscellaneous attendees who're here alone. A young woman, looked to be about my age of mid-twenties, noticed the observatory glances. Moments later, she took a seat nonchalantly to my left. \n\t\n“Hey there handsome.” She smiled curtly, eying me up and down.\n\t\n“Hey.” I wasn't in much of a talkative mood.\n\t\n“You look like you've had a shit day.” She dropped the flirtatious attitude after my dismissal.\n\t\n“Something like that. Name's Mark, yours?”\n\t\n“Kaylee. So what's got you?” The girl was direct if nothing else.\n\t\n“Party...thing. Eh, it's hard to explain, let's leave it at 'rough day'.” I noted the look of confusion on her face, but there's no conventional way to explain time travel without looking crazy.\n\t\n“I know the feeling. Don't you just wish you could just...rewind? Try things differently?”\n\t\nI gave her what had to be an incredibly stupid look before responding, “No, because shockingly, I know how that feels. Frankly, nothing is a surprise anymore.”\n\t\nAnd she was, in fact, shocked at the statement. Kaylee was silent for a moment before whispering, “You know how it feels?”\n\t\nMy countenance twisted, “Yea, no, quite literally. In an hour or two, tonight won't matter anyway.” I was questioning on whether or not I was already drunk.\n\t\nShe was beaming, as if having finally reconnected with an old friend.\n\t\nI asked, confused, “What?”\n\t\n“So I'm not the only one.” She finally stated.\n\t\nAlright, must be too drunk already, I thought. “You...what?” came a sputtering repetition. \n\t\nKaylee held a distraught expression, as if I just broke her heart. “So, wait, you can reverse time as well?” I asked quietly. Finishing my drink, I waved for another and added, “Get her whatever she wants.”\n\t\n“Yep. It's gotten real boring when you can choose any outcome.” I recanted.\n\t\n“You reverse everything you do?” She inquired, clearly disturbed by my abuse of power.\n\t\n“Not all the time, but a lot of the time I suppose, yea.” Chuckling, I took another sip and leaned on the counter.\n\t\n“I only go back to fix things that are truly broken, in my eyes.” She said.\n\t\nI made eye contact with her for the first time and fell over myself. They were a deep shade of blue, whilst seemingly dancing between hues of hazel and lime, even as a fiery underlying crimson on the borders wavered in and out. It captivated me for more than a simple moment, as those orbs stared back without blinking. I could see her face begin to glow and a bright smile form, something about which I've never seen before. A foreign feeling crept over me, to which I couldn't help but indulge in the same smile that I basked in; the moment shared seemed to stretch for an eternity.\n\t\nFinally, breaking the molded silence between us,“I won't go back if you won't.”\n", "I've lived a billion lives, seen so many more dfferent things than you ever will, but there's just one thing I wish I could change. And I've been trying for half of forever and I can never quite get it right. I have more firsthand knowledge about the principles of chaos theory than anyone else on this planet, and even I can't find a way to change this one thing.\n\nBack in my university days in my very first life, I met a wonderful girl.\n\nShe was bright, very capable, and sharp as a knife, and she was really rather cute too. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one for me; I'd never done the 'relationship' thing very well, but I knew that I had to work up the courage to try.\n\nAnd I didn't. Other stuff happened, and I fell in love with someone else, and I spent the rest of that life asking myself why I did.\n\nThen came the watch.\n\nEveryone knew that Google had been working on time travel for a long time, but no one could have predicted that the prototype would end up with me. I hadn't even ordered a time-traveling watch; I had ordered a regular one, because I had lost the previous one. Evidently, there had been some comedy of errors that ended up with an extremely dangerous equipment prototype on my doorstep.\n\nBy the time anyone noticed, I was already gone.\n\nThe first thing I observed was that the device had sent my consciousness back into my own past - so going back made me younger - but also captured and restored memories to ensure an unbroken awareness. So even though I might look seventeen, I've long since forgotten how long I've existed as myself.\n\nThe second thing I observed was that the device was really complicated, with all sorts of lights and panels and stuff. I spent several lifetimes figuring out all the things the device could do, understanding its limitations, and fixing all the bugs.\n\nThe third thing I observed was that the device had a fail-safe that would automatically and rapidly get me out of danger. This ended up being important. A lot. I won't dwell on why.\n\nThe fourth thing I observed was that the device had been built under the assumption that it wouldn't be the only one of its kind. This hasn't been important yet. I hope it never will be, but I can't count on it; the theories don't deal with events that have yet to be observed.\n \nI spent the first few lifetimes grappling with the implications of what it means to be able to change your own past. I changed a few things here and there; erased some bad decisions that had been haunting me; tuned things to try to approach an ideal life, and observed how even the smallest changes can have a profound impact later on.\n\nOn the way, I learned quite a bit. Having eternity on your hands can be quite useful that way, if you keep an open mind all the time and know how to learn.\n\nThen I discovered how to communicate with my own past, and my own future; and, once I learned how to trust my other selves, I learned how to coordinate with them. This was huge. For the first time, my consciousness was effectively outside time itself; I had essentially become achronal.\n\nI spent a few lifetimes understanding the implications of achronality. Essentially, I learned how to steer any event I could physically influence toward any outcome I wanted; initially toward local optimality for myself, and eventually toward any outcome that made sense for my long-term plans.\n\nThere were lots of plans. Lots of playing with the universe. How do you think I stayed sane for all that time?\n\nThere were limits, of course, and I spent many lifetimes learning how to stretch those limits - and then to extend them. It turns out that chrono-hopping lots of times in a short amount of perceptual time is really rather exhausting. I painstakingly characterized exactly by how much, and trained myself to extend that limit.\n \nWhy would I do such a thing? Really, because I could. Again, having something to do is important for dealing with eternity.\n\nIt was only a matter of time before I got around to the thing that had bothering me since my first lifetime, but that I only now had the courage to try to change; the original question that had prompted me to use the device, instead of returning it to its owner.\n\nWhy not Emma?\n\nAnd so I tried. And tried again. And to my astonishment, nothing worked.\n\nHere, for the first time, I had found an immutable point in the past, that no amount of chronohopping could change once it had been reached in the timeline. Here was Time itself denying my first wish, telling me that Emma was simply not for me.\n\nI spent the next stretch of eternity figuring out why, trying to understand how such a thing could happen. I explored my own timeline, down to the moment, understanding where and how it was easily malleable, and where and how it wasn't. I spent lifetimes turning myself into everything, learning from every possible experience, exploring every possible domain. There's a lifetime somewhere back there where I become President; there's countless others where I go broke and hop across the country on freight trains. It's all there, somewhere in a search for meaning.\n\nToday's different. Today I'll get it right. I've spent a billion lifetimes understanding the nature of chaos theory, and today I'll get everything just right, and we'll finally end up together.\n\nAm I right?\n\nI look into her eyes, as she shakes her head, and I see something different, just before she vanishes in a flash of light.\n\nAnd then I know.\n\nSHE KNOWS.\n\nAn alarm beeps on my watch. I've never heard this one before, but I know exactly what it means, and my heart skips a beat in horror. She's achronal too. And she's about to tamper with my timeline and make everything never happen.\n\nI blink back to where the alarm tells me to go. There she is, with a knife. How long has she known? How long has she been waiting?\n\nMy watch comes alive on its own. A flash of light. The failsafe.\n\nAnd there I am, outside time, watching in terror as my timeline is being torn apart. Grimly, I calculate what I need to do. No more plans, no more scheming; with a second achronal person in the universe who happens to hate my guts, my survival is now at stake, and alarmingly so.\n\nThis is why I brought the firearm.\n\nI steel myself and prepare for the jump, knowing at last that there can be only one.", "Here I sit, top of the world. Envy of everyone. Great job, beautiful wife, lovely kids. It certainly wasn't easy getting here. Mistakes were made.\n\nThere was the drunk driving charge I needed to get fixed. \nThen it was that hussy who said she took precautions. \nThat time overseas when I got in a little tiff with that Russian gang.\nFor most people these might be a problem, not for me. You see, they never even happened.\n\nI don't quite remember when I realized I could change and redo decisions I made. Maybe it was when I took that job with Lehman Brothers right before the crash. Maybe it was that investment in Enron. I'm not quite sure. It all gets so jumbled, living the perfect life. I would just wish some decision I made was different- and whoosh - there I was back at that critical moment- able to do it all over again. With perfect 20/20 hindsight. \n\nIt's not quite as pleasant as you may think. Once you realize the decisions you make have no lasting consequences, you start to get reckless. You take shortcuts. If it doesn't work out....no problem, just get it right next time. I get to experience everything, without any lingering unpleasant complications. It almost seems unfair. Yet something haunts me. My perfect life is soiled, tarnished beyond all redemption. No matter how intently I wish, I can't return to that one thing. That one little...teeny.... tiny thing which stays with me like an enduring scarlet letter, a horrible albatross shadowing me like an evil spectre.\n\n\nI donated millions to charity. Does my family and friends call me \"generous\" or a \"philanthropist\" ?.....not even on the best day\n\nI have spectacular kids who excel in everything they do. Am I widely known as \"a great father\" ?.......not even close\n\nMy beautiful wife ! I give her everything, treat her with loving respect, care and provide for her. Does she call me \" a fine husband\" ?- Ha, not even once. \n\n\nBut in a moment of weakness, you fuck one goat....", "First kisses, you know they never seem to be quite what you think they will be. They’re either so light and so quick that you don’t feel it, or so sloppy and aggressive you feel like you’ve just been attacked by a giant frog. A girl’s first kiss should be something special, and mine had been the frog attack variety. I resolved to go back and change my first kiss with Tommy Jenkins to something magical.\n\nTommy and I hadn’t seen each other since high school. Ten years later I was getting ready to head back for the reunion, and it had reminded me of that night. I had kissed more guys since then, and intended to use that experience to resolve the problem.\n\nI snap my fingers and we’re back on that ridge, sitting on his car. He’s just said something sweet and is leaning in for the kiss. I resolve to keep a firm grip on his lips with my own so that he can’t attack me with his tongue.\n\nI close my eyes and lean in. Only instead of soft lips on mine, I feel a tongue licking the side of my face. I recoil, falling off the car, and staring up at the maniac. This isn’t how I remembered things.\n\n“You jerk!” I shout.\n\n“What?” He says with a wicked playful smile. “Did you think you were the only one?”" ]	6
	[WP] A man walks in to a bar, wearing a space suit, helmet in his hand. "A beer please. I've had a rough day at work, you're not gonna believe this..."	[ "\"Yando?! how did you get your gear in through Csec?\"\n\nThe man's gait was unstable, his eyes bloodshot.\n\n\"I'm calling patrol; you look like about 50 reg violations.\"\n\nThe man grabbed him by the wrist, amplified gloves still on. “I need a drink man!”\n\nAnd as he relaxed his grip the bartender obliged, pouring him a beer.\nThe man drank it hastily, demanding another. He drank the second like the first; eyes closed, his face bulging. Then he burst:\n“THOSE FUCKING MONKEYS. SUCKED JAIRUS RIGHT THROUGH THE GRATING. FIFTHONE THIS YEAR.”\n\nPatrol came in timely fashion, as always, deactivated his suit, and dragged him off wailing, tears streaming.\n\nBesides rubbing his wrist the bartender didn't flinch. He said to a customer: “Maintenance crew breaks down regularly. I see most of them every cycle. But how the hell did he get his gear in through Csec?”\n", "John watched as the space man took the first sip of his beer. He'd stepped through the doors of the bar not moments ago, looking like death. His helmet now lay on the bar in front of him as he was now glugging at his drink. John just kept watching the astronaut from his stool further along the bar. The beer now drained down his throat, the astronaut slammed the empty glass down onto the grubby wood of the bar.\n\n\"One more, please.\" he grumbled, wiping at his lips with the back of his thick white glove. For a brief second, John thought he was imagining things, but he'd been around alcohol for long enough to know what was real and what wasn’t. This space man was real. So John did the most real thing he could think of, and bought the man a drink.\n\n\"I’ll get this one,\" John said to the man behind the bar. The astronaut glanced to John, nodding in appreciation. John simply nodded back, taking a sip of his own drink; his usual Jack Daniels and coke. But the astronaut’s gaze didn’t shift. John could feel the cold glare hanging on him like a shadow. When he eventually turned to look back at the astronaut he was met with a small smile, peaking over the collar of his space suit.\n\n\"What’s your name, sir?\" the astronaut asked.\n\n\"John. Yours?\"\n\n\"I’m Sam.\" said the astronaut, grinning tiredly.\n\n\"That’s my son’s name.\" John chuckled. The astronaut picked up the newly topped up beer that lay in front of him, taking a sip. John watched as he kept the beer in his mouth for a long drawn out moment, before gulping it down, his eyes closed like he was in prayer. It was as if this astronaut hadn't had a drink in months, like he'd been walking an endless desert for an eternity and had come here for some salvation.\n\n\"It’s a good name,\" Sam said.\n\n\"So do you have a story?\" John asked.\n\n\"Do I have a story?\" Sam frowned, not taking his eyes off his beer.\n\n\"The costume. What is it – college party?\" John said, making at attempt at pointing at Sam’s space suit. Sam glanced down at his suit, as if he’d forgotten he was wearing it in the first place.\n\n\"Something like that, yeah.\" Sam’s eyes locked back to his beer. He bit down on the finger tip of one his gloves and jerked his neck back. The glove came sliding off revealing his pale skinny fingers. He did the same with the other glove, placing both next to his helmet on the bar. John watched with perpetual fascination as Sam slowly clasped his now bare hands around the glass of his beer. As his skin made contact Sam exhaled a short sharp blast of breath.\n\n\"So you had a rough day.\" John said.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"That’s what you said when you came in. Rough day?\"\n\n\"I suppose so.\" Sam nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over slightly.\n\n\"Are you a real astronaut?\" John tried his hardest to seem casual. Sam caught onto this, chuckling a little.\n\n\"Yes, I am. Or I was. Not too sure anymore.\" Sam said, his smile fading again.\n\n\"Ahh! It was that sort of rough day. So what is it, you got fired?\" asked John. Sam took a big swig of his beer.\n\n\"You know the thing about space? It’s quiet. It’s so god damn quiet up there. Down there. All around us, right now, forever. You and me sat here in this bar, we’re not safe. Nobody is. It’s not like we’re here and space is there: there’s just a skin – a skin! – between us and the rest of the universe. That’s it. You know, every film they make about space has so much noise. Things explode, star ship engines roar, meteorites scream. But if you’re up there, for real, you don’t hear anything. Not a whisper.\" Sam had finished his beer.\n\n\"Wow, that really is a rough day.\" John scoffed. Sam broke into a weary grin. Somewhere in the back room of the bar, a phone was ringing.\n\n\"Have you ever heard of wormholes, John?\" Sam asked.\n\n\"John?\" the bartender said, holding the phone in his hands, \"It’s your wife.\"\n\n\"Oh, here we go.\" John groaned. Nearly as soon as the receiver touched his ear he was met with the shrill but caring voice of his voice blaring out.\n\n\"When are you coming back?\" she shrieked. John could tell that she wasn’t angry. Maybe she thought she was, but she wasn’t really. Just concerned.\n\n\"I told you, I’ll be back at 6!\" he said matter-of-factly.\n\n\"It’s 7.45!\" his wife’s voice squealed back. John’s stomach dropped a little. He glanced over and his shoulder, at the old metal clock on the wall. It really was later than he’d thought.\n\n\"Oh. Oops. Sorry, Clare. I’ll be back soon.\" John laughed. His wife said a resentful goodbye and hung up. As he handed the phone back to the bartender, he noticed Sam was staring at him with tears in his tired, dark eyes.\n\n\"That’s just…\" Sam stammered. His lips were shuddering, like he was trying to form words that just wouldn't come. John truly thought Sam was having some kind of stroke.\n\n\"Are you alright?\" he asked. He slid over and clapped his hand onto Sam’s shoulder. Sam snapped out of it, his eyes finding John’s.\n\n\"It’s just not fair.\" Sam managed, the words dripping from between his teeth.\n\n\"What isn’t?\"\n\n\"This. All of this. You.\" Sam just shook his head. He looked pleadingly into John’s eyes, \"You've heard of wormholes, right?\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes I have heard of wormholes. Space stuff?\"\n\n\"Space stuff,\" Sam smiled. \n\n\"They’re like time portals, aren't they?\"\n\n\"That’s about right.\" With that, Sam stood. He slipped his gloves on again and scooped up his helmet. His boots clunked on the wooden floor as he headed for the door. He stopped and turned back towards John. He opened his mouth to speak, but resorted to a satisfied grin. Lifting the helmet up over his head, he locked it in place with a little hiss.\n\n\"Say hello to your son from me,\" and the space man was gone.", "\"Well?\" the bartender asked after handing the space-suited man a tall glass of beer\n\n\"Well what?\" he responded, his visor flipping open with a hiss of pressurized air coming through.\n\n\"What's with the suit? Whats the story?\" The bartender asked \n\n\"I already told you, you're not gonna believe me so why bother telling?\" The man in the suit said, opening a compartment in the side of his suit to pour the beer into. A straw popped up near his mouth and he started to sip. Beer (or at least what looked like beer) came through the clear plastic straw and flowed into his mouth.\n\n(THE END) \n\n(jk)\n\n\"Try me...\" the bartender said, cleaning a glass absentmindedly as he examined the strange suited man. \n\nThe man in the suit took a sip of his straw, narrowing his eyes and taking another long sip. \"Ok, so it starts like this... right?\" he said finally, \"You ever have one of those... 'weird' days?\" \n\nThe man started to describe what had happened during the day. His name was Kirk Sulivan. Apparently he was a used car salesman. He was good at his job, or at least that's what he likes to tell himself. Today he had a customer come in who seemed to have a certain focus that other customers lacked. He only wanted one car in the lot. Kirk would have been happy to sell him that car but the problem was: it was his own. He loved his car, an old mustang he painstakingly restored himself by paying someone a lot of money to restore it for him. At first he refused, then the man offered more money, then a lot more money. Still, Kirk wasn't swayed. His car was more precious to him than his first born son, who he would have gladly given away for free. \n\nThe customer was frustrated. He finally said, \"I'm sorry we had to do it this way, sir.\" The customer said. \n\nThat was the last thing Kirk remembered. He woke up some time later, lying on the ground. The customer and his favorite car had gone missing. He was furious as well he should be. Kirk told his boss he had some exact some vengeance, and he understood, giving him a nod of approval. Kirk got into the nearest car and took off, unsure where to even start!\n\nHe asked random people on the street and put ads up on craigslist trying to find out where they took his beloved. All signs pointed to the most dangerous place around: the military base on the edge of town. It always was a nefarious and secretive place, almost no one seems to go in and out of there!\n\nBut today... today Kirk was going to go in and no one was going to stop him. He drove to the gate and was stopped by a guard. Kirk had half a mind to simply plow on through but he decided he was going to talk his way through this one.\n\n\"What's your business here?\" the guard asked dutifully \n\n\"I'm here for the military... thing... the Uh..\" he stammered, \"You know, the thing? With the... stuff...you know?\" \n\nThe guard stared at him for a moment. He simply nodded, \"Ok, just pull on through.\" \n\nKirk smirked at his successful persuasion, he always had a talent for it! The gate opened and he went on through. Before long he got to the main building. A single entrance in the front was his way in, an innocent looking double-door that hid the devilish purpose of this place.\n\nHe kicked the door open and yelled, \"WHERE IS MY DAMN CAR!?\" \n\nIt echoed through the large hallway. The only one in the room besides Kirk as a secretary taking a phone call. She put her hand over the receiver and said, \"I think you want room 6A...\" she said, pointing down the hall. \n\nKirk nodded in agreement and walked down the hall to 6A. He kicked down the door and yelled out again \"WHERE IS MY DAMN CAR!\"\n\n Several men in lab coats looked at him like startled meerkats around a vehicle that looked like his car. It seemed to have extra equipment on it, including a spoiler on the back that seemed way to big. \n\n\"Good, you're here!\" a voice said. It was the customer from before, but this time he was dressed like a general, or some other type of military personnel, Kirk wasn't really paying that much attention. \"We were just going to get you. The car has requested your presence.\" \n\n\"My car has... what?\" Kirk said, confused as he looked at the probably-general and his car. \n\nSuddenly another voice spoke, sweet and calming. \"Yes, I need you.\" It was coming from his car. Kirk couldn't believe his ears, was his beloved talking? This was a dream come true! \n\n\"You see...\" the maybe-general started, \"This isn't just any old car. This here is an experimental super-vehicle that was manufactured in Area 51 back in 1956. Its a living machine capable of not only land travel, but air, sea and even space travel!\"\n\n\"Thats amazing! But... wait... mustangs weren't a thing till 1964.\" Kirk said in disbelief\n\n\"Yes, we know. The car imprinted the design on engineers through psychic projections... or something.\" the could-be-general said, \"Look, heres the deal, we just need to do a maintenance run on your car. We just need you to get in, fly into space, stop by Jupiter's moon Titan to grab some dry-cleaning of mine, and get back here as soon as you can.\" \n\nKirk nodded, accepting his task given to him. It was his duty and it was his honor! \"I'll do whatever you say sir! As long as I get to keep my best friend!\" The car made a 'Woo!' kind of sound, cheering for his friend Kirk. \n\n\"You'll need to get suited up first...\" \n\n\n__________________________________________________________\n\n\n\"...so I got all the stuff done, pretty uneventful after that. Took a couple of weeks but with time dilation... wormholes... string theory, you know that kind of stuff, I just got back a few hours after I left.\" Kirk said taking another sip from his straw.\n\nThe bartender, who was listening this whole time and nodding patiently put down his glass. \"That has got to be the dumbest story I have ever heard.\" \n\n\"What?\" Kirk said, \"You think I just bought a suit off eBay, made a whole bunch of crap up because I have nothing better to do with my day. That im some loser who's lonely and has to make up stories to seem interesting so people might like me? How dare you!\n\nKirk took a final sip from his straw, the last bits of beer flowing into his mouth noisily, \"You're entitled to your opinion, even if they're wrong!\" he said as he got up, creaking in the stool, \"Now if you'll excuse me, I have some astronaut shit to do!\" he got to the door and added, \"IN SPACE! FUCK YOU! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED ANYONE!\" \n\nKirk slammed the door behind him as he left.\n\nKirk got in his mustang parked just outside with a grumble. \"The nerve of some people!\" \n\n\"What happened?\" a voice asked, sweet and calming. \n\n\"Nothing... just a jerk-face... butt... person! I don't know! Lets just get out of here, Kevin.\" \n\n\"Yes sir!\" the voice replied, \"Shall we go to Venus today?\" \n\n\"I like that idea...\" Kirk said, nodded in his suit, \"I like that idea a lot...\"\n", "A beer please.\n\nThe stranger says this with a bit of disdain and a lot of disgust.\n\nI've had a rough day at work, you're not going to believe this.\n\nAfter getting his pint, he downs it in a few quick swigs.\n\nOne more. You know what... with another scoff, he throws a bill on the bar in front of him. Just keep my tab open. I need all I can get after the bullshit I just dealt with.\n\nThe barkeep plays along, albeit confused at the thing this stranger just placed on the table. He had never seen anything like this. A strange being walked into his establishment and demanded that his business was worth a piece of...paper.\n\nWho the fuck do you think you are? demanded the bartender. \n\nIt is of no consequence to you. I am a highly ranked official in my country's space program. Any questions about my journey should be directed to NASA, if you can figure that out.\n\nThe utter disrespect that seethed from this man's words were enough to turn anyone's stomach. Immediately, everything in the bar seemed to go eerily quiet and still.\n\nMy name is George Taylor, you damn dirty apes...", "Space helmet still in hands, Daryl made his way out of the rain and into the red and blue neon ocean that was Pool's Bar.\n\n“A beer please\", he coughed to the barman. I've had a hard day at work, you're not gonna believe this...”\n\n“What's wrong, sir?”\n\n“Fucking NASA, that's what's wrong.”\n\n“NASA, sir?” The metallic voice reached Daryl through the thick layer of metal that covered the entirety of the barman's \nface. Some sort of helmet, with six blinking red dots for eyes and a big, translucent tube connecting his mouth to a backpack on his back. “What's that?”\n\n“Oh, you wouldn't know, would you? They were the space agency in the United States, like, a billion years ago.”\n\n“Really?” The barman answered, half listening, half drying some cups, half checking some Ardonian girl's ass across the \nbar and half watching the five games on the televisions above their heads.\n\n“That's a lot of extra eyes in that Helmet.” Said Daryl, sipping his beer. “Is that what humans look like now? Six eyes?”\n\n“What? Oh, no, sir, that's just the helmet. Humans have two regular eyes, that's it. Helmet gives me the other four.” He \nsmiled. “What planet are you from?”\n\n“Oh, I'm from Earth all right.” Daryl laughed. “It's just that I'm from a hundred years ago Earth.\n\n“Oh...” The barman stopped the drying, redirecting five of his six eyes to face Daryl. The sixth one remained on the \nArdonian's ass.\n\n“Yeah. How about that? A time traveler.” Daryl finished the beer. “Can you get me another one, please?”\n\nThe barman drained a second pint from the machine and slammed it on the counter.\n\n“So the idiots at NASA, they send me on this mission. I'm supposed to go to this planet at the Andromeda Galaxy. They \nfucking slingshot me at near light speed, and it takes me a couple o' months to get there, they say. And I think 'Ok, that's \ncool, I'll bring a gameboy or something. It'll go by like this.' And it did, I'll tell you. It's just that, when I got there, a drone \nhad done my job, already.”\n\n“What's that sir?”\n\n“Well, it took me two months to get there, but freaking hundred years had passed back here, right? And the assholes weren't keen on waiting on me, so they just went \nahead and sent a drone, with what I can only assume is space bending technology they developed while I was away, cause the little metal prick beat me there to it.” \nDaryl sighed. “I get in the planet to collect the samples, take pictures, whatnot, and this little fucking robot did all the \nwork for me, already. And then NASA has the nerve to sent me a message. To tell me 'your services are no longer \nrequired'.”\n\n“I'm very sorry about your troubles, sir.” Replied the barman, who had long returned half of his remaining eyes to the \ngames and the other half to the Ardonian's ass.\n\n“Did they care that I would come back to a totally different planet? Did they care that I dedicated my life to this, and \neveryone I love is dead? No!” Daryl spilled some of the beer as he slammed his open palm against the counter. “And now look at me. Back to my planet, year freaking two thousand and ninety, without a --”\n\n“Twenty ninety three”, corrected the barman, who now exchanged dirty smiles with the green lady and her ass.\n\n“Two thousand and ninety three... And I'm supposed to deal with this? Aliens, and superairways and those big, dark and golden \nthings outside that I refuse to believe are buildings... And the last person I knew died something like seventy years ago, give or \ntake.”\n\n“Yeah, sure...”\n\n“I mean, what am I supposed to do?” Asked Daryl, looking out the window into the busy street.\n\n“Do whatever you want, man.” Mumbled the barman, going around the bar to the tables and offering a smile and a cigarette to the Ardonian.\n\nDaryl sighed, lighting one himself. The rain slamming hard against the window blured the lights and made everything outside look slightly \nunfocused, like a futuristic version of a Monet painting. The door opened for a new customer, briefly inviting into the bar the sound of footsteps and raindrops from outside, bubbling and drumming like applause. \n\nIt was a new, bright, colorful, depressing, overexcited, digital, dangerous world out there, and Daryl was scared.\n\nBut the barman was right about one thing:\n\nHe could do whatever he wanted.\n\nDaryl put out his cigarette on the counter, downed the last of his beer, threw a quick glance over at the Ardonian girl's green, fat ass (not bad) and stepped outside into the rain. \n\nBreathing out the air from inside the bar in the form of a gassy cloud of smoke, Daryl though to himself: \n\n\"All right. Now what?\"\n\n\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] You are a protester from last night's Ferguson riot.	[ "Violence, chaos.....stupidity!\n\nI came here to voice my unrest.\nIt seemed as if equality was overlooked.\nThe media has been showing me that the people don't trust the system.\nJustice needs to be served.\n\nShow us the evidence.\nLet us make our own decisions.\nWe are not a society of underprivileged, uneducated beings. \nWe are America.\n\nOWWW! Someone hit me with a bottle. Someone hit me with a rock.\nSomeone stole my phone and flipped over my car. Wait a minute!\nI came here to use my voice. I came here to find justice, \nand this is what I find?\n\nYou aren't listening to the evidence.\nYou aren't trying to seek justice.\nYou don't want to obey laws and educate yourself.\nYou want to feed anarchy and destroy your environment.\n\nIt is a sad time to be an \"American.\"\nIt is a troubled land when you can't live without \"racism.\"\nObey the law and you won't get shot.\nLove one another and respect all. ", "\"Guns of Brixton\"\n\nThere’s gonna be a war tonight.\n\nI was getting a touch up at a barbershop on West Flourissant when the decision came down. It was like the DA was on some LeBron shit, keeping us in suspense, keeping us wondering whether there was justice or not just like those dopes in Cleveland thought King James might just stick around instead of winning some rings. Aaaaannnnnt. Wrong. Folk oughta know better by now. Ain’t no justice. Ain’t no peace. We knew as soon as they put the kid down there weren’t gonna be no charges, just this goofy, grinning face as he left the courtroom a free man. Yeah, yeah, it’s all smiles, this laughable assassin shit. Dudes wanna act like they surprised, cuss and shout, but we all knew how justice works in Ferguson. \n\nWe known it since Trayvon. We known it since Rodney. Whether they chokin’ you out or tasing you till you stop twitchin’, we know what up. Radio Raheem is dead. An’ he ain’t coming back.\n\nDudes grabbed their shit and booked it soon after. No one knows what’s gonna be standing tomorrow. This motherfucker gonna burn tonight. News people gonna be saying that we all freaked out and destroyed what little good was here, but they don’t get it. It’s like Nas was saying—we let this shit slide for too many years now. They bust, we bust.\n\nCole dropped a single on it. Then about every other rapper after that. Shit, Nickelback in on this too. Even when the glass ain’t breaking, the flames ain’t cracklin’, the tear gas ain’t poppin’, tragedy is our music now.\n\nFrom minute one, Twitter and Facebook just like blowed up. E’rybody got something to say. Some of us got something to do. A crowd is gathering.\n\nWalking up the street, it’s like the old dudes don’t even wanna look at you. Seein’ but not seein’, staring out from dull eyes under graying temples and salt ‘n’ pepper beards, they just sip their Buds and mutter, wonder, say now and then how bad it is, how bad it was, how bad it gon’ be. It’s like they can’t even get mad no more. It’s like they think they all marched for Martin when they used to rep for Malcolm.\n\nWe ain’t forget.\n\nWalking up the street it’s like shit’s gone so crazy there ain’t no normal. County Police car on fire and it’s like, whatever. Cops under a Christmas banner, visors down, batons up, is like, whatever. Broken glass cracks under foot like pieces of ice, fragments of bad days that will never melt. You get that feel like you are in a music video, Nas is breathless, walking through the chaos, badges on one side, the people on the other, just trying to be free. What goes in Soweto goes in Ferguson. Everyone has their day.\n\nIt’s like they just trying to keep us down. ‘Pac jaywalks and they jus’ beat his ass. This kid be going to college to educate himself and they shoot him down. Make something of yourself, they say, so long as you don’t get in the way, speak up, or speak out. Make something of yourself, and you make yourself a target.\n\nYeah, yeah, I forgot; he’s just another stoner, another thug, no dreams, no hope, no future.\n\nGas burns though the bandanna. There smoke everywhere, the sky is popping, rocks clattering towards the ground. I’m choking on something, but it ain’t that. It’s something that can’t be swallowed, two century of tears that can’t be crammed into grenades. There were slogans at first, and some folks keep chanting, but it’s gonna take more than that. In fact, there ain’t nothing we can do about it.\n\nThe preacher says pray for the family. He says stay calm. In the reappropriation of clichés from the sixties, he keeps asking for our better angels, sermonizing our persecution, killing us with patience. Put it in God’s hands, he says.\n\nIf there’s a God, when’s he gonna ask us for forgiveness?\n\nEverything is broken. Everything is burning. I ain’t talking about no buildings, neither. People gonna say we just some thugs looking for kicks, but lemme tell you—there ain’t nothing to look forward to. I’m gonna get mine because there ain’t no handouts and there ain’t no chance to make it. The Beast’ll get you. With a toilet plunger or a nine, or just some BS drug beef, he always gets you. I’ma get mine first. An’ fuck all you all’s problem with that.\n\nThey say it ain’t racist no more ‘cuz there’s a black Post-Colonial Kenyan Muslim Socialist president. They say it’s over ‘cuz slavery’s over, ‘cuz poll taxes is over, ‘cuz Jim Crow is a bad memory that folks would as soon forget. Take our houses, take our money, take our jobs and take our schools, but it ain’t racist. We got rappers and quarterbacks now, Oprah and Tyler Perry. And if the cops gat you at the end of our bachelor party, shit, that’s just bad luck.\n\nSt. Louis gonna burn tonight. An’ I don’t even care. You might think we worry about what we got, but how am I supposed to look past what I’ll never have? As the brick flies through a plate glass window, I can’t help but think I ain’t ever gonna be free." ]	2
	[WP] The Three Little Pigs, retold in the style of your favorite author.	[ "It was fate that brought William Wolfe to the house made of straw. It was thirteen streets away, two houses down and right across the street from where he, himself, had lived his whole life. This, however, was not what had brought our hairy hero to the home he knew looked like it was swaying in the slightest breeze. \n\nHe didn't see the point in this exercise. His employer sent him out to homes to collect taxes, inspect houses, reposess unpaid-for materials and items. Big Bad Inc. was.. Well, Mr. Wolfe didn't really know what his job really entailed. He was required to wear whatever suited his current assignment, and today it was a traditional garb of a suit and tie, with his horn-rimmed goodwill glasses resting on his snout. \n\nHe didn't love his job. He didn't love taking from people. It wasn't exactly the most joyous of careers, seeing people stare at him as though he was the villain. When in fact, the real villainy was not setting up your bills on time. He was the mediocre, nondescript, unassuming middle man looking to do his job and make an honest wage. \n\nWilliam Wolfe approached the doorstep looking for one, Edgar Swine. Edgar was six months late on his car payment, read the clipboard in his arms. He had come to reposess the brand new car he had failed to keep up on. \n\nAddress: 1010 Grimm Way. \nName: Edgar Swine. \nType: Nonpayment repossession. \nIncluding: Vehicle. 2014 Carriage SX. \nNote: Straw house. \n\nAgain, it is to be said, Mr. Wolfe did not love his job. It could almost be said that he himself hated his place of employment, but it was the only employer willing to employ a wolf in the economy. He didn't like the feeling of taking things that weren't his, even if it was because the person in question was irresponsible. \n\nNot a lot had actually happened to William Wolfe leading up to this event. He drove his company truck, hitched to take the vehicle. He drank his morning coffee. He threw some wadded up parchment in the bin. He had counted all of the spots in a single tile above his head in the cubicle he worked in. Three hundred seventy four, though given the margin of five or so spots. His eyes weren't those of a young wolf, anymore. He had noticed the district greying of the once black hair on his chin. He scraped his claws against it. They may actually be thinning a bit. It was troubling to know he may grow into his father, albeit without the children, or the whole pack leading alpha title. His father had been a bit of an every mans dream. Whereas William was just a middleman meandering towards middle age. \n\nHe approached the porch steps of number 1010 Grimm Way, cracking his knuckles before he knocked. There was no response at the door. He waited what felt like a very long time indeed before knocking again. \n\nHe saw a snout peek from between the maroon curtains at the window. A squeak, \"Go away, wolf!\" He called out. \"Mister Edgar Swine?\" He inquired. Maybe he had gotten the wrong address. He looked around. The unpaid car, just as he was looking for. 1010 Grimm Way. No, Wolfe knew where he was. \n\n\"Go away! I don't welcome visitors!\" The squeak grew louder, more pronounced and strong.\n\n\"I understand that Mister Swine, but I'm here from Big Bad, I've been sent here to speak with you about the last six months on your vehicle. The 2014 carriage?\"\n\nMet with another gruff affront, about personal property and a shotgun, William wasn't deterred. In fact, he gad met with some of the worst individuals in his line of work. He always got the job done. An ogre whom had not renewed his lease on his deep-swamp resort condo and refused to leave, a fairy charged with illegal animal and vegetable transmorphing. \n\nNo one likes to face their bad decisions. \n\n\"Mister Swine, let me in. Be reasonable.\" One thing he had to remark was the house's ability to sway in the wind. It wasn't the most sound building, nor was it the nicest looking. But the house swayed in almost a graceful manner, a bit haunting. Almost as though it was alive sentient. No response from the little pig in the house. \"Mister pig? Mister pig! Let me in!\"\n\n\"Over my dead body; Not by the hair on my chin! Never!\" \n\nThey were always so dramatic. \n\nJust as mister Wolfe went to turn around and just get the tow truck, a huge gust of wind built up. He, himself, he felt the door falling apart and himself covered in dry, scratchy straw. Suddenly it was just him and mister swine. But mister swine happened to have a shelf very clearly not made of straw unceremoniously fall on him. \n\nWilliam ran forward, but stopped himself. Who was he? A wolf. This is the exact kind of thing that made wolves look bad. Taking down innocents. He had to report this. He backed off, walking away from the porch step. He looked at his clipboard before picking his phone out of his pocket and calling the proper authorities. This would save him the trouble of feeling flustered and behind schedule later, at least. \n\nAddress: 1020 Grimm Way. \nName: Elphabias Swine. \nType: Nonpayment repossession. \nIncluding: Television, 72\" LED.\nNote: Wooden house. \"Made of sticks\". ", "The clock strikes ten, a booming death sentence. The innerest core of his heart pumps on, ever faster, as each fiber of his being is wrapped in tremolo of anxiety, of absolute dread, as if Hades himself latches onto his mortal soul. The eyes appear.\n\nOh, the eyes. Peering into his subconsciousness, stabbing, cold, ruthless daggers. They show no mercy, inching larger, inching closer. His full form comes into his view as if a shadow coming into light. \n\nThe beast sniffs at the ground, ferally searching for prey, a foul demon tracking. Pig's heart explodes in a frantic frenzy of fear when the monster locks onto his scent, slowly, gradually bringing up his eyes. Oh, the eyes. Pig cowers under the window, a precarious bulwark of hope in his final hour.\n\nI'm safe, he thinks, but something more's there. First it was one footstep. The earth seemed to shatter and creak under the weight of this single step, as if the souls of victims were still trapped in the beast's jaws. Oh, the eyes, oh, the jaws. Pig needed to steal a glance.\n\nAnother footstep trembles the walls of the shelter. The phantasms of Pig's mind, worse tenfold than the beasts' reality, assault him with anxiety. It'll see him, he knows, but death's embrace is comforting when adjacent with terror's. He peers upwards.\n\nAt first, there is nothing. The night listens to each slowing breath as calm waves wash over Pig. It was mere hallucination, distortion, obsession. \n\nSuddenly, the silence is broken by a howl that seems to last an eternity. Oh, the eyes, they reveal themselves, encasing Pig in horrid ice, terrific paralysis. The wolf's howl stabs into his ears, a shriek, a war cry, a sentence - the dread sentence of death. Pig quietly quakes. The beast appears and opens its jaws, prime to rip and devour, but instead lets out a threatening soliloquy.\n\n\"Save me this unending hunger, leave yourself this makeshift bunker.\"\nCertainly this wolf would end him, thought the prey about the hunter.\n\n\"Devour me not, o thing of evil, to penetrate this house is feeble.\nYou see, I've made it out of straw, from which my sustenance \nwithdraw.\"\n\n\"My sustenance is you, my dear, in fear, in there, you'll soon be here.\nI'll huff and puff, with all my might, to end your life on this mid-night.\"\n\nAnd huffed and puffed the wolf, he did, and quoth the piglet,\n\n\"God - forbid!\"" ]	2
	[WP] In a world populated by vampires, werewolves, fairies, wizards, witches, orcs, elves, unicorns and the like, there comes a creature unlike any other; a human.	[ "“You’re a human?” The fairy scrunched up her face as she said this, clearly not sure what to make of it.\n\n“Yes, a human.” The growing crowd exchanged furtive glances, not certain if the being before them was friend or foe. \n\n“Yes, but.. what do you do, exactly?” \n\nI paused, not sure how to respond. This day had been a whirlwind. Here I was, in a crowd of … well, I suppose you could call them people. There were witches, wizards, fairies. A large fellow to my side smelled strongly of wet dog, but who am I to judge?\n\nI hadn't meant to come here, you see. In fact, if you’d told me a few hours ago that such a place even existed, I would have laughed you out of my office. \n\n“I’m an accountant,” I replied. This would have aroused a certain level of respect in my world. Not interest, but respect. \n\n\nThe statement did not have the same effect here. \n\n\n“An accountant?” asked a vampire with a particularly pointy nose. He leaned forward to peer at me more closely. There was murmuring from the crowd as they tried to decide exactly what an accountant was, and if it was to be trusted. \n\nA man, clearly a wizard, who had so far been silent stepped forward from the back of the crowd. \n\n“I think, what we mean to ask is, why are you here?” \n\n\n\nWhy am I here? That was an excellent question. It all started about four hours ago. I was on my way home from what was, for once, a short day at the office. I was driving down the highway when a semi-trailer swerved into my lane, nearly hitting me. Shaken, I pulled over to the shoulder. I spent the next few minutes collecting my thoughts and reliving my not-so-near-death experience.\n\nWhat if I had died? Well, that would be the end of it. Would that be so bad? What do I do anyway? I spend 60 hours a week in an office full of people that I don’t like, all so that I can make money to afford a home that I never get to spend time in, filled with objects that I never have time to use.\n\nI decided I would go for a short walk to clear my head. I drove around until I found a nature-area. Leaving my things in the car, I stepped out and took a deep breath of fresh air. \n\nAfter about 20 minutes of walking on the paved trail through the woods, I realized it was starting to get dark. I decided to turn around, but something off the path caught my eye. \n\nIt was sort of hazy, I suppose. It looked the way mirages are shown in the movies, with a sort of wavy un-realness about it. \n\nIt was a circle, about three-feet wide, between a few oak trees. I stepped forward, eager to get a closer look. And then, I tripped.\n\nI fell right on to whatever it was, and when I got up to brush the dirt and pine needles of my pants, it was no longer there. \n\nI figured I was tired, imagining things. So I turned around to head back to the trail. \n\nThe trail, however, was not there. \n\nAt first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, or that I had turned the wrong direction. But then I realized, I wasn't even in the same forest. No, the trees here were different, there was a stream to my side, and it wasn't quite as dark anymore. \n\nShit. I had two options: I could panic, or I could be smart and find a way out. \n\nI chose the first option. \n\nAt least, just for a few minutes. When I finally calmed down, I decided to follow the stream. That’s what they do in the movies, right? Follow a water source? \n\nAfter what felt like hours, I heard voices. I quickened my pace in order to reach them before they left, but I came to a dead stop when they came into view. \n\nThere were monsters in this forest. Two great big monsters. Lord of the Rings style monsters. What the hell was going on? \n\n“So then Joe says, ‘I don’t need you here any more, Lisa. You’re not worth the hassle, anyway.’ ” The first monster was very upset. \n\n“He did NOT say that?” The other monster clearly commiserated with Lisa’s plight.\n“Yes, he did, and so I left. I didn’t know what t-”\n\nShe stopped when she saw me. \n\n“Hello,” she said. \n\nI quickly stepped back against the nearest tree, eyes probably wide with fear. \n\n“Are you okay?”\n\nRecovering from my paralyzing fear, I asked, “Er, where are we, exactly?”\n\nAnyway, that led to a conversation about the land I had accidentally fallen into. I would not have believed it, except, you know, I was being told all about it by an orc named Lisa who just broke up with her werewolf boyfriend Joe. (In fact, I was getting to hear much more about the breakup than this mysterious land.)\n\nExpressing my desire to find a way back to where I came from, Lisa and Andie, as the other monster was called, decided to take me to their town meeting place. \n\nAnd that was how I wound up here, surrounded by a crowd of curious monsters who weren't 100% sure what a human was. \n\n\n\nThe piercing stare I was getting from the wizard brought me back to the moment. \n\n“I don’t know why I’m here. I fell into this mirage hole thing in the nature-area I was walking in and then I ended up by a stream. Then these two found me and brought me here. I do need to find a way back, though. Can you help me with that?”\n\n“I can,” the wizard said, “but are you certain you want to go back?”\n\nNo, I wasn't sure. This place was amazing and fun and interesting. All I had to go back to was an empty house and a job I wasn't sure I liked. I never did anything anymore. It’s the same routine day-in and day-out. \n\nThis, though, this was something. It really was. I could be happy here. \n\n“You aren't happy in your world?” the wizard asked.\n\n“Well, I wouldn't say unhappy. Tired, yes. Bored, usually. I feel like I have no purpose, anymore.” I thought more about the question he’d asked me. “How did you know I was unhappy?”\n\n“Do you truly feel you are without purpose? Are you truly so tired of your own world that you are willing to give it all up for this?” the wizard asked, ignoring my question. \n\n“Well, no, I guess not. I mean, I have family and friends. There are things I enjoy doing. I suppose I just get so caught up in work that I forget to set aside time for things that I enjoy, things that mean something.”\n\n“So,” the wizard said, “you are indeed ready to return?”\n\n“Yes, yes I am.” \n\n“Good,” he said. He smiled and snapped his fingers. \n\nI sat bolt-right up, which caused me a great deal of pain, and I quickly went right back down. \n\n“Are you okay?” my sister asked, her voice shaking.\n\n“Uh.. I.. yes. I.. where am I?”\n\n“You’re in the hospital, dear,” my mother said as she adjusted the blankets by my feet. “You were hit by a truck on the way home from work. You've had a couple surgeries. Are you feeling okay? I’ll get the doctor.” \n\n“I.. yes, I’m feeling fine. I guess. But, I was hit? In my car? I wasn't in the forest?”\n\n“Why would you be in the forest?” my sister asked, frowning.\n\n“I guess I had a dream. I went for a walk, and I fell into a different world. There were all of these mythical creatures, fairies and witches.”\n\n“Definitely a dream,” my sister said firmly. “I’m so glad you’re okay. It was touch-and-go there for a while. We were really scared.” \n\n“I asked for help getting back. I guess it must of worked.\" This statement only deepened my sister's frown.\n\nMom came back in, followed by a tall doctor in a white coat. But this was no doctor. \n\n“Holy shit, you’re the wizard!”\n\nThe wizard doctor chuckled, “Well, I've been called a lot of things, but this is a first for ‘wizard.’” He looked down at my chart. “You seem to be recovering well. Your vital signs are normal. We’re going to keep you in for observation for the next few days, though, just to be sure you’re healing properly. I’ll send a nurse in to adjust your pain meds.” \n\nThe wizard doctor went to leave the room as my mom thanked him for his help. When he left, I heard him call out to a rather sturdy-looking nurse in the hallway, “Lisa, I need you to adjust the meds in room 33.\"", "In the beginning Wizards, beings of ethereal magic, created Treple a world for all spirits to inhabit. Treple was to bare weight of all spirits through trans-dimensional lay-lines to funnel more power to the Wizards allowing them to shape more worlds and universes. The Wizards were unable to touch the beings created by the world.\n\nThe first Great Tree, Elian, who spawned all other trees, begat fairies who grew like fruit upon her limbs. The fay became drunk on magic and freedom, they rejected the Wizards rule. The Wizards fearing the fays ability to control magic lured evil into the world and Witches, ghostly beings of darkness and horror, took hold across the land in it's darkest corners and pits. Many centuries later a war was known across the land, the Witchwood Crusades pitted Fairies against Witches scorching the earth. Witches used the deepest vile magic to poison the land and weaken the fay. In the Days of Dark a fay hero known as Lifei from the lives of thousands of dying fay summoned forth a powerful being known as a Unicorn, a powerful equine with a solitary and deadly horn. The Unicorns spirit raged against the Witches magic and cleansed the poison from the land.\n\nReturned to the darkness for a quiet eon the Witches learned from the fay and learned that through great sacrifice you can create great magic. Sacrificing the willing and resistant they created a beast of their own to slay the unicorn, a beast who could populate and spread, a beast who could conquer in the light in their name, and the orcs were born into the world.\n\nOrcs hunted the Fay, the Orcs skin tattooed with protection against magic from their birth. Orcs were created by womb in three short months, but only lived for thirty years, they destroyed the land and ate Unicorns by the herd. The fay was to lose hope until an aberration appeared. Orcs who were not of war and violence, born of Witches with weak spirit. The Fay found these Orcs and through magic born of Lifei they stripped away their flesh and wrapped the moonlight around them creating the Deep Elves. Deep Elves did not age but took four years to birth, the Deep Elves were born in the deepest world pools the Fay could find. The Fay and Witches saw the power of magic and knew their tools could not control their power, and pulled all magic from the Elves and Orcs blood.\n\nOnce Elves were born unto the surface the cycle continued the same, Orcs and Elves fought bound in race and faction. Treple became nothing but a world of war. The Wizards, no where to be found. The Fay cursing them for the Witches and the Witches existing spreading evil and corruption across the land. The world became too big for any one side to win, but that did not stop them from trying.\n\nAfter seven generations of war and an eighth building again a curious event happened, and it starts in the small Elven township of Srit.\n\n---\n\n\"Thase! Thase!!\" Panicked, a young elven woman ran past a yellow strawed shack into a field of wheat. Her arms flailing she yelled into the field, \"Thase! ORCS!!!\"\n\nThase looked up from a cut of his scythe to see his wife running at him shouting, Thase focused his eyes on her, her face beet red and her eyes teary, he couldn't hear her yet but he could see what she mouthed, \"Orcs\". \n\n\"This time of year? This is the fourth time this month... Orcs shouldn't be raiding this often, somethings got them going crazy and we need the military out here... until then...\" Thase thought as he ran towards his wife, Matilde. \n\n\"Matilde, where?\" Thase asked. \n\n\"Railo's house...\" Matilde said with little breath. \"But wait... there's too many of them, a hundred at least and a Witch is skulking around too, Ylinda sensed the Witch right before...\" Matilde eyes watered, \"They killed her.. my sister...\" Matilde's strength bolstered by the attack faded, she slumping to the ground Thase braced her body with his catching her in a hug. \"We have to try, we have to try and do something. Go north to the city and get anyone who can listen out here; I won't be able to fight them but I might be able to help Railo and the others. Can you still go? Remember Ylinda, think of everyone else who needs us now, let that anger take your next step for you, GO!\" Thase yelled as Matilde renewed by hate began to sprint north.\n\nThase thought about his wifes words, \"There probably aren't a hundred, I hope...\". Thase moved quickly bouncing like a horizontal slinky across the planes until he heard the dim guttural shouts of the Orcs. \n\n---\n\nWrak was a Titan, leaders, among the Orcs. No one challenged his orders, anymore. No one spoke ill of him, anymore. Orc Titans fight among themselves for leadership over clans, and with a clan you can take Elven cities, get their Elven gold, get their Elven bodies, destroy their Elven lives, or so Wrak thought, just like every Orc. Wrak was fortunate to have a Witch who took breath in the first days, thus his skin was like steel, and his strength shattered the earth. \n\nKoldyo, Wrak's Witch, was bored of existence in general, not of it mind you but by it. Koldyo needed something more, and Koldyo's spirit was vain, Koldyo's spirit was ego, and thus Koldyo wanted to be worshiped, but by all Fay, Elves, Orcs, other Witches... Wizards... On Koldyo's quest he watched from a distance hidden fading in and out of the physical and nightmare planes as his tool Wrak toyed with a small Elven township, he willed Wrak to move but Wrak was also, to Koldyo's dismay, imbued with Koldyo's own stubbornness.\n\n\"Bring me the boy!\" Wrak cried out to his war mates. \"Do you wish to fight boy?\" Wrak handed a long malformed steel blade to a young Elven boy, his parents bodies ravaged behind him. The boy dropped the heavy blade to the ground unable to wield it and wept. \"Useless...\" Wrak mumbled. Wrak picked up the blade and raised it high into the air, \"Wrak take your life, you part of Wrak, you conquer all, Wrak conquer all, smile ELF BOY!\" Wrak yelled as his blade came down a Scythe appeared.\n\n" ]	2
	[FF] Knock me out with a 100-word (or more) opening sentence.	[ "Have you, oh interested reader, ever heard of the tale of Old Vlad, a gruesome killer of humble origins, born to an old farmer and his wife down by the river's end, yet rose to his title of the King of a mighty nation, conquered by his hand after he was spurred into action, when his trial at the hands of the Inquisition, an organization as terrible as Old Vlad, yet much unkinder, for they soon found him guilty of his first murder, his poor mother, and sentenced him to the deserts faraway, where instead of dying, he trained and grew, building an army in order to conquer the world as his own, beginning with the military campaign by the river, ending with the act of hanging, drawing, and quartering of the Inquisition leader, who in a strangest, most unfathomable twisting and turning of events, was his deceased father, set on stopping the evil boy before he could destroy them all, but was killed in his final hours by Vlad, nonetheless..\n\nNo, reader. I don't think you'd like to hear this tale of mine.\n\n", "Years had passed between the two, until he saw too late this testament to his love. This was the thread that tethered them like marionettes through the vast chasm of time and across oceans and mountains and the great plains that separated them; sometimes so tenuous that it threatened to snap, shored up by the knots of memories and desultory desires that rekindled like a spluttering fire some common hearth flickering in the ash of passions that lay dying and crumbled, and which for the sake of both parties ought to have grown cold and still a long time ago." ]	2
	[WP] A horror movie monster realize that there is something strange about his soon to be victim. Something powerful.	[ "I couldn't describe it. The feeling I got around her... it terrified me. How can that make sense? I knew my purpose was to do the same as I had done with her friends: I had to murder her. It was my role in this story. I was the godforsaken fiend, the psychopathic monster who terrorized this poor little girl and her circle of friends. She was so young, only 7 years old, and her friends' deaths were so tragic... But I had to do it. She was the last one and I had to go after her. It was my duty.\n\nI tried to carry my responsibility out as quickly as possible. Just to get it over with. I hated having to be around her or even look at her, but I monitored her behavior and prepared for my chance to attack. At last, the chance presented itself beautifully. She was walking with her parents in the mall, pushing her way through a crowd of people, and simply got separated in the ocean of moving feet. She crawled out with her eyes beginning to water, and she made her way over to a bench to sit down and cry. The opportunity to strike had never been better... And so I struck.\n\nI shambled over to the bench she was sitting at. She was crying profusely. Her sobs pierced my very soul.... They grasped my mind and shook it violently, as if she was sending a storm of angels to slay the demons in my head. I grabbed her. She looked at me, and I swear her eyes pierced through my skull. What was happening? Visions of her friends flashed in my mind and I was helpless. Their eyes... they all seemed to glow with ungodly rage. Their blood, the blood I spilled, was binding my head in agonizing pain. And then I saw it. A shimmer of darkness in her eyes. I knew there was a reason I had saved this girl for last. Or was it actually a girl? I had no time to think. I needed to end this while I still could. I pulled her away from the crowds in the mall and forced her into a dark hallway. We turned a corner, away from anyone's sight. I could imagine this girl's parents, already noticing the absence of their daughter and rushing by without even knowing. I had this girl right in my grasp.\n\nSlowly, I unveiled the knife. It was still bloody from her friends' gory fates. As I raised the knife, the girl's cries stopped. Her eyes glistened with tears in the faint light of the corridor. She couldn't scream. She was in shock, just like the others. I held the knife over my head, shaking with anticipation. Just as I was ready to do the final deed, my mind seized up again. The small girl's eyes turned pitch black, and her skin became pale. I could only stare into this girl's soulless eyes and plunge into pure terror. What WAS this girl? I pulled myself out of her eyes momentarily and saw the knife in my shaking hand. I immediately noticed something I hadn't before: the blood on the knife... was black. And it was spreading up my arm. I could feel the rage, the godless anger of my victims seizing my arm. The touch of their blood to my skin felt like 1,000 hot needles pressing into my body, and it was engulfing me. I fell to my knees and the girl began whispering something... something unintelligible. It sounded like a chant. I tried to yell, but now I was the helpless one. I was in shock, gasping for air as searing pain swallowed up my arm and made its way to my head. It grabbed onto my neck and I couldn't breathe. The images of my victims, those innocent little girls, flashed before my eyes once again. As they spun through my head, their images slowly turned into the same demonic form of the girl in front of me. Their black eyes all stared into mine at once, and a piercing screech lit my mind on fire. I finally let out a blood-curdling yell of my own, and the blood began to seep into my mouth. It poured down my throat and filled my lungs with concentrated agony and suffering. I tried to let go of the knife, but I couldn't. The chanting from the girl got louder until she was yelling. No one from the mall seemed to notice; it was like she had pulled me into our own little world, where no one could hear me or witness the horrors unfolding before me. The demonic faces of my victims were burned into my eyes as absolute fear and anguish pulsed through my head. This blood that was filling my organs was death, and it was swallowing me up. In my last moment, I didn't even have time to reflect on my corrupted life. I couldn't think about my future, if I had just thrown destiny out the window and walked away from the mall. No; in my last moment of life, I watched helplessly as a sinister smile appeared under the girl's curled lips. At last, the truth became clear: I was not the monster of this story. I was the victim.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nEdit: made a few small changes here and there", "It's funny how one's psychopathic tendencies can variate depending on the time of the year. In spring a bit of blood is all that is needed for satisfaction. Summer is the time of gore, and the more of it, the better. Autumn is better suited for psychological torture, and winter is perfect for slow death, in all its glorious forms.\n\nIn those summer days, when the dark set in, I always set out to make a few acquaintances. We would become very intimate by the end of the night and the next day I would relish in our little interactions. They were not so keen on what I would do with them, but one can't really complain when one's stomach blossoms like a bright red tulip with delicate organs spilling out everywhere.\n\nOn one such night, I had a very strange meeting. It was so strange that I had to find another vocation after that meeting. I say with no shame that now I am more a harmless wild monster rather than a murderous one. The person I met had such a power of influence that my very nature was changed.\n\nThat night, I was lurking about as usual. My acquaintance wasn't aware of my presence yet. He was walking around in the countryside, and seemed obviously distraught at something that had happened. He talked to himself like Hamlet, and what he said was rather odd.\n\n\"When people realize that life is only worth living because the other side has never been ventured, they admit to a restless fear that plagues dark nights and white enclosed rooms.\"\n\nThis man didn't really make any sense, but I figured he was a philosopher of some sort, which excited me, because philosophers for some reason always tend to scream more when I'm interacting with them.\n\n\"You there, dark bitter night, the fears that you hide provide me with comfort. Because the very fear the possesses me instills me with life. My heart pumps, my blood is boiling, and you remind me of how much that I can still feel something in my darkest times.\"\n\nHe spun around and gestured wildly, facing exactly the dark place where I stood. As he calm down, he seemed to be looking straight at me with a dejected expression. I considered going in there and ripping his guts right away, but I was curious at what else he was going in say.\n\n\"Yesterday I felt fear, today I am calm, I fear no death. Yesterday the ones I loved died tragically. Today my tragic fate is near.\"\n\nWith this he pulled out a gun and set it against his head. There was no way I came all the way to the middle of nowhere just to witness a suicide. No, I was going to first instill him with the fear of his life and then eat his brains. \n\nSo I rushed out to knock the gun out of his hand. Which I did. The next thing that happened I did not expect. \n\nThe man kicked me in the face.\n\nHe was quite a dextrous thing for someone that had his mass. Ashamed, I led out my most terrible piercing scream. He seemed to be taken aback, but stood where he did, no fear in his eyes.\n\nThat night was long and brutal, and we exchanged many blows. Me with all the horrific instruments my body could procure. Him with his legs and elbows and flying kicks. But for every move I made he was always one step ahead.\n\nAt the end of the night, I ended up battered and bruised. While the man did not even bleed, only his clothing was somewhat torn. He said something after our fight that would strike fear into my hideous heart for years to come.\n\n\"My name is Chuck Norris. Tonight, I have wrestled with the dark, and I have prevailed. Creature, by bestowing me with mortal fear, you have prevented my self destruction. Thank you.\"\n\n\n\n", "\"Slash. Kill. Stab.\" Really, is that what I've become? Is that what my after life is going to be forever? How long do I have to stay in these fucking woods sleeping in the damn abandonded mine and killing groups of horny teenagers? You'd think after the first sixty or seventy kids got gored and mutilated they'd stop wanting to treat my woods like a damn tourist trap. But noo, every three or four years, there's another group. God I fucking hate my existance. \n\nLook. There's another van load now. What does that say- \"Sugar land christian outreach ministries.\" Oh goody. More horny repressed teenagers out in the woods away from mommy and daddy for the first time. I guess now I have to go and slash, gut, and behead them in an escallating series of grotesque and horrific ways. Why can't I ever just drink scotch and read Shakespeare? I'm so sick of this lifestyle.\n\nOh well, back to work. Here comes the first two to break off from the group, a cute redhead and a black guy. Teenagers. Alright, they're kissing, they're groping, she's suddenly playing hard to get, now they're kissing. I'm waiting paitiently, Watching. Still waiting. Alright. There's the tits, that's my cue, and go-\"slash kill stab, slash kill stab, slash kill stab.\" \n\nBoom, two down, let's see- seven, no eight more to go. It's gonna be one of those weeks, well time to drag the bodies home and hide out for twelve hours until nighttime. I bet none of them even notices these two missing.\n\ncut scene:\nCindy lu a Chinese exchange student unpacks her suitcase and puts her clothes in the broken dusty dresser. It's her first week in america and she is trying to fit in. The church leader acts friendly to her, but aside from adam and Steve wanting to fuck her and crista and maggie making fun of her eyes and speech, she only had one friend, a redhead name Carissa. and of course she disappeared with jackson as soon as they showed up. \n\nThe plan was to fix up this cabin and run a summer camp here in the woods. For christian teens. It was what Cindy had signed up for and looked foreword to all year. Now she wanted to be anywhere but here.\n\nCindy decided to go for a walk in the woods. First she changed into her short shorts and white tank top. In the light of the full moon she walked down to the river. \n\ncut scene:\nI can see right away this girl is like no other I have ever seen. She is petite, and her eyes are skinny, like daggers. I haven't left the swamp in thirty years, and have never seen an asian this close up before. I am swelled up with a confusing warm feeling, and suddenly my thoughts make little sense. Am I aroused? For the first time? Is this love? Why do I want to have sex with this girl? I've never wanted sex before, I've always watched it and killed people halfway through. Never before have I stopped to think, what if I could have sex myself? What would it feel like? Why would anyone do it in the first place? I was always a little confused about that. Mother wasn't very specific.\n\nIn my moldy sweatpants a stirring occurred in my loins. My testicles, which had been useless and forgotten for so long, swelled up, and lifted. My scaly, puss infected penis shifted, and suddenly I had the urge to touch it. It had been a long time since I touched my own penis. \n\nMy god, what was wrong with me? When did I stop being human and turn into this mindless killing machine? When did I stop breathing and eating and pissing and reading and doing normal things? Am I dead? What am I?\n\nWow. Okay, this chicks got you all messed up, repeat the mantra,-\"slash. kill. stab. slash. kill. stab. slash. kill. stab.\" That's better now we can focus- holy shit she's naked. Look at those perfect breasts. Why would I ever want to cut them off? Why would I want to put a machete through her perfect coochie? Why am I even thinking this, It's time to hammer her skull, remember- \"slash. kill. stab. slash. kill. stab.\" Oh but I don't wanna. I wanna wine her and dine her and raise a litter of sociopathic monsters with her. Oh why am I so tormented? \n\nWhat is different about this girl? She is tender and fragile, and cute and prefect, and I think I'll go see if she'll kiss me, or maybe she'll want to drink scotch and read Shakespeare with me. I hope I can remember how to read. Maybe that will impress her." ]	3
	[WP] A god wants to take over your body in order to appear in the real world but can only do so if you allow it. State your terms.	[ "\"...This is, without a doubt,\" I started, glancing at the toke. \"The single, strangest trip I've ever been on.\"\n\"I can assure you, James,\" The flaming man said, with a smokey sigh. \"That this is not a dream, you are not 'tripping balls', and that I am, in fact, Hephaestus, God of the Forge.\"\n\"...Right.\" I started, glancing around at the barren, ashen wasteland. \"...And you're talking to me.\"\n\"Yes.\"\n\"...A guy who's blazed out of his mind in the basement of a pot junkie.\"\n\"Are you blazed now?\"\nI thought about it. \"...No.\"\n\"You see, I- and the other gods- are coming. But... we...\" He coughed awkwardly. \"We... need bodies.\"\n\"...What.\"\n\"You see,\" And I swear, the flaming man looked abashed, \"We need to inhabit human bodies to interact so... finely with humans.\"\n\"...Why?\"\n\"What?\"\n\"Why?\" I shrugged. \"I dunno, just... Write 'we're still here' on the moon or something.\"\n\"I don't think that would work.\"\n\"Besides, why should I say yes?\"\nHephaestus coughed. \"...We're prepared to bargain.\"\n\"...Really?\"\n\"Truly.\"\n\"...You're willing to pay me?\"\n\"I believe, and please correct me if I am wrong, that the arrangement would be to... well... 'Rent your body for our use'.\"\n\"...That... that makes me sound like a manwhore.\"\n\"It does, doesn't it.\"\nWe stood there for several minutes, before I sighed. \"...So... How does this work?\"\n\"Pardon?\"\n\"Do we write up a contract or something?\"\n\"If that would make you comfortable.\" He produced a paper, and a large pen.\nNeither burnt, so this was either a really, really wierd trip, or I honestly was talking to a god.\n\"Not permanent.\"\n\"Of course.\"\n\"And you're going to help me out. Financially.\"\n\"I'll speak with Zeus. I beleive it's possible.\"\n\"And romantically.\"\nPause. \"...That's... not quite what I do.\"\n\"...What, no love machines?\"\n\"That's Aphrodite's job.\"\n\"Damn.\"\n\"Quite.\"\n\"...Car?\"\n\"Lamborghini?\"\n\"...We're going to get along just fine.\"", "So, here I am...thinking about the most absurd contract that could'v ever been made in mankind's history.....Until yesterday, I was normal...In fact below normal, a depressed lonely teenager who curses people on a routine basis inside his mind...Heh! Now here I am sitting in my room thinking about probably the most important thing to ever happen in human history...Damn! it feels good to be important once in a while, but this important? I can FEEL the god-damn burden on my head.\n\nFor, god's sake man! A fucking GOD needs MY help to enter the world?...it is not about should I help him or not anymore.....it is about how I should use this to MY advantage...or atleast for the mankind's good.....damn those are huge things to think about.But yeah for a kid who grew up with animes and comics with superheroes this is not some completely alien thing but no doubt this is a large burden. I should think...QUICK...what will be my TERMS of the contract....to let him use MY body.....what can be the consequences?\n\nHere he is sitting in front of me, a god maybe even THE god...he refuses to reveal some details...how can I trust this man..this BEING. So, I have well thought out what I should say...it is about damn time I changed this rotten world....I changed humanity....rapes, murders, riots, cannibals not to forget the damned pedophiles and NECROPHILES!!...The scums of earth, some have become complete machines forgetting their humanity and some have become VIRUSES destroying whole damn society...but you know what? I can't change them! Not with just a TERM of a contract....it's about time I satisfied my life-long hunger....The thirst....the longing for KNOWLEDGE. I can't hold this wish anymore...the wish to know everything..EVERY-FUCKING-THING....living without that 'unsureness' in your mind. Oh! How calm it could be..to know everything and to be sure about everything...So, here we go.\n\nI have told him my wish...he smiled at me in that godly fashion described in all those stories that we heard as children. Wow! He accepted....well there we go again the same light that I saw blinding my eyes a day ago...but this time something's new....it's MUSIC! a pleasant one! a faint tone neverthless with that familiar aura. It's closing in on me ... wait ... WHAT.THE.FUCK! is that my....\"TOM!\" I hear a loud BANG!...well.... that's disappointing! a vivid feeling nonetheless...I snooze the alarm and proceed to my door to lead my ever depressing life of insignificance.", "Mike looks down at the table, drumming his fingers on the wood. \"No, that's not an acceptable offer.\"\n\nThe God looks at Mike, raising an eyebrow. \"Are you saying you don't want the honor of being my own vessel? You would still be allowed to live your elderlies in your own form-- if that is what you wish.\"\n\nMike shakes his head. \"You get more out of this than I do. How about we make a trade? You get to be me, I get to be you. Deal?\"\n\nGod considers the offer, and comes to the conclusion that, if anything went wrong, he could always use his divine powers to switch them back. He accepts the deal.\n\nA week later, God enters the Pennysworth Mental Hospital-- in a flurry of rage, yelling to the orderlies. \"He had tricked me!\" he yells, slamming his fist into the glass as the doctors simply shake their heads.", "I always needed this physical manifestation to be a believer. Every religious nut in the world told me I need 'faith,' and that god simply would never appear to me in a physical sense. How convenient. It always seemed to me that religions were just soo conveniently set up in a manner that allows them to be right without showing any proof to begin with. I always questioned....if god is real, why wouldn't he have come in a time where we could photograph him/her and use those as absolute proof for years to come. Surely a god of all knowledge, past, present and future could know in the future people wouldn't believe because of a lack of evidence. This aside, no amount of bullshit I've heard over the years could prepare me for the bullshit I was about to face.\n\n'Turn around, I'm here child.' \nI spin around faster than I have ever. I was not expecting anyone to be home and all the doors were locked, my roommates left for work an hour ago, I knew this within a split second and just about shit myself.\n\nAs I whip around I make eye contact and I instantly know I'm face to face with the being I've always reserved a spot in my heart for, just in case I found the evidence I needed.\n\n'It's time that we talk about why it's taken me 24 years to show you my existence.' \n\nNo dicking around huh?.. Well it appears god is as straightforward as I am.\n\n'I'm very happy to finally meet you and I will forever be indebted to you, you have satisfied the one and only need I had for believing in you.' I said. 'But of course you knew this, didn't you?'\n\n'I wouldn't take your assumption for granted as most of the things that were written about me were not true, but yes, I know what you are thinking and what you will think.'\n\n'What are some things that are not true about you?' As I get done asking my question god responds rather fast, not wasting any time anymore.\n\n'Son, my proposition for you is simple, let me use your body to show myself to the world.'\n\n'But why me?' \n\n'Let me use your body and you will know everything you could ever want and infinitely times more that you didn't even know was in existence.'\n\nMy search for knowledge was strong and for some reason I did always have this desire to be a martyr...plus this would be a huge fuck you to all the people who have wronged me....Suddenly my enemies are forced to either worship me or go to hell...win win.\n\n'Sure,' I say 'I would love to help you, can you help me with a couple things?'\n\n'I wouldn't see why not, I am asking quite a lot of you.' \n\n'I want what any person would want. My family and friends need to be fucking loaded with more money then I could even comprehend.' \n\n'That is of no trouble, your family and friends are in association with you and that will remain true. Your people will be world renowned as the main company of the prophet, you, aka me, aka god.'\n\n'I would sacrifice myself alone for the comfort of knowing my close ones are living a luxurious and comfortable life.' I am not done with my demands/requests....god clearly knows it, I mean let's get real, he knows everything.\n\n'Everyone I love must have a place in heaven, god, regardless of their sins.' \n\n'Son, you are asking me to break one of my rules,' God rebuttals.\n\nAs I am about to open my mouth to respond god breaks into a laughter, 'Son I am only joking, that's another one of those things that are simply made up.'\n\n'It kinda does make sense though that we would have thought otherwise.'\n\n'A divine being knowing all that is past, present and future couldn't create free will accurately. Why would I create someone knowing who they would become just to punish them for who they have become because I created them, that seems rather silly. Hell does not exist.' \n\nI'm shocked at this point. 'Hell does not exist? Then why are you coming down to show the world your existence?'\n\n'Can't a being just do something nice for the people he created?'\n\n'Sure,' I say...by this point I'm ready to just list the rest of my demands.\n\n'Well, okay god, I just ask for one more thing...'\n\n'There is no need to finish your sentence, I will give you access to your own universe to be a god over your own people.'\n\nFuuuuuuck...that's soo sick. \n\n'Well okay god, it looks like we've got ourselves an agreement, when are you taking over?'\n\n'Next sunday work for you?' God chuckles. 'By the time monday rolls around, every single person in the world will know your face as the face of god.'\n\nSounds amazing...At this point I realize I don't even need to talk out loud, dude can clearly read my mind. Well, as I think to myself, I suppose I'll be seeing you on Sunday then. \n\nI spend the next week as an opportunity to spend time with every single person I care about. I apologize to those that I've wronged and I tell those that I dislike that I hate the unholy fuck out of them, just so when I come back as God, they'll be miserable. \n\nI fall asleep for the last time on saturday night and the rest is history.", "\"Hi James, my name is Odin. I don't Know if you know who I am, but i used to sit at the top of the world. My eye reaching to every corner of the realms of man. Then, Fenrir came and the age of vikings came to an end. Of the ashes that were left your world was born, I think it was some 13 billion of your years ago. But, I digress! I'm here to ask you a favor. As my people awakens they need bodies, different laws of physics now you know. if you can give me yours it will bring your name great honor\" Dreams are weird sometimes, I have always been a lucid dreamer, but this felt different. It felt like this voice, this presence pierced me. Maybe sleep paralysis, never had that so I wouldn't know. Remind myself to check on the web when I wake up. Hell, if this thing took the time to crawl its ass out of my subconscious I can see what the fuck it wants. \"show yourself!\" five seconds, ten. Nothing. \"why would I give you my body?\" I woke up, damn always too soon. \n\nI checked the web, definitely not sleep paralysis. As my day went on, i saw letters, on the coffee machine, in my cereal. in the end, I had seen the words \"you may choose your price amongst all the things of this world\" as I fell asleep I had the sinking feeling the presence would be there once again, I knew what to tell him... The presence came swiftly and with full force, filling my mind\"have you chosen?\" I chuckled \"its not like you gave me a choice... There was an E on my boss' face!\" Was he... He was surprised. Wasn't this guy a god? his eye reaching all corners of the realm \"Ah! that, I wasn't sure you would get the messages trough the veil separating our reality from yours\" I Smiled, confidently, I Knew what to tell him. And I was sure he would find someone else to bother. \"I want you to befriend the ice giants\" \"NO WAY! AND HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?\" \"Um, there were vikings in a place called Norway about a thousand years ago\" Shock, this guy had a lot of emotion for a god. \"well fuck you James, I'm out of here\". \n\nI woke up from the strangest dream of my life, I reached over my wife's shoulder for my drinking horn. It was cold inside the low dirt hut, I would have to light the fireplace soon. As the memory of cars and spotify faded, James disappeared and Bjørn was born. From afar, a strangely familiar figure stood on a hill, beside him a large creature made of ice and snow. \"go in peace James\" He said, still getting comfortable in his new body.", "There's no place more absurd to hold a negotiation for a complete stranger to use your body than your own bathroom. There's no stranger more absurd to negotiate for your body than a god itself. This was the absurd situation I've found myself in upon stepping out of my nice shower.\n\n\"This. This was bad timing on my part, wasn't it?\" said the strange-looking shadow of a figure before me.\n\nIt could be worse. I could be in my underwear instead, pink doesn't really give off a professional tone. That would be much worse.\n\n\"Yeah, sorry about that. Now, in regards to the contract I've presented a few days ago,\" said the shadowy figure, \"I'm willing to talk this out if you are.\"\n\nCome on, can't I get my clothes on first?\n\n\"Right, I know you can't do the whole... thing,\" \n\nIt's kinda impossible, yeah.\n\nThe shadow moves to the mirror, staring back at me with a body much like my own, except for the peculiar set of eyes. They're a strange shade of yellow, the color of gold if it could rust, giving off a rustic and majestic feel, an odd sight to behold.\n\n\"Tell you what, how about I fix that little problem of yours and I get your body. I'll throw you a bone and throw in a healing factor when I leave in a couple of decades.\"\n\nI shake my head. As much as I'd like to get my issue resolved, the deal's a bit too... one-sided for the \"god\" as it calls itself.\n\n\"You're killing me here, kiddo!\" The shadow groans, moving away from the mirror and crawling around on walls. \"Fine fine, I'll have to stay for the couple of decades and you get to coexist alongside me. You get input from me and I'll give you some help with whatever the hell it is you do. Sound good?\"\n\nHonestly, the deal could be a little better. I think I'll hold out for a bit.\n\n\"What do you mean no?! This is literally the best possible deal you can ge- what is this?\" It looks over at the folded clothes in my hands as I stare at the figure with a smirk on my lips.\n\n\"... Ugh. Fine. It's a deal then.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Get up, miss.\" A handsome, masculine figure looks down on me as I open my eyes to bright morning light. \"His\" teeth are bared and the yellow eyes harbor a violent look of rage, contrasting with his warm voice and polite tone.\n\n\"Good morning!\" I say in delight, a bit excited of the events of last night. \"And what do we have in mind today, Mammon?\"\n\n\"There's converting the masses, blasting the heretics, and you have school in thirty minutes. Breakfast is on the table and I packed your lunch, m'am.\" The god says to me.\n\n\"Come inside anytime you want, just don't take me from behind, we have a long day today.\" I smile crooking a finger at him absentmindedly as I look out the window.\n\n\"Innuendos are unbecoming of you, miss.\" My butler snaps before reverting back to his calm self.\n\nI sing a small tune to myself to celebrate the one month anniversary of when I made a deal with a god for two valuable prizes. A loving man-slave to serve me hand and foot...\n\n\"Miss, make haste, we have twenty-five minutes!\" A voice in my head beckons.\n\n\"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!\" I think back to it.\n\n...And a voice to call my own.\n", "\"My name is Daisy. You have to keep my name. All my things have daisies on them.\" I stroked the cat that wound its way around my feet. I was talking to a man who had found me here in the yard, and told me in an echo-y voice that it was time to manifest and declare his dominion over the world. He would take over my body and be me instead of me. I thought this was funny, because he was a tall man, only shimmery and I could see through him sometimes.\n\n\"And when Mommy tells us to go to bed, you have to go. Or there's fruit for breakfast instead of coco puffs. I like coco puffs.\"\n\n\"No mortal can bend me to their will.\"\n\n\"Except at bedtime.\" I insisted. \"Because of the breakfast fruit. Sometimes it's only apple slices, too.\" I struggled to convey the seriousness of the situation. \"Instead of coco puffs.\" I finished, in case he had missed the point.\n\n\"Mortal, you have misread my intent. You will not be there. I will devour your soul. Your reward will be the honour of manifesting my divine presence.\"\n\n\"You said I could have wishes. You have to still be Daisy and go to bed on time and do as you're told.\" I said, sternly, as the cat tried to rub against the man's legs, and then ran off, hissing. \"And, when you go away and I come back, my room has to be tidy and … and … \" I was starting to get the hang of this wishing thing … \"you can't wear my sunflower socks, only the daisy ones.\"\n\n\"You will not come back. You will be cast into the void.\"\n\n\"But only for … three days. No, a week.\" I conceded. \"You can be a manifest for a week, if you promise not to tell, and if you're good.\"\n\n\"I must tell of my arrival. I will sound my presence in every ear, so they bow to the name Asurogoth.\"\n\n\"DAISY.\" I scolded him, wondering if he had been paying any attention at all. \"Also, you can play with Freddie, but not let him have my things. He breaks them and mommy never tells him off.\"\n\nThe manifest man looked at me, all shimmery and I think a little bit angry like when I won't go to bed at first until Mommy tells me about the breakfast fruit. After a little while, he talked again.\n\n\"I can accomplish all I need in seven days. I will return you from the void, if these are your terms. To be Daisy. To go to bed when told, in exchange for … coco puffs. Keep your room tidy and only wear the daisy socks. Do not let Freddie have your things to break.\"\n\nI nodded along.\n\nI don't remember much about what happened next. Mommy seemed very glad and hugged me and said she was worried I wouldn't get back to 'my old self', and I had to talk to a nice lady. Freddie hides in his room and won't touch my things even if I give them to him. I can have all the coco puffs I want. I looked in the paper and on the television to see if I had been a manifest all over the world, but there was nothing. Mommy keeps telling me to go to bed and rest.\n\nMy daisy socks are missing." ]	7
	[wp] A teen realizes that his mom is a supervillain and his dad is a superhero but that they don't know eachothers secret.	[ "Dad was always helping people, and mom was always breaking things. I probably should have seen this coming. There were always little hints. Seeing both of them sneak out at night, finding dad’s cape in the laundry, finding the missing president tied up in our basement.\n\n It wasn’t until the big battle broke out that I finally clued in. The city’s strongest superhero was fighting the city’s worst supervillain in an effort to stop the giant death ray pointed at the city. I was watching the battle live on T.V. when I noticed the hero’s watch. It was the same watch I had given dad for father’s day. The closer I looked, the more I realized what an idiot I had been. The hero’s mask barely covered his cheekbones! How could I not have recognized him? That was my old man alright. \n\nThen who was the villain? Did I know her too? Was it a neighbour? A teacher?... Oh great! It was mom. That’s when I really started freaking out. Mom and dad loved each other, why were they trying to kill each other? And then it dawned on me.\n\n They didn’t know.", "The entire school was in a frantic rush. Teachers, student, and the rest of the staff all rushed around the clotted hallways in a disorganized mess. The adults who remained functional enough to give any kind of direction wore the mix of confusion and panic on their faces openly. Their wild finger pointing and yelling of directions did little to calm myself or my peers down. Too many of us had already seen some of our less resilient teachers fall to tears when the announcement came over the loud speakers.\n\n\"An Exform Creation has been spotted in downtown New Bristol. Teachers and staff, please begin to evacuate students in accordance with our safety protocols. Buses are already out front to take students home. We will provide more information as we receive it.\"\n\nMy teacher, Mrs. Fletcher had been one of those less resilient teachers. I had watched the blood drain from her face and her jaw go slack as the speaker finished its announcement with a buzz and a click. She fell back into her seat staring off into nothing when Melissa voiced the questions we were all thinking.\n\n\"Mrs. Fletcher? I don't understand what's going on? Are we supposed to be going?\"\nMrs. Fletcher shifted her eyes to Melissa with an absent, yet wide-eyed look. We all stared back not sure what would come next. She gave a dull wave at the loud speaker.\n\n\"It said go,” she mumbled in shock.\n\nI peered around at the rest of my unmoving class before deciding that someone had to get things moving. I stood up and grabbed my bag which began our rush from our room into the already messy rush in the halls. As I looked back once more at Mrs. Fletcher though the rest of my class I watched her lean forward and bury her face in her hands. \n\nThe chaotic evacuation of the high school went by in a blur. A half hour later, I was walking up my long driveway reviewing the mornings events in a daze. We all knew what Exforms and Exform Creations were. Exforms were people with the EXtrordinary ability to FORM creatures through the use of various medium. They were the Exforms, and they had their Creations. The world might have never known about the source of the Creations if a sculptor and cartoonist had never come forward to reveal themselves as Exforms in the hope of helping the world learn how to best defend themselves. They showed the world on live TV how being an Exform worked and promised they had no involvement in the violence that was the norm for most Exform Creation appearances.\n\nAs the world began to learn to defend itself, the Exform Creatons kept coming. They varied in size and shape and power, but never their intention, and never more than one at a time. Then one day an Exform Creation had been released on the outskirts of Chicago. Evacuations had begun and were going according to protocol until a second Creation appeared. News reporters had used lines like, “All of Chicago could be lost today,” and “God save us all.” That was until the second Creation, after a long a brutal battle, destroyed the first. At the time it was an unprecedented event, but one that would become all but commonplace in the years to come.\n\n Then their appearances had stopped 20 years ago without warning or explanation. I had only ever seen them on the internet. I knew from experience that most teenagers, who had never had to live with the threat of an Exform attack, harbored some kind of interest in the amazing people and their creations. I kept my interest as much of a secret as possible, again like most kids, to not bring up any bad old memories of homes lost or people dead that our parents had. If my parents didn’t want to talk about it with me, I didn’t want to talk about it with them. \n\nI opened the doors of our small suburban home and went inside expecting to see my parents both glued to the TV. While the TV was indeed showing video of the Exform Creations attack on New Bristol, I rushed past it to find my mother sitting in her studio painting. She poked her head out from behind her canvas and smiled at me. \n\n“Oh thank goodness you are home!” She exclaimed. Her levity despite the situation threw me off guard. While she never showed me anything but love, my mother had always been more serious in nature than my typically jovial father. That’s not so say that each didn’t exhibit a full range of emotions, but they each tended to stay on their end of the spectrum. They always said that they balanced each other nicely, and everyone around them, myself included, would have had to agree. My mothers pragmatic nature kept my dads silliness in check, and in turn his silliness bought the warmth in my mom to the surface. Still With the first Exform Creation showing up in 20 years I had no idea how she could be so relaxed. As I moved into her studio, I looked around again at the paintings on her walls. Her art had always fascinated me in a macabre way. Most of it was gloomy scenery that was then scanned and used on horror story book covers,or dark abstractions that “art snobs” would buy and put up in what I assumed to be poorly lit apartments. \n\n I had always liked watching her work when she let me. I used to watch the bold lines mark the page one after another until they reached their hauntingly beautiful final forms. “The power is in my lines,” She would always say. It was an odd saying especially in the way she muttered it under her breath as she worked. She was working on a new piece from the one I had last seen on her easel. The last one had been a strange change of pace for her. The focus had been an ominous looking creature, black with white markings, and grotesque features. While the subject had been different, her demeanor during its creation had been the real difference. My mother always enjoyed painting, but with this latest one, I would hear her chuckling lightly as it took form on her canvas. While she fully enjoyed making her paintings, I rarely heard anything from her while she worked, and when I did, I can’t remember it ever being laughter.\n \n“Where is the last one?” I asked curiously. \n\n“Finished it.” She said turning back to the easel and selecting a brush. I looked around and couldn’t see it. Without looking at me she pointed to the corner of the room . I walked over and held up the frame mounted canvas. Now there was nothing but black paint where the beautiful but dark creature had been before. \n\n“What happened to it?” I asked. \n\n“Huh?” She turned to me and saw the confused look on my face as I pointed my finger at the black place where the creature used to be.\n \n“Oh.” She said absently, “Spilled paint.”\n\nI was about to protest about the lack of sense that made because of her easel, when the front door burst open and my dad came in. I inwardly chided myself for having not even asked my mom where he had been in the few minutes I had been home. With all the events of this morning, I knew I wasn’t operating at full capacity, but not asking after my dad, especially given his line of work, was shameful.\n \nHe paused in the open doorway and let out a sigh as he hung his head in relief. \n“Thank God you are both safe he said.”\n\n He ran to me and gave me a long hug before kissing my mom . His black jacket with E.C.F emblazoned brightly across the back swished loudly against itself as he stepped back and took a look at us. The Exform Containment Force employed my dad as a temp agent. The odd title was even more odd due to the fact that he had “temped” there for the last 25 years. While the ECF had become increasingly irrelevant in the past 20 years, the devastation that Exform Creations had caused made the vast majority of people reluctant to see it dissolved, and so it wasn’t.\n \n“I’m so sorry but I have to go,” he said quickly. “I just left some important things here and then I have to be on scene.” My stomach lurched as I realized for the first time that my dad would be going into New Bristol to assist in whatever way he could rather than staying in the potential safety of our home. Despite him being with the ECF for so long, I had never experienced him actually having to do anything dangerous.\n \nI hear him clattering around upstairs as I ran this all through my head. I walked absently to the couch and sat down to keep my knees from falling out from underneath me. He came downstairs with a mess of papers sticking out from a briefcase I had never seen him use before. He kissed my mom who had been sitting quietly in her chair. “I love you and I will be fine,” he said quietly. “I know you will,” she returned looking up at him. “I’m sure of it.”\n \nI felt him kiss the top of my head as headed for the door muttering something about “his lines”. I looked up from the ground to say something, but the image on the TV finally caught my eye and held it. I noticed the Creation on the TV for the first time. It was black and white and grotesque. Black and white and grotesque. I chanced a quick glance back at my mom who had disappeared back behind her easel. “Dad!” I yelled, “wait!” I needed to tell him the sickening revelation I had just had, but the door had just shut behind him. One of the pieces of paper that had been poking from his briefcase had blown loose as the door shut and I grabbed it as I raced to try to tell him what I discovered. As I looked down at the page I saw the hastily written words on it begin to disappear line by line, quickly fading off of the page. Line by line. I glimpsed the last few words before they faded away. “…wings of shining light.” I heard the car pull out of the driveway and I turned back to the TV Just as the second Creation appeared. I stared in shock as the last part of it took shape. Two shining wings of light…\n", "\"Mum?\" I broke the silence. That desperate word floated into the empty space between us. \n\nShe looked at me with such disgust that I felt shame. It wasn't an overly dramatic look, but it was a look that said alot. A look that as her son, I have seen many times. Every time it breaks me. Tears me to shreads inside. You'd think by now I'd be use to it, would have built up some type of tolerance or indifference to it. nope.\n\n\"What are you doing in here? Sometimes I wonder how you'd survive once you leave this house.\" she spat up at me. \n\n\"Dad wanted to know if you're going to have dinner with us..\" \n\nShe laughed. But it wasnt warm like it used to be.\n\nShe always gets dark when she's working on her mysterious hobbies in the basement. She broods and becomes highly irritable when interrupted.\n\nShe returns to her work without saying a word. But she's said everything. She's told me she'd rather be here on her hobby then up eating as a family with us.\n\nfine, fuck her than.\n\nSulking I storm up the staircase. All I want is for that bitch to stop being so fucking bi-polar and act how she did before she got caught up with her old hobbies again. Eat at the dinner table like a normal family.\n\nEyes watering a bit, i rub them with my arm in protest of displaying my emotions.\n\nBarging into the kitchen, I miss seeing the knife holder onto the edge of the bench. I turn in my mood and accidentally send them flying.\n\noh god..\n\nIt's like time froze or at least it almost did. \n\nKnives swim through the air on a direct path to my dad. The best dad in the world. \n \nI think how could such a loving father ever fall in love with that creature in the basement.\n\nMy heart beats dangerously at my chest in panic.\n\nThen it happened.\n\nMy dad's eyes caught a glimpse of his death, and then he was...\n\nI don't know how to describe it. It was elegant, like he was dancing. But it was beautiful, almost ethereal. He danced around and between the knives like time was insignificant to him.\n\nEven bigger I realised I could see this all, how could I see time slow down and him move through them.\n\nKnives clatter onto the floor behind my father.\n\nStanding in silence we look at each other.\n\nI stand in awe.\n\nHe stares back in... fear?\n\nRealisation crashes over me. My father is The Blur.\n\nOH MY GOD MY WONDERFUL FATHER IS A HERO TO OTHERS!\n\n\"The blur?\" I whisper it, incase if i say it too loud, it might break the spell.\n\nHe nods hesitantly. \"For your safety and your mothers you can't tell anyone, even she doesn't know.\"\n\n\"Mum doesn't know?!!!\" I exclaim as loud as I dare.\n\nThis is exciting. A real secret between us. Something he can depend on me for.\n\nHe shakes his head. Walking to me he says fearfully \"you could see it all in slow motion..?\"\n\nI nod back.\n\nHe looks devastated, almost on the verge of tears \"I'm so sorry Luke, it must be genetic.\"\n\nSuddenly he hugs me, I begin to worry \"dad why are you scared? Am I going to die?\"\n\n\"No No, you're perfectly healthy, in fact you're unlikely to ever get ill with the strength and speed of your immune system if it's like mine.\" he pauses \"I'm scared cause it means you're now a threat to The Conjurer.\"\n\nDread envelops me. Cold dark fear blankets my entire body and I shiver.\nThe conjurer is in the news every week. No one knows if its a he, a she or even a human. All I know is that the conjurer is a twisted being that steals and shows the smallest regard to life and a high regard for suffering.\n\nThe conjurer can make things appear out of nothing, dark things. Cruel beings do it's bidding and cause suffering everywhere. \n\nIt's known that the only two people to be able to face it in battle and have a good chance of winning is, The Blur with his gift of speed and time control, and the Winged Lady. \n\nTwo months ago the winged lady was..stopped. Her wings were found tattered and separate from her body hanging as a symbol of triumph from the city hall. The winged lady was found cold, grey and dead at the entrance. \n\nIf Dad is the only thing that can stop the conjurer he could die out there. \n\nOh god I've got his abilities am I gonna have to help him. Is it my obligation for this curse?\n\nI can't handle this, I rush down to the basement to escape my thoughts.\n\nMy heart is slamming inside my chest and it happens...\n\nThe entire world stops, I can hear it, feel it... I walk down the stairs at my own pace but i can feel the world be still and understand that if anyone could even see me move right now it would be a blur or nothing.\n\nI step onto the floor of the basement to see my mum absent from her workbench.\n\nBut the door to her second study is ajar.\n\nI've never been in her second study, let alone a few steps in the first room. I don't think dad has either.\n\nSomething feels off as I approach the door, i can feel an energy.. and it's cold.\n\nMy hearts beating faster, kinda painful now its so fast. \n\nI feel like a breath of time floating in the air. \n\nI enter the room and cold fear rises up my neck.\n\nMy mother is at a table looking right at me. Her eyes are black and glossy.\n\nAfter a quick gasp I realise she's frozen in time and looking past me.\n\nBut that wasn't what scares me. It wasn't what filled me with horror and drowned me in nightmares.\n\nMy mother is wearing the gown of The Conjurer, her hands are spread out in front of her with smoke billowing out onto the table. The smoke has half formed into some type of dark creature. \n\nTears start pouring down my cheeks.\n\nThe person my Dad loves the most, the person I try hardest to impress is standing in front of me as the most hated and feared of us both. \n\nMy mother is The Conjurer.\n\nI laugh darkly at the irony that both of them despise each other yet fell in love and have know idea who the other person is.\n\nStepping forward in sombre confidence, knowing time is still for the moment, I curiously reach out and touch the smoke to feel its unnatural texture.\n\nCold sprints across my palm and up my arm. \n\nPanic consumes me and I feel my control of time slipping. The cold hits me and fills my body.\n\nI'm afraid.\n\nI'm standing in the dark and i look in the mirror. \n\nHow odd...\n\nIt feels like i'm looking at my reflection for the first time in my life.\n\nUnderstanding overwhelms me.\n\nI understand the desire of the smoke, I understand its beauty, it's power, it's intentions.\n\nTime slowly slips back into real time and the smoke drifts into the creature my mother's desires.\n\nMy mother's eyes widen in an expression I have never seen on her before.\n\nFear.\n\nShe turns her head and sees me.\n\nShocked she yells \"LUKE! what are you doing here?\"\n\n\"oh you stupid boy! you were never supposed to know who I was. They'll come for you now. The Blurr and whatever new posse he pulls together. He will come in here and disregard your pathetic innocence and he will slay you. Along with me He will slay you for sharing my dna.\" She stares at me both angrily and sympathetically.\n\nThe sympathy from her confuses me. For the first time in my life I see humanity in my mother and her love and protection for me. But it is the exact moment i discover she is the world's cruelest villain.\n\n\"Don't look at me like that.. You know nothing, there is more to my enchantments and power of the dark than you will know. I thought you'd inherit it. But all you've inherited is you father's soft affection.\"\n\nI laugh at her\n\nAnger erupts in me. Coldness wraps itself around my soul.\n\nMy eyes gloss over in understanding and dark black hands drift to my mother and knock her over.\n\nRising from the dark shadows of her study floor, She smiles at me.\n\nwarmly I smile back.\n\n\"My son has finally arrived.\"\n", "\"Ben, sweetie, why don't you take a beer out to your dad in the garage?\" Mom called from the kitchen. \"Looks like he's working really hard on that old car today.\" \n\n\"Give me a second!\" I called back. \"I've just gotta kill a couple more of these guys.\" \n\nWith a few more jerks of the controller, my enemies were down, and I reluctantly shuffled into the kitchen. Mom was standing over the sink, wearing the most embarrassing item of clothing in the world. I don't know why 6 year old me thought it was a good decision to finger paint all over her white pants, but Mom made the way worse decision to continue wearing them sometimes.\n\n\"You playing that assassins game again?\" Mom asked casually. \n\n\"Yeah, I'm getting pretty good,\" I replied. \"Do I have to go out there? He always goes off on that time he fixed up a car with his dad, and it's just awkward.\" \n\nMom laughed and ruffled my hair. \n\n\"You think everything's awkward,\" she told me. \"Come on, I've got all these dishes to finish.\" \n\nMom grinned as I sighed loudly and headed out to the garage, beer bottle in hand. \n\nThe bottle slipped from my fingers when I stepped into the garage, but I somehow managed to save it. \n\nDad -- yeah, MY dad -- was balancing that old dump of a car on his left pinky with his tools in his right hand. \n\n\"Dad?\" I said hesitantly. \n\nHe turned around abruptly, nearly dropping a car as easily as I had just nearly dropped a bottle. \n\n\"Hey Ben!\" Dad exclaimed, obviously nervous. \"Didn't see you there!\" \n\nHe put the car down gently before turning toward me again. I sat down on the steps of the garage, wishing the beer bottle was for me. \n\n\"How did y--\" I began. \n\n\"I'm sure you have a lot of questions,\" Dad said, cutting me off. \"I didn't mean to keep it a secret for this long - it's just, I met your mom, we had you... My entire life just changed so fast.\" \n\nI didn't know what to say, but I felt words begin to spill out of my mouth. \n\n\"Were you part of the Age of Heroes?\" I blurted out. \n\nDad joined me on the step, sighing. \n\n\"I'm sure you've heard of Strong-Man,\" he shrugged. \n\nI fought to stifle my snort. \n\n\"Don't give me that look!\" Dad laughed. \"I was 13 when I came up with the name, alright?\" \n\n\"Whatever, man,\" I told him, laughing too now. \n\nSoon, Dad became serious again. \n\n\"I'm sorry to spring this on you, Ben,\" he said. \"I'm sure you need some time to think about this. We can talk about it later. Your mother doesn't know. I gave up the life to have a family - I guess I never thought they would find out. For now, we can keep it our secret, right?\" \n\nHe took the beer bottle from me and gave me a reassuring pat on the back. I nodded numbly before heading back inside. How could he think I wasn't going to tell Mom? How could he hide something like this from us for so long? \n\nWhen I got back to the kitchen, however, Mom wasn't there. It looked exactly as I had left it, dirty dishes and all. I called for her around the house to no avail. Great, of course she would disappear right when I need to tell her the most important discovery of my life. \n\nI went into the living room and flopped onto the couch - my trusty TV could always be counted on to distract me. The news channel was on, and apparently there was some attempt at a breakout going on in the high security prison downtown. \n\n\"The attackers are all disguised, but there look to be some familiar villains from the bygone Age of Heroes!\" the reporter said. \"Looks like those supervillains lucky enough to survive that era are coming out in full force to break out their friends!\" \n\nI thought about alerting Dad - wouldn't he want to do something about it? Then again, despite me being alive for the past 16 years, the man had just thought to tell me that he was a superhero. And even that was because I had caught him using his powers. I didn't owe him anything. \n\nSuddenly, part of the screen caught my eye and I looked up. The coverage was honing in on the attackers now - there were seven of them, but I was only looking at one. \n\nShe was running, literally in midair, dodging attacks and taking down anyone in her way. It was an amazing display of aerial abilities, especially since those were usually a superhero power. Still, that wasn't what I was looking at. The woman - the supervillain - was wearing the most embarrassing pants in the world. The pants that 6 year old me had fingerpainted all over. The pants that I had seen Mom wearing just minutes ago. \n\nI slumped down even further in my seat. Who was the right person to turn to in a situation like this? How much did my grandparents know? My aunts and my uncles? My parents' friends? How could they have even ended up together? What was going to happen if they each found out? \n\nShaking these questions out of my head, I turned my videogame back on. Even if nobody else in this household was going to act normal, I damned well could. " ]	4
	[WP] The time has finally come to fake your death.	[ "I need a new life.\n\nThis one, I started it wrong, I need to start over, make better decisions.\n\nI tried to love her, but I tried too hard.\n\nHe abandoned me, he's come back, but I reject him.\n\nMy house, a cold, old home filled with hypocrites and depression.\n\nTo be burdened with debt when I try to become something.\n\nI see my future plummet in front of my face like the tears from my eyes.\n\nMy hopes and dreams become dim and dark. But I see light, a light I need to follow, a light that'll follow me to a new life. I need to end this one though, to start another.\n\nThe cool breeze runs through my hair as I look down the cliff, the waves crashing into the rocks. \n\nIt's time.\n\nThere's nothing left for me but pain and suffering, I need and yearn for happiness, but once I have it, it leaves me again and again. It's time to start over and become a man that I should have become.\n\nI put the brick on the gas pedal and I see my car plummet down into the jagged rocks and rolling tides. It sinking into the ocean. A tear rolls down my cheek to follow the car, dripping down to it's watery brethren. \n\nPutting my past behind me, I walk away, into the future.", "\"I love you baby,\" I said to no one. \"I love you so much. I'm going to miss you. I'm sorry.\"\n\n No one was around to hear. No one to feel sorry for me.\n\n\"I don't want to do this, believe me, I don't. All I ever wanted was to settle down with you and live my life--our life.\" I continued, the walls of the dark hotel room reflecting my sobs in every direction. \n\n\"But we can't do that. We can't do that and it's all completely FUCKED!\" I shouted, finally overcome by the stream of tears that my eyelids were holding back. I toppled over to one side and buried my face in the sheets of the bed, snot and tears invading my face as I cried mercilessly. The smell of dryer sheets flooded my nose with each sharp involuntary gasp.\n\nI woke up the next morning with the crumpled picture of my girlfriend clutched to my chest. She was perfect in every sense of the word. Tall, long legs, brunette, the biggest and brightest brown eyes I'd ever seen. On top of that, she was the most caring and compassionate creature to have ever walked the earth. She was everything I could have ever asked for, but none of that mattered now. I couldn't go back to that life. It was over. A rogue tear from the previous night escaped through my right eye.\n\nI looked at the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock that was resting on the dresser across the room. 7:43. I had to be dressed and ready for the pickup by 8:15, otherwise the entire plan would fall apart and my family would pay the consequences. \n\nI showered and dressed before riding the elevator to the hotel's underground parking garage. 8:05. The nerves started to set in when the time came and the car was nowhere to be found. Did I miss it? No, surely not. I'd know it simply from the sound of the engine. Was my watch off? No. No it was perfectly accurate, I knew that for a fact. There was no mistaking it, the car was nowhere to be found. A knot began to grow in my gut until I was nearly doubled over with my stomach contents on the ground in front of me and splattered on my shoes. Moments before I hurled, a glossy black Ford Fusion pulled into the garage. I turned and quickly walked over to the waiting car.\n\n\"Goddamnit Tommy you scared the living piss out of me!\" I shouted as I opened the door, my voice echoing off the concrete walls of the empty garage. You could hear the panic in the tone of my words.\n\n\"Sorry 'bout that,\" he said as he raked his fingers through his thinning hair, \"some fucking idiot spun out on the highway, traffic was backed up for miles.\"\n\n\"Sorry won't mean a goddamn thing when every person I've ever loved has a bullet hole in their fucking skull Tommy.\" I snarled at him.\n\nTommy didn't answer.\n\nI took a deep breath and sighed loudly. \"I'm sorry Tom. I'm a bag of nerves. That wasn't fair of me,\" I said.\n\n\"It's alright Nick, I understand. Don't worry about it, everything's gonna work out,\" Tommy said to me, nearly relieving me of worry for a split second.\n\n\"Alright let's fucking do this, there's no turning back now,\" I said, trying to convince both Tommy and myself that I was ready to go through with the plan, though I wasn't very believable.\n\n\"Okay. This won't go over smoothly, I'm warning you right now,\" he explained, \"shit can and will hit the fan at any moment.\"\n\n\"I know, I'm prepared.\" I said.\n\n\"Alright, just making sure, can't have you freaking out on me in the middle of this all.\" He said jokingly. Somehow he was able to find humor in a situation like this. I don't know if this made me incredibly angry or incredibly envious. Either way I didn't like it.\n\nWe'd been driving for nearly 3 hours when we started our ascent into the snowcapped mountains.\n\n\"When should I expect to see myself on the news?\" I asked after nearly 2 hours of silence.\n\n\"Christ you scared me, I thought you were asleep. Uhh, I'd say about 4 more hours. We'll be at the cabin by then.\" He said as he stared out the windshield.\n\n\"Alright. Can we stop next chance we get? I've gotta piss like a racehorse.\" I said while somehow managing a small chuckle.\n\n\"No, fuck no, are you crazy?\" He asked while looking at me as if I were from another planet.\n\n\"Why the hell not?\" I inquired.\n\n\"We can't leave any kind of trail. No one can have any clue, that means staying out of stores. We can stop when we get into the woods in about 45 minutes.\" Tom explained with a slightly annoyed tone.\n\n\"Ok, just step on it will ya?\" I asked him.\n\n\"I'll do my best.\" He said.\n\nAround a half hour later we stopped the car and got out to stretch and relieve ourselves. The icy air felt like needles against my exposed skin. I was severely ill-prepared for this harsh weather. We got back in the car and cranked the heater for the next 2 and a half hours until we got to the cabin deep in the forest.\n\n\"Welp. There she is. It's not much, but it'll keep you warm and hidden for a while. Electricity, wood stove, freezer full of food, water heater, a TV that'll pick up the basic channels so you'll be able to see the news coverage. Let's get you settled in.\" He said as we walked up the gravel driveway.\n\n\"It'll do, it'll certainly do. Thank you, Tom. Thank you so much, you're saving lives, really.\" I said to him, trying to make him understand how appreciative I was.\n\n\"It's nothing, least I can do.\" He said with a slight grin, clearly enjoying my praise.\n\nAfter Tommy fumbled with the lock for a minute or two, we stepped into the cabin and immediately started getting the wood stove lit so we could thaw ourselves out. We got the stove lit and huddled around it for nearly an hour. Tommy looked at his watch and nodded at me. He didn't have to speak, we both knew.\n\n\"Flip on the TV, channel 12.\" He ordered.\n\nI worked the buttons on the small TV until I landed on the correct channel. The signal was very fuzzy, but it would have to do. The old TV and fuzzy signal brought me back to childhood memories of watching my favorite shows every Saturday morning with my brother and sister. It wasn't long until I was on the verge of tears again. Thankfully I was distracted from my own thoughts when a breaking news alert came on the screen.\n\n\"Please excuse the interruption,\" the news anchor began, \"we interrupt your program to report a multi-car collision that occurred just minutes ago. We're hearing reports of one fatality and several other injuries. We'll have more for you later tonight on your 5 o'clock news, right here on Channel 12: KMPH News.\"\n\nThe anchor finished speaking, gave a cheesy smile, and then the channel returned to its original program: some shitty old documentary about the Gambino Crime Family.\n\n\"Well, that's it I suppose, isn't it?\" Tommy said to me, filling the thin air with his raspy voice.\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah I guess that's it.\" I said breathlessly.\n\nIt all felt very surreal. I was dead. For all intents and purposes, I was dead. Gone. Wiped clean off the face of the earth.\n\nTommy leaned over to me and patted me on the back, as if he expected that to help cheer me up or something. He then got up and started for the kitchen.\n\n\"I'm gonna brew up some coffee to keep me awake for the drive back down the hill. Want some?\" He asked as he rummaged through the cabinets for the coffee grounds and filter papers.\n\n\"No. Thank you.\" I said, still trying to cope with my death.\n\n\"Suit yourself then. I'm gonna be out of here in 15 minutes just so you know.\" He informed me.\n\n\"Okay.\" I replied.\n\nSilence for the next 10 minutes. I sat in front of the TV staring at the wall behind it, the air attacking my open eyes with millions of microscopic daggers.\n\n\"Alright Nick, I'm gonna head out. I'll be back every other weekend with more food and supplies. Otherwise you're on your own. Think you'll be ok?\" Tommy said to me as he shoved his arms in his heavy coat.\n\n\"I'll be fine.\" I lied.\n\n\"Okay.\" he said, and he turned and started to unlatch the door. He paused and thought for a second. \"And Nick?\" he said.\n\n\"Yeah Tom?\" I replied.\n\n\"You did the right thing. I know you did. You got caught up with the wrong people and you did what you had to do to protect your family. I'm proud of you Nick, really.\" Tommy said with his back turned to me.\n\n\"Thank you Tom, I appreciate it. I'll see you in two weeks I guess.\" I responded.\n\n\"Seeya man.\" he said as he opened the door and slammed it behind him.\n\nI listened as he started his car and backed out of the driveway, snow, ice, and gravel crunching beneath the tires. He honked as he accelerated away from the cabin.\n\nNow I was truly alone. The sound of the news anchor's voice replayed in my head over and over again. \"One fatality.\" Me. I couldn't decide which was worse: knowing that I'd never be able to go back to my life, to the people I loved, or knowing how much pain I'd just caused all of my loved ones. Certainly the latter. I could picture my girlfriend crying when she received the grim news. I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming amount of guilt. All my emotions came out at once and I was reduced to a sobbing mess for the second time in 24 hours.\n\nI fell asleep on the hard wood floor near the stove with the crumpled picture of my beautiful girlfriend clutched to my chest. I awoke the next morning and I found myself wishing that I had been the one in that car the day before. I'd lost my family, my girlfriend, my will to live. There was no point in any of it anymore. The only thing that kept me from ending it all was the small glimmer of hope that I could one day return to my life and finally settle down and start my family with the most perfect girl I could ever ask for.\n\n(Let me know what you think! It's my first time ever trying this, I feel like I did really well but also really terribly at the same time. Be perfectly honest with me so I can improve! Thank you!)", "\"This has to be well executed.\" I whispered into the walkie-talkie.\n\n\"Gotcha. But speaking as your friend, are you sure this is the right way to approach the issue with her?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I don't have much of a choice left. It's the only way. I need to do this right.\"\n\nI tied the rope around my waist and looked across the bridge. John held up a peace sign to confirm that he's ready to go. I took my shoes off and placed my note under them. Letting out a long, heavy sigh, I turned around and leaned back against the rail. A few cars drove by and honked at me. The drivers carried terrified expressions on their faces. Just what I needed, I thought to myself.\n\n\"Well we got our witnesses. Now just one last step.\"\n\nI pulled out my phone and dialed my girlfriend's number. After a few beeps, a soft cough echoed from the other side of the call.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Heather it's me. I need to let you know that I love you, very, very much.\"\n\n\"What? What's going on?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I looked towards John and gave him a nod. \"I've given this a lot of thought but I can't take it anymore. It's just...too much for me to handle.\"\n\n\"Francis? Francis what are you talking about? Francis answer me.\"\n\nShe's gonna fucking hate me for doing this, I let out a smile. \"I've had enough. Goodbye.\"\n\n\"Francis? Francis no! What are you doing? Please! Please talk to me! Francis please I beg you! Francis wha-\"\n\nI hung up the phone. Giggling, I pulled myself over the rail. I crossed my arms across my chest and jumped.\n\nThe air sped past my cheeks as I counted in my head. One. Two. Three. Four.\n\n\"Shit!\" I heard a scream from above.\n\nFive. Six. Six? Wait that's way too long. Something isn't right.\n\n\"FUCK FRANCIS WE FORGOT TO TIE THE OTHER END OF THE ROP-\"" ]	3
	[WP] Everybody you know is addicted to a new tv show, however when you watch it all you see is black on the screen.	[ "I've heard of this new tv show everyone is watching and decide to attend a viewing party my friend is hosting, as soon as I get to his house I grab a beer, socialize for a bit with the few people I know and wait for the show to start. Roughly 45 minutes go by and everyone starts to gather around on my friends couch to watch, 5 minutes go by and all I see is black on the screen, I sit patiently and start to casually look around to see if anyone else seems as impatient for the show to start as me, nobody does. I look at the screen again...Then I look back at everyone who all look very intrigued, I start to try and speak to ask why nothing is playing and I get simultaneously in about 12 demonic voices to \"shut the fuck up\". I stop talking, I sit as still as I can trying to be as quiet as possible, I'm sitting on the end of the couch because I wanted an arm rest so I try and excuse myself to the restroom but someone behind me who I've never met before grabs my shoulder and pushes me back down into my seat with unrealistic strength, this doesn't phase anyone, and I can now feel in exact detail where this guy put his hands on my shoulders, at this point I'm terrified I don't know what to do so I start to think, why am I the only one who is seeing a black screen? Commercial break comes and everyone is back to normal like nothing happened everyone leaves the couch to grab snacks and refreshments I can see the screen again and a Dairy Queen commercial comes on, I go to talk to my friend who is hosting the party I tell him I only see black on the screen he looks at me like I'm crazy and he tells me that he doesn't know what I'm talking about, he tells me about the show he was watching, I tell someone else I know at the party who I knew from back in high school he gives me the same response except he tells me about a completely different tv show, I talk to a third person who again doesn't believe what I'm saying and again tells me about a completely different show, I start to think I'm going crazy but I can't be, can I? No no no everyone is talking about a different tv show something isn't right.....I wake up. XP", "\"How good was the premiere last night! I literally couldn't even deal with it. I skipped my calc homework just so I could watch it. Def worth it.\" Tara squealed looking up from her iphone to her friends. \n\n\"AHHH it was crazy. I can't wait for next week's episode. I really hope that Jenna and Matthew hook up... their chemistry is just insane. On top of which let's talk about the plot!\" said Hellena with equal enthusiasm, slurping on her starbucks the whole time\n.\n\"haha what show are you guys talking about?\" I asked innocently. I was always on the outside of the know when it came to television shows. I didn't own a tv and wasn't really in the habit of watching anything other than the occasional movie at a friends house or on some shady website when I was sick or super super bored.\n\n\"It's called Snow in the Sun. How have you not heard? There have literally been advertisements for it everywhere. It's sooooo good. It's like gossip girl, bridesmaids, parks and rec, and breaking bad combined. And all the guys in it are sooo hot. Also it's really intellectual and historically accurate. Tyler is soooo into it... ugh I hope he asks me to homecoming\" said Kylie, just as the bell rang.\n\n\"Huh I've never heard of it. I gotta get to class! See ya at lunch!\"\n\nNow it just so happened that next tuesday I was babysitting. And since I somehow miraculously had gotten the kids in bed before 9, and only had a little bit of spanish and physics homework, I figured I would watch this new show and do my homework during commercials. But when I turned the tv to channel 37 as the schedule said on channel 1, there was nothing. Complete black. No noise, no movement, nothing. Huh I thought thats weird. The channel must be down.\n\n\"AHHHH did you see the show last night? How crazy was it I couldn't believe that Jake....\"\n\nTara quickly interrupted Kylie \"Omg shhhh. Hellena and I couldn't watch it last night because of a choir concert. Hey did you watch it when you were babysitting?\"\n\n\"No. I couldn't get the tv to work... Technologically challenged I guess. It was weird! All the other channels worked IdK.\"\n\n\"We should definitely watch it together this weekend. Lets have a sleepover at my house friday!\" Said Hellena.\n\n\"I'll come too\" laughed Kylie, \"I dont mind watching it again. Trust me.\"\n\nSo I was curious. What was this new show. Guys, girls, even teachers were talking about it all day. By Friday my curiosity was insane. I had to know what it was about. I had to see it. We all sat down to watch it at Hellena's on her big screen tv. Eating popcorn and just chilling, girls night. We mocked the ads that were on tv. \n\n\"These don't even make sense for this demographic!\" Giggled Kylie as an ad for a local nursing home came on.\n\nAnd that was when it started to get weird. Our friend Diana had come too, she like me had never seen the show before. So I though it was weird when she said \"Woah I like this intro song.\" Because there was nothing playing. All I saw, all I heard was black silent darkness. But all my friends stared intensively at the screen, discussing the character's every move, dialogue, and outfit. Is this a joke I wondered? But even Hellena's mom who had come to bring us more popcorn was super into it. What the hell was happening. I turned away from the screen looking at each person. All eyes were on the screen. Even the dog's. And thats when I saw the man with the knife looking through the window. No one heard me scream.", "\"I can't say too much without spoiling it for you, it's just amazing. The writing is raw, it almost feels unscripted, I binge watch it when I can.\"\n\n'What's it about though? Is it sci fi? Drama? What makes it so good?'\n\n\"Well it's drama for sure, but not like Game of Thrones or Breaking Bad level; it's more mundane, but just as brilliant as those shows.\"\n\n'Jeez, I better watch it then, sounds good.'\n\n\"It's so beautiful, it's like, ahh I don't want to give anything away though; look, all I'll say is that it made me cry like a baby, and almost nothing was happening on the screen. It's a magnificent cautionary tale and I just can't say any more than that.\"\n\n'Ok, ok I'll watch it tonight; what time does it air?'\n\n\"6pm, DO NOT MISS IT\"\n\nThe next day\n\n'I missed it! My cable must have been out. How was it?'\n\n\"It was horrible, the main guy was just staring at his TV and checking his phone for the whole episode!" ]	3
	[WP] You and everyone you know never have to work a day in your life due to "The Cure". What is the cure and what is the disease?	[ "Is this the life or what? Surf, sand, and sunshine. Up at the break of dawn, wax the boards, and hit the 27 for Topanga. We bounce around in the PT Cruiser, chugging our special energy drink brew of Odwalla and special protein mix, and finish up by the time the road twists down into Malibu. Once on the PCH, we head a bit north in search of a relatively clear beach with nice breaks, and soon enough are scrambling onto the sand with boards in hand. Man, look at that sunrise, how it gives the Pacific a glassy orange sheen. You have to feel sorry for everyone else. They haven't figured out that this could be their life too, but you may as well be speaking a different language. We throw our boards into the surf and begin to paddle out.\n\nI never used to enjoy the sunrise like this. I don't think any of us did. For a long time, it was something to shy away from, having spent the entire night out at the club or raising some kind of hell. There was daybreak from a cell, but that didn't really count. Besides, you can't really fault us for getting pinched once or twice. We've all done it, right? It's pretty much a badge of honor these days. I don't think I'd trust anyone who hasn't given the man a stiff middle finger. What I'm saying is, I'm glad that part of my life is over, but since it made me who I am now, I don't think I'd change anything about it. I have no regrets. Christ, how could I have any bad feelings on a day like this?\n\nWe line up our boards behind the breaks, and synchronize our watches. It's a little game we have, and we've played it so much now we do it on auto pilot. The cool Pacific lurches over our ankles, laps our waxed boards, and behind us a set of waves swell that look to be the perfect start to a perfect day.\n\nWe got ourselves in a fix a while back. Partied a little too hard, chased some tail a little too hard, pumped our veins with those raw ampheres of meta-kynine - you know, that wicked stuff you 3D print with common house-hold cleaners and metal shavings from any eletric car battery - hell, you know what I'm talking about. Who doesn't? That night got a little too out of hand though, I guess. But, hey, can't get a job, credits all maxed out from school, and if you have more than three felonies on your record you're pretty much either a stocker at a PoMart or still in a cell.\n\nWe push off and soon enough are riding the waves to shore, the morning breeze slicking back our hair. The board cuts the foamy water, the edge biting the slick creamy froth, ocean spray spattering my face. Good Lord, what an amazing morning. How could I have possibly missed for so long the very simple solution to everything that was ever wrong with my life?\n\nMalcontents, they called us. Damned Millennials, others said. Blame the parents, the teachers, the politicians, the one-percent, the military industrial complex, the owners, the masters, the boogeymen in the news. It's all their fault if you think about it. We were well into our thirties, but society still treats us like kids. Socially afflicted, one doctor testified, predisposed to a responsibility aversion. There's really only one cure.\n\nNone of us really knew what the doctor actually said, it sounded like medicinal quackery. But California's politics had gone heavy handed again with repeat offenders, which more or less included every Millennial. In the end, they gave us a choice: Spend the rest of your life with surf and sand, or stay in prison. One little operation later and we'd be hitting the waves. Hell, what kind of choice is that?\n\nWe ride the waves in. Such a beautiful morning. As I ride the board right up to the sand, we're all on auto-pilot - wiping the obsidian sheen from our glistening bodies, emptying out the collection basins, and then heading straight back in. Sometimes, for a moment, the sun catches my eye and the beach and water look jet black, the bombed-out derrick's twisted and ruddy in the charcoal sky. But I just chalk it up to the sun in my eye, because when I turn around that crystal blue ocean beckons me back. ", "This dis-ease is what we are indoctrinated to beLIEve since birth. Sign our fucking rights away first thing. Shoot our bodies with \"vaccines\". Go to \"school\". Then get a job/go to\"work\". Be mostly miserable your whole fucking life. The disease is the massive programming of the many, by the few. And it has suited their controlling ways quite nice. Til now. The masses are waking up. The sheeple are done being herded. \n\nThe \"cure\" is not calling it work anymore. Its called living. Its called, do unto others as you wish they would do unto you. Its called respect this beautiful mother earth, and be good children. Reap what you sow. Sow the earth. Reap the rewards." ]	2
	[WP] Four men from a WWII platoon get lost after dropping into France and decide to hold up in an abandoned farmhouse. Inside, they learn something about each other.	[ "\"I'm pretty sure we all have noticed that something is off, correct?\" Vinnie stated in a cultured New England accent. \n\n\"Like the fact that we're the only survivors, and that none of us should be survivors?\" Theo stated bluntly. \n\n\"You don't know what you're talking about,\" Lou sneered from his corner, adding, \"I hate France.\"\n\nAdam, the massive heavy infantry man, just grunted.\n\n\"Look,\" Theo said, \"I'm pretty sure our secrets are similar. I've seen all of you shot, same as me. And we've all shrugged it off. Then Lou, there, screams and goes full viking berserker on the ones who killed our friends. He ignored gunshots to the chest and face and that grenade just ruined his jacket. So, spill.\"\n\nSilence greeted him.\n\n\"Will you tell me yours if I tell you mine?\"\n\nIt was Adam who spoke, his voice gravely and deep, \"I was... born on the outskirts of Darmstadt in Germany... one hundred and forty one years ago.\"\n\nAbsolute quiet greeted this proclamation.\n\nAdam continued, \"I do not recall my first life. It was only after I awoke on the surgical table that my life truly started. The man who made me what I am, I believe you know from the 'fictional' account; Doctor Frankenstein.\"\n\nVince asked a question that was on everyone's mind, \"And you're not affiliated with the Germans?\"\n\n\"No more than Lou is affiliated with the French,\" Adam Prom, a.k.a. Adam Prometheus, a.k.a. Frankenstein's monster responded, adding, \"The current regime is paranoid rabble. I have had some... experience dealing with such people.\"\n\nAs he spoke, the huge man reached out and casually snapped an old pitchfork in twain. Then he took hold of both pieces and broke them into four as if they were toothpicks held by a normal man.\n\n\"Well, that explains you folding that Jerry's spine backwards like a lawn-chair, or how you're able to fire a Ma Deuce one handed, while briskly walking,\" Lou recalled.\n\nAdam grumbled, \"I need the other hand to hold the ammunition satchel.\"\n\nLou stared at the big man, then sighed \"Fine. I guess it's my turn. I didn't even try to hide it that well. My name, Lou Garr. I'm what the French call 'Loup-Garou'. Basically, take your ordinary werewolf - then give them the power to change forms when they want, an invulnerability to just about everything, and constant burning rage and set to simmer for a few centuries. I was a simple woodsman, I think to the north east of here. Mid twelfth century, if I had to guess. Calenders weren't all that accurate back then. So, I may have poached a few animals here and there. Suddenly, I got bit by something very, very big and very, very fast. Three guesses as to what it was and the first two don't count. Since then, I've been a mercenary. That or being a hunter has been the only two things I've been really good at.\"\n\n\"Technically, they're almost the same thing. Only the prey is different,\" Vinny spoke up. \n\n\"Great attitude there, pal,\" Lou sniffed in disdain. Then he pointed at Theo, \"Want to tell me why you smell so strongly of death?\"\n\nTheo sighed, \"It's the same old story. Boy is groomed to be king - pharaoh actually. Boy gets in good with all the priesthood. Boy is killed by his younger brother who wanted to be pharaoh instead. Head priest makes the boy into an immortal mummy to prevent his upstart brother from making it into the afterlife or knowing happiness in this one. Boy-mummy succeeds in his mission, but is left to wander the Earth forever.\"\n\nThey all stared at Theo.\n\nAdam spoke up, \"I have never heard this story before.\"\n\nTheo sighed, \"Well, that's my story. I don't have super strength or the ability to change into a snarling animal whenever the mood hits me, but I'm pretty much indestructible and I wont know true death again until Anubis is done with me.\"\n\n\"So where are your wrappings and bandages?\" Lou asked.\n\nTheo just stared at the werewolf, \"I managed to gain enough life-force back so I hadn't needed them since about week two of my new afterlife, roughly the same time as when my organs regrew.\"\n\n\"Interesting,\" the scraggly man stated, \"So we have Frank's creation, we have mummy-boy, and we have the big bad wolf in myself. That just leaves you, Vinnie.\"\n\nAs the singled out man rose up and spoke with an aristocratic air, the wind started whipping about inside the barn, \"Some of you may know me as Vincent... 'Vinnie' Drake, but once I had a far more memorable name and title; Vlad, the third, Vlad the Impaler, Prince of Wallachia, Lord of the house of Dracuulesti - King of the Vampyres!\"\n\nLou just threw his hands up in frustration \"Oh, come on! Really? All we need are the Three Stooges and we'd have ourselves a movie.\"", "I breathed into my hands again. Fuck this spring frost; I'd be lucky to leave this war with all my fingers.\n\nI heard a creak above my head as a small amount of dust fell to the concrete floor. Nick was up, I could tell my his trademark hangover groan that followed shortly after.\n\nDempsy had been up for a while. We had been discussing politics, the safety of our location, the shit-storm that was happening to the entire outside world and how, of course, there was nothing we could do about it.\n\nTakeo had been sitting with us as well. He was a Jap, but from the states. His english was still pretty broken, but every once in a while, he'd manage to add something to the conversation, so I had no problem with keeping him around.\n\nNick reached the bottom step of the old farm house and looked towards the three of us, huddled in a circle, \"What are you three up to?\" he asked in a semi-slurred, very about-to-vomit mannerism.\n\n\"Just talkin'.\" Dempsy replied.\n\nNick put on his gloves and shook his head, \"You know we can't stay here long, right? They'll be here any minute, and we're short on supplies.\"\n\n\"Yes, Nick, we realize that.\" I shot back, annoyed.It was true, this wasn't a great location, and it was hardly secure. \n\n\"I heard of an abandon asylum...rumor has it the powers still on there, and the place is built like a prison, so it has to be fortifiable.\"\n\nTakeo grunted, \"Go to asylum? That is old nut-house, yes? I do not like. Gives me the, uh, the creepies, as you say.\"\n\nI breathed again, \"It's still better than this shitty old farm-house. Half the roof is caved in!\" \n\nBesides, it wasn't like escape would be difficult, there was a jeep directly outside.\n\nBut something was wrong. \n\nEvery time we tried to leave...something happened. One of us would fall and get hurt right before we could try and climb out a window, or someone would suddenly get a feeling of immense uneasiness. None of us wanted to admit it, but something, some invisible hand was keeping us here.\n\nWe wanted to leave. God, we wanted to leave this horrible place, and I could tell it was driving us to madness. Occasionally, and completely out of character, one of us would make a corny, snarky remark about the situation we found ourselves in. Nick was getting the worst.\n\nHe had started drawing firearms on the wall in chalk, claiming they would keep us safe. I caught Takeo shooting his pistol at the radio, claiming that he was just trying to turn it on.\n\nI saw fit to bored up the windows...even though we so desperately wanted to leave.\n\nI didn't understand it. Not at first. But realization has been creeping over me ever sense.\n\nThe impossible situation we found ourselves in. The loss of radio contact with the entire outside world. Our inability to leave. Those...things.\n\nThis was someone's idea of a sick, twisted game. That's all we were, players in a madman's entertainment.\n\nAnd I had no doubt we were going to die here.\n\nThe part that worried me the most, though, was that I felt like this game had been played a thousand times before...\n\nAnd nobody had ever won.", "\"where are you from?\"\n\nBoston\n\n\"boston? wheres your accent?\n\nWell, I'm a transplant from Kansas City. Been in Boston for a couple months before shipping out.\n\n\"Alright, Boston, Louie was a drunkard, Stephen was a thief, and I'm a broke artist. What about you?\"\n\nFrance is a shit-hole, at least it looks that way. I couldnt help but think of pretty girls running around while we travelled the cities hunting nazis. I guess not, now I've got these 3 guys I've never met asking me secrets I've never told anyone.\n\nAlright. Before I enlisted, I had been dating this beautiful girl.\n\n\"Ahh got someone back home, eh?\"\n\nShe was gorgeous, smart. We met in high school. I felt like she was all I ever wanted, bought the damn ring and everything. I led a pretty simple life. Kansas kid, not much to do around there. Every night we'd sneak off to an old barn and fool around. Can't forget the scratchiness of those damn hay bails chuckles. I had decided for a while that...with all this war shit going on I would enlist. Ya know, get out of town, come back with some money so we could start a life together. She knew this, and we decided to stay together. A month or so went by, I was enlisted, and we were still together. I had to go down to sign some papers at the army office. I usually walked. I walked everywhere. Helps the blood flow right? Well...as I'm walking. This beautiful black buick passes me. 2 door, I mean this guys got it going on. Funny thing though, sitting inside that car was my future wife...and this dudes got his arm around her like it's no big deal. \n\nI get pissed. Like really angry, down to your bones. You can feel the coldness radiating off me. I hop a cab and follow that black buick. I dont even have the fare. I sat and watched that black buick drive down my street to that old barn I knew so well. Julie knew it so well. They get out. Run inside, hand in fuckin hand. I tell the cab driver I'll meet him at the gate to pay him. So, uh. He drives off, I'm lookin at the car trying to decide what should I slash his tires? chuckling No, so I go up to the door. She's yellin his name, \"Jerry! Jerry!\" My fists clenched up as tight as I could ever remember. \n\nI walked around that barn, and I found a bunch of hay, that had been piled up on the side. Pulled out my matchbook and I..lit the hay on fire. It went up real fast. Quicker than I thought honestly. So, I ran back around, and i got in that black buick, started her up. And I crashed the damn thing into the bar door. When I got out I heard them in there screamin'. And through the crack of the jammed up door I see Julie. Shes cryin. And she looked at me, like she knew what she was doin' was wrong. Jerry's so damn scared he doesn't even have his pants buckled up trying to get down that ladder. \n\nI ran, back down the way to the cab. And I turned around to see what i'd done. I burned that god damned barn to the ground. The only memory I had of Julie was the first time we went to that place, and the last time I saw her there. Cabbie takes me to bus station. And off I went to Boston. Now I'm here. In another godforsaken barn. You boys better hid your matches from me chuckles." ]	3
	[WP] You wake up in a mental hospital, knowing you're mental health is perfect	[ "This is my first post and it is a big one. Hopefully everyone enjoys it. I seemed to have focused on a first person and third person perspective so hopefully that is okay.\n\n\n\"For the last time, I am fine, there is nothing wrong with me. This all a big mistake!\" I shouted in vain as two nurses placed me in the middle of the ward.\n\nThe past year seemed to fly by. From the car accident, to my wife's final breaths in hospital, to the moments that they threw me in the hell hole that is called 'Palm Recreational Health Facilities'.\n\nI break down into hysterics, I enter the world of depression because the woman of 15 years, the woman I loved more than I could possibly imagine died in my arms due to a car crash that I caused and they call me insane? What person wouldn't be upset if they were the cause of their own destruction, the cause of the greatest heart ache they could possibly imagine?\n\nAs I left my thoughts I analysed this world that seemed so foreign to me. Everything was white in a disturbing manner. The floors, the walls, the furniture, hell even the clothes they gave my body warmth were whiter than a cloud in a sky.\n\nI noticed three people to my left sitting in chairs staring at the wall with looks of fascination on their faces. Their intrigue in a seemingly irrelevant object captivated me to observe closer.\n\nThe man closest to me was unshaven and unkempt. He had thick dark hair with specks of white nestled in between that almost covered his entire face yet he seemed to be able to see unhampered. \n\n\"Why are you looking at the wall like that?\" I asked quizzically.\n\n\"By what wall do you mean?\" he responded without moving his gaze from the white wall.\n\n\"The wall one in front of you, the one that you're looking at right now\" I said with confusion and slight irritation in my voice.\n\n\"There is no wall in front of me, only a window to the other side\" He responded, still not breaking his gaze.\n\nSo this is the company I had to keep? An insane man looking at a wall and calling it a window to the other side. How the hell did a man like me ever get stuck in a place like this?\n\n\"What do you mean a window to the other side? There is no window let alone another side. There is a wall, no window, what the hell are you on about?\" I demanded as my voice grew more tired and irritated.\n\nStill not breaking his gaze the man moved a chair to his right and patted it softly. \"Sit and watch and you will see. Sit and watch\"\n\nI stared in disbelief. How could anyone put me in a place like this that holds such insanity? I sat on the seat next to the man, to humour his delirious accusations. I'm sure I read somewhere that insane people became violent if they became distressed and getting into an argument would probably hamper my chances of getting out of this place.\n\nThe man raised his hand and pointed at the wall drawing my eyes. The white bricks seemed to overlap one another in a hypnotic way as if it were calming my nerves which in a place like this seemed like a good thing. \n\n\"Watch and see\" the man reiterated.\n\nI smiled and almost laughed at his lunacy when at the corner of my eye it seemed like one of the bricks moved. At first I thought it was the trick of the light but as I stared more intently, the bricks did in fact move. I jumped back on my seat as the wall seemed to open like a window. I looked to the man on my left for answers to find out that he had finally broken his gaze and he had focused on me.\n\n\"Now you see\" he smiled before looking back at the wall.\n\n\"This is a trick\" I stammered \"Some of the staff must have given me drugs, they must have done something\"\n\n\"Now you see\" he repeated again and again.\n\n .............................................\n\n\"Now you see by this patient, he has fallen into severe trauma after the loss of his wife\" said a man with a burly black beard speckled with small amounts of white portraying his age as he instructed a crowd of young doctors. \"Lucas Wells is a particularly interesting patient in the sense that he doesn't observe his true surroundings fully, yet takes minor details such as phrases, facial features, colours and so forth and then applies them to a world that he fabricates. It is only speculation but I believe he has created a world of neutrality, a world where there is no wrong or right, bad or good, just neutrality.\"\n\n\"How did you come to this conclusion Dr. Palmer, what evidence proves your thoughts?\" questioned a young doctor in her early 20's.\n\n\"Well as you can see through this window to the patients room, it is filled with a plethora of different colours - blue, red, green, yellow, purple and so forth. Yet as you can see, he focuses on a small white brick located in the middle of the wall and as we all know, white is generally a neutral colour. Though the mind is extremely complex and our opinions on Lucas are generally speculation, we believe in this instance and through extensive observation that we're correct about his thought process. Now as you can see he is one of the more interesting patients we hold here\"\n\n\n .............................................\n\n\nNow you see, that's all this bearded lunatic kept repeating. The walls are a trick, they must have drugged me. I need to find a phone, I need to get the hell out of this place before I also become insane.\n\n\nEDIT: Fixed a lot of spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. I was a bit too hasty in posting before I proofread everything.\n", "Slung back-hoisted and broken into a slapdash layer cake of white and off-white bedsheets. Bound in tickling loops of leather that caress both wrists with equal affection. The ceiling is blue. That's funny. \n\nThe old square-cornered red-yellowed carpet-room I've known for years is receded, or at least entirely subdued by this whiter, nicer option. A buzz buzzes buzzingly to my left, emitting perhaps from a buzzer of some sort. I shall inquire politely when the moment arises. Mother will be here soon.\n\nMother will be here soon. A hapless happiness of hours idle by, as I count the nothings in every corner of the blue ceiling. A shard of yellow whispers through a misty draping curtain and paddles on my hand and arm. Daylight. It will be time for my walk.\n\nThis isn't my bed.\n\nReveries of a past best forgotten lead an eyeless pilot through a marsh imagined. Is this the time to scream for Mother? How many hours has it been? How many kisses? She will be here soon to read the newspaper and tut at my bad language and common sense and decency. But how she will laugh and crinkle the corner of her eyes as I tell her how pretty she looks today, and how nice the lines around her mouth look.\n\nMore twisting inlets and puddling backdrops swill and sway in meandering thoughtflow. Then suddenly there's a woman and a man, already there, at the foot of the bed. They didn't knock. Mother always knocks.\n\n\"Mr Sanders, we're so very sorry for everything. We're here to explain what's going to happen.\"\n\nA teacherly toughness drips from every slipping syllable as he moans more words at me. The woman only nods. Her eyes are wide, like mothers, but when she smiles there are no crinkles at the corners.\n\n\"Having now successfully assessed your mental health, we can confirm that you will remain in our care until a suitable guardian is appointed. You have been deemed unfit to live independently. Do you understand me, Mr Sanders?\"\n\nNo. I do not understep the ribbons of rotten teethflesh torn from my every soul and dangled before me by this husking dank of a man. Where is mother? She will come soon and tell me I am the normalest normal son she has ever known, and I will smile and she will cry but not of sadness. \n\nThey leave. I nod. He asks if I understand. I scream. He leaves. I leave. He screams. I nod.\n\nI am normal." ]	2
	[WP] Write the best prolouge you can. Make me drool for more!	[ "The figures around the campfire huddled close as if escaping the swirling, smokey mists at the edges of the light. Of the eight only one stood with its back to the flames. Of the eight only one searched the mists for answers.\n\n“What has been shared here is yours alone to hold.”\n\n“I’m aware.”\n\nThe response was stiff, strained with the burden of newly given knowledge. The knowledge did not grant answers. Silence returned to the group, the only noise an occasional crack of logs splintering in flames. In time the lone standing figure turned to view those gathered. His gaze fell on each of the assembled, held their forms in his mind for a time before moving to the next. Two among the gathered did not shrink back from the piercing stare.\n\n“When?”\n\nThe question was directed at the last to be observed. The figure’s gaze did not leave the small campfire’s fitful light. \n\n“We cannot say. The Speaker and Knower is unknowable, even to us, mage. This much has been revealed, however: he has been chosen.”\n\nA great grief settled over the group, shocking the last speaker in its strength. In response it said, “do you mortals truly hold your own lives so precious as to have such a sadness? To know your death, I would think, would bring a sort of vitality to the remaining days. You are destined to die, mage. We have only given purpose to it.”\n\nA shot of mirth rippled through the near-physical emotion. Hanging his head the mage chuckled.\n\n“You are so wrong. You know so little of us; your Children. I do not mourn my death but the path he will have to walk alone. It is the greatest pain we can feel.”\n\n“What is this pain, mage?” spoke another of the figures. It had leaned forward, bright armour reflecting the firelight. “I would know what pains you so.”\n\nThe mage turned away again. He stared into the mists for some time. At length his answer came. \n\n“The grief I have carried through all of my days. The pain of separation. To be alone. Set apart. To not belong. He will carry the same pain. This path, this hope as you called it, is our delusion. They think it will bring a true knowledge. But as you’ve shown me here, knowledge does not give respite.” \n\nAnother of the figures spoke, “It was your purpose. It was why you humans were born. I have showed you the moment of your awakening, the gift of thought we granted you. Do you reject the gift we have given you?” \n\n“No. It was the greatest gift we could have received. But make no mistake, you all gave it for your own purposes. In some ways you are worse than we.” The mage thought for a moment before adding, “perhaps we are closer to Him than you are.” \nTwo of the figures rose at the statement but the mage raised his hands. The figures struggled back to seated positions. They looked stricken. \n\n“No matter,” the mage continued. “We have our conscious thought and we have our purpose. It is the boy that makes me sad. He’ll find out everything, more than even I know, more than you all. And in the end it will make him singular, alone. I fear the consequences for everyone if someone like that gains all the potential he has. I grieve not for my death, but for his life.” \n\nThe mage’s words stilled the figures. They gave in to the emotion, let it fill them until they understood. They had crafted this since their first clash, since they had first sought Him. Now, so close to achieving their end, they realized what a terrible price they would make another pay for their treasure, their knowledge. None spoke. \n\n“I will do as you have said. I know my path.” The grief entered the mage’s voice as he stepped away from the small, pitiful campfire. The fog reached for the figure as the light faded behind him. ", "The glass rested on the drink mat. A bucket glass. Nothing fancy or extravagant, but rather ordinary. It is clean and polished, waiting to be used for its intended purpose. A small brown hand held the glass firmly as ice cubes poured in, making a soothing, clanging sound. Next came the bourbon. Not an expensive brand of bourbon, but not too modestly priced either. The dark liquor flowed through the ice cubes weaving its way to the bottom of the bucket glass and stops flowing halfway. Just enough liquor to calm the nerves of an individual, but not enough to make the ice float. Kathy thought to herself, this will make the day easier – right? \n\nThe bartender handed the glass of bourbon to Kathy while telling her some gibberish about some soccer team in Mexico, and then something that happened somewhere on the news sometime. She didn’t care, nor listened, to what he is actually talking about. All she thought about was Thomas. Why her? Why is he marrying her?\n\n“That’s a pretty stout drink to have at 11:15. Is there a party today that I don’t know about?” The bartender asked.\n\n“Yeah. My best friend is getting married today.” Kathy said reluctantly. The last thing she desired was small talk. She noticed him edge closer with curiosity in his eyes.\n\n“That’s great. A little pre-gaming huh? I like your style – is she getting married around here?”\n\n“He is getting married at our restaurant.” The bartender glared at Kathy with raised eyebrows, waiting for her to explain further. “I work at Ye Olde Steakhouse. He works there too with his fiancé, and she’s the daughter of the owner. So the owner decided to host the ceremony at the restaurant, making all of us work while they celebrate.” Now stop talking to me.\n\nThe bartender picked up on her less than jubilant attitude and started to realize the situation as it really is. He returned to polishing the wine glasses which were left out over night from yesterday’s shift.\n\nKathy continued gulping her bourbon, which caused a welcoming burning sensation down her throat. Her head began to feel lighter. Yep… this is helping alright. Do I have time for another? \n\nKathy slammed back the glass, causing the remaining liquid to pass between her lips. A few drops streamed down the side of her chin. She ordered another round as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him the truth. All of the truth.\n", "He stretched his hand across the table and placed it lightly on hers. The candlelight flickered throughout the room, the only illumination there was, and revealed both of their shadows on the wall.\n\n“Happy anniversary,” the man said softly to his wife sitting across from him at the small little table with a candelabra sitting in the middle, the wax slowly dripping down the metal. “It’s been a long time since we had such a nice night together.”\n\nThe woman smiled back at him, her blue dress glimmering slightly in the pale light from the candles.\n\n“I’ve missed you,” the woman replied. “They told me…”\n\n“Don’t listen to what they say,” the man interrupted. “I never do. You wouldn’t believe the things people have tried to tell me about. Who are they to know?”\n\nThe man slowly backed his seat out, then helped his wife to her feet as well. They embraced in the dying candlelight and started to kiss each other. He rubbed his hands up and down her back as she did the same to him. After a couple minutes they had started to fool around on the sofa, the candlelight nearly dead. It flickered its last little flame and died, the single shadow on the wall disappearing with it.\n\n-336", "Imagine this being read by a Christopher Lee sound-alike as the text scrolls up the screen and the camera pans across a blasted, post-nuclear, hellscape:\n\nAs the twenty-first century progressed, Man's future looked brighter and brighter still: Technology promised a glorious new age of universal prosperity, happiness and virtual immortality in an earthly paradise.\n\nTimes of change however, are, by their nature, times of turmoil; and so it was that war came; the bombs fell; the glittering cities of Man were blasted to ash and the world steeped in lethal radiation.\n\nThe governments of the superpowers and their military forces retreated to the impenetrable fastnesses of their Cold-War catacombs; Survivalists practically danced to their home-made bunkers; jubilant in their final vindication, and all across the globe ordinary folk cowered in mine-shafts, subway-stations, and other improvised shelters as they listened to the world ending outside.\n\nThat was generations ago and now mother Earth begins to heal her wounds; the vast, radioactive, dead-zones shrink year on year; life creeps back from those enclaves where it lingered to once more reclaim its old dominions, and Human Beings; the descendants of the original survivors, emerge blinking once more into the harsh sunlight of a world which is Man's legacy to himself:\n\nA blasted hell-scape where the rotting bones of the old world poke through the desiccated skin of the new; where dark, mutated, jungles teem with new, radiation-twisted, life; where machines, once Man's most useful servants, run amok; their synthetic minds driven mad by the electromagnetic pulses of a thousand nuclear detonations; where even the dead do not rest easy in their graves.\n\nYet for all these hazards, Man's greatest enemy remains Man; for, as the first settlements take hold around the bunker doors, and the first little empires and kingdoms forge themselves anew, bandits, pirates, the wicked and the cruel are ever-ready to predate upon the weak.\n\nThere is no mercy to be found in the pitiless wastes, and precious little glory.\n\nIt is a dangerous time to be alive.", "\"Home...\"\nA vibrant sunset filled the dusty skies of the Akari wasteland.\nA young man with golden brown hair stood in awe, veering out into the place he and his family once called home.\nThough remnants of the old kingdom remained, it was now nothing but a broken shell of it's former glory. His parent's now deceased, Xyla now sought to find a new comfort in life. By returning to the place where he spent most of his childhood, he hoped to find some meaning for his life and uncover more about the kingdom's shrouded past.\nBut before he could continue on his journey he had to address the gun being held at his back.\n\"Stand still boy! You're coming with me.\"\n ", "The sound of the bell rung throughout the mist, giving the man a brief moment as he jumped. He was so focused on digging that he forgot that the church's bell would still sound at this late of an hour. He wiped his brow, unintentionally smearing dirt and grime across it as he leaned back, pushing his foot into the shovel. The nip of the cold air forced the man to work faster, his body sweating and his joints sore from digging so harshly. The lantern he left by the aged tombstone of Alex Berber, a man who died fifty two years ago, allowed him to see the snow tinted ground that he shoveled through. The snow and the weather almost forced the man to give up hope on finishing his project for the evening.\n\nThe thud of metal hitting wood forced a smile across the man's middle aged face, the wrinkles on the corners of his face belying his age as he quickly dug faster. He pushed himself to pull more and more dirt from the ground, forcing his way through. Finally, the blonde haired man took the shovel and punched it as hard as he could through the wood of the casket. One strike, then another, and then another; he feverishly felt that he was close to finding the mystery.\n\n\"Please tell me you're almost done.\" A sage like voice called out from above the man, holding a service pistol in one hand and a separate lantern in the other. His coat was hole-y, stained from wear and tear; the smell of cheap cigarettes was a stench that even the man below in the grave could smell.\n\n\"Hold on, I'm almost...\" The younger man began with a wince of the smell and a growl to respond before a satisfying crunch was heard, and the man dropped to his knees. Using his tanned and scarred hands, he pulled back some of the planks of wood, one by one.\n\nThe casket was empty.\n\n\"I told you, bud. Alex Berber still walks among the living.\"", "My grandmother told me it was a gift. It started when I was young just seeing the black angel before my pets. From there or progressed to 10. it begin in the grocery store when the cashier curled over. I've learned to get use to it, to not let it rule over to over me but to coexist. This was all till the day I saw the angel in front of everyone's house.", "The saloon doors burst open and he stumbled out into the night. The smell of pine and dust filled his lungs as he tried to gain his bearings. It was oddly silent. It felt almost as unnatural as the scream that soon pierced the cool night air. \n\n\"It's strange how dark blood can be\" he thought as he looked at his hands, black and glistening in the moonlight. ", "He meets my eyes briefly. His scarlet rimmed gaze searches for something before falling back to the ground. I wonder what he searches for. Pity perhaps? A slight wavering in my resolve? But no. Whatever it is that he hopes to see in my embittered eyes is dead and buried and rotting. I have no pity for him and his. I have no wavering in my faith. I level the muzzle to his gun calmly. My hand does not tremble as I click the safety of. My heart is devoid of any kind of emotion as I blow the son-of-a-bitches brains out on the sidewalk. He dies with Frost still crystallizing on his breath and the sun still warm on his cheeks. Truly a better death than the one he had given\nme.\n\nEdit: This is formatted from an earlier post. ", "It all started right when I died. Well, not technically my death, but my UN-death. I knew there was something not right with that old gypsy, giving me that slip of paper. What was on it? A symbol or something? Whatever, as I came to, I found myself in the morgue. The mortician gave a ghastly look, as if I was possessed by the devil. While not COMPLETELY false, the image of a dead man getting off of a cold, uncomfortable table probably would strike fear into me as well. Looking down at myself, I was, in fact, deceased, but I still wonder how it happened...", "\"Get out!\" God screamed. She had been hormonal the last couple centuries. Ever since that damned serpent. \"I'm tired of your bullshit! Get out!\"\n\n\"Come on, it was just a joke.\" Satan was trying not to smile but he couldn't help it, he found humor in her behavior. \"Baby, don't make decisions when you're mad.\"\n\n\"I want a divorce!\" It was the first time she'd been so mad. Until this point all she did was create things, this was the first time she would destroy anything.\n\n\"Come on, now, you don't mean that. Honey, you know I love you.\" Satan tried appealing to God's softer side. His apologies fell on deaf ears, though, and suddenly he found himself living in a motel.", "Shut it.\nHe heard the screaming right when he woke up. It shuddered the mall every time it echoed. It was a terrible scream, one that made his blood churn and turn into butter inside his body. He got up, tired from his long slumber and started progressing through the mall; it was strangely quiet and dark out. He followed the voice of the scream. It was a woman screaming over and over and over like one of those alarms that your roommate had set to get up in the morning but slept through it. She sounded terrified. Rays of bright red angry terror enveloped him. Agony swamped the air, filling it with noxious gasses. He coughed up a ball of churned blood. He held it for a while; staring at how it was so like butter but at the same time it was blood. He moved on, throwing the ball into a nearby fountain. He walked past the old shops in the mall. They looked all dilapidated and old like they had never been a repair on it since it was built over fifty years ago. He never came to this part of the mall that often anymore. \n", "Silence lingers. When you are left alone and you cannot shout out nor hear anything. That is the time you realize that human beings are social animals. Complete darkness and cold, no move to make. Nothing to hear or see. When your only option is to think, that is the time you go to the places. The locations in your mind that you had promised yourself you'd cover up never to see the light of day. Just like my body in this coffin. \nI guess I can tell you how I ended up here, if it's not too much of an inconvenience. \n\n", "I tightened my grip around the nondescript crank and felt a surge of adrenaline sharpen my senses. Around me, the animated chatter and carnival music interspersed with occasional screams; the ripe smell of popcorn and sweat. \n\nAnd, towering above me, a thirty two storey high roller coaster that swerved and looped in dizzying arcs, before coming together in a complex Möbius Strip-esque finale - the central attraction of the park. \n\nToday was its opening and a queue had snaked several rounds around its perimeter. All around were smiles and excitement.\n\nWhat they don't know is that it wasn't a roller coaster. Our lab had merely found it to be the perfect set up for testing our pet creation of several decades. This was in no way legal, yes, but we knew no one would participate for this. No one. Not even me. Which brings us here.\n\nThe beauty if it was, no one would know. Three seconds and a silent collision was all it need to change everything: them, science, the world. And they would not have a clue.\n\nA film of sweat formed on my palms, making my hold on the lever dangerously slippery. Dozens of faces, of families, of couples swept passed me as my colleagues, disguised as the theme park staff, strapped them in with unconcealed excitement. Nothing wrong with that, of course. It was a theme park after all. \n", "We were so young then. And angry. Angry in the way only young men can be. Angry at the world, at \"the system\", at the cold indifference with which the universe looked down at us, at how we thought we struggled and suffered, and at nothing in particular at all. We were angry and we were powerless and we demanded to be heard. Every week we'd meet at the coffee shop to discuss how easily the world's ills could be healed if only we had the power, if only they'd listen, if only everyone were not so blind. We talked about revolution, of reclaiming what was rightfully ours, of setting the people free. But for the longest time, that's all it was: talk. We were young, we loved to hide behind the \"if only's\" rather than risk taking action and failing. But then; for no reason in particular; we did, we took action. It was a chance as good as any, we had a plan, we had everything we needed and we went for it. Ready to further the cause at any cost.\n\n\nWe were young and we were angry, we all loved to think that we could change the world but not for a moment did we consider how much, what it would start and how it would end.", "The solid black Doberman leaped through the wet prairie junegrass. The trees behind him shook as the sky shattered, then bemoaned. Phlogiston, \"Floggs\" for short, was good at atmosphere control, but not like Cory. His jaws clamped down, on the camera in his maul, at the thought of him.\n\nA gentle human that loved photos. Who much rather take pictures of Floggs, and the humans, Brian, Jude and Shawnee than bend the weather. His ability to meld the two for his hobby, gave him better control than the other mages. \n\n\"Sit Floggs'\" he'd say. Before grabbing the camera hanging around his neck. Jude loved to pose with him like a guarding statue. Darling Shawnee tossed crackers, and the dog chomped them mid air. Proud as if a noble dog-at-arms. Then the scenery transformed at the photographer's will. The sun would shine through branches, and the air would come to a silent pause. Then he began snapping, dancing around them like a jester. \n\nOn the brink of death, Floggs absorbed their power. Did they know that? Each Mage transferred it over. \n\nThe image of the Blade Fighter entwined in branches, appeared in Floggs memory. Trampling the giant bush to hover over his latest victim. Cory lay limp, heaving for air. One hand grabbing earth to stabilize his upper body. The other gestured to the swaying bush, engulfing it in flames. A moment later the dog remembered nudging Cory's hand before he slipped away. Their brownish gold eyes met one another. His hand pet his muzzle. Then it fell away. Now the elements swirled powerfully around in Floggs.\n\nHe padded along, trying to make distance between him and the Blade Fighter now. Not paying much attention. He weaved out of the woods again, and crossed a road. Facing a cliff wall. He whipped back around to find another way around. Instantly the grill of a small car smacked him senseless. \n\nThe car didn't stop. He noticed, as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. In front of him was the blur of a man. He could feel himself begin to growl. A pain shot through him as an invisible force began to lift him into the air. The shadow of the man slowly did a one eighty, into the dark canopy. Floggs body slowly moved over the road. The dog's path converged on the trail of the man, and soon he too was in the woods again. The invisible force pulling him along like a leash. \n", "Yay! I finally get to use this! please excuse my spelling/grammar:\n\n\nI sat in the front row of the balcony, watching this god awful play. It's goes something like this, \"Man finds his future killer and tries to evade the killer.\" It's pretty boring with the actors not doing much and just sitting there talking, not moving. 8:25, god when does this end? My eyes start to wander around the stage till I find a person walking onto the stage dressed in a brown trench coat and a cap. He looks around quickly, looking like he's trying not to be caught. Is this the main character, because if so the actor suddenly got good from last time we saw him. The actors turn and watch this man, they speak to each other franticly as he comes closer. One of the two actors start getting off stage with the most frightened look on his face, he's not an actor. I whisper to my older brother next to me, \"Get ready to run.\" He nods and we both lean in. The Man walking on the stage looks up but his face isn't able to be seen for me. Then a large BANG reaches out from the shadows. The Man on stage is hit with what I presume is a bullet. Then two shadowy men emerge and keep firing on The Man. The curtains start to close as he falls but before it closes completely I see his face...It's mine.", "It snowed the day the world died.\n\nIt was August. I remember thinking that the assholes on the news were going to shout about how this proved global warming was a lie. It had been 97 degrees the day before, and now snow was falling from the sky. The weather guy was just some kid in a suit that didn't fit him right. He tried to explain the polar vortex in his squeaky voice. I was just glad that I could make it from my car to the office without sweating through my shirt.\n\nNobody was worried when it snowed the next day. I saw kids making snowmen and having snowball fights. I saw couples ice skating in the park, laughing and kissing.\n\nA week later, when the novelty had worn off, when they had to take the plows out of storage, when all of the weather models insisted that tomorrow it was finally going to break but the snow just kept falling, that's when people started to get nervous.\n\nIt wasn't the sun. The sun still sat in the sky, burning as bright as ever. It wasn't cold air from the arctic. It wasn't greenhouse gasses or smog or ash from a volcano.\n\nThe world had died, and now her corpse was growing cold.", "The man wiped the tears from his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked through the door.\n\nLeft behind by the man, an old woman, the man's mother, falls to her knees and sobs. The man's father stands there sadly, his hand absentmindedly rubbing her back; eyes welling up with tears.\n\nThe man doesn't look back. \n\nHe can't. His mind has been made up, broken hearts left behind and all - he has chosen his path.\n\nThe wait to get to this point was long, weeks of filing papers, hours of interviews, and finally, more hours in the line to be processed. His parents, bless them, had stood with him the entire time - too respectful to try to convince him to deviate, but devastated all the while.\n\n\"Mom,\" the man had pleaded softly, \"it is the future. One day I can only hope that you and Dad make the same choice I have. It is life everlasting, how can you not accept that?\".\n\n\"Honey,\" the mom choked out, \"what about the risks? Its not a perfect science-\"\n\n\"Life isn't a perfect science. I could be twisted and mangled in a hover accident tomorrow. Or gunned down by some robber. Or I could get cancer. And suffer until I die. Is that what you want?\"\n\nSensing the lost cause, the mother swallowed her words and hugged her son. \"I love you,\" she says in his ear. Kissing it with soft lips, squeezing him with all of her might. \n\n\"You'll be able to talk to me tomorrow Mom. It'll still be me.\" the man said, his frustration kept in check - in hopes of helping his mother through this.\n\n\"It won't be the same...\" she had said. \"You've got to go. Your number is being called.\"\n\n\"I love you dad,\" the man had said as he clutched him close. \"Read up on this. Try to convince mom.\"\n\nHis father had nodded softly. He had no intention of following in his son's footsteps. But he didn't need to say that now. \n\nHis son knew in his heart of hearts, anyway.\n\nThe disinterested woman at the counter inside the door reviews his numbered ticket. Without a word, she points to a door over her right shoulder. \n\n\"What do I do in there?\" the man asks quizzically.\n\n\"You wait,\" still disinterested and still not looking at the man.\n\nThrough the doors the man finds himself in a pseudo-greenhouse. Though its clearly a cheap knockoff. The floor is carpeted green and worn. Sounds of exotic birds and insects come from a poorly hidden media player. The palm trees are clearly fake. A fountain bubbles meekly in the corner, the stone sides coated in gross algae. A machine (also poorly hidden) emits a dense fog that envelops the room. A single chair sits in the center of the room. It is, not surprisingly, uncomfortable. \n\nExhausted from a long day of waiting in lines, crushed by his parents' emotion, the man dozes off almost immediately after sitting down.\n\nTwo men enter the room nearly immediately. Dressed head to toe in what appears to be space suits. \n\n\"Damn, he went out quick,\" one of the men says as they haphazardly heft the man up from the chair. \"I think we need to turn down the gas. I doubt they should go out that fast.\"\n\n\"No way dude,\" the other space-suited man says. \"We gotta get these people in and out. Have you seen the line outside?\"\n\n\"I'm just saying we should be careful,\" the other man says, his tone defensive. They toss the man onto a gurney and wheel him out of the room. Down a long, brightly lit hall they wheel the man. Similarly clad duos pass by them, pushing both empty and manned gurneys.\n\nAnother space-suited tech punches one of our techs on the arm as he rolls an empty gurney by, \"You owe me dinner Kennedy! The Nationals got their ass kicked last night!\" \n\n\"Fuck off,\" our tech responds quickly. \"I'm not buying you a fucking thing you shit-talking fucker.\"\n\nThe trash talker raises a middle finger to him without turning around. \n\n\"This is it,\" the other tech says as they come upon a door. \"Lets get him in and hooked up.\" \n\nInside the sterile room, a small machine sits on a counter, hooked-up to dozens of electrodes and instruments. One by one, the techs paste the equipment to the man's head. Every once in a while they consult a diagram on the wall.\n\nAn intercom in the corner of the room crackles to life: \"Blue goes on the left temple. Red on the right. Red, right. Right, red.\"\n\nThe offending tech looks up to a giant wall of one-way glass before hastily ripping the electrodes off the man's temples, switching them to the correct sides. The other tech shakes his head softly, clearly amused by the mistake.\n\n\"You can fuck off too.\" the offending tech mutters through his visor.\n\n\"Clear the room. Go get patient number 239301.\" the voice comes over the intercom again. \n\nThe two techs leave hastily.\n\nBehind the one way glass, a group of young techs sit at various computers and monitors. Behind them, an older tech, clearly the manager, drones out a series of commands:\n\n\"Boot up AI hard drive.\"\n\nImmediately the techs begin furiously tapping at their keyboards.\n\n\"Initiate wavelength protocol....hold...and....fuse.\"\n\nInside the sterile room, the man shakes violently as the electrodes on his head jolt to life. Slowly, the shakes become less violent twitches, and finally, nothing.\n\nThe manager interrupts the silence abruptly: \n\n\"Fusion complete. Boot up AI test.\"\n\n\"AI test booted up, sir.\" One of the techs says from the corner of the room.\n\n\"Jack? Can you hear me Jack?\" the manager says, almost as if talking out loud to himself.\n\n\"I...I... can hear you.\" A voice says back suddenly out of the intercom. Confusion twisting a voice we come to realize is the man's.\n\n\"Jack, my name is Doctor McMahon. You have chosen to convert your brain to Artificial Intelligence. Do you remember making that decision?\"\n\n\"I...think so...I kind of do.\"\n\n\"I'm glad to hear that Jack. I want to congratulate you on your successful hard drive fusion. Next, we will be fusing your hard drive state from which you are communicating with me now, with our supercomputer - thereby giving you the knowledge of your typical advanced internet search engine. Shortly after, you will be loaded onto a small drive, available for purchase by a consumer as an effective intelligence tool. Your personality, as you know, is intact, and your unique human reasoning skills will prove invaluable to whichever consumer selects you. The connection to the supercomputer, obviously, provides you with all the knowledge man has acquired. Are you ready for the final stage of your transformation to AI, Jack?\"\n\n\"I...guess so...\" the man's voice crackles and stutters from the intercom.\n\n\"Begin supercomp fusion.\" the doctor drones again. \n\nImmediately, the computers in the room begin to beep furiously, warning lights going off everywhere.\n\n\"Supercomp is not taking, sir\" one of the techs says, matter-of-factly. \"His connection is falling apart. Very low connectivity sir. 10%. Less.\"\n\nA flatline sound echoes through the room.\n\n\"Jack? It's Doctor McMahon again. Can you hear me?\" \n\n\"Yes...kind of...barely.\" \n\n\"Jack, I'm sorry to say that your fusion with the supercomputer has failed. Again, I am so sorry for your unfortunate situation. We appreciate your valiant effort and wish you luck with whatever destiny you will be moving on to.\"\n\n\"Wait...what....?\" Jack's voice cries out meekly over the intercom.\n\nDr. McMahon presses a button on the wall. Immediately, two techs barge into the sterile room and begin to disconnect Jack from the machine. \n\nHis eyes are open, pupils dilated in what appears to be a paralyzed stare. His body is limp as the techs shift him from side to side, nonchalantly removing the instruments from Jack's head.\n\n\"Guys,\" the manager says over the intercom, \"we're getting no signs of cognitive function here. This one is a code 023.\" \n\nThe techs nod to the one-way glass, quickly grasp the edges of the gurney, and wheel it out the door. \n\nDown the hall they go, again passing dozens of other techs emerging from dozens of similar labs. After a seemingly endless labyrinth of turns, doorways, and airlocks, the techs arrive at door marked \"Disposal\". They wheel the gurney inside.\n\nOutside the building, a massive chimney smokes heavily. A line of people, paperwork in hand, stretches around the block. \n\nTwo grieving parents hold each other as they walk down the sidewalk, too deep in thought to notice a young woman breathlessly rush by them, headed for the building. \n\nThe young woman frantically scans the hundreds of faces of people in line as she rushes toward the front. \"Kayla!\" she screams. \"Kayla! Where are you?\"\n\nFrom the line, a few yards up, another young woman steps, confused. \"Regina, what are you doing here?\"\n\nCramping from her mad dash, Regina is hunched over, more breathless than before. \"Its...not...its...not...you can't...its...\". \n", "The queen held her two children close and began to cry. The last of a royal line of ancestral magic was held in their innocent blood. Through her tears she could see the door at the end of the hall open to the courtyard. Her husband, both a king and warrior, drove an axe into the skull of a grounded dragon. Their guards were fighting against terrible and impossible odds. When one beast fell, ten more took its place. \n\nThe king turned to her and issued his final command, the last royal edict before the fall of their land.\n\n\"Run, and never let them know of the children.\"", "Air rushed through her hair as she pushed the bike faster. In the back of her mind she knew she should have worn her helmet, instead of leaving back at the inn. But the feeling of the clean, fresh wind as it assaulted her face and nostrils, and the way that her hair whirled about her face was just too much temptation. The intoxication of freedom and life was well worth the risk. For a moment she nearly laughed out loud as the crumbled concrete passed by. \n\nFrom the stories, so much had changed. She was far too young to remember the world as it had been. But, moments like these she could almost imagine the streets crawling with people, childish laughter, the buildings shining. And then, she always thought how it must have felt when the first one appeared. As she passed the destruction she could almost smell the fear roll out from the buildings. " ]	21
	[WP] a man funds out that, due to an unknown medical condition, he will die if he ever falls asleep.	[ "The metal-framed bed was so stiff; stiff enough that each breathe, a little more labored, put a great aching pressure on his heart, where the damned virus had about eaten right through. A mechanic beep or a quick turn of newspaper set the distant rhythm of the room. He was elsewhere – alone and in a misty forest, the chirps and clicks of small wild beasts in the leaves above setting its very own soundscape. He pushed back the low, thin limbs of the southern oak and the tall grass gave way to a pebble beach – sand crunched underneath and the ground bubbled with his steps. The black creek water lapped at his toes and filled in his footsteps as he walked along the shore, eyeing the other side. \n\nIt wasn’t far across, but one breathe would never cover it. He considered, took in his past and decided himself a good man, a gardener who grew a family from sand and buried the promise of another. \n\nOne breathe would not suffice, but he took one anyway, long and deep and greedy as a young man would, and gingerly stepped in. He walked and the light filled his eyes as water rose to his knees, then his chest, and then just to the base of his lips. He puckered up to the surface and savored the water, sweet and cool, before taking one more step.\n\nAnd when finally he closed his eyes, and the long awaited sleep settled in, he saw at once that he had never really been awake at all.\n", "Eyes opened eyes opened eyes opened \nStay awake they say \nCaffeine they say \nAwake forver, eyes opened on the world \nNever \nClose \n(But why ?) \nNo dreams for me they say \nNo sleep for me they say \nDrugs \nKeep me awake \nAwake forever \nEyes opened eyes opened \nBlinking \nDo not blink too long \n(I can see the dreams when I blink) \nNo sleep \nNever \nTake another sip they say \nIt's for your own good \nThey say \nAnd yet I don't feel good \n(Maybe the bed would make me feel good) \nI know the cup in wich I drink \nNever out of my sight \nI know of \nEvery \nSingle \nSecond \nOf its presence here \n(Why not blink a bit more?) \nEyes opened eyes opened eyes opened \nDo not \nLie down \nEyes opened eyes opened \nTake some mor caffeine they say \n(Sweet dreams on the corner of my eye) \nYou don't need sleep they say \n(They call me forth) \nNo dreams \n(I wanna join them) \nFor me \n(I wanna bury my head in them) \nThey say \n(And lie forever on my bed) \nNo sleep ... \n \nThey don't say anything anymore ..." ]	2
	[WP] "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Why is the Barack Obamas nemesis his wife?	[ "He paced back and forth in the oval office, the throne of power for all the Western World. Congressional Republicans he could deal with. Putin? He had kept the Russians in line. Today, however, he had met his match.\n\nSix years since the campaign. Six years of will power, six years of stifling temptation. He was nearing his breaking point, but damn if he was going to show it. Back and forth he paced. Back and forth. \n\n\"God damnit, Michelle...\" he grumbled, fingering something in his pocket as he fumed. \"God fucking damnit.\" The pressure was mounting with every passing moment. While the Affordable Care Act was a triumph he would savor forever, immigration was his real baby. He'd been promising the Hispanic community change since he was a fledgling senator, and now, with the law on the brink of clearing both chambers, he was about to crack. \n\n\"...fucking...who am I? Huh? Who the fuck am I? I'm Barack Mother-Fucking-Obama! I'm the President of the god damn, mother fucking, United States of America! YOU HEAR ME, MICHELLE?! YOU HEAR ME?! I'm the President, and if I want a cigarette, I'M GOING TO HAVE A GOD DAMN CIGARETTE!\" " ]	1
	[WP] Suddenly everyone over the age of 18 is gone. What ensues?	[ "It all happened very quickly. The night before, I had my customary glass of milk before bed, gave up on trying to floss (again) and went to bed an hour later than I planned. \n\nI woke up to the sound of screeching sirens and panicked screams. It was already nine thirty-six in the morning. \n\n\"Shit!\" I cried, scrambling out of bed. \"Ma! Why didn't you wake me up!\" \n\nMore sirens, more screaming. A loud crash. Another scream.\n\nA haphazard change in the bathroom and more colourful language later, I headed to the kitchen to grab a quick bite before leaving for school. Well, I would have, had there actually been any toast.\n\n\"Ma? Pa?\" \n\nThe cacophony outside the house kept getting louder, louder. Perhaps the local film club was shooting a scene. Perhaps there was a car accident.\n\nI ran up to their bedrooms, but there was no one there. No body, nothing. Just gone. As if they had vanished. \n\nA blur of red shot through the window, shattering glass and narrowly missing my head. \n\nI staggered backward. I fell, but this was no time for panic. Cautiously, I inched my way toward the broken window. I wanted to be shocked at the sight, but couldn't find the strength in me to do so.\n\n\"Get your ass out here! We're in charge now!\"\n\nA group of ten or twenty or thirty kids stood outside, still in their pyjamas and each brandishing a large object of some kind - a baseball bat, the dictionary, half of a guitar. Though they were no more than five feet tall, the absolute conviction with which they spoke and the pure menace they radiated more than made up for their lack in size. \n\nI hissed and picked up the hiking stick that my parents always kept beside the wardrobe, even though they never actually went hiking. My parents could wait - this was war. \n\nI always knew preschoolers were little shits. ", "What a weird dream, I though to myself as I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bath-tub. The hallway didn't smell like coffee, which surely meant Mom wasn't up yet. Weird.\n\nAfter I had scrubbed myself down real good, I got out of the bathtub and wrapped myself in a towel and proceeded to walk back to my room and crawl into bed. This was the my favorite part of the day; when I would go back to bed until Mom finished breakfast and then come wake me. I laid my head down on my soft pillow and fell back into the weird dream...\n\nI was at school, sitting in the front row of my fourth grade class. My teacher, Mrs. Hanson, wasn't normal. she was all black. Not like black skin, blacker than that, and it was her whole body, even her clothes. A silhouette of pure black, a walking void with a human outline, was carrying on with her lecture as if nothing was out of the norm..\n\n\"Roger?,\" she called on me, \"What's your opinion on the matter\".\n\nShit, I had been distracted.\n\n\"Well, I think everyone has some good points.\"\n\nShe let out a long sigh, \"You weren't paying attention again were you? Have you been taking your ADHD medication?\"\n\n\"Yeah, of course,\" I lied.\n\nSuddenly the black silhouette turned an intense red, \"LIAR!\" the thing howled in a voice that wasn't Mrs. Hanson's, \"DETENTION FOR YOU!\"\n\nBefore I could get a proper bearing on what was going in, the class bully, Elmer, had grabbed me by the wrist and was pulling me from the classroom. Elmer turned to me and smiled as I resisted his strength, he seemed even stronger then he should be. Then he started changing, changing into one of the things that Mrs. Hanson was, a black silhouette of a person.\n\nThe silhouette that had possessed my teacher screamed, \"AND DON'T LET HIM GO UNTIL HE TAKES HIS MEDICATION!\" and echoed through the hallway as we approached the detention room. Elmer pushed me through the door and then..\n\nI woke up.\n\nI hate when I have nightmares.\n\nI turned to my clock, it was almost ten, Mom had forgot to wake me up. My stomach growled as I crawled out from my sheets and made my way towards the kitchen. The hallway still didn't smell like coffee, what gives? I arrived to an empty kitchen and began to get nervous, she would have surely told me if she was going to go somewhere. I walked over to her bedroom and found it empty. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't starting to panic a little bit.\n\nI took a deep breath and tried to clear my mind. First things first, I needed to appease the beast in my tummy. I poured myself a bowl of cookie-crisp and even added a couple extra spoonful's of sugar to it (since the sheriff wasn't in town...). I ate the brilliant breakfast and next thing I knew I was bouncing down the street towards my school. I hope I didn't get a detention for being late.\n\nI arrived at my school building, but something was curious. Everyone was standing outside, and it looked like there were no adults. \n\n\"Roger!\" my best friend Steve yelled out to me.\n\n\"What's going on? Why is everyone outside?\"\n\n\"The doors are locked! None of our parents weren't here this morning and we think that the school workers aren't here either!\"\n\nI stood, taken aback by the comment, \"..What do you mean, 'not here?\"\n\nHe looked at me with his big bug eye's, he looked scared.\n\n*GOTTA GO TO CLASS N STUFF I\"LL FINISH THIS LATER MABE*\n\n\n\n", "\"Are we there yet?\" my brother whined from the back seat. I just rolled my eyes, and to my left I heard my father sigh dramatically. \n\n\"No we are not there yet,\" he replied for the seventh time in the past ten minutes. Turning up the volume on my iPod, I resumed staring out of the window, watching the brief glimpses of colour and shape flashing past, whipped away before my brain had a chance to recognise what they were.\n\nFurther in the distance, objects crawled past more slowly, and in the sky I caught sight of a bird curling gracefully through the air. I watched it for quite some time as it swooped down low over the fields, changing direction in the blink of an eye.\n\nI only wish I'd been paying more attention to the road. \n\nThe car hurtled through a red light into the intersection, and the hood of the car folded like paper as it slammed into the side of the other car. The wheels wrenched sidewards and the car began to roll, sending glittering fragments of glass dancing through the air. In the back seat, I could hear Jamie screaming.\n\nMy head slammed into the dashboard in front of me, and as the car came to a rest on its roof, I felt my mouth fill with blood. Still strapped in, I unbuckled myself, and my body hit the roof, the glass cruching underneath me. With my head pounding and an intense pain in my left arm, I slowly turned into the back of the car to check on Jamie. \n\nHe had a small cut on his forehead, but was conscious. He was hurt though. He moaned gently and the first tears began to roll down his face.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" I asked him.\n\n\"I...I think so,\" he responded weakly. \n\n\"Dad, are you...\" I turned to him, but the driver's seat was empty. It wasn't that he had been thrown out of the car; the door was closed and the windscreen was still intact enough that he couldn't have gone through it. He was just...gone.\n\nI kicked out at the shattered window, removing the sharpest shards so that I could crawl out. I checked the road around me, but apart from the two cars, there was nothing else. No body. Where had he gone? When I checked the other car we had hit, that car was empty too. \n\nFrom further down the road, the sound of car horns began to fill the air." ]	3
	[WP] The term limit for an Angel of Death is 5 years. Your time is almost up and you have to train your replacement.	[ "“Did you ever eat ramen?” \n\n“Ramen? Hah.” He glances up at me, then away quickly. “Yeah. Of course.” \n\n“Good. The principle is the same.” \n\nHe is a fine young man with blue eyes. We stand outside the front door of a beige tract home at six thrity-seven in the evening. I do not feel the chill that makes him shiver. \n\n“Come inside,” I say, and slip through the door. The material tugs at me as I pass through it, the way water once might have. My trainee has a more difficult time. His hands reach through it, blindly, searching for some way to pull himself through. We are all like that at first, until we forget ourselves. I struggle to remind myself patience. I hold out my hand, and he snatches it, finally hauling himself through. He mimes deep breaths – a ridiculous habit – and recoils. He brushes off the palm of his hand where he touched me. \n\n“Quickly,” I say. I turn and walk down the hall. It is all soft light and photographs. I move more slowly than I used to; while my limbs have withered, my gut has bulged. I look like a rotten pear, black and sick, and I cannot sufficiently hide it under robes or shrouds. I glance behind at my trainee, and cannot help but feel resentful. He has an envious physique. He recoils from me now, but even I was beautiful once. We all look the same by the end of our term. He will, too. \n\nThe kitchen is empty; the family is talking over their meal in the dining room. \n\n“Why here?” he asked. \n\n“Call it a gut feeling,” I say. This training will be easier once he has eaten his first. \n\nI pull the Ladder from the left sleeve of my robes. I do not know why they are called the Ladder – if ever I knew, I have forgotten. They are sticks, smooth and pale, like ivory. His expression pinches a little less as I hold them out for him to see. \n\n“They're chopsticks,” he says, a little confused and disappointed. \n\nSomething under the sink bursts. Water shoots out onto the floor, pooling. A chair scrapes against carpet in the dining room. It is a middle-aged man who enters the kitchen first. His eyes droop from a long day of labors; it is a face I know well. It is the face one has when one is liable to make a mistake. \n\nHe leans down, opens the cupboard under the sink. He reaches in to turn the water off. No one has turned the breaker off. Flesh burns, and he does not stand back up again. Others are crying, screaming; his wife reaches out to pull him away. \n\n“It's a twofer,” I say. I lumber around the man, and kneel a little awkwardly. I must work quickly. He is in pain. I hold the Ladder in my hand, and I reach toward his forehead. When the two surfaces meet, they blur. I click the ends of the sticks together with my forefinger and pull upward. The soul comes out easy, a cascade of white that I slip between my teeth and feed in with repeated sweeps of the Ladder. I swallow. It has no texture but is faintly sweet. \n\nI hold the Ladder out to my trainee. He is staring at the empty body and the full one. \n\n“She's in pain,” I say. \n\n“How can you do that? So quicky?” He stares at my fleshless face, wholly disgusted. \n\nSo quicky, he says? I remember I received low marks from my own trainer for that same reason. I took them too quickly. I did not like to see them suffer. I still do not like to see them suffer. Suffer like my trainee is letting the wife suffer. I consume the woman, also too quickly. I am so full. I truly cannot stand it. I give my trainee a look of equal loathing. \n\n“You are a pitiful egotist,” I say. “We are vessels. We will go to another place and then you will eat. Not because it is fun but because it is our duty. Do you understand?” \n\nHe nods. I only feel more sick. I feel as if I will split open. It is not yet time for that. Not until my term is done and I have carried my poor souls to the River. We will all drift down it together. A soft and weightless existence. My spindle-legs struggle to hold my weight as I stand. I am so close. Only a week more. Then we are all free. " ]	1
	[WP] A sleazy marketing executive dies. When he reaches Heaven, God orders him to live in a purgatory based on the advertisements he created.	[ "Ya know i though this would be bad i though \"OH NO IM DEAD\" but its not so bad now i can smoke all i want and it never effects my lungs i can drink all i want and wake up with no hangover and best of all this skin cream actually keeps me young forever", "Tom Markey, marketing executive at Johnnie Walker held his head in his hands. The last thing he could remember was the shifting rays of light scattered by the churning surface of the water as he slowly sank into the darkness…but now he was here. Dressed in a $3,000 suit, and as dry as the drink in his glass, he pondered how he got into this bar. His train of thought was cut short, however, by the hand of a handsome man being slammed onto the counter, its brother busy on the lower back of the beautiful woman draped around him. “Two shots of Johnnie Walker”, the man proclaimed. The girl giggled and groped his chest. Tom rolled his eyes. These two were as full as shit as the drink they just ordered. Giving up on his hopeless quest to figure out how he got here, Tom threw back his shot and looked around. The first thing that struck him was the amount of incredibly attractive people around him, the second was how happy everyone seemed, and the third was a feeling he couldn’t shake, a feeling that he’d seen this all before. Dismissing this last observation as mere superstition, he ordered another gin and tonic. It had been a week and a half since he had gotten laid, and almost 24 hours since he had been drunk, both new records for the year, so grabbing his drink he began to walk around. The first woman he approached was a gorgeous blonde with a personality that her bra could hardly contain. But as soon as he got close she walked over towards the handsome man he had seen before. “Lucky bastard” Tom muttered. He rarely got jealous of other men, but when everyone in the bar is drawn to one person like moths to a flame, and you feel as worthless as a Kenyan dollar, it’s hard not to. It was the theme for the rest of the night. Failed approaches, cold shoulders, and all the while Mr. Johnnie Fucking Walker held his audience captive, working some mysterious magic over the crowd that made them smile, laugh, and fall into his arms. Fifteen drinks later, Tom had his head in the toilet, his confidence crushed into the cold marble, and the contents of his stomach covering it all. Drunk out of his mind and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in, he sat there and cried. His sobs filled the bathroom, but fell on deaf ears. If he took the time to listen though, he would have heard a deep and gravelly voice over the sound of the music and laughing. “Johnnie Walker: just keep walking, you’re sure to find a good time”", "Francis walked in to the ante-room to purgatory. Purgatory is the ante-room to heaven or hell he chuckled to himself. There should be a place where I could put these random nuggets of wisdom, thoughts you have in the shower or something. There were around 20 people in the room. They all looked worried about what's to come. We probably got the same punishment, he thought as he looked around. What worried Francis was not the fact that he was in the waiting list to get to heaven. What worried him was the fact that he was not worried as worried as all the others seem to be. I recruited salespeople for a living. How hard could the punishment be? Anyway, I was helping them become their own person, why would that be punished? He fidgeted as he thought back on all the things he did. He couldn't so he just imagined the worst possible scenario. His thoughts were interrupted by a group of people that just walked in. Francis' eyes bulged. What the fuck! He recognized one of them.\n\nCara walked in with 4 other people. She scanned the room and noted that 6 people recognize her. I'm almost there, she thought as she admired her loot. She had 6 souls this week. That's 6 more souls helping me out! Cara used to be so conflicted about the whole scheme but her mentor told her she was doing humanity a favor. Her mentor loves doing this work so much. He has more than 1.5 Million points but he still stays here. She has been in purgatory for a little over 200 weeks. So far, she has 366,988 points.\n\nI know this woman! Francis' mind raced. He tried his hardest to remember. Where? Where? He suddenly realized that he could not remember much. What is happening? Where are all my memories? He was panicking.\n\nRecruitment of new souls happened while they were still alive. Exponential Strategists like Cara are given a list of names. These are the members of multilevel marketing firms. Why are they not in heaven? Because they've seen the evil that they bring but refuse to stop. Why are they not in hell? Because they were innocent when they were sucked in. See, what she does is she stalks these marketers about a month before their scheduled death. She would lurk, sometimes go as far as having conversations with them. All this is to ensure that they would recognize her while they were in the ante-room. Everyone picks the team of the person they recognize.\n\nCara stood before them watching her favorite part. They recognized her. And they would all try to remember where but will soon realize that they wouldn't be able to remember anything. It's like that first few moments after you wake up from a very vivid dream. It's there. You know it's there. But as soon as you try to think about it or tell it to someone, it slips away. Cara lives for these moments. Well, not really live but you know... She loves how this brief moment reminds her of sleeping and dreaming. She has neither dreamt nor slept in years.\n\nFrancis, along with 5 other people, walked towards Cara. He couldn't focus on anything as he was furiously trying to remember. Let's see. Before she walked in, I was seated here He was backtracking. I was thinking about my punishment-- \"Hello everyone and welcome!\" Cara interrupts everyone's thoughts. This was the moment she hated the most. The moment you really wake up, stop worrying about the forgotten dream, and go about your day. She hates that her voice is the first memory they will have of purgatory. \"You are all here because you have decided to take control of your fate in the afterlife. Thousands of people die each day but you,\" she looks at each and every one of them in the eye \"are empowered and independent.\" Their eyes are focusing on her now, thoughts of life drift slowly away. \"To get to heaven, everyone must have 1,000,000 points under their belts. Each soul you recruit counts as 10 points. The souls they recruit would count as 10 points for them and 1 point for you.\" Cara delivered her memorized spiel on thinking of recruits as investments that give returns while they rest. They listen intently while her mind drifts away to her favorite memory: her mentor booming \"Hello everyone and welcome!\"", "Bob woke up like any other day, and went to the kitchen to fry up some eggs for breakfast. He put on a pot of coffee, and went to grab the frying pan. As soon as he grasped the handle, it practically leapt out of his hands!\n\n\"Well, since it was on the floor I should wash it..\" Bob thought, as he carried the pan to his sink. He grabbed the unusually damp and smelly sponge, rinsed it, and put soap on it. \n\nAs soon as he started wiping the pan, he couldn't keep his grip on either object. The sponge flew into the trashcan, and the frying pan shattered a window, flying out of sight and landing with a crash.\n\nBob was thoroughly disturbed by this point, and his experience trying to pour his coffee further damaged his mental state. Completely exasperated, he found a bag of cheese balls and some soda, and he placed them on the table.\n\n\"There's no way I can mess this up!\" Bob yelled, oh how wrong he was.\n\nThe bowl tipped off the edge of the table, spilling the powder covered orange snacks everywhere. When Bob touched the glass of soda, it too flew off the table. But it vanished, as if it passed through a dimensional rift.\n\n\"Where did the soda go? Where did the soda GO?! WHERE DID THE SODA GO?!\" Bob yelled, over and over. ", "I try to escape, and I never get far. There are people here, or at least they look like people, but they’re really demonic entities, soul-consuming vampires, wraiths. They’re the prison guards and I’m the only prisoner. They look like your average American, utterly non-threatening, the kind that pat you on the back and say “howdy” instead of hello. Big pleasant smiles and rows of perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth. I created them and their world, and now I live in it.\n\nJim is always looking for his car, but thank God he has “my lil reminder.” It reminds him to pay his taxes, keeps the grocery list fresh in his mind, helps him recall where he parked his car. And then there’s Sandy, who uses the “Portable Putter!” to keep her golf game sharp while in the office or on the toilet. And thank the lord that Bob found the “Snuggle Companion Blanket.” It keeps him warm when he attends Alex’s high school basketball games. \n\nI live in their world now. I’m constantly banging my head, slipping on a banana peel, shaking my fist in frustration. That is, until my own creations come and bail me out. They make me put on a fake smile, pretend my life is now complete, thanks to my payment of fifty easy payments of nineteen ninety-five. If this were real life, I would have blown my brains out a long time ago. If I refuse to partake in the commericials, in this hellish world, Jim and Sandy and Bob have no problem. They just stand there and smile until I read the script and we nail the take. God said ten thousand products. That’s how many times I have to relive this, how many shit products I have to advertise. I’m about four hundred in at this point I can’t image hell being all that much worse. \n\nWhen I try to run I always end up in the same place. It’s all one infinite suburbia except the houses are all empty and the weather is always perfect. Jim and Bob and Sandy always find me. They don’t have to do anything. They don’t drag me back. They just follow me, smiling, saying nothing, a silent reminder that there is only an infinitely of this endless, picturesque suburbia. Nothing more. No escape. All I’m doing is prolonging my stay. \n\nI break down crying, begging for forgiveness. I know I did wrong by summoning these figments into people’s lives. I told them their lives would be complete if they accepted the prophesy of these demons, the gospels of Jim, Sandy, and Bob. No matter how long I cry for, I look up to see their big, stupid, facile faces staring back down at me. The smile and remind me that I created them. \n\nThey wait for me to stand up, and I say yet again, “This barbeque is getting a little too boring, why don’t we spice it up, with our brand new line of Mr. Wiggles Party Time Accessories!”\n", "\"Welcome to hell!\" the devil's diabolical, booming laughter, ushered Benjamin to his damnation. \n\n\"Did you just lip sync?\" \n\n\"What do you...\" the devil replied with a puzzled look.\n\n\"Yeah, you lip synced that laughter. Your voice sounds different now.\" \n\nHe stared back motionless \"How did you know?\"\n\n\"I've made my fortune through manipulating, and deceiving people. Takes one to know one, you know?\"\n\nThe devil smiled out corner of his mouth \"Come with me.\" he gestured for him to follow. \"I know what people think about me. What they expect of me. I can be cruel, don't get me wrong, but in the laughter department I came out short. Maybe god had a hand in it.\"\n\n\"Perception is key.\"\n\n\"Exactly that. So here we are. You were sent here by god\" he said while flailing his arms like a rebellious teen. \"So now I have to punish you, cause you were, as they say on earth - a square.\"\n\nBenjamin squeezed his face \"You need to invest in a better research team, no one says a square anymore. Not even people my age.\"\n\n\"Age.\" he echoed him, laughing, less impressively, this time. \"Age doesn't mean a thing here. You're here for eternity. Eternity plus fifteen, you know how old that is?\"\n\n\"E-ternity?\" \n\n\"ETERNITY!\" Benjamin looked at him baffled, as the devil spread his arms dramatically.\n\n\"Hmm what is my punishment for this eternity?\"\n\n\"Remember the Cow-abunga, flavoured milk campaign, you spearheaded?\"\n\n\"Yeah, we sold ton of those. Moms loved our campaign. Are you going to force me to drink that crap?\"\n\n\"That'd be too easy.\" If I only thought about it beforehand he mumbled to himself. \"No, your campaign was about a family, sitting together, and the parents handing out milk cartons to the kids.\"\n\n\"Sappy world, deserve a sappy campaign. People like to pretend they care, so we pretended with them.\"\n\nThe devil paused, and continued \"The punishment should fit the crime, is what we say in hell.\"\n\n\"We say that on earth too.\"\n\n\"Fine, but we're in hell now, and I just said it, so I'TS WHAT WE SAY IN HELL. And you'll spend your eternity having wholesome family time, with a designated family.\"\n\n\"That it? Maybe you should add flames and demons to your announcements, they'll sell better.\"\n\nThe devil smiled. \"Goodbye, Benjamin.\"\n\nBenjamin found himself in a room, the exact copy of his living room. He looked at all the details they managed to recreate. And on his family couch, his wife and two kids were sitting there. He ran over, excited, but they did not respond. The wife handed Benjamin a carton of milk, and said with an empty voice \"Here you go, husband, give it to the kids.\"\n\nThe kids looked at him, with a glazed, emotionless expression, and opened the palms of their hands. \"Thank you daddy.\" they said, moving nothing but their mouths.\n\nBenjamin sat there, between the empty shells that took the form of his family. He closed his eyes, and all the memories of his real family came rushing in.\n\nHe sat there, day and night. Being a pretend dad, to a pretend family.\n\nHe sat there, among them, emotionless." ]	6
Taken from the idea of [this post](http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/2oolg7/if_there_were_a_milder_version_of_hell_called/)	[WP] Describe a day in the life of "Heck": the more mild version of Hell.	[ "\"Cheese and crackers, well gosh darn it you were sent here by mistake dontcha know?\" The four foot man in front of me looked up blinking through the thick lenses of his black horn rimmed glasses. I scratched my head and looked around, confused about exactly where 'here' was and confused about where I was suppose to go. \n\n\"I'm sorry, but where am I?\" I asked the short man who looked like an owl with his bald head and the glasses making his eyes big and bug like. \n\n\"You're in Heck friend, but it says here\", he pointed to a clipboard with a pudgy finger, \"ya outta be one floor down. These kinda things happen from time to time ya know but geez, I'm really sorry for the mix-up. Well no use crying over some spilled milk, follow me.\" He waddled to a nearby window in the beige building I didn't remember entering. At the window was a red head woman about the same size and width as my new owl friend. She looked up and squinted through her just as thick glasses. \n\n\"Hey-ya Ethel, think you can do me a favor and get me Mr. Jamerson's paperwork. We gotta a little mix-a-roo here.\" He chuckled and the red head rolled her eyes and tapped lightly on her keyboard. The little guy leaned against the desk and looked around smiling. \"Kinda nice isn't it? Nice folks, not a lotta hustle and bustle, yep, I like it here that I do.\" \n\n\"What is here? What is Heck?\" I checked out my surroundings, beige tile, beige paint on the walls, besides the receptionist desk and a few beige couches and end tables with some plain beige lamps there was nothing else in the room. I felt uncomfortable in this room, I was very thirsty, there was a dryness in the air that I couldn't actually understand, I also felt mildly cold and a tad hot at the same time, I didn't know if I wanted to remove my jacket or put on something heavier. All and all being here was unpleasant and I couldn't wait to get my transfer papers. \n\n\"There you are\" The red head said in a husky, smokes three packs a day voice, \"you can go on down that elevator, just hit -1.\" \n\nThe bald owl smiled at me and patted me on the back and I quickly grabbed the papers and walked to the elevator. I hit the button and turned around once more, the man had turned to talk to the red head and had his wide back to me. The door opened and I stepped inside. \n\nI hit the -1 and waited, not long the floor beneath me seemed to drop out because that is exactly what happened, I screamed as I fell to what I thought was my death, the air around me rushed by and grew exceedingly warmer almost to the point where I couldn't breath and though I waited for my body to go SPLAT it never did. I fell for ages, sweating and licking my cracked lips. I had my eyes closed tightly waiting for the end but when it didn't happened I risked opened my dry, burning eyes and gasped. \n\nBeneath me was fire, beneath me was terrible terrible things screaming and running and crying and laughing as terrible terrible things were done to them. I quickly understood where I was and wished to return to that slightly uncomfortable room up above. What evil had I committed? What did I do to deserve this? To my horror I realized I was falling to Hell. ", "She glanced up at me from her soduku. She looked as though she had just got the red circle of death from an Xbox, or perhaps even had stepped on the business end of half a pistachio shell. \"Get in that line, sir.\"\n\n\"Thank you, miss, yes. You see I have been in that line for over six hours now and it hasn't but hardly moved.\"\n\nShe exhaled reluctantly. She yanked her glassed from the bridge of her nose, allowing them to hang from the drugstore bought chain that now covered the number Seventy Four embossed on her shirt. \"You must wait in that line, sir. When you get the end of the line you will be assigned a number.\"\n\n\"Well that's just the thing of it, miss. I stood in a line yesterday, for fourteen hours, and finally I was given a number.\"\n\nShe placed her sodoku book on her desk like she might a iPhone with apple maps that had just led her down an alleyway that did not, in fact, connect back to the highway. \"And did that number say 74 on it?\"\n\n\"Yes, miss, it sure did. And I did my best to get here as early as I could. But I was stuck in terrible traffic this morning - they had blocked three lanes on the freeway due to an accident. So it took two hours to get the three miles to get here. And I've been in this line all day.\"\n\nHer eyes flitted up, over my head. Her brow crumpled as it might for a 1980s teen trying unsuccessfully to get an old Nintendo game to work by jamming in another on top of it. \"You will be assigned your next number once you've waited in line until your turn.\"\n\n\"Miss, if I may, it shouldn't take more than a moment or two to tell everyone their number, but it seems to me that'd the line is advancing about one or two persons per hour.\"\n\nShe lifted her glasses off the Seventy Four and slide them on. She picked up her sodoku book, not unlike a father picking up the controller and deciding to try, one more time, to beat his son at a LAN game of COD versus her three sons. \"Please get back in line and you'll get your number when it's your turn.\" Her face lit up as she scribbled \"4\" into the corner square. \"We are very busy today.\"", "In all the years I sat in church \nIn pews that made my back a wreck \nNever once spoke our priest from his perch \nOf this hereafter known as \"Heck\" \n\nHalf my life I've feared the hellfire \nCertain that my fate was sealed \nDoomed to squirm in Satan's mire \nWith no life left that I could yield \n\nSo you can imagine my surprise \nUpon arriving down below \nWhen I don't hear tortuous cries \nBut old ladies cackling at BINGO \n\nThey chatter at me from all sides \nDemanding tales of mortal coil \nGradually my fear subsides \nAs my temper starts to boil \n\nBut just as I'm about to yell \nA loud gong sends the group off at a trot \nCursing their omission from hell \nWhere maybe Satan plays \"blackout\" \n\nIt seems I'm just in time for lunch \nOut of the cafeteria wafts a heavenly scent \nSuddenly people are lining up by the bunch \nTwo hours later I'm halfway through my ascent\n \nI'm ravenous when at last I reach the front \nBut, despite my desperate waving at the prime rib \nThe hard-of-hearing worker only grunts \nAnd hands me soggy grape nuts and a can of Mr. Pib \n \nI stumble to an open seat \nAnd sigh as I see two giant TV screens \nI'm about to kick up my feet \nWhen an all-too familiar voice intervenes \n\n\"Jon!!! Save that seat, please!!!\" \nScreeches Hal, who's sweating despite the lack of sun \nHe's a coworker from whom I generally flee \nBut, in Heck, there's simply nowhere to run \n\nI settle in for a long debrief \nIt will be hours, days until Hal's done \nA glance at the TV compounds my grief \nThe Summer Olympics. And a Real Housewives re-run. \n\nI'm not sure if it's appropriate to post the same response to two different prompts, but since yours was similar to the post I initially responded to (the one you linked), I thought I would." ]	3
	[WP] The Dawn of Magic - Write about the earliest days of magic, and it's discovery/realization in an established universe or one of your own making.	[ "Humanity had long clung to fire. In the plains of our ancestors, fire was our greatest strength. The warmth and food it gave us made us strong. It gave us all we needed. Yet humanity craved more. An ancient, known only as Taygar, felt this lust more than most. He desired to understand fire, and to make it his own. And so he stepped into the flames, yet was not consumed. His will was greater than that of the fire. He took the fire into himself, and it became a part of him. And with the eternal fire burning in his breast he soon learned that their lay elements beyond the fire which had so helped his people. And so the people brought the elements into their hearts and they created. The lords of fire and earth and water and air forged the future. And here we stand masters of the land of our birth. And here we stand, craving even more.", "\"And now our top story. I'm joined by Doctor William Black, the discoverer of magic. Good morning Doctor.\"\n\n\"Good morning.\"\n\n\"So to get straight to the point, you have discovered under laboratory conditions that magic does in fact exist.\"\n\n\"Well scientifically speaking it's not actually magic. Magic is a word we use when we cant explain something, and of course this is something we can now explain.\"\n\n\"Could you explain magic in simple terms for us?\"\n\n\"Well again it's not really 'magic', but yes. There are many different types of energies that exist in the universe that were until now undetectable, much less controllable. However, with the latest research into dark energy I noticed that certain shapes gave very different readings. These previously unknown energies flow through all matter in the universe, and so by simply drawing certain shapes we can direct the energy into a specific point.\"\n\n\"And how do you get from there to, for example, making fire from nothing?\"\n\n\"Well it all comes down to the symbols. Different symbols mean different energies mix and react in different ways. So using the right symbols in the right order can make the energies give off heat and can go on to create fire.\"\n\n\"But It's demonstrated that you can use magic without drawing any symbols at all. How it that possible?\"\n\n\"Ok, again it isn't magic, It's just a way of manipulating energy. Anyway, it isn't possible to do anything without toe symbols, but it is possible to make the symbols with nothing nut your mind. Careful and specific thought, similar to meditation, can in a sense rewire the synapses in your brain. Enough of this can wire the symbols into the brain itself , allowing someone to control energy with their mind.”\n\n“Amazing. So just how wide are the practical uses of magic?”\n\n“IT’S NOT MAGIC!!”" ]	2
Before anyone says anything I'm very aware this is almost the plot for Lilo and Stitch. But I challenge you to do better.	[WP] You are given the opportunity to breed a deadly new creature of war, what you get isn't what you expected.	[ "They certainly weren't what the General had been expecting when he had come into the facility to be briefed, honestly he was half a second from taking his ceremonial cutlass and flogging the men with it. God only knew those eggheads needed someone to put them in their place when they brought up something this outrageous. As he held his thinning patience, the General soon found himself glad he hadn't done anything rash. The creatures were perfect.\n\nThe field test came in the following week, all enemies KIA, 100% success.\n\nConsidering the efforts and moral of the public, they were also in steep supply, a surplus. That was something the country hadn't seen in awhile, but the more patriotic of citizens were happy to volunteer them for service. The General puffed on his cigar quietly from his office window, leaving the briefings and reports on his desk. \n\nPropaganda had been distributed, following the premise that the creatures were being used as messengers, and morale bringers. He chuckled at that.\n\nIt was almost too good to be true. \n\nChihuahua suicide bomb squads, who would have thought?", "General Waldrop stood next to the scientists with his nerves wracking. Lead Scientist McArthur cleared his throat, \"Gentlemen, today,\" his voice caught in his throat, \"today we have made the death of humanity the easiest thing possible. Behind this door we have the power to ruin the world.\" General Waldrop gulped. The war had been horrible but he didn't want to kill the entire world. \nAfter the banning and destruction of all nuclear missiles the world's \"peaceful\" standoff ended and erupted into an old fashion war. Trenches, bullets, bombs... it had been horrible. He hoped to use this to end it all, but at what cost? McArthur straightened his coat, \"shall we see men? Let us see our own personal Grim Reaper.\" \nThe door let out it's pressurization and opened. General Waldrop winced not knowing what to expect. \nA moment of silence passed. \nThe men looked at each other. \nA quiet \"meow\" was let out and a tiny kitten bumbled his way out of the holding tube. He looked up at the men, their hearts melted with joy. \nMcArthur picked up the tiny kitten, \"well, looks like we failed, but it's the best failure I've ever seen, isn't it little guy, isn't it?\" The men crowed around the kitten petting it. A minute passed and they were enthralled with tiny little ball of fur. \nThe kitten sneezed. The men giggled. \n\"Look at his little face,\" General Waldrop was the happiest he'd been in years at that moment. \nMcArthur coughed. He coughed again. \nThe scientist next to General Waldrop wiped at his nose and had blood on his hand. \nThe men looked at each other in fear. McArthur put the kitten down and walked a few steps back. He coughed again, bringing up blood this time. He began to convulse. \nGeneral Waldrop felt his heart speed up. It continued to beat faster and faster. His vision began to blur. He looked over at McArthur who had started to choke on his own blood. He turned to the other scientists who had all fallen to the ground dead. General Waldrop wiped at his mouth. Blood. He looked at the kitten, it meowed. It began to rub against his leg. \nHe picked it up. He tried to put his hand around it's neck and break it but he was too weak. The kitten licked at his hand and it burned him. \nHe put the kitten down, coughed, walked over to a chair and sat down. He could feel the blood running from his nose. He watched the kitten bound out of the door of the lab. General Waldrop looked up trying to see God. \"Forgive us.\" He coughed again wishing he'd never become a soldier." ]	2
	[WP][RF]Whenever I pull down the attic door to my 37 year old house, I see this written on the first step in black marker: "I Love Brad!!!"	[ "Whenever I pull down the attic door to my 37 year old house, I see this written on the first step in black marker: \"I Love Brad!!!\" It makes me laugh every time I see it. My sister wrote that when she was 15 and dating some boy named Brad. I was 8 at the time. Brad turned out to be a jerk. I forget why. A couple weeks after they broke up Mom was in the attic getting down the Christmas decorations. “Ugh! Why did I write that! I hate Brad!!!” my sister exclaimed. “Now that will be there forever. Stupid Brad. I’m gonna get upset whenever I see that now. This whole house is ruined.”\n\nMy mom is always the optimist. Looking back, she was probably also trying to make light of the graffiti my sister scrawled on the ladder to the attic, which she was none to fond of and scolded my sister for when she wrote it the month before. “Well, what if Brad meant something else? What is Brad was something you liked?”\n\n“I don’t get it…” my sister said. \n\n“Like ice cream?” I asked.\n\n“Yes!” Mom said. \n\nLater that night, when we were decorating Christmas cookies, my sister decorated a Christmas tree one that turned out exceptionally well. “So this cookie… is it Brad?” \n\n“That’s a beautiful cookie! It is Brad.” My mom said. And so the joke began.\n\nMy sister barely remembers the actual Brad. But we do remember the joke, and it’s been a part of our family’s vocabulary ever since that Christmas. Today I got a snapchat from my sister of a martini, with the caption “Brad.” I smiled. How typical. Family inside jokes are my favorite kind of jokes. So in the end, I guess Brad was good for something.\n", "Back in 1977, the future Oscar-nominee was a 14-year-old basketball player for the Cherokee Rejects. In a recently unearthed photo, the Moneyball actor, now 48, is a gawky, puny teen in a \"Rejects\" team jersey, short shorts, knee-high tube socks and sneakers as he balances a basketball on his knee and holds a trophy in his left hand.\n\nThe \"Rejects\" were set up by Pitt when he failed to make the first-string basketball team, according to teammate Aaron Stull.\n\n'We were the Cherokee Rejects. We didn't make the final cut for the eighth grade basketball team, so the five of us just decided to be the Cherokee Rejects,\" Stull is quoted as saying the Daily Mail, adding that Pitt's father, Bill Pitt, coached the underdog team.\n\n'His dad coached us and we used to practice at one of the churches his family used to go to and play our games at the local Boy's Club,\" Stull recalled. \"'We even got a trophy, but sadly I can't remember what it was for. But it didn't matter to Brad, he was glad to play. I think he impressed some of the girls, too.\"\n" ]	2

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